Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/886219.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage, Rape/Non-Con, Graphic_Depictions_Of_Violence
  Category:
      F/M, M/M
  Fandom:
      Teen_Wolf_(TV)
  Relationship:
      Derek_Hale/Stiles_Stilinski, Allison_Argent/Scott_McCall, Vernon_Boyd/
      Erica_Reyes, Vernon_Boyd/Isaac_Lahey/Erica_Reyes, Lydia_Martin/Jackson
      Whittemore
  Character:
      Derek_Hale, Stiles_Stilinski, Scott_McCall, Vernon_Boyd, Isaac_Lahey,
      Erica_Reyes, Allison_Argent, Alan_Deaton, Peter_Hale, Sheriff_Stilinski,
      Melissa_McCall, Chris_Argent
  Additional Tags:
      sterek, Bodyswap, Only_second_season_with_no_Alpha_Pack, Slow_Build,
      First_Time, Witches, Scent_Marking, Eventual_Smut, Eventual_Sex,
      Knotting, Topping_from_the_Bottom, Full_Shift_Werewolves, Alternate
      Universe_-_Everyone_Lives/Nobody_Dies, Masturbation, Mutual_Masturbation,
      Frottage
  Stats:
      Published: 2013-07-17 Completed: 2013-08-20 Chapters: 10/10 Words: 36590
****** Under My Skin ******
by Renmackree
Summary
     In his defense, Stiles wasn't even trying to find his way into the
     supernatural tonight. He had gone to a normal party at Danny's after
     their summer Lacrosse practice , met a normal girl who seemed
     interested in him, left with her to go to her normal apartment in the
     hopes of having normal sex for the first time.
     But, then again, when has anything normal happened to Stiles
     Stilinski?
Notes
     This is post second season AU, with no Alpha Pack, no death, set the
     summer before Senior year.
     (Takes place June 2012-September 2012)
     Enjoy.
***** Chapter 1 *****
Stiles nearly triped on a root that had been covered in the brush of the
forest, his hands tied behind his back making it hard to keep balance. He
righted himself at the last minute, heart beating faster as he tried to escape
his chasers.
Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck
That's usually the first thing that runs through Stiles' mind when shit goes
down, and tonight is nothing new. You would think that with all his training
and preparation with the wolves, he'd be able to handle his own in a fight.
But no. Here he was on a Wednesday night.
On the full moon.
Running for his life.
From a coven of Witches.
In his defense, Stiles wasn't even trying to find his way into the supernatural
tonight. He had gone to a normal party at Danny's after their summer Lacrosse
practice, met a normal girl who seemed interested in him, left with her to go
to her normal apartment in the hopes of having normal sex for the first time.
But of course that's how he ended up bound and gagged in the preserve, mostly
naked, covered in ancient ruins, encased in a ring of fire, with loud Latin
chanting ringing in his ears. He had managed to roll himself off onto his feet
and raced through the dense trees in the middle of what he hoped was the wine
drinking portion of the program. He couldn't get the damn gag off and his
wrists were starting to chaff from the rope tied tightly around them.
Could my lifegetany worse? He thought, just as he tripped and went sprawling
down a small hill and into something headfirst.
“Awww look, he wanted to play tag!” the girl cooed, grabbing Stiles by his hair
and tugging him up to face her. “Well, looks like I'm it.” she let out a cackle
and the other women slowly walked around the two of them chanting.
“Alli permutat anima kimota. Alli permutat anima kimota. Alli per–“the chanting
was cut off by the sudden claws ripping the main Witch out of the circle and
tossing her to the side like a rag doll.
“Iffac!” Stiles cheered through his gag, the floppy haired teen smiled and bore
his fangs at the Witches. Boyd and Erica walked out of the shadows, their teeth
and claws bared as they walked up and paced before the other women. And low and
behold from the shadows came the Big Bad Brooding Wolf, Derek Hale.
“VERMIN!” the main witch screamed as she brushed herself off. Derek just
snarled at her claws out and took a stance. “This is our sacrifice. Find your
own meat, animals!” Erica let out a snort as she punched one of the Witches out
cold.
“Oh my god, Stiles are you a virgin sacrifice?” she asked with a lazy drawl,
sending an open mouth wink to the bound boy. “I can take care of that problem
if you wa--”
“Erica.” Derek warned, his eyes never leaving the Witch.
“What? Boyd's into Threesomes. Isn't that right Isaac?” the wolf flushed at the
mention of his name, tackling his own witch to the ground and knocking her
senseless.
“This is not the time to talk abou--” but Derek didn't get the rest of the
sentence in as the Witch jumped at him with a silver knife flailing. The wolf
sidestepped, raking his claws over the back of her party shirt and tearing
through it like paper. She screamed, flinging herself at him once more and
managed the get the knife in his shoulder. Though, where there should have been
a grimace, Derek now had a wide smile.
“Self defense.” and his claws raked through her throat. He dropped her body to
the forest floor like a sack of potatoes, blood spluttering out of her throat
as she turned to look at Stiles.
“--mutat anima kimota.” she finished the charm as her body went still. Derek
snorted, kicking the body to be sure and then turned to Isaac.
“You, bury the body. Erica help. Boyd, bring the sacrifice home.” he turned on
his heel, walking in the direction the Witches came from to sniff out their
origin. Stiles took a deep breath when Boyd removed the gag, Isaac and Erica
grabbing the body of the witch and dragging her in the direction of the Hale
house.
“Thanks Derek! Nice to know I'm worth saving still.” Stiles called after the
wolf, knowing full well he could hear him. But there was no response.
“You alright?” Boyd asked, slicing the ropes from Stiles' chaffed wrists and
stepping back so Stiles could rub them.
“Yeah yeah. Just was nearly a virgin sacrifice for a coven of witches on a
Wednesday night, when I should be in bed. Sleeping. Dreaming of things that
aren'ttrying to kill me... Y'know... the usual. You?” Boyd just smiled, patting
Stiles on the bare shoulder and looking over him.
“I've been better.” and the two of them walked towards the Camaro.
Stiles immediately jumped into the shower and washed off everything that
remotely looked like something the witches might have drawn on him. (which led
to a lot of false alarms with his freckles and moles) He spend maybe an hour or
so in the hot water, soaping up and then rinsing, then soaping up again. He
brushed his teeth like, a thousand times to get the taste of the forest floor
out of his mouth and then walked into his room fully ready to pass out.
Of course, that meant Scott was there.
“Oh my god! Stiles you should have called” the teen said, his jaw clenched
tightly. Normally Stiles would comment to Scott that he had called him, left
him a voice mail that may or maynot have just said “Dude, guess who won't be a
virgin in the morning!” but still.
“Well, I was a little tied up.” Scott still didn't look happy, his eyes
flicking over Stiles as if to make sure the boy wasn't too badly injured. When
he was mostly satisfied, he walked over and patted Stiles on the shoulder.
“Ok... sorry... I should have been there for you.” he sighed, looking away. “I
mean, seriously. How did Derek know?” Stiles frowned, having not really asked
any questions about the night and then it hit him.
“Oh! I must have ran into Hale territory or something when I was trying to
escape the Witches--” Scott's eyes went even wider.
“Derek just told me you got into trouble! He didn't say there were WITCHES!”
Scott was on him now, lifting his arms and turning him around. Stiles snorted,
pushing the wolf away and crossing his arms.
“I'm fine. Nothing happened. The Teenaged Mutant Brooding Werewolves and master
Splinter totally were there to get my pale ass out of the fire.” Scott blinked,
tilting his head and cracking a smile. “You just imagined Derek as a rat didn't
you?”
Scott just gave him a knowing smile and the two of them laughed it off.
Finally, after much convincing that he was too tired to get into anymore
trouble, Scott slipped out of the window and into the night. Probably back to
Allison's.
Stiles had every intention of going right to bed. After he went on the internet
for a little. He just wanted to know what the hell the Latin was that the Witch
seemed so desperate to finish in her last breath of life.
Google Translate brought up little to nothing. True he could have been spelling
it wrong but he highly doubted “Ali changes kimota soul” was the right
translation of the spell. He really wished he would have taken Lydia up on
those Latin lessons now.
Team Human had been dwindling in the side wind since Lydia decided to go to
London with Jackson for the summer and Allison had given up her hunting ways
(for good this time, Stiles watched her burn the crossbows). Stiles was all
that was left, unless you counted Deaton who really wasn't on a team per-say.
And Danny, who had guessed everything their Junior year and soon became an
intricate part in the whole shebang.
But still, two humans a team does not make.
He closed his laptop, rubbing his eyes with his fists and yawning deeply as he
rolled from his desk to his bed. He flopped on top of the covers, rolling into
them and grabbing for his phone.
Which of course was in the woods. He grumbled to himself about how he seemed to
be loosing more and more phones as time wore on with the pack, but he was too
tired to do anything about it. He found himself asleep within seconds of
turning over.
When Stiles woke up, he was so hungry he felt like he could eat and entire
deer. In fact, the deer sounded really good to him. He rolled off his mattress
onto the floor and lay sprawled out for a moment just enjoying the cold floor.
Sure, to the outside eye it might seem like he was being clumsy in the early
morning, but Stiles had been doing this since he was a kid and old habits died
hard. He curled on the floor, rolling around for a little and then finally
opening his eyes.
To see this wasn't his floor.
He stood up as quickly as he could, looking over the room he was in. The walls
were bare, almost cell like, and all the windows were covered in black
curtains. He let out a little groan as he noticed the large bed and the dresser
that was nearly empty. Nothing could tell him where he was.
He walked to the door finding it led to a small bathroom with a sink and
toilet, a small shower in the corner. No mirrors, just a tooth brush and a
straight razor. Stiles frowned, wondering whose room this was.
He closed the door, now really glad he hadn't decided to just whip his morning
wood out and go to town. However, Stiles felt the increase of want to do just
that. His body seemed to be gagging for it, the air around him charged with
lust and need. He could almost smell it the way it came off in waves, choking
around him and telling him to take.
He really needed to get laid.
Stiles stretched slightly, pulling his hands over his face and rubbing it
awake. Which was weird because when the hell did he get stubble? He looked down
at his hands, the morning haze finally settling down and sending 'good morning'
signals to his brain.
“Oh what the--” he slapped his mouth shut, nearly swallowing his tongue in
shock. That wasn't his voice. He bit his lip, looking over the body he was now
in. This was not his chest, not his arms, not his ass... oh god... he looked
down, a pair of sleeper pants blocking his view from the bottom half of his
borrowed body. But, even without looking, he knew it wouldn't be his.
Shit shit shit shit shit. He thought, trying to find a surface to look into.
What the hell was this? What the hell was... he finally found a cell phone in a
pair of jeans on the floor and with shaky hands flipped the phone.
Derek Hale stared back at him. He slid through the contacts on Derek's phone,
holding it up to his ear and listening to the ringing.
“Shit shit, C'mon Scott... answer!” Stiles grumbled, though it sounded
extremely weird coming out in Derek's voice. He didn't know exactly what had
happened, but all he needed to do right now was talk to his best friend.
“What do you want?” the cold voice on the other end told him Scott must have
not been expecting this. Good, maybe Derek didn't know he was part of the
Invasion of the Body Snatched.
“SCOTT! Oh my god, thank the heavens, Listen. Dude, this is gonna sound super
freaky, like... Freaky Friday Freaky, but DAMN IT! It's only Thursday and I
don't know what to do with myself, and OH GOD this probably sounds to crazy
comin--”
“STILES?!?” Scott's voice took on a new tone, one that was flooded with
concern.
“OH YES! YES IT'S ME.” Stiles let his body, er-- Derek's body relax as he
collapsed on the bed and nodded hard. “Yes yes yes.”
“Why the hell do you sound like Derek? Why the hell are you using Derek's
phone.” it seemed the latter was the most scandelous thing that Stiles could
have done, so the boy ignored it.
“Because! I. am. in. Derek's. BODY.” he let out a yelp, that sounded more dog
like that he usually would have made. But... this was Derek.
“OH SHIT! Is Derek in your body?” Scott asked, his mouth suddenly connecting to
Stiles' brain.
His Dad.
“Hell, oh my god, Scott. GET OVER THERE. NOW NOW NOW!” Scott hung up after
that, Stiles getting up and tripping over the legs of his sleeper pants and
falling face first into the floor. Pain and the smell of blood filled his nose.
“OH MY FUCKING GOD!” Stiles screamed, holding his-- Derek's -- now broken nose
gingerly. “Could this day get any worse?” three heads popped out from the
stairwell leading out of the room. Erica, Boyd, and Isaac all looked over him
with wide eyes.
“Derek?” Isaac said finally, Stiles realizing his nose had been healed as he
gazed back at them. Clearing his throat, Stiles shot them the dirtiest look he
could muster in an attempt to fool them. However, when Erica's sly smile
crossed her face, he knew he was lost.
“Sup chew toys?” Stiles said, hoping to lighten the mood. Though when Erica's
smile was joined with Boyd's and Isaac's, he knew he was fucked.
Stiles and the pack made it over to the Stilinski house after they all had a
good laugh at Stiles' expense and the teen tried to dress Derek's body without
looking at the wolf more than he had too.
He already had an inferiority complex, thank you.
Scott's bike was haphazardly strewn on the lawn as he pulled the Camaro up into
the driveway by his Jeep and fumbled with the spare key under the potted plant.
They walked up through the stairs, Stiles feeling awkward as he opened his own
bedroom door.
As soon as they were all in, Stiles found himself pinned up against the door
by...himself and let out a whimper that probably didn't ever belong coming out
of Derek's mouth.
“What the hell did you do, Stiles?” Derek growled, though it sounded less
threatening coming from the teen's own voice. The scowl Derek had plastered
over Stiles' face didn't help either. It was like a cross between a grimace and
constipation.
“Oh my god! I thought we were past the whole wall shoving phase in our
relationship! Jesus Derek, stop touching yourself!” Stiles cracked, letting out
a little laugh that made the entire room cringe. “Note to self: do not laugh in
this body, it is creepy and sends fear into the hear--”
“Shut. Up. STILES.” Derek snarled, slamming him harder into the door. Stiles
blinked, licking his lips as he let his mouth hang open slightly as he thought
about what to say. “And for god sake, keep my mouth shut.” Derek dropped him
and stalked over to Stiles' bed to cross his arms and brood.
Which looked ridiculous.
“Ok. So... now that we've established it isn't just me going crazy, what are we
going to do?” Stiles asked, shoving his hands in his pockets and then deciding
that probably looked just as stupid as Derek brooding in his body.
“Well... we could call Deaton?” Scott suggested, Derek letting out a snarl what
really just sounded like a snort from Stiles' mouth. Stiles however smiled and
patted Scott.
“Awesome, yeah. Let's talk to him.” Scott rose a brow, slipping a little bit
away from Stiles.
“Dude, don't ever smile like that again. It looks like you want to eat me.” the
whole pack agreed, shooting looks between Derek and Stiles.
“Fine.” Derek finally muttered, standing up and looking over the group with a
dark glare that normally would have gotten the room in silence. Now, it just
made Erica bubble over with laughter and Isaac slap on a sloppy grin.
They had their work cut out for them.
When they arrived at Deaton's Vet Clinic, Stiles was getting a little nervous
about everything that was happening. What if he was always stuck in Derek's
body? What if he had to actually be an Alpha wolf for the rest of his life?
Stiles didn't even know how to control his own body sometimes, so how the hell
was he supposed to control himself as a wolf?
“Stand still.” Derek snapped, Stiles' face pulled in a deep scowl.
“Dude, would you stop with the face? I look more stupid than usual.” Stiles
quipped back, giving him a furrowed brow back. The two stared at each other,
Stiles finding it alarming to be looking into his own eyes when trying to go
toe-to-toe with the sourwolf.
“Control yourself.” Derek said finally, turning away first. “You made my Alpha
eyes flash” Stiles blinked, looking down and sure enough his nails now had a
little bit of a point to them. He shook them away and scrubbed his hands over
his face.
“Ug, this sucks!” he crossed his arms and pouted as Deaton walked in. He
blinked, looking between Derek and Stiles and then letting out a knowing 'Huh'.
“I see you two are victim of a Body-Switching spell. Any trouble with witches
these last few weeks?” Stiles and Derek shared a look while Erica cleared her
throat and smiled.
“Yeah, last night. Little virgin was going to be a sacrifice until we showed
up.” she smirked, crossing her arms and leaning into Boyd like he was a wall.
The bigger teen didn't see to mind though, wrapping his arm around her waist
protectively. A sudden spicy scent filled Stiles' nose and he let his jaw drop.
“Oh holy FUCK! I can smell that you want to do her Boyd!” everyone in the room
looked instantly uncomfortable, Stiles clamping his mouth shut and mimicking a
key locking his lips together. He grabbed one of Derek's – Stiles'? – hands and
place the invisible key in it and patted the hand closed. Derek just rose one
brow and turned back to Deaton.
“You said a Body-Switching spell? As in there is more than one?” Deaton nodded,
smiling softly.
“Yes. Usually the person who casts the spell determines the type of spell,
there is the typical 'I'm in your body, you're in mine' spell, or there is a
whole host of 'I can switch bodies with just the words' spells. Most spells--”
“The witch said Alli permutat anima kimota three times.” Stiles said, finding
it rather difficult to be quiet in a situation like this. Derek nodded in
agreement, the vet looking between the two of them.
“Might I just say that this reversal of Derek talking and Stiles staying quiet
has even me a little uncomfortable.” the pack nodded in agreement and Scott
made a little 'hell yea' comment. “Anyways, that spell? Alli pernutat anima
kimota... He/she/it preoccupies the soul of others through Kimota...” Deaton
paused, grabbing a book from under his desk and flipping through it quickly.
“Through the Namesake.” he looked up. “Did you say each others names?”
Stiles thought for a minute, thinking about everything he had said that night
then he groaned.
“I did sarcastically say Derek's name as soon as my gag was off... it was the
first name I said after the spell finished.” they all turned to Derek, the man
letting his face slump as he looked to the ground.
“I threatened Stiles under my breath after I heard him say my name.” he
muttered, crossing his arms and looking up at the vet. “What does this mean? Is
there a way to reverse it?”
Deaton was quiet, looking through the book as he pointed out the spell. Derek
took the book, Stiles' fingers leafing through the pages with agility the teen
didn't know he had. But of course, Derek was going to be a much better him.
Stiles couldn't even really work Derek's body without feeling like he was
puffing his chest out too much or tripping over the larger feet. He had found
it too difficult to drive in the Camaro to begin with, but add in the new fifty
pounds or so of muscle and body he couldn't even cross his legs without looking
stupid.
But Derek, for some reason, could make Stiles' body look like a fucking dream
to have. The motions were fluid, long limbs moving like they had a purpose and
that they didn't just flail uselessly around. Derek made Stiles look like a
normal person, mouth completely shut and eyes steady in concentration. He was
jealous.
“Full moon.” Derek grunted finally. “It was on a full moon... we have to live
like... this for a month?” Deaton cleared his throat, tapping the page and
shaking his head. Derek let out a snarl and looked up. “A BLUE moon?! There
isn't another one of those until Augest. You don't expect me to...” he looked
up and down his borrowed body and then snarled at Stiles.
“You should have stayed home last night.” Derek growled, this time getting it
right with Stiles' voice. Stiles let out a whimper and cowered slightly, making
Erica burst out in fits of giggles.
“Oh my god, best day ever.” Derek shot her a look, but she didn't seem phased
by the snarl of teeth from Stiles' face.
“Y'know, I'm starting to think that this is going to be the best three months
of my life.” Stiles said dryly, looking down at the body. A thought then
occurred to him.
“How am I going to go to the BATHROOM?” the whole group looked at him with a
large 'why did you open your mouth, Stiles' look. The boy huffed, crossing his
arms and sulked.
“It's going to be weird is all I'm saying. Touching the other person's....
WHAT?” Derek had grabbed Stiles' – Derek's – hand and all but flung it away
from his body. Stiles paused and then let his eyes get wide as he looked over
him. “OH MY GOD! Ego much! I'm not going to—”
“Stop. Talking. Now.” Derek growled, and Stiles did.
***** Chapter 2 *****
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes
 They all decided the best course of action was to try and get Derek
comfortable without his wolf and then to get Stiles in control of the wolf. In
short, a training session in the back of the old Hale house.
“Alright, give me some Eye of the Tiger, Chariots of Fire, I wanna run up the
stairs of an art museum and lift my furry hands up in the--” Stiles stopped
when everyone stared at him, his hands half raised in the air and a smile
plastered across Derek's face. “C'mon, Rocky? Gonna Fly Now? Really?”
“Shut up” Derek grumbled from the side, trying to bench-press weights and
finding it frustrating when he could only do fifteen reps.
“Hey! Don't wear my body out! I need that for things later in life, like,
moving.” he pouted, looking over the group and sighing. “When the hell is my
Mr. Miyagi? I thought you said he would--” Stiles was thrown to the ground, his
teeth clacking from the force as he moaned in pain.
“Wasn't there a saying? When the student is ready, the teacher will appear?”
Peter Hale grinned, placing his foot on Stiles' – Derek's – back and squishing
him to the floor. “I don't think you're ready, but since I'm looking forward to
beating up on you, I'm here.”
Stiles jerked under his foot, with a surprise jarring Peter off and onto the
floor for the forest. The teen grinned wide and struck a pose.
“That's right, who's the big, BAMF wolf now?” he let out a mock howl that
erupted into an actual howl. That earned Derek slapping a hand over his mouth
and pulling him down to the ground again.
“SHUT.UP.” He snarled, putting Stiles' foot on his chest and leaning in really
close. “Of all the stupid, childish, naïve, idiots who had to find their way
into my body. Why the hell was it you?” Stiles had to remind himself it was
Derek talking in his body, not himself saying these things.
“Mh forrw” he said through the hand, pulling it off and looking away from his
own face. “I really didn't... mean to. That time.” he bit down on the lip and
felt something like shame creep over his face. Which was weird, because Stiles
thought he lost his shame a long time ago.
Derek stood up, looking over him with something and then shook it off as he
walked away. He didn't even offer a hand to Stiles to help him up. Stiles
rolled up but was kicked back down by Peter who smiled hungrily at him.
“Get up with just your feet.” he stated, “Flip up, control the strength.” Peter
looked him over slowly, smiling. “You need to be used to your body before
tapping into the power of the wolf.”
“Oh my god, forget Mr. Miyagi. You're Giles from Buffy! Quick say something
snarky about Americans in an British accent! OH! No, just say 'For as long as
there have been vampires, there has been the Slayer. One gi--”
Peter slammed his elbow into his stomach and Stiles lost his breath, growling
as he rolled up and tackled Peter to the ground by the neck, gripping him
tightly.
“Now, nice to know the wolf still lives inside Derek. How about we dial him
down a notch though.” Stiles blinked a little, looking down to the claws that
were firmly around the throat of Peter. Stiles stood up, brushing himself off.
Peter jumped up, dusting off his jacket and smiling.
“Well, shall we begin for real this time?”
“OH my god. I'm going to die from this lack of food!” Stiles groaned as he was
knocked down for the bajillionth time that afternoon. Derek and the rest of the
group had gone on a burger run as the training began to turn from Stiles
controlling his aggression and desire to let the wolf out, to Peter beating the
shit out of Derek's body.
“You'll be fine. Get up and try it again.” Stiles grumbled as he rolled off the
ground and shifted his fangs and claws out. He always felt weird, wondering if
it was just because this wasn't his body or if this was really how it felt to
be the wolf. Either way, he hated the feeling.
“I don't really feel like being a wolf anymore. Can we just sk--” Peter's fist
connected with Stiles' borrowed face, sending him to the ground and sprawling
him out. He sighed, getting up and rubbing his jaw. “I think you're enjoying
this toomuch.” he felt the crick of his body as something fell back into place
and he let out a moan.
“Maybe.” Peter kicked him in the gut now, sending him on his back. Stiles
thought about not getting up, he also thought about hiding in his bedroom for
the rest of summer and just watching Anime. Maybe catching up on all the books
he had been missing out on, edit Wikipedia, ignore the urge to kill on the full
moon.
Ok, so maybe hiding wasn't the best plan, but neither was getting the crap
kicked out of you by Peter.
“Let him eat” a voice, his voice broke over, Derek coming back with a huge bag
of.. Stiles sniffed the air.
“Oh sweet lord, is that a bag of only curly fries?!” Scott beamed at him,
nodding as he sat down next to him and cracked his other bag open to reveal a
pile of bacon cheeseburgers.
“Trust me, I know what it's like to suddenly be a wolf.” Stiles nodded,
grabbing a burger and wolfing it down without too much chewing.
“Holy shit, these taste amazing!” Stiles moaned, licking his lips and grabbing
another burger. Derek just watched him with a look before handing over the bag
and walking to talk with Peter.
Stiles, being the ever curious man, listened into their conversation with his
new found wolf ears.
“Derek, as much as I enjoy beating up on your meat suit, I don't think this is
going to teach him to control the wolf. What he needs is--”
“Not something I want to show him. Now, is he going to be alright in my body?”
Derek asked, his voice a little lower pitched as he tried to convey
seriousness. Which Stiles had previously thought was impossible with his voice.
“He'll be fine. It's you I worry about, Derek” Stiles could feel Derek tense up
at the statement. Peter's voice low and in control.
“I think Stiles said something about Lacrosse practice and parties. Derek, you
are going to be a teenager.” the older wolf grinned wide, patting him on the
shoulder and walking towards the group. Derek didn't seem happy about this
concept, grumbling low as he followed Peter over.
“Ok, when you tell him, just relax and smile and be a little hesitant. Oh! But
not too hesitant, he'll pick up on that. And... ahh... just be nice. Don't
threaten to rip his throat out or throw him against a wall just--”
“Stiles.” Derek interrupted the soliloquy, shooting him a dark look. “I know
how to talk to your father.” they were sitting in the Camaro in the Stilinski
driveway, trying to figure out the best way for Derek and Stiles to handle
this. For right now, they decided that Stiles spending the night with Scott was
the best course of action.
Derek got out of the car, stretching slightly and making his way to the
Stilinski door. Stiles closed his eyes, trying to listen to the conversation
from the car. He found that this power, super hearing, was his favorite part of
the whole body switch. Also, the healing was pretty wicked.
Tuning into the conversation now, Stiles could hear the calming heartbeats of
his father and Derek, the slight stutter of something and then.
“Dad?” the voice sounded normal, like he had been practicing it for a while.
Stiles could almost see how his father would look up, the eyes crinkling with a
small smile as he urged Stiles wordlessly to get everything out. “Scott was
wondering if I could stay over tonight.”
“I'm amazed you actually asked.” the sheriff replied, smiling. “Alright, but
the toll is the dishes.” Stiles snorted, imagining Derek protesting the work
and crossing his arms in a huff. But, shock beyond shock, Stiles heard Derek
laugh slightly.
“Ok, Dad. I'll hop to it.”
“Damn right, Son.” there was the sound of a hand being clapped on a shoulder
and then the shuffle of bodies moving in their own direction. Stiles, sliding
out of the Camaro and up the side of the house. He felt pretty sneaky as he
slid into his bedroom window silently and began rooting through the clothing
and such.
He managed to grab his DS and laptop, knowing he wouldn't survive the summer
without those, and then went through the bookshelf in hopes of gathering some
of those. So, of course, the door opened and the sheriff walked in.
The two of them stared at each other, Stiles a little wide eyed as his dad took
a deep breath and then spoke in a low voice.
“He's not going to Scott's is he?” Stiles didn't know how to handle this, how
would Derek handle this? WWDD: What Would Derek Do? He set his jaw and furrowed
his brows, nodding slowly and silently.
“He's going to be at your place.” this wasn't a question, it was a statement.
And while Stiles knew how he would react in this situation, Derek was a
mystery.
“Because you two are...” here, the sheriff trailed off, allowing Stiles – Derek
– to fill in the blanks.
“Fucking.” Stiles tried, throwing up a shoulder shrug for added effect. The
Sheriff, at first, was wide-eyed and open mouthed. Then, and this part stung,
he laughed. He laughed so hard that tears were coming from his eyes and he had
to clutch the door frame to steady himself.
“Oh! Oh my... I didn't know you were a funny guy! All those times we were in
the interrogation room together and you never cracked jokes? I didn't think you
had it in you!” the man straightened up, looking over Derek once more and
letting a sigh of relief flood through him.
“Not to be mean, but to be honest... You don't look like someone that Stiles
would be interested in. For one, your hair isn't red--”
“Strawberry blonde.” Stiles corrected, but the sheriff took it as 'Derek' being
funny again and nodded.
“Yeah, that. And you're kinda...” he motioned to Derek's body, and then nodded
down stairs “and he's kinda...” he made a small spastic motion with his arms to
symbolize Stiles.
“My son is a fine catch, don't get me wrong. But--” he said, looking over
Derek. “You'd probably break him.” that made Stiles laugh softly, the two of
them sharing an easy moment. Finally, silence set in and the sheriff cleared
his throat.
“It's... good. That he's making friends other than Scott. I... I was worried.
But-- I see him around with Lahey and Boyd all the time, Boyd even drove him
home the other night from the party. I..” he smiled to Stiles, nodding. “I'm
feeling better about leaving him alone, knowing he has friends. Knowing he has
older people looking out for him. Even if --” he paused, looking over Derek.
“You didn't kill Kate did you?” Stiles shook his head, swallowing hard and
gripping his fists tightly. “But you wish you did.” the Sheriff filled in,
looking over the posture Stiles has forced Derek's body into without meaning
to. Stiles paused, looking over his father and took a deep breath.
“Some days.” Stiles wasn't even talking from Derek's point of view, he himself
had wanted to kill Kate for what she almost did to Scott, and he guessed for
burning down Derek's house. But that was just a minor part of it.
“Glad you didn't though. Melissa says you've been watching over Scott and
Stiles when we can't. And this might sound a bit terrible, but Stiles needs a
little extra watching.” the sheriff said slowly, running a hand through his
hair. “That kid's been raising me since Aria died... It's good that he can be a
kid every once in a while, y'know?”
Stiles felt his heart sink, did he worry his father that much? He always hated
lying to him, hated being that son, but there was nothing he could do. He then
felt his heart rise.
“Mr. Stilinski. I have to tell you something. Ms. McCall knows, so it's only
fair you know too.” he took a deep breath. “Scott, Isaac, Boyd, Erica... me?
We're--”
“Derek.” there was a voice from behind them, Derek walking into the room with a
somewhat confused expression on his face. It grew hard when he saw the two of
them talking. “What's going on?”
“I'm telling him the truth” Stiles said, not breaking eye contact with the
Sheriff. Derek growled a little.
“That's not your secret to Tell” he said quietly, though if Derek had been in
his body, the red alpha eyes would have flashed. Stiles, however, didn't back
down.
“Yes it is. Mr. Stilinski--”
“John, you can call me John.” John said softly, looking between Stiles and
Derek like he was confused. “Is this something I shouldn't want to know about?”
“Yes””Probably” Derek and Stiles said together, the two catching eyes and
sending looks at each other. John just rose a brow and crossed his arms.
“One of you, spill it.” surprisingly, it was Derek who spoke up first.
“Derek is a werewolf.” he grunted, crossing his arms. He nodded to Stiles who
slowly let his fangs and claws slide free. The sheriff, however, just laughed.
“Honestly, you don't think Melissa and I talk? I've known since after you were
taken by that 'Gerard' after the Lacrosse game.” Derek let Stiles' mouth hang
open, his eyes wide as he gazed over the man. Stiles, managing to keep his
shock from showing on his face, slid the fangs and claws back in.
“Though, I am a little surprised my son didn't ask to be bitten too.” he turned
to Stiles' in Derek's body and pointed a finger on him. “I want him human until
he's 18. Then he can decided for himself if he wants to be--”
“Trust me, I don't want to-- Stiles said without thinking, looking over to
Derek who was now looking away from the two of them, arms crossed and
defensive. And suddenly he realized that Derek didn't want to bite him. Didn't
want him in the pack with the others. In fact, the only reason he probably kept
Stiles around was so Scott would continue to be in the pack. It hurt, knowing
he wasn't wanted.
“Good. Now, have a good weekend boys, I'll be at the station. So if I get any
reports on drunk teenagers and wild fires, I'll be there.” and with that the
Sheriff walked out of the room.
“OW!” Stiles yelled as they were back in the car, Derek having thrust his head
into the steering wheel once more. “What the--”
“You know what that was for. Drive.” he ordered, throwing Stiles' backpack in
the back seat and crossing his arms in a huff.
“You know what? Fuck this.” he grabbed Derek's borrowed head and slammed it
into the dash board lightly, making him yelp in pain. “Yeah, you like that?
It's called human pain. And I feel it every time you do something shitty.” he
was about to do it again when Derek let out a whimper and curled his hands over
his head. He let out another whimper, looking over to Stiles and growling.
“I didn't do anything you didn't deserve.” he snapped, turning away and
sighing. “Just, fucking drive.” he rubbed his head some more, making Stiles
feel almost sorry he had done it.
Almost.
They drove in relative silence to Derek's loft, Stiles not wanting to say
anything and Derek still whimpering in pain. When they finally got to the loft,
everyone was there. And by everyone, Stiles meant everyone.
Allison and Chris Argent sat on the couch, Scott between them and Danny off to
the side on one of the arms. Boyd and Erica were on the loveseat, looking over
as Stiles and Derek walked in and went straight to the kitchen where Isaac and
Peter were sitting on the counters drinking soda.
“Well, well, about time you two showed up. What did you do? Get lost on the way
here, Stilinski?” Peter asked, teasing his nephew as he walked over and gave
Stiles' body a head rub.
“Whoa! Hey! Bad touch on my body! Don't think that just because Derek's inside
me you can get all hands-y too!” Stiles waved his hands in the air, suddenly
realizing how wrong that whole sentence sounded.
“Oh my god, NO! No I didn't... no! Stiles does not want to be the filling of a
wolf crème pie.” he then realized he was just making things worse and proceeded
to flap his arms.
“NO! OH my god! I didn't! NO NO NO! Stiles No likey! No no no--”
“Oh would someone shut the buffoon UP?” Peter asked, rolling his hands through
his hair. Stiles clamped his mouth shut, looking over to Scott for assistance.
But of course the boy was distracted by Allison and her wonder dimples. He
sighed, sliding up onto the counter with Isaac and offering a small grin.
The boy scooted away. Stiles really hated being in Derek's body.
“Alright, now that I see Deaton was telling the truth, we should probably set
boundaries.” Chris was talking now, standing up and looking over the group.
“For one, Derek... I mean Stiles, shouldn't be with his father at anytime. He
could accidentally scent-mark him or worse. Stiles... Derek should also
continue to do what the teen would normally do. Danny and Scott have offered to
watch you during practices and make sure people don't give you a hard time.”
Derek grunted, crossing his arms and looking over Danny who was eying Stiles'
body suspiciously. Not that Stiles really minded, after much pestering Danny
had told Stiles he was attractive.
When he shut up.
Which, apparently since Derek was in casa Stilinski, meant now. He really
wanted to punch something, like his own face. They all nodded, however,
agreeing that this was probably for the best. Stiles sighed, sliding off the
counter and walking forward to lean against the wall.
“So, let's see. I have to stay inside and Derek gets to live my life? You know
the sad part, he would probably get laid as me before I get laid myself.”
“Probably” Danny agreed, shrugging when Stiles gave him a hurt look.
“No one is doing anything sexual.” Derek growled, turning to Stiles and giving
him the dirtiest look he could muster. “Do not touch my c--”
“Oh my GOD! Seriously?! Do you think I-- I mean, it's not like I'm into-- No
offense Danny, but really?” Danny shrugged again, keeping the nonchalant
expression as Stiles babbled. “You think I'm going to just plop down and say
'huh, I wonder what Derek's boy feels like when he's or--”
“Ok, I'm putting a vote to ending this conversation!” Isaac said, lifting his
hand up and looking around the room.
“Oh c'mon Isaac! This is better than an MTV special. Just let them argue some
more, I find the sexual tension amazing.”
“ERICA, SHUT UP!” the two yelled, Derek snapping his teeth and Stiles actually
flashing the Alpha eyes at her. She backed off, holding her hands up and
wiggling deeper into the back of the love seat.
“Oh my god, really? Can't I have my little OTP moment?” she huffed, nuzzling
into Boyd. “Whatever, I vote we just all go to bed.” the group gladly agreed
and Derek was led by Scott out of the loft. When Stiles was finally alone in
the big loft with just Isaac, he swallowed and looked over the boy.
“Don't you live somewhere?” he asked, walking to the fridge to inspect what
Derek had to eat.
Nothing.
His stomach growled and he pulled out Derek's cellphone to dial pizza. Isaac
grabbed the phone from him and hung up before shoving it back at Stiles.
“I live here. With Derek.” he said, “We don't call, we pick up our food. Just
in case.” Stiles just nodded as the boy grabbed his jacket. “I'll be right
back.”
And Stiles was alone.
He didn't know how long he had been asleep when he heard his phone go off. Well
Derek's phone. Reluctantly, he picked it up and pressed it to his ear.
“What?” he growled. He thought it sounded very convincing that Derek was the
one talking. The other end was quiet for a moment, nothing at all.
“Stiles.” the voice was a little wary, almost far away. Stiles blinked, looking
at the phone foe the caller ID. He frowned when he realized it was his number
and put the phone back to his ear.
“Derek?” there was silence again and then a small noise that sounded like a
whimper. But Derek didn't whimper did he? “Derek er... are you ok?” he asked,
shifting a little as he sat up looking for real pants.
“Just can't sleep, your body is still filled with your damn Adderall.” he
growled a little, Stiles having to listen in really close to even hear the
words.
“Oh... ok? So, you just decided to have a chat with me at... Oh-my-god in the
morning?” Stiles teased, Derek huffing on the other line.
“I don't know how to play lacrosse.” Stiles snorted, rolling his eyes.
“Yeah right, I bet you were all sports all the time back in high--” he stopped,
there was a small hitch on the other end of the phone and Stiles blinked.
“You... you did play sports right? Like... Football or... or Soccer?
Basketball?” silence. “Really? None?”
“I couldn't control the shift well enough when I was younger.” he said softly
into the phone, Stiles could feel the tension starting to rise again so he
moved the conversation forward.
“So, what did you do? Art? Did you draw or paint or--”
“Orchestra.” Derek interrupted. The silence that followed was a little tense.
“I played in the orchestra with Laura.”
“Oh, well. That's cool... were you a percussion or like... wind? Oh no! Bet you
were string, had a little violin you'd carry to school.”
“I--” he was quiet again, “I don't know why I'm telling you this.” Derek said
finally, “I should just--”
“NO please? I just... I want to know, Y'know? If you're taking up residence in
Hotel Stiles, the least you can do is--”
“Piano. I would play the piano.” it was soft, like he was telling a secret to
Stiles and no one else could know. He felt a small blush creep over his face
and tried to think about anything other than Derek Hale telling him something
private.
“After school, on Tuesdays Laura and I had private lessons. She would play the
Cello, we'd often have duets together at concerts and Mom and Dad would have us
play for the family all the time. Annoying really.”
It was quiet again, Stiles feeling like it was his turn to confess something
about his past, but he couldn't think of anything.
“My mom used to play the piano.” he said finally, looking down in the bed. “But
we couldn't afford one so she would always go to that piano store. The one in
the mall? It had that grand out front that said 'try me'? She would sit with me
when I was younger for hours, playing pieces and just enjoying it. She said she
was going to buy that grand one day, put it right in our living room and play
it until the sun came up.”
Stiles rubbed a hand through his hair and then tugged it down remembering that
this wasn't his hair to play with. They were quiet once more, Stiles checking
the phone to make sure Derek hadn't hung up on him.
“I didn't know that was your mom.” Derek said finally, clearing his throat. “I
would, uh, play with her some times. She would always ask to see my sheet
music...” he cleared his throat again. “She said she wanted to play with me
sometime but--”
“But she never came back?” Stiles filled in, Derek's silence telling him he hit
it right on the money. He cleared his throat, closing his eyes as he tried to
fight the lump in his throat. Of all the people he could get emotional to,
Derek was not his first choice.
“She was good.” Derek said finally, a breath of something escaping him. “I
should go to bed. I-- you have practice in the morning. Uh, thanks.”
“Yeah, yeah. If you need to talk y'know--”
“Yeah. Uh. Same to you. Oh and, if you tell anyone I told you this--”
“You'll deny it and rip my throat out. Got it. Night Derek.” there was a pause,
Stiles thinking Derek hung up and then.
“Night Stiles.” and when Stiles hung up the phone, he immediately looked up
Mozart's Sonata for Two Pianos in D, K. 448, his mother's favorite piece.
And then he curled on his side and cried himself to sleep.


Chapter End Notes
     -Sigh- I was watching Teen Wolf (again) and Derek was thrown against
     a piano in his old house, and that sparked my whole 'Derek can play
     Piano' kink...
     (http://media.tumblr.com/1bd4fbc6981f56b1ad4e1ddce555296b/
     tumblr_inline_mftxh8Z1OP1rb57s5.png)
     Also Mozart's Sonata for Two Pianos in D, K. 448 (first movement):
     http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=v58mf-PB8as
***** Chapter 3 *****
Chapter Notes
     Masturbation. There is that in this chapter.
     Also Pain. Man Pain.
     See end of notes for warnings.
See the end of the chapter for more notes
 “Ah yes, watching teenaged boys beat the shit out of each other is just how I
like to spend my mornings.” Peter grumbled in the car as Stiles and Isaac drove
up to Lacrosse practice that morning. Isaac rushed out of the Camaro as fast as
he could and hopped over the fence to escape Peter's morning rant.
Apparently he did this every morning.
“We don't have to stay if you don't want to.” Stiles said, though he really
wanted to watch and see how well Derek was doing. There might have been a
little bit of jealousy too, since Stiles really loved Lacrosse and he liked
(most of) the teammates. He even liked Greenberg.
“No, it's fine.” Peter huffed, getting out of the car and walking to the stands
where Erica and Allison were sitting. They sat down as well, Erica smiling over
at them and Allison shyly waving to Stiles.
“Hi.” Allison said, turning to talk to Stiles from the field. “He's doing--”
“Stilinski! It's like you haven't played Lacrosse in your life! Take the damn
stick out of your ass and RUN!” Finstock yelled, slapping Derek over the head
with his clipboard.
“--better than he was last night with Scott...” she said, blushing lightly as
she turned back to watch the field.
“Faster, Faster Greenberg! FASTER STILINSKI!” the team was running laps, all of
them keeping a pretty steady pace, Stiles didn't know why the coach was yelling
at him. They watched for a little longer, until Erica started to pull the
conversation back to something other than lacrosse.
“So, how was waking up in Derek-ville again, Stiles? Did you find it better
than the first night?” she asked, leaning against him and nearly purring.
Stiles felt a little uncomfortable, pushing her away.
“It was fine. I didn't really do much, just slept. Ate. I should probably take
a shower tonight..” he paused when she gave him the biggest smile of all time.
He frowned, rolling his eyes and sighing. “I'm just going to shower Erica. I
wont't do anything else.”
“Right, you'll just wash up and down Derek's naked body while closing your eyes
and pretending it was--”
“Ok! We're done with this discussion. Forever. No, you know what? Five-ever.
Because four is not enough.” Peter rose a brow as Stiles huffed, the teen
settling back into the bleachers with his shoulders slumped.
And he brooded.
Damn was he good at it.
The practice came to an end, all of them going to the showers when Finstock
took Derek aside and Stiles happened to listen in.
“What the hell, Stilinski? You were like a freshman on the field. And
seriously, I think Greenberg made more saves than you today. And Greenberg
sucks. What happened?” Derek shifted slightly, looking down at the ground.
“I'm not feeling like myself, coach.” he said honestly, Finstock putting a hand
on his shoulder and patting it lightly.
“We all have those days when we feel like something we're not. But remember.
Lacrosse is all about feeling like someone else! You don't have to be
Whateveryourfirstnameis Stilinski on the field! You can be... whoever the hell
you wanna be! Tarzan, Hercules, Maximus! You could even be... Be that guy over
there. Be muscles in leather! He looks like he could play lacrosse.” Stiles
could hear Derek's heart sink from the stands, the man clenching his jaw and
taking a deep breath.
“Coach, I'll do better on Monday. Promise.” Derek said resolutely, gripping the
lacrosse stick tighter and nodding.
“See to it. Now, go shower. You smell like my great aunt Nillie. And boy, is
that a woman you don't want to sit next to on Christmas dinner. Go go go!” he
tweeted his whistle and Derek ran off to the showers.
Stiles was waiting for Derek by the time he got out of the shower, taking his
leather jacket off and grabbing a stick and ball.
“Ok, so. I'm going to teach you Lacrosse and you're going to like it.” he said,
tossing the ball at the man who barely had time to grab it with his hand before
Stiles was running over.
“You can't teach me lacrosse over night, Stiles.” Derek frowned, throwing the
ball and looked shocked when Stiles' caught it. “I'm not a good listener.
You'll get frustrated and give up.”
Stiles huffed, putting the ball on the ground and got down on his hands and
knees, positioning his stick parallel. Derek tilted his head and grabbed his
own stick. He twirled it in his hands and looked over Stiles.
“What are you doing? It looks ridiculous.” Stiles was stretching out, doing
quad stretches and wiggling his ass as he did.
“I'm stretching. Because I'm going to kick your ass and I won't even use your
cheating wolf powers! I'll just win by my supreme awesome abilities.” he smiled
up from the ground. “Alright, now. Get down here and face-off.” Derek hesitated
again, but got down to mimic Stiles' position.
“Shouldn't we put on helmets?” Derek asked.
“Are you scared I'm going to hurt you?” Stiles asked with a waggle of eyebrows
and an open mouth. Derek grimaced and Stiles suddenly realized what that might
look like on Derek's face. “Sorry, I should learn to control my facial
expressions when-- HEY!”
Derek had scooped the ball up in his net and started to race off towards
Stiles' goal. He shot a look back at Stiles, eyebrows waggling and mouth open.
“Thought you were gonna kick my ass.” he shouted back, flicking the ball into
the net and listening to the swoosh of it going through. “That's Hale 1-
Stilinski 0.” he grinned a little, flicking the ball out and going for another
face off.
“Yeah, well. That was beginner's luck. I totally--” Stiles stopped in the
middle of his sentence as he grabbed the ball and ran towards Derek's goal. “-
- can kick your ass without really try--” Derek ran shoulder first into Stiles'
stomach, knocking the wind out and sending him sprawling. Derek grabbed the
ball and flung it into Stiles' net.
“Hale 2-Stilinski 0. Right.” he tapped the stick on the ground as he flung the
ball back into the middle of the field. “We can call it quits anytime, you
know.”
“Oh ha ha. You think you're so smart Derek I-don't-know-your-middle-name Hale.
But really, I'm going to start with the ass kicking. Nnnnnnnnnoooooooooooww” he
took the ball without a face off, sliding past Derek and racing towards the net
without looking back. He flicked his wrist and the ball went soaring, into
Danny's net.
“Oh COME ON! That's not even fair!” Danny smiled, nodding over to Stiles' goal
where Scott stood. Isaac and Boyd both walked out with sticks, grinning like
mad men.
“Let's do a little scrimmage. Isaac, Stiles, Scott. You, me, Boyd. What about
it, Derek?” Danny asked, winking at Derek and twirling his stick. Derek let a
smirk slide over Stiles' face and twirled his own stick.
“Perfect.”
“You suck. Like huge, hairy ass, werewolf suck” Stiles sulked as they walked
into Derek's loft the next day, flopping on the couch in an angry huff and
crossing his arms. “This is me, brooding. Stewing in anger at my best friend's
betrayal. How could you? It's Saturday night! We're... we're supposed to go to
the party together and we were gonna be cool! For once in our lives, Scott, we
were invited to the BIGGEST summer BBQ of all ti--”
“Dude, it's weird. And besides, you're like... not you. So... People will
know.” Scott said, shuffling his feet and looking away. “It's just a small
party, it's not like--”
“But Scott...” Stiles whined. “If I don't go, everyone will talk about it and I
won't know!” he rolled off the couch onto the floor and groaned loudly.
“Scotttttt”
“Oh my god, Derek! Go to the party so Stiles will stop whining.” Peter snapped,
Derek looking up from the counter in the kitchen where he was pouring milk.
“No.” he said simply, downing the glass and pouring a new one. Stiles whined
again.
“Plllleeeeeaaaaassseeeeeeee?” he begged, looking up at him. “You can get drunk
in my body. You can! I'm totally cool with you being booze happy!” Derek
actually blinked at that, looking over to Stiles and tilting his head.
“You'd let me intoxicate your teenaged body, just so you could say you were at
this party?” the words were careful, thought out and as if he was actually
considering it. Stiles hesitated.
“Uh, yeah? Why not? If I was going, I'd totally be wasted. Like, I would be so
hammered by the end of the night, Scott would have to drag me back.” Derek
turned to Scott who nodded in agreement.
“It's true. Greenberg throws the best parties.” he shrugged a little. “So, does
that mean I'm the D.D again?” Stiles looked up hopefully, eyes wide and hopeful
as Derek thought for a minute longer.
“The whole pack has to go.” Stiles looked between Erica and Boyd, the two of
them agreeing to come. Isaac just shrugged, smiling with a nod. Derek sighed,
turning to Stiles. “You owe me.”
“OH THANK GOD!” Stiles let out a little cheer. “Yes! Whatever you want, I am
yours on bended knee and bowed head! Thank you, Mr. Sourwolf, SIR!” he mocked a
salute from his position on the floor, smiling as the wolves all looked at him
with deranged faces.
“What? C'mon. It's been like, two days. We should be used to Derek's face
smiling too much.” Stiles pointed out, flashing too much teeth as he jumped up
from the floor and stretched. Derek was in front of him in no time.
“No funny business with my body. You are to stay inside and wait until the
party is over. I will make sure we are home by midnight.” he growled, making
Stiles nod hard as he swallowed.
“Got it! I'll just play video games and read all night. I'm good just...” Derek
rose a brow, looking over Stiles before the boy smiled.
“Just make me look cool?”
Stiles did stay inside the loft the entire night, mostly eating left over pizza
and junk food while sprawled over the couch and watching something on late
night t.v. He would occasionally check the clock, but when it was well past
midnight and closer to two, he gave up on the hope that they were coming back
to the loft.
He managed to scrape himself off the couch and up the stairs to the bedroom
before stripping off any clothing. Throwing the shirt to the side and stepping
out of the pants, he flopped onto the bed and rolled around in the sheets. He
had already guessed this was the wolf scent-marking his den, and even though it
felt weird to know he was mimicking a dog, it was quite comfortable.
Stiles finally rolled himself up into the sheets like a little cocoon, nuzzling
into the pillows and was about to fall asleep when Derek's phone buzzed. Stiles
growled, grabbing it and sliding it open to read the text.
I left Derek, but he's with Danny and Isaac so I'm not too worried. He was
pretty drunk so he'll probably be dead to the world in the morning . Um, I'll
come over tomorrow? See how you're doing and if you want to catch that movie
still, Zombie Eater 3? Anyways. God this is so weird sending it to Derek's
phone. But... Good night Star-shine. -Scott.
Stiles grinned, quickly tapping out his response.
Awww, Sourwolf had fun. That's good. I hope he drank them all under the table.
Anyways, thanks for being the bestest most amazingest bestest friend five-
ever!!! :) :) :) Good night MOON- Stiles :)
He put the phone back on the nightstand and curled up tighter in the blankets.
Despite him being stuck in an overly-broody wolf, life was pretty good. And
even though Derek and he weren't ever going to be BFF's and braid friendship
bracelets together, at least Derek wasn't threatening to tearhis throat out
anymore.
Which was a huge improvement, in Stiles' opinion.
So, with that in mind, of course Derek's body had to suddenly swing into
'horny' mode. Stiles had dealt with this before, if he continued to think about
the time when he saw Derek's arm pulsing with the wolfsbane bullet wound, he
would lose the erection.
But sadly, not even that softened him. He growled, flipping onto his stomach
and rocking into the bed, trying to not touch the throbbing member. Because
that was weird. Really weird. It wasn't like Stiles was curious about the
wolf's package. No way.
Maybe a little.
For Science!
He just wanted to know if Alpha's possessed a knot. I mean, wolves and dogs
did, and since an Alpha did fully shift into a wolf it would only make sense
that they have one in their human form. That was the only reason he ever wanted
to look down Derek Hale's pants.
For Science.
And, well, sure. He was a little on the awake side now, and Derek's cock was
throbbing for attention. Maybe, just a little peak wouldn't hurt. He licked his
lips, flipping onto his back and kicking off the comforter. Sliding his fingers
down to the edge of Derek's boxer briefs, he fingered the seam of the waistband
and gazed at the ceiling.
“It's just... helping a bro out. Nothing sexual, unless you count the whole
process of jerking off someone else's cock sexual, but who's got time for
speculations like that. It's just, simple, I can't sleep unless it's...
flaccid. I'd totally understand if Derek did the same thing... though I don't
know why he'd wantto...”
Stiles cleared his throat, took a deep breath and slid the boxer briefs off
completely. It was the familiar rush of air on a swollen cock that brought a
gasp to Stiles' lips, his eyes still trained on the ceiling in an attempt to
keep Derek's modesty.
But soon, curiosity for science brought his eyes down to look at the now naked
Derek Hale before him.
And yeah, he was going to have a terrible insecurity problem when he was
finished with this.
The man was a piece of work that would make the statue 'David' weep tears of
pain and frustration. Especially since the cock was much larger than Stiles
could even remember seeing. And, sure enough, at the base was a knot.
“Fucking called it.” Stiles muttered, moving his eyes back up to the ceiling as
he slowly trailed his hands down the abs and gently wrapped his hand around the
thick length. It was shocking, because while the hand around the cock molded
perfectly, Stiles' brain was telling him this was different than touching his
own. And, technically it was.
He would apologize in the morning with coffee and bacon.
Nothing says 'I'm sorry for touching your dick last night' like bacon.
Back to the task at hand, Stiles slowly stroked the cock the way he knew he
liked it. Even strokes on the length and a swipe from the thumb over the tip.
But apparently that wasn't enough for Derek. Stiles sped the pace up, finally
getting somewhere, and then used his free hand to palm his – Derek's – balls.
He moaned, rolling his hips up into his hands and sliding the one palming his
balls to wrap around the base of the cock, circling the knot.
“O-ok, Stiles. You can do this. Just... pressure behind the knot and you should
come. Just... don't think too hard about it. Don't... Don't think about how
this will probably play out in your next 'Stiles' time'. Because you are not
going to think about Derek Fucking Ha—AH!” he let out a shout, the hand
circling the knot in tight pressure sending sparks of pleasure up his body.
“Oh my god! Is that what... holy shit this feels fucking—AH!” he moaned again,
stroking the cock harder as he flung his head back as let out a growl. Come
flowed out of him as he saw stars in the back of his mind. He swallowed,
groaning as he calmed down from the high, breathing heavily.
“Oh shit. Oh fuck I just did that.” the weight of his actions sank in as the
euphoria of an orgasm washed away, Stiles now nervous and twitching. “Shit shit
shit. Good thinking Stilinski. Fuck.” he rolled out of the bed, waddling to the
bathroom and jumping into the shower. He quickly turned the water on and danced
around in the hot spray for a little.
“Oh my god. On a list of Stupid things Stiles' has done, this is like number...
four. Right below Taunting Scott on the first full moon, and right above
tripping into a pool of water with a paralyzed Alpha. Yeah, this stupid.” he
washed Derek's body off with haste, trying to get the bitter taste of stupidity
and the desire to repeat the actions out of his mouth.
So that meant Stiles masturbated in the shower too. He was panting heavily when
he came down from it, knees shaking like they couldn't hold up Derek's enormous
girth any longer. He braced himself on the wall as he tried to regain control.
“Oh my god... oh my god. The best orgasms of my life aren't even mine. What the
hell is this?” he finished the shower quickly, drying off and putting on new
boxer briefs before looking over the soiled sheets on the bed. He huffed,
tugging them off and walking to throw them in the washer. He found spare ones,
(Black; no surprise there) and slid them onto the bed before grabbing the
comforter and curling up in it.
He took deep, calming breaths as he inhaled Derek's scent all around the room,
surrounding him and putting him to sleep.
The next morning, Stiles did make coffee and a full breakfast bar of items. He
made sure to include the 'sorry dude' bacon, though he wouldn't tell Derek was
he was sorry for. The pack came trooping into the loft, all of them smiling and
giddy like they hadn't spent the night before drinking. Scott came in too,
chipper and hungry.
“Hey Stiles.” he chirped, taking a plate of eggs and sausages as they all dug
in. Even Peter managed to make an appearance before noon to eat with them. The
only two who weren't here were Derek and Danny. Which had Stiles a little
worried.
“Dude, you sure Derek was with Danny last night? Like, 100% sure that--”
“Trust me. He was with Danny the entire night.” Isaac threw in, smiling
brightly. “I even dropped them both off at Danny's house before going back to
Scott's. It's totally fine.” Stiles just nodded, smiling as he sat down to eat.
They finished off the food and Erica and Boyd even finished up the dishes
before the door swung open and a very hung over Derek stumbled through the
door. He didn't even say hello, just made a beeline to the coffee and all but
drank the entire pot.
“Good morning, Hangover” Stiles smiled, glad he wasn't feeling the effects of
that. “Did you drink a whole liquor store of something?” Derek shot him a dark
look and he continued to sip from his fourth cup of coffee.
The room was quiet, light chatter about the party was floating around as Stiles
listened to it with a smile. Derek's phone vibrated and Stiles picked it up to
flip open the text.
Stiles- I am so sorry about last night. I know it wasn't you, and I feel
terrible about it now, but... Well, we were drunk and he just... attacked me.
I'm sorry again and I hope this doesn't ruin our friendship. And, well. If you
are ever back in your own body and want to relive the experience, I would be
willing. You are very attractive. -Danny.
Stiles blinked at the text, looking up to Derek who was leaning against the
fridge with his eyes closed and mouth open slightly. Fury radiated through his
body for the wolf as he stood up, walking forward and slamming Derek into the
fridge hard.
“What did you DO?!” Stiles hissed through fangs, claws digging into the fabric
of the shirt Derek was wearing. Stiles could smell Armani on him, his body
shaking as he slammed him into the fridge again. “What. Did. You. Do. DEREK?!”
He was silent for a little, the look of shock slowly sliding from Derek's
borrowed face and turning into something that looked like.
Shame.
“I didn't mean for it to happen—” Derek started, looking down to the ground.
“I--”
“You WHAT?” he slammed him again harder on the fridge. “Didn't mean to use my
body for sex with Danny?! Didn't mean to tear away my virginity as a drunken
HOOK UP!?”
“Stiles... it's just sex--”
“BUT IT WASN'T YOURS TO GIVE, DEREK!” Stiles lost his grip on the shirt,
clenching his fist and slamming it into the fridge door just beside Derek's
head. “It was mine. You took my virginity. You... you violated me. You used
me.” Stiles took a deep breath, turning on his heel and walking to the stairs.
“Stiles, I didn't mean--” Derek started, the entire loft looking at the two of
them. Derek walked forward, putting his hand on Stiles' shoulder. The teen
shrugged it off, turning around and snarling.
“You're no better than Kate.” and he stomped up the stairs leaving a
crestfallen Derek below.
Chapter End Notes
     I guess there is Dub/non con since Stiles didn't want the Sex.
     so sorry for that.
     But, technically Derek was in control and he instigated it, I mean...
     just fair warnings.
***** Chapter 4 *****
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes
Stiles had never been really good at staying mad at someone. Like, in his
sophomore year when he tried to be mad at Scott, all the boy really had to do
was look at him with big eyes and a crooked smile.
He was a push-over.
And, he guessed it was alright that he would no longer be a virginal sacrifice.
He was meaning to get rid of that pesky thing since forever. And technically,
the whole losing it was what he had been nervous about. So, in the long run,
Derek had done him a favor. And Danny was a friend, so that just made it
alright.
He was still mad at Danny for actually letting Derek do that, but after the
third or fourth IM apologizing and saying how drunk and stupid he was, Stiles
had to forgive him. Especially since Danny offered to have sex with him when he
was back in his own body.
Which was pretty cool of him.
It did, however, bring up the heated thought of how Danny was attractive and
then made Stiles question what he was actually attracted to. Since, well, he
got off on Derek's body thinking only 'I'm touching Derek Hale's cock'.
Lydia was his dream girl, he didn't want any girl other than her. But, that
didn't mean he didn't want a boy. He had always been sure to say Lydia was his
dream girl and not dream person. So, what did that make him?
He spent the week thinking about all of this information, mulling it over and
recalculating it before finally realizing he was perfectly alright with his
virginity being given to Danny. It didn't even matter to him that he was a guy,
and as much as he protested earlier, Stiles always had wondered what it was
like to be kissed by a guy. Or a girl.
Finally on Friday, after letting Derek stew in the wrath that was Stiles'
pretend anger for a week, he grabbed Derek's phone and dialed his own number.
He thought he would get the answering machine, but there was a rustle and
finally a hesitant voice.
“Stiles?” Derek sounded upset, like he was just waiting for the teen to call.
Stiles knew that desperation, biting his lip and sighing.
“Have you been taking my Adderall?” Derek was silent for a little, the phone
rustling as Derek switched shoulders.
“No.” the voice was weak and hesitant. Stiles sighed, running a hand through
the hair and grunted. Suddenly all the quick-whips and semi-angry ranting he
had planned on giving flew out the window and Stiles suddenly became concerned
for Derek's well being.
Fucking push-over.
“Why the hell not? My body's kinda addicted to it. Are you like, a masochist or
something?” there was silence and Stiles ran a hand over his face. “Don't
answer that. Look, I'm not mad anymore. It's fine. I'm ok with this... lack of
virginity. I mean, I didn't have the sex so it's not like it counted, right? I
mean, I technically haven't had sex and that's all that matters I--”
“I broke our rules.” Derek said finally. “I said we couldn't do anything sexual
and--” he let out something that sounded like a whimper. “It's only fair...”
“Whoa, wait hold on, I'm not going to go out and have sex! If it makes you feel
better I've uh, jerked off a couple times... so that's fair right? I mean--”
“Stiles.” Derek cut into his speech, not even a hint of change in his voice. So
Derek didn't mind he had masturbated in his body? Cool. “It's not the same” he
continued. “I... I don't mind. Ask Erica, she--”
“NO! I do not want to have sex with Erica. Thank you, this conversation has now
reached its final destination. Please exit at the nearest door and watch your
step.” there was actually a chuckle over the phone and Stiles had to make sure
he was still talking to Derek. They were quiet for a while, Stiles scrambling
to find something to say.
“Uh, so. You should take some Adderall before the symptoms get too bad. Like,
how long have you been without it?” Stiles got up from the bed, stretching and
walking around looking for clothing. He should probably do some laundry today,
maybe catch up on his shows. Or he could just curl up on the couch and watch
really bad movies with a bag of Popcorn.
“A week.” Derek said finally, shifting. “I didn't feel like taking it... after
the party. I just never remembered to take it after that.”
“Shit. You must be tired. How the hell did you get through lacrosse practice?”
he grabbed a shirt, sniffing it and pulling it away in disgust. He really
needed to clean.
“Barely. I'm beginning to see why you're always hyper. I'd rather be buzzing
with energy than fatigued.” Derek huffed in the phone, Stiles gathering all the
laundry he could find and shoving it in the hamper to take downstairs.
“Well, take it. Then call me in like four hours and tell me if you're feeling
better, ok?” there was silence and then a throat clearing.
“I'm sorry.” Stiles stopped, blinking as he took a breath.
“Oh my god, did the great Derek Hale just say--”
“I'm sorry, Stiles.” he repeated, making Stiles bite back a smile. “I'm so
sorry I was stupid and... and not thinking. I was wrong. Very wrong. And if I
could, I would take it back. Not only was it your first time, but it was with a
guyand--”
“Oh, no, I'm totally fine with it. I mean, I know what I said but.. I thought
it over, and, it actually would have bothered me more if it was a girl. Because
that's reserved for Lydia.” Derek was quiet for a little, Stiles taking the
opportunity to carry the basket down the stairs and into the laundry room
portion of the Loft.
No one was home, Isaac having taken to sleeping over at Erica and Boyd's
apartment and Peter not coming over as often to annoy Stiles. He had began
throwing the clothing into the washer when Derek spoke up.
“So. You like men?” it was like Derek was trying to hold his breath in, waiting
for the answer.
“I, er, Yeah. Guess I do. I mean, I was researching it and it actually was,
er... stimulating if you know what I mean. Like, it's not that I'm strictly
into girls or strictly into men... I guess... I just put my hand down and don't
care what I find.”
Silence again, Stiles wondering if he confessed too much about his newly
discovered Bi-sexuality, but then there was a grunt.
“So... what about you? I mean, Danny said you made the first move so obviously
you--” he made a small 'heh' noise, wondering if he was getting too close to
personal land. Derek was quiet for a long time, the man finally taking a deep
breath.
“To be honest, I've only slept with Kate before this.” there was a dead-tone in
his voice, like he was talking through cellophane as he said it. “I just... let
your body take control of what it wanted.” Stiles nodded softly. So Derek
wasn't into men, whatever, no huge loss.
Its not like Derek and he would ever in the history of mankind have anything
other than platonic friendship.
“So, there goes the theory of sexuality being all in your head.” he chuckled,
though it seemed like the moment had been killed with the mention of the K
word. So, Stiles sucked it up and went for it.
“I'm sorry. About saying you were like Kate? Because you're not. You didn't
burn my house down for one, and well, for two you didn't use your 'older male'
charms to trick me into sex--”
“It's fine.” Derek was gruff now, the friendliness in his voice having been
hollowed out and replaced by the usual dead-pan tone.
Which sounded completely terrifying in Stiles' own voice.
“No, it's not fine. Look, I want to make it up and since you didn't get any of
my 'I'm sorry for touching your dick' bacon, let me make you dinner or
something. Like, the whole pack can come over and we can show them we're not
fighting. Just back to being... whatever it is we are. Acquaintances.”
“I've seen you naked and you've touched my cock, Stiles. I think we're more
than acquaintances.” Stiles felt his heartbeat race as he turned the washer on
and slammed it shut.
“So... so we're like... Friends?” he asked softly, biting his lip as he hopped
onto the washer. There was a pause.
“Yeah, Stiles. We're friends.”
The day mostly consisted of Stiles cleaning the loft and watching Anime on his
laptop. He had managed to finish cleaning up his mess from the 'cookie
apocalypse' and had just started to gather everything he needed for dinner,
when the group all walked in through the front door.
Isaac and Boyd were talking loudly about something while Erica and Allison
giggled their way into the living room. Scott smiled wide as he walked into the
kitchen and leaned over the counter to watch Stiles throw the meat and
seasonings into a pan to ground up and flavor.
“What's for dinner Stiles?” he asked, grabbing a can of tomato sauce and
grinning. Stiles grabbed the can from him and mocked slapping his wrist with a
wooden spoon.
“Stilinski lasagna. And yes. I'm making like four pans of it, so there should
be left overs for you to take to your mom. And my dad. Ok? Deal?” Scott rolled
his eyes and nodded.
“Yeah yeah, I know. I've been making sure he's eating healthy foods. Trust me,
I haven't seen him eat a doughnut in days.” Stiles smiled warmly at that.
“Thank you Scott, you can have a cookie.” he pointed to the rack of chocolate
chip cookies he made while he danced around in the kitchen that afternoon.
Scott grinned even wider and grabbed one of them before humming his thanks.
“Stiles, forget doing anything else. You should just be a kept man for the rest
of your life. Cook for me and Allison all the time.” Scott was on his third
cookie by now, licking his chocolate off his lips.
“Right. Because that would be the best job for me. Hey dad, sorry. I'm not
going to college, Scott and Allison need me as their Au Pair for their
multitude of children!” Scott punched him in the shoulder and blushed.
“Stiles.” the man huffed, crossing his arms and taking a last cookie before
Stiles shooed him out of the kitchen. He returned to the meat in the pot,
puling his laptop over and pressing play again on his show. He wasn't really
paying attention when a voice was right by his ear.
“What are you watching?” he jumped, slapping the spoon up onto Derek's head and
making the man stumble back. Stiles had to laugh a little as he watched his own
body flail in an attempt to keep himself righted.
“Sorry! Dude, you can't sneak up on me when I'm cooking. I get in the zone and
totally forget there is anything going on around me.” Stiles offered a hand to
the man and hoisted him up onto his feet. Derek brushed himself off, huffing
but nodding.
“Sorry.” it was so strange hearing that word come from Stiles' mouth as a deep
growl. Derek had managed to get the hang of Stiles' voice and had actually
managed to growl properly. Stiles still had to work out some of the kinks with
Derek's voice.
Like how everything he said sounded annoyed.
“What are you watching?” he asked again, turning his face to the laptop where
the anime was playing.
“Oh, uh, Puella Magi Madoka Magica. I've been meaning to watch it for a couple
seasons now since it was all over the internet but, it came out kinda around
the time that we all went Kanima hunting, so I never had the chance...” he
smiling a little, tilting the screen so Derek could see too.
Derek looked over it slowly with calculating eyes. He grabbed one of the
kitchen chairs, sliding onto it and watching the show as Stiles continued to
cook.
“What's it about?” he said slowly, bringing Stiles' legs up underneath him. His
eyes never left the screen as the sounds echoed through the large kitchen.
Stiles turned to look at Derek who was enraptured by the bright animation and
sounds.
“Uh, so there are these things called witches that cause accidents, disease,
and suicide when they interact with humans. So this familiar – that cat thing
right there? – his name's Kyubey. He finds girls that he can make contracts
with to turn them into magical girls. Like, he grants a wish for them and they
gain these powers.” he scratched the back of his head and chuckled. “Sounds
kinda cheesy and I don't know if you'll like--”
“Shut up, I'm watching.” Derek muttered, and Stiles just shrugged.
He continued to saute the meat and vegetables for the lasagna, pouring the
sauce in and stirring it until it was hot and ready. He layered the noodles and
the cheese, pouring half the sauce and meat mixture over, and then continuing
the process with all four pans. He then layered a final cheese and noodle
topping on all of them and shoved them into the oven.
Derek grunted when the second episode was over, making Stiles move to set up
the third one. He was about to leave the room to check on the others, when
Derek pulled up a chair for him so they could watch together. Stiles smiled a
little and settled in the chair.
“How do you like it?” he asked during a quieter scene, his eyes flicking over
to take in Derek's reaction. The other man was quiet, shrugging as he gazed
over the screen.
“I've never seen Manga before.” Stiles had to snort a little, turning back to
the laptop.
“It's Anime. You watch Anime and read Manga.” he corrected, but Derek was too
involved in the story to even notice.
The timer went off around halfway through the third episode, making Stiles get
up and check everything before setting it for another twenty-five minutes and
settling in the chair once more. He watched Derek this time, though, knowing
his face would give him all the commentary he needed about how the wolf liked
it.
Finally, as the third episode ended and the last timer went off, Derek turned
to Stiles and frowned.
“You have the whole show?” Stiles nodded smiling as he pulled the dishes out
and ripped the tinfoil off.
“Yeah, did you want to borrow it or something?” he pulled out the garlic loaf
and cut it before popping it into the oven for a few minutes. Derek was quiet
for a little, looking over the end credits as they rolled.
“Can I watch it here?” Stiles was about to protest when he realized something.
Derek might be homesick, might be craving his own clothing and his own bed.
“Sure, I'll just stay with Sc--”
“No. I mean, together.” Stiles frowned a little, looking over him slowly and
lifting a brow. “I... I have to do something to make up for--”
“Oh my god! We can drop it, because honestly the more you mention it, the more
not ok I am. Alright? So just... forget it. No more, stop talking.”
Derek looked over him, trying to say something but not sure exactly how he
wanted to go about it. The timer went off for the bread and Stiles quickly took
it out and began getting plates and silver out.
“Can we watch it together as friends?” Derek tried again, looking up as Stiles'
hand stilled grabbing the glasses. They looked at each other, Stiles gazing
into his own eyes and finding something inside him stir. He didn't know what it
was, but it wasn't a bad feeling.
“Sure. I'd like that.” and Derek smiled.
They all ate until they were full, Danny even swinging by to see Stiles (and
apologize once more). Stiles sent the half the leftovers home with Scott and
the other half with Erica, Boyd and Isaac, urging them that he didn't need it.
Reluctantly, they all left, leaving Derek and Stiles alone for the first time
in a while.
Stiles half expected it to be awkward, or at the very least uncomfortable
silence. But, shock beyond shock, Derek rolled onto the couch and looked down.
“I-- I don't smell right” he said softly. “I know that wouldn't make sense to
you but--” he closed his eyes and curled tighter on the couch. “I just need to
smell myself.”
Stiles was stumped.
“So... you want to watch Madoka and cuddle?” he asked, not sure he was really
understanding the wolf. Derek, however, nodded slowly. “Dude, that's not really
what friends do.”
“It's what wolves do” Derek shot back, his face in a hard line as he went to
stand up. “How could I expect you to under--”
“Whoa, hold on. I'm just trying to wrap my head around Derek Hale; Cuddle Man.
Ok? It's... different from what I'm used to.” he held his hands up to show he
wasn't kidding, trying to get Derek back on the couch. “I mean, I've cuddled
with Scott before. Like, he's a bed hog and we've had sleepovers. It only got
worse when he was a wolf because... yeah, he was a cuddle monster. So. Give me
some time. We've been friends like, twelve hours, and it took me years to be
comfortable with Scott.”
Derek nodded slowly, though he didn't look convinced and he didn't sit back
down. So, Stiles walked over and smiled.
“Uh. I can give you a hug? I heard I'm pretty good at those. But, I mean. Most
people I give them to it's with my own body, so I have no idea about Stiles
staring as Derek Hale hugs.... but I can try?”
Silence fell over the room once more and Stiles wasn't even sure he was doing
anything right. Then, quietly, Derek crept forward and latched himself to his
chest. His face buried in his own muscles as he inhaled deeply. Stiles didn't
know if he should hold him or just let him take in the scent.
So, he hugged him. Wrapping Derek's arms around his body and nuzzling into his
neck on instinct. Derek's breath hitched as Stiles continued to nuzzle into his
neck.
“Stiles. You're scent-marking me.” he said softly, body still tight in his
hands. Stiles paused, his face in his own neck. It smelled weird. He could
smell the old spice shower gel he uses and the faint hint of grass and dirt
from Lacrosse today, but there was something else. He didn't know how to place
it exactly, it wasn't something he had smelt before.
But he really didn't have a habit of smelling himself.
“Do you want me to stop? I mean, if you want to smell like yourself shouldn't
you let me--”
“It's... it'll mean you're pack.” he said slowly, pulling a little a ways from
the man. “It will mean your part of my pack.”
OH. Stiles should have seen this conversation coming up. About how Stiles was
just a human how Derek didn't want him in his pack because Stiles wasn't
trustworthy. He didn't really want to have that conversation tonight,
especially since he was already tender about... the thing-that-shall-not-be-
named.
“Oh, right, sorry. No scent-marking for Stiles. Understand.” Derek looked like
he wanted to say something, like he was going to start the conversation Stiles
didn't want, but he just fell silent and hugged Stiles.
It was a long moment before Derek broke off the hug and went to sit on the
couch. Stiles had loaded up the Anime and settled on the other side of the
couch, just their feet touching under one of the fuzzy blankets Erica had
insisted Derek get when he first moved in.
It wasn't really cuddling, per-say, but Derek seemed content with this amount
of touching so Stiles didn't argue. They finished the Anime late into the
night, Stiles so tired that he could hardly keep his eyes open.
“Ug, you know, you can take the bed and I'll just--” he was interupted by Derek
growling.
“Not in this body. I said no scent-marking and if I go up in my bed and roll
around in this body...” Stiles nodded, licking his lips and scratching the back
of his neck. He stood up, frowning.
“Right, wolf's den and everything. Don't want it smelling like a teenaged
boy...”
“Stiles, can we not talk about this? I'm tired and--”
“Yeah. Yeah I get. It's fine. I don't... I don't belong to this pack so. Yeah.
G'night Derek.” Stiles turned and walked up the stairs two at a time trying to
get away from the man.
Once he was in the room he stripped and flopped on the bed with a small 'thud'
of Derek's body meeting the mattress. He didn't want to think about why Derek
didn't want him in the pack. They had been working as a team since sophomore
year. Two years Stiles had been helping the pack in anyway possible, in anyway
he could.
And for what?
Derek hadn't even said thank you for the countless times Stiles saved his or
any of the pack members lives. It was always Go home, Stiles or We don't need
you, Stiles or his favorite You're just a teenaged Human, Stiles. Really drove
him nuts. This pack would have fallen apart from the beginning had Stiles not
stepped up to help Derek in his hours of need. Derek was right, he wasn't pack.
Because Stiles didn't want to be in his super secret boy band anyways.
And that was the biggest lie Stiles had told in his seventeen years of life.
Chapter End Notes
     Puella Magi Madoka Magica is an amazing, if not the most amazing,
     Anime you will ever watch.
     If you do, watch it in Japanese.
     Also, Sad Stiles is Sad.
***** Chapter 5 *****
Chapter Notes
     1. There be plot now
     2. There be feels now
     Also, if you haven't read any of my other stuff... be warned. I take
     'This is going to hurt' Very Seriously.
See the end of the chapter for more notes
 Stiles woke up to Derek's phone ringing loudly on the bedside table, the boy
groaning as he grabbed it and shoved it to his ear.
“What?” he growled, the sound of chatter in the background making him rub his
temple in frustration. It wasn't like he had a good night sleep last night.
Between him being angry at Derek for not wanting him in the pack and him being
angry at himself for even wanting to be in the pack, he spent most of his night
tossing and turning.
“Good Morning, Derek. Do you know where my son is?” he sat up, his dad's voice
on the other end with a little hint of humor. Stiles licked his lips and closed
his eyes softly.
“Morning Sher-- John. Uh, yeah. Stiles is asleep on my couch.” he slid out of
the bed, grabbing pants and sliding them on. He didn't really feel all too
chatty right at the moment, which probably suited Derek just fine. “Do you want
me to wak--”
“That's not necessary. I called, believe it or not, to talk to you.” Stiles
licked his lips, pausing in his dressing and sat back on the bed.
“What's on your mind?” he asked slowly, not sure exactly why his father would
want to talk to Derek about something without Stiles. He needed to know. There
was a small throat clear and then a shift as the door closed on John's end of
the line.
“Stiles cannot know about this. Understand?” Stiles nodded his head wildly,
then realized he was on the phone.
“Yes sir, understood.” the tension was building up, Stiles not sure if he
should urge him forward but then John cleared his throat and sighed.
“In my youth, I was a young cop in the LAPD. Fresh out of the academy, married
to the woman of my dreams, and working the biggest case in California. This
man, Marcurio Giamatti, had all of the city under his finger and no one could
pin it on him. So, they sent me undercover to try and weasel it out on a wire.”
Silence followed, Stiles wondering if he should fill it with something. But,
the ragged breath of John suddenly filled the line.
“They found out I was a cop. But... but instead of killing me or – they...”
“John, you don't have to--”
“They raped my wife.” the words came out quickly, like a band-aid being torn
off a child. Stiles felt his heart stop for a brief second, his body shaking as
he gripped the phone tighter. “The police force sent us to Beacon Hills so that
we'd be safe while they finished up the case.”
“Is...” Stiles felt Derek's voice crack, he cursed himself for getting
emotional when Derek would have just offered his condolences.
“Nine months after she – Stiles was born.” his heart sank completely, body
shaking and his voice low as he spoke the next words.
“Stiles isn't your son?” there was radio silence as the moments ticked by.
“Not biologically.” and there went Stiles' control. He was screaming inside as
the claws and fangs slid out and his body shook as he tried to fight off the
change.
“Why are you telling me this?” he finally managed to bark out, his face showing
Derek's beta form completely.
“Because Marcurio Giamatti's sentence ended today. And chances are, he's going
to be coming to Beacon Hills. I know that I can't protect him, but you? You and
your... condition? You can keep him safe far better than every cop in this
city. I need you to promise me... please. Keep my son safe. He's all I have.”
Stiles bit his lip, blood welling up in his mouth and his eyes flashed red.
“I promise.”
“Thank you. I... It means a lot to me. I need to get back to work, I'll keep
you posted on everything.” and with that the phone call ended.
Stiles sat, phone still clung in his hand as he swallowed hard. Then, something
that he never thought possible happened. A low, mournful howl escaping from his
throat as he let tears roll down his face.
Derek raced up the stairs, looking over Stiles with confusion and anger.
“What happened?” he asked, their eyes locking for a moment as Stiles sobbed
harder. Without another word, Derek was pulling him into a tight hug and
squeezing him tightly.
He held Stiles for hours.
“So...” there was silence as the rest of the group sat in the loft's living
room. Stiles had explained the bare minimums, not even going into details about
his mother or his birth. He had told Derek in the mists of sobs and anger, and
that was enough.
“So Marcurio is going to come back for your dad?” Scott asked, licking his lips
and pressing his hand to Derek's back, Stiles grateful his best friend could
look past the body-switching to offer him comfort.
“That's why I need the pack and Argents to be on high alert for him.” Derek
spoke up now, his eyes scanning over the pack, Chris, and Allison. They all
nodded in agreement, even Peter seemed determined to keep Derek and Stiles
safe.
Even if Derek didn't consider him pack, the others must have. Isaac was
offering a strong smile to him and Erica was flashing her claws in preparation.
Boyd just sat there, calm as always, but his eyes flashed wolf.
It made Stiles realize how important he was to everyone.
“So, I need full on the clock watch. Since I'm out of the running, Peter. You
need to be watching the Stilinski house at all times possible. Scott, if you
wouldn't mind assisting him...?”
“Anything for Stiles and the Sheriff” Scott agreed, his hand gripping Stiles'
shirt tighter in comfort.
“Isaac, Boyd, I'll need you to cover me when I go to lacrosse practice for
Stiles. I don't want to stop his routine in case they have men on him already.
I don't want them to be suspicious. I'll stay here from now on, we have to keep
Stiles' body safe until the Blue moon... shit.” he turned to look at Chris who
was nodding.
“Full moon is next week.” Stiles looked over the group, licking his lips and
sighing. It had really been almost a month since he and Derek switched bodies,
though it felt like only yesterday.
“I could tie him up in the basement of the Hale house?” Chris continued as
Derek hesitated. He looked over to Stiles who just nodded in agreement,
crossing his arms in thanks for the subject change.
“I don't want to hurt anyone. So whatever you have to do.” Chris nodded,
looking over the group.
“The rest of you have anchors correct?” Erica held up her hand, shaking her
head.
“I'll stay with Stiles that night, I don't want him to be alone. It doesn't
matter if he's in Derek's body, the first full moon fucks with you.” Stiles
smiled warmly at her, the blonde winking at him and crossing her arms.
“Thank you. It means a lot.” Stiles said, Erica grinned wide.
“Anything, Stiles. You're pack!” the room suddenly went still, Derek bristling
as the rest of the pack looked down. Except Erica.
“Oh come on Derek. Isaac and I have been telling you to make Stiles pack since
sophomore year. He's as much a part of the pack as Scott is. So just tuck your
man purse away and fucking scent-mark him. Because if you don't, I wi--”
“NO.” Derek snarled, looking up over the group and gripping his fists tightly.
“No.” he said calmer, shooting a look to Stiles as if asking for assistance.
Stiles just stood there, wanting to hear the reason behind Derek's obvious
disapproval of Stiles becoming pack.
“I think we should just leave.” Chris said, standing up and leading Allison to
the door. She smiled and waved at Stiles, making a texting motion to Scott.
They left the loft, Isaac and Boyd all but grabbing Erica and dragging her to
the door as well. Scott gave Stiles a quick hug, giving him a lopsided smile
and raced out after. Peter, however stayed right where he was and just watched
the two of them.
“Stiles--” he started, but then paused as the boy shook Derek's head.
“You know what? I don't want to know. Because, you know what? Nothing. I mean,
nothing could make this day any worse. In fact, you know what? Nothing will
make this day worse, because I'm going to go right back to bed and pretend this
is all a dream.”
He turned to walk to the stairs when Derek let out a cross between a whimper
and a growl. Stiles swallowed, gripping the banister and turning around.
“But thanks.” he said softly. “Thanks for earlier.” and he walked up.
Stiles spent all his Google-Fu experience on looking up Marcurio Giamatti and
anything about his trial. Giamatti or as his associates called him, Mr. M, was
one of the biggest supposed crime lords this side of the country. His records,
however, only showed a handful of misdemeanors and one glaring rape charge.
Stiles swallowed, pressing through the eye-witness account of his mother.
Though, to be fair, his mother's testamentary wasn't enough to have gotten
Giamatti arrested. There were too many holes in her statement, and any jury
could have picked through it and charged 'not guilty'.
Which lead Stiles to believe that Giamatti wanted to be in jail.
The thought wasn't comforting, something fishy was going on. Why it had taken
17 years to get out prison on a rape charge when the sentence was only for
seven years? How did he spend the other ten? It was highly possible he had
added jail time in the penitentiary, but why would he want to stay locked up
when he could be out on the streets? Of course, when Stiles scrolled further
down, more questions popped into his mind.
His right hand man Tommy Mercello, had been indited for three accounts of
murder prior to Giamatti's trial. All of the victims were the wives of cops who
were on Giamatti's cases, sending a shiver up Stiles' back. Was Mercello
covering up Giamatti's tracks?
When Stiles read through Mercello's reports, it turned out all his supposed
victims had been ruled as 'animal attacks'. Using his father's user name and
password, he was able to listen to the coroner’s report for Mercello's first
victim.
“The autopsy is begun at 8:30 A.M. on February 1st, 1993. The body is presented
in a black body bag. The victim is wearing a white sleeveless turtleneck shirt
and navy blu--”
Stiles fast forward through the description of the victim, wanting to get to
the important part of the description.
“-- On the right anterior shoulder, and right lateral arm are a pair of
puncture lacerations; one on the right anterior shoulder measuring 5/8 thinch
by ½ inch and one on the right lateral arm measuring 1/8 thinch by ½ inch
separated by 4 inches. On the right elbow is a laceration measuring 1 inch by ½
inch. On the right dorsal arm is a laceration measuring 1/8 thinch by 1/
8 thinch. Near the right elbow is a laceration measuring 3/8 thinch by 1/
8 thinch. A puncture laceration is on the right vo--”
Stiles shut the recording off and scrolled through the images of the report,
his mouth growing dry as he looked over the information. He minimized the
window and brought up the second victim's reports.
“The autopsy is begun at 9:00 A.M. on April 24th, 1993. The bo-- On the right
anterior shoulder, and right lateral arm are a pair of puncture lacerations;
one on the right anterior shoulder measuring 5/8thinch by ½ inch and one on the
right lateral arm measuring 1/8thinch by ½ inch separated by 4 inches”
He minimized that window, opening up the last case file and swallowing hard.
“The autopsy is begun at 9:45 A.M on June 17 th, 1993. The body is--On the
right anterior shoulder, and right lateral arm are a pair of puncture
lacerations; one on the right anterior--”
Stiles could feel his heartbeat in his ears. Each victim was killed in the same
exact way, blunt force trauma and lacerations from an animal. But, Mercello's
DNA was found on all of the victim's bodies. Stiles quickly thought this
through and it hit him.
Mercello was a werewolf.
“How the hell did...” he scrolled through the pictures of the 'accused' and
sure enough, the bright flares of his eyes at the camera made Stiles swallow
hard. Mercello was a werewolf working for a crime lord. Well, that was a twist.
Stiles soon found himself printing off the case files, strewing them over the
floor and examining everything. He could clearly see in some of Mercello's
photographs the bright red eyes of an Alpha wolf.
Nothing made sense. Why would Mercello be an attack dog for Giamatti? Did the
man have some sort of pact with him? Was this like a Kanima type of
relationship between them? Stiles wanted to know more about Mercello but after
Giamatti had been tried there really wasn't anything on him. He seemed to have
effectively taken himself off the map.
Stiles reached for Derek's phone, wanting to call his dad about everything he
had found, but stopped. This wouldn't help anything, in fact, it might make
thing worse. No, it was best that his dad didn't know everything. Derek,
however, should.
I was researching Giamatti and his partner Mercello when I found something
interesting. Mercello is an Alpha working for him, doing his killing! Is that
possible? Can humans and werewolves make pacts? I'm only curious as to why the
Alpha would be helping someone like this.-Stiles.
He wasn't sure if Derek would even respond, it was around Lacrosse practice and
it's not like Derek was punctual with his texting, usually going days without
responding. However, minutes later Derek's phone beeped with a new message and
Stiles quickly flicked it open.
I've never heard of anything like that. But if this Giamatti offered him and
his pack protection from hunters as well as a feeding ground, it's possible.
Alpha's will do anything to protect their pack, even make alliances they
otherwise would not. Or Mercello is just blood crazy and Giamatti is the only
way to feed his frenzy. Either way, he's dangerous and we'll have to keep an
eye out for him as well. Stay inside, don't do anything stupid -Derek
Stiles frowned, the look on Mercello's face was far too comfortable for him to
be forced into his situation with Giamatti. The only conclusion Stiles could
draw from what Derek said was the blood craze, and that didn't comfort him at
all.
Soon enough, the full moon was the only thing on Stiles' mind and he found
himself letting Chris Argent strap a collar around Derek's neck in preparation.
“Ok, question. Why do I get tied up like we're in a kinky love dungeon?” he
asked, rubbing the collar and growling softly. It wasn't entirely comfortable
and Chris looked like he enjoyed strapping Derek's neck in a leather collar
like a dog. He clipped chains around the four d rings on it and began locking
them to the four metal pipes in the basement.
“Because you're the Alpha. Alpha's have the ability to fully shift if they lose
too much control. This is the only part of your body that stays the same size
roughly.” Chris tapped Derek's neck, making Stiles wince a little from the
leather. It rubbed his neck raw, but the healing kicked in enough that it only
irritated him rather than hurt. If the moon didn't shift him, the annoyance of
the leather would.
“So, you're saying I'm going to run around like a dog all night?” Chris thought
for a minute, shrugging as a smiled crossed his face.
“More like a wolf.” Stiles sneered at him, the chain being tightened. Erica
looked over from her binds, arms and legs tied tightly to the metal grate of
the basement. She looked a little less comfortable than Stiles, but Chris
explained that if Stiles managed to gain control by some stroke of luck, he
would be able to control Erica.
Or something like that.
“Alright. You two are all set. Now, Boyd and Isaac will be around sometime in
the night with Derek to check up on you two. For the most part just, don't kill
each other.” he smiled, saluting and walking out as he slammed the heavy door
shut.
“Well, this sounds like a good time to start panicking.” Stiles offered,
smiling to Erica who was rolling her eyes.
“To be honest, these bonds are much more comfortable than the one's Derek gave
me on my first full moon. Those things hurt like a bitch.” she grumbled a
little, huffing as Stiles snorted slightly.
“So, what's it feel like?” he asked, the girl raising her brow slowly and she
sagged her shoulders.
“Honestly? Can't you wait like a half hour and find out for yourself?” she
paused, looking over Stiles with something and then sucking in air through her
teeth. “Oh, are you that scared?” Stiles shrugged, swallowing hard.
“You-- you can feel my emotions?” he asked as she nodded slightly.
“Well, the emotions you're putting through Derek. Like, when you were upset
last week about that Marcurio guy? I could feel your anger and your grief... it
kinda ate away at you for a while, didn't it? I mean, it's not like we're not
used to it. Derek was always pulling off grief vibes, though he's been better
this last year... Y'know, when everything was calm and we only had to deal with
the occasional hunter?”
Stiles nodded, their Junior year of school had been pretty supernatural free.
There was only a few issues with the Argents retiring and other hunters trying
to take over their territory, but it wasn't anything they couldn't handle.
And now witches. Kinda ruined their perfect year.
“Yeah, I mean... life was normal in Beacon Hills.” Stiles said softly, looking
over his hands and turning his head to watch the moonlight slowly stream
towards them. He could already feel Derek's body wanting to pull on the chains,
run towards the moon and let the shift happen. It was a little scary.
“Don't worry. I have full confidence in you.” Erica smiled, her own arms
shaking at the pull of the moon. Stiles shot her a grateful smile, his eyes
flicking back to the ground as he sat down and lay on his back. He felt like he
was on fire and he couldn't stop the aching in his limbs fast enough, though
cool cement felt good.
“Is it always this bad?” he asked, licking his lips and trying to stop the
growl rising in his throat. Erica whimpered in response, Stiles taking that as
a resounding yes as he tried to keep his mind calm.
“Rain drops on roses.... and whiskers on kittens...”
“Stiles, I swear to god if you sing the Sound of Music the entire night, I will
beat you over the head with your car parts again.” she tugged at the binds,
snapping her jaw at him.
“You don't mean that, Erica. You love me.” he teased, though he too was rolling
on the floor and snapping his jaws as the moonlight grew closer. Stiles could
hardly think about anything but the blood rushing through his own ears, urging
him to rip free and eat.
“Ha! You wish I loved you. Then... ah! You wouldn't be in this mess...” she
growled, pulling on the binds and letting out a whimper. “Because you'd be in
my body!” Stiles snorted, shaking his head and rolling on the floor in pain.
“Oh... fuck... I wouldn't be able to stop myself from playing with your boobs.
I'm sorry, but they look so soft! Like pillows!”
“Finally I would get you to look at them!” she let out a final snort as the
moon came over and she let out a feral howl. Stiles felt it too, the shifting
of bones and the urges to rip Erica's throat out in silence. But he flung his
clawed hand up into the concrete, dragging five thick mares into the floor as
he felt his body shake it's last restraint away.
“I FUCKING HATE YOU, DEREK!” he screamed, watching his hands sprout fur
and...paws. God he was turning into the full alpha. He let out a howl, thinking
about everything that was shit with his life.
He was a werewolf, stuck in the body of a grandiloquent 'you're not good enough
for the cool table' asshole, oh and he just found out Giamatti might have an
Alpha werewolf at his beck and call.
Yeah, Stiles Stilinski's life was shit.
The shift was quicker than he thought, soon he was in a pile of what used to be
Derek's clothing, shaking out his massive wolf body and... nothing. He felt no
urge to kill, no urge to maim. It surprised him, all he felt was concern for
Erica and her writhing in the chains.
Suddenly, something Derek said earlier and completely out of context, floated
to the surface of his thoughts.
Alpha's will do anything to protect their pack.
Did that mean forgoing their own desires to kill in order to protect their
family? Apparently, because suddenly Erica seemed much calmer, her yellow eyes
meeting his red. She nodded, closing her eyes and face shifting into calm. He
couldn't help but smile at that.
Only, now that Erica wasn't in any danger, the urge to kill and rip suddenly
flooded into him. He needed something to anchor himself, needed to think about
comfort, which for Stiles was people.
His dad... yeah, not at the moment, he was kinda pissed at him for never
mentioning that he was the product of a psycho rapist. Scott? No, Scott
wouldn't do. He wasn't number one in the best friend department, but he was
getting better.
Lydia.
He could think about Lydia. Her long strawberry-blonde hair, green eyes,
standing at five feet three inches, with pale skin and moles down her-- wait,
no. Lydia had flawless skin. There weren't any blemishes or freckles or even
moles. He swallowed, licking his lips and trying again.
Strawberry-blonde hair, big doe eyes that looked like warm amber in the
fluorescent-- Stiles sighed, shaking his head as he tried to think about Lydia
damn it! He growled low in his throat, the moon begging him to take over when--
The door opened, and suddenly Stiles felt his body calm and the wolf slowly
slink into the back of his mind. Derek, Isaac, and Boyd walked through the
large doors and looked over them. Stiles blinked.
His anchor was himself? Well if that wasn't narcissistic he didn't know what
was. But, to be honest it made sense. He missed being Stiles Stilinski, missed
being the teenager who still couldn't get drunk legally and had little to no
social skills. Maybe that's what an anchor was, just something you were
familiar with.
Something you could hold onto.
“Check on Erica” Derek said, Isaac and Boyd walking over to her as she lolled
in her binds. Derek sat down on the floor, looking over Stiles with a soft
expression. “Are you alright?” he asked softly, Stiles wagging his tail.
I have a tail! He thought, wagging it a little more before turning his head to
see it. He was currently chained too tightly for him to chase it, so Stiles
whined slightly and turned back to Derek. The man didn't look amused.
“You're father's safe. Peter's watching him with Scott.”
That really doesn't comfort me, you know. Stiles let out a huff, laying down on
the ground and licking his jowl. Derek rose a brow and scooted a little closer.
Stiles knew he was a little afraid of being bitten, but Stiles really didn't
want to make the moon shifting a permanent fixture in his life.
“It was pretty quiet.” Derek said finally, looking down. “I don't think
Giamatti is in town, or if he is, he's not looking for you two yet.” there was
tension between them, Boyd and Isaac looking over each other before walking out
of the room and closing the door behind them. Derek didn't move to get up, his
eyes meeting Stiles'
“I don't want to make you pack.” he said, when the silence was getting to him.
Stiles whined, did they really have to have this conversation right now when
there was no way Stiles could retaliate?
“Because if I make you pack, you won't leave.” Stiles huffed, putting his paws
over his ears, though it wasn't a very effective noise blocker. Derek let out a
sigh, running his hands through his hair. “I didn't mean-- I don't-- I saw the
acceptance letters.” there was a break, making Stiles look up with shock.
“As a pack, back in February, we decided to make you officially a pack member.
I went over to your house looking for you and... they were all on your desk.
Berkeley, Yale, Harvard, Oxford... all said yes. Full rides, everything. You
have a future, Stiles. And it isn't here. And if I make you pack, you'll stay.
You'll throw any chance of a normal life you might have.... for this... for
us... For m--” he stopped, looking away and letting a low growl escape Stiles'
throat.
“I can't do that. I can't watch you throw your life away for this. Because
this--” he made a motion around the room, locking eyes once more with Stiles.
“This took my life. Took my future. And damn it, Stiles. I won't let it happen
to you. Because you're better than me. Always have been, always will be.”
They were quiet for a moment, Stiles swallowing hard as he realized something.
Derek wasn't a dick because he didn't care. Derek cared about Stiles. And, as
he sat there, the two of them in comfortable silence, Stiles realized he cared
about Derek too.
Oh fuck.
Chapter End Notes
     Sorry for the shitty autopsy stuff, I'm not really good at
     technical.. :/
***** Chapter 6 *****
Chapter Notes
     Here, have a chapter! I'm going to try and pump them out since I'm
     going to Alaska next week and won't have internet. Humph.
     So, hopefully this will be over then. Otherwise you'll have to
     wait...
 Stiles was confused.
Well, more-so than usual, which was saying something. The night of the full
moon, Derek had been nice and understanding. He had even brought Stiles burgers
and curly fries when he managed to shift out of the alpha form. They talked
about Anime and how Derek wanted to try watching another one with Stiles and
effectively avoided the conversation about Pack.
But the next morning, he was broody. The man wouldn't even lookat Stiles, let
alone talk to him. Stiles had to make sure last night really had happened, that
he wasn't just romanticizing Derek like he did with Lydia. Because having
feelings for Lydia Martin and having feelings for Derek Hale were two totally
different things.
Stiles needed to talk to someone about this. He couldn't go to Scott, the boy
would just give him those dopey eyes and shift uncomfortably as Stiles talked
about his feelings. And it wouldn't help if Stiles brought up the two years of
Alison pain he had to listen to, because that would just start Scott on the
Allison train of thought.
He could talk to Allison, but in all truth she would probably just smile and
nod. She would then pat him on the shoulder and tell him everything was alright
and then say he should talk to Scott. Which would make her flash those dimples
and Stiles would probably let her paint his nails then.
It's happened before.
And, he couldn't talk to Danny. Or Isaac or Boyd. Because all of them were
treading carefully on the 'Derek' subject with Stiles, for different reasons.
And he couldn’t talk to Erica. Because if Stiles told her he might have a
teeny, tiny, itty-bitty, little crush on Derek, she would go full fangirl on
him and he would never hear the end of it.
No, what he needed was someone who would listen to him and then judge him
harshly. Someone who wouldn't care about his personal feelings and look at the
subject objectively. He needed an outsider, someone who wasn't going to go
blabbing to the world about this.
Jackson.
No, wait. Jackson is a dick.
Lydia.
Surprisingly, Derek had Lydia's number in his phone. Unsurprisingly it was
listed as Red-Head Bitch. Stiles quickly changed the name to Strawberry-blonde
Bitch and then pressed 'talk', listening to the ringing as he tried to calm
down.
He still had a thing for Lydia, probably always would, but their Junior year
they had become somewhat friends in the occult. She was the sassy, smart Scully
to his Mulder without all the sexual tension. Well, some of the sexual pining.
He heard a click, breath escaping from him as he tried to think of something to
say. But, of course, Lydia was quick to the draw.
“Derek Hale would not be calling me at two in the fucking morning.” she
growled, though the tone seemed more of intrigue than anger. Stiles cursed
himself, while it was six pm over here in sunny California, it was an eight
hour difference in time Zones. This was why he wasn't the brains of team human.
“So, either this is a prank call, or Allison was telling the truth about
everything. What is it, Stiles?” he blushed slightly, licking his lips and
clearing his throat.
“H-hey Lydia!” she groaned, shifting on her bed. The sound of her sliding on
slippers and padding across the floor echoed, a chair scraping across the
floor.
“Skype me.” Stiles blinked.
“W-wait wha--”
“Skype. Me. Is that really so hard of a thing? I could say it in french? Latin?
Or maybe send youa--”
“Ok ok! I'll get on Skype...” she hung up, Stiles fumbling to the desk and
logging into Skype on his laptop. He frowned as Lydia started a video chat, the
annoying sound of the IM's ringing grading on his ears. He answered it quickly
and was about to apologize when Lydia held her hand up.
“No. Stop. If you want something from me, you have to give me something too.
Shirt off.” Stiles blinked again, licking his lips and furrowing his brows.
“Lydia I--”
“Shirt. Off. Now, Stiles.” her face was calm, eyes calculating in the dim light
of her London loft. Jackson seemed to be out, which was kinda a relief, but
still. He didn't feel all the up to stripping on camera for Lydia. Especially
in Derek's body.
“But, it's not my--”
“I won't tell him, I'm guessing you won't tell him, so. Shirt off. And pants
too while you're at it.” she crossed her arms, and at that moment Stiles knew
there was no way he was getting out of this. He rolled his eyes, taking off the
black henley and opening his arms wide. She made a continue motion and Stiles
begrudgingly stood up. He slid out of the jeans and stepped back so Lydia could
see the full form of Derek Hale.
“Turn.” she informed him, Stiles rolling his eyes and turning so she could see
the back. “Bend over.” he heard her say, shooting a look over his shoulder. She
rose a brow and he let out a whine. Slowly he bent over, hands pressed on his
calves and legs spread slightly. It was pretty unnerving and slightly arousing,
but he wouldn't tell Lydia this.
“Stand up, turn around.” Stiles obeyed like a puppet on a string, turning
around and crossing his arms over his chest. She smiled, coaxing a finger.
“Good enough.” he walked back to the chair and settled down, somehow doubting
Lydia would let him put his clothing back on.
“Thanks Lydia.” he said, grumbling low as he ran a hand through Derek's hair
and huffing.
“You're the one who woke me up from my nap. Obviously it was something
important. So, Carpe Diem.” Stiles shot her a look and the girl leaned back
with a smug smile. “Talk, I know you want to.”
And Stiles did. He told Lydia about everything he could think of, how he was
feeling how Derek had been nice to him for a while, even told her about his
fears for Giamatti and Mercello coming into town and wrecking havoc. She
listened, patiently waiting for Stiles to finish when he was blue in the face.
She was quiet for a little, looking off to the side of desk and not making
contact with Stiles' eyes. He knew she was thinking hard, her eyes flicking
from side to side as she finally opened her mouth.
“You're an idiot.” Stiles groaned, slamming his head on the desk and letting
out a huff.
“Really? That's all you have to say about this?”
“You're not telling me everything, so I'm sticking with the idiot assumption.”
Stiles looked up, mouth open in shock as he waved his arms.
“I told you everything Lydia! There really isn't anything else to say! Oh my
god, I even told you that I have a crush on Derek.”
She rose a brow, crossing her arms and rolling her eyes. “Please, you've been
pining for that dick since forever. Why else would you have helped him these
past years? All he does is cause you physical pain and call you names.” she
kinda had a point, but the again she was Lydia Martin.
“Well... I don't know what else to tell you.” he huffed, looking over her as
she pulled her hair back and braided it quickly to keep it out of her face.
“Tell me why you like him.” she said softly, “Because you used to have flawless
taste in crushes.” she flicked a smile at him that nearly made him blush.
Nearly.
“Uh, see that's a little difficult. It's not that I like him... I just.. I want
to make sure he's ok, I want to be able to call him in the middle of the night
and ask if he's thinking about something or... I want to see him play the
piano. I really, really want to see him do that. Just... I want to make him
smile and forget the past. Because, even though he's all 'moved on' he really
hasn't. He's--”
“So you want to fix him?” Lydia threw in, curling up in her chair as she
watched Stiles with careful eyes. Stiles shook Derek's head, licking his lips
and looking down.
“You can't fix what isn't broken, Lydia. He's not broken. All the pieces are
still there, he just... won't let them come together. He needs someone to push
at him, to... to remind him that...” he sighed, running a hand through his hair
again.
“There is a thin line between living... and being alive.” Lydia looked up at
that, smiling fondly and sighing.
“Dear god, you've got it bad.” Stiles sighed, looking up at her and nodding.
“Yeah, I kinda do. It doesn't help that I'm kinda looking at his body twenty-
four/seven.” she snorted and rolled her eyes.
“Use that to your advantage. You are in Derek Hale's body. He's in yours. Why
not do something you know will work on you. You know what you like, Derek knows
what helikes.” Lydia shot him a sly grin.
“What are you telling me, Lydia?” he asked dryly, giving her a look as she
shrugged coyly.
"I'm telling you, I'm done with this conversation. You know what you can do.
Youknow what you're going to do. You just wanted someone to tell you.” she
said, smiling soft as she yawned. “Now, you need to let me sleep, we've been
talking for three hours.”
He glanced at the clock and sure enough, three hours passed. He smiled to
himself, turning back to her. She flicked her finger, motioning for Stiles to
stand up again. He rolled his eyes and stood up, opening his arms and showing
off Derek's body once more.
“Turn around, to the side.” he showed the profile, feeling awkward as she gazed
over his body. “Mh. We're good. Good night, Stiles.”
“Night Lydia.”
It was Friday night when Derek and Stiles were alone once more, Stiles
finishing up the dishes as Derek read through something on the computer.
“What is Tengen Toppa Gurren Lagann?” he asked finally, looking up to Stiles
who's mouth was open with shock.
“Uh, dude. One of the most amazing Anime of all time. Like, seriously. Did you
live under a rock?” he asked, turning back to the dishes.
“No, but I was raised by wolves.” and Stiles dropped the dish he was washing to
turn around.
“Derek. Did you just... just make a joke?” Derek looked up, his mouth just as
slack as Stiles'. They looked at each other for a moment, Derek sweeping a
tongue over his bottom lip and nodding.
“I think I did.” Stiles broke out in a fit of laughter, which sounded
completely strange in Derek's voice, but still.
“Oh my god. I'm going to have to remember this moment for the rest of my life.
It will be all over the paper tomorrow. Derek Hale, Beacon Hills own Brooding
Pants, Cracks Joke. Everyone will eat this up. It'll be like Christmas came
early.” he turned back to the sink, finishing and placing it in the drying
rack. He drained the water, rinsing down the soap suds and hopped up on the
counter.
“We could watch that, if you wanted. I wouldn't mind watching the great Kamina
again.” Derek looked up, raising a brow and tilting his head.
“Who?” Stiles let his mouth drop as he slid off the counter and struck a pose.
“Who the hell do you think I am?!When you hear of the great Kamina they're
talking about me! You'd best remember that. GURREN LAGANN!” he shouted,
pointing down to Derek and letting out a grin. “Don't believe in yourself.
Believe in me! Believe in the Kamina who believes in you!”
“Don't do that. Ever again.” Derek grumbled, though there was hints of a smile
on his face as Stiles winked.
“But it's fun! Here. Let's watch it and you'll see what I'm talking about, ok?”
Derek, though looking a little reluctant, nodded his head slowly and they
wandered into the living room for Stiles to hook his laptop up to the tv.
They settled into the usual, feet barely touching under the cheep blanket and
eyes glued to the screen, but Stiles couldn't help but look over to see if
Derek was enjoying it. He seemed to be entranced by it, much the same way he
was while watching Madoka. It was something Stiles thought he would never see
from the wolf.
And something he didn't want to stop.
They managed to squeeze out about half of the show before Stiles was yawning
and ready to call it a night. He stood up, stretching himself out and rolling
his shoulders back before turning to the stairs.
“Night Derek.” he began to walk up the stairs when Derek's voice was quiet.
“Can you jerk me off?” Stiles paused, swallowing hard and thanking god that
Derek had normal human hearing right now. He turned around and tried to look
completely nonchalant.
“What?” he asked, though Derek looked like he was about to burst a vein with
how red his face was.It was actually pretty weird, watching yourself get
flustered.
“Your body... it's... so... needy. And I-- I don't want to touch it after--”
Stiles closed his eyes, Derek was still looking down in his lap as he said the
last bit. Stiles could almost smell the shame creeping over the man. It was
sickening actually, to smell something that potent off Stiles' own skin.
“I'm totally cool with you jerking me off, like... seriously. Like you said,
Sex and Masturbation, not the same thing.” Derek looked up, biting his lip and
growling softly.
“Stiles...”
“No, seriously. Just. Go to town. Give my... needy body what it wants.” Stiles'
mouth was dry, Derek's body feeling the pangs of want, but that was probably
due to Stiles. He really liked Derek, it was bad.
“That's.... it's...” he closed his eyes. “It feels weird. It's not...” Derek
was having a hard time with his big boy words, Stiles found, standing up and
walking towards Stiles. Stiles took a step back, nearly tripping on the stairs.
“Uh, hey. I get it. It's weird. Trust me, I've been feeling the same way.” he
tried to crawl away, because really? Being stalked by your own body is a little
weird.
“Have you touched it?” Derek asked softly, finally making his way between the
man's legs and putting a hand on his thigh. And woah is that what Stiles'
fingers feel like? Because he was seriously considering going into hand porn
then. His body seemed electro-charged and gagging for those fingers to roll
over his bare skin and--
NO! Stiles is NOT having a fantasy about his own body! That's weird and a
little bit too much like Jackson for his taste. He tried to squirm out from
under Derek's hands before nodding.
“Your cock? Uh yeah, kinda have to in order to mas--”
“My knot: Did you touch my knot?” Derek asked softly, sliding his hands up
Stiles' borrowed thighs, and ohgod. Yes. Stiles was having a fantasy about his
own fingers digging into flesh and pulling him close as he--
“Yes.” he squeaked out, Derek's smile turning predatory as he slid Stiles'
hands higher still. Stiles was breathing hard now, the wolf in the back of his
mind screaming at him to just take. He tried to shake it off, looking up.
“Derek this isn't fair. I can't control the wolf.”
“What if I don't want you to?” Derek growled, looking up with blown pupils and
a glint behind Stiles' eyes. “What if I want you to take, to hurt me, to use
me, like--”
“Like you did to me.” Stiles finished, seeing what this was all about now.
“Derek. I told you I was fine. I--”
“But what if I'm not?” he stood up, fists clenched until the knuckles were
white. “I hurt you. So badly. I was a terrible friend, a horrible Alpha--”
“But you're not my Alpha.” Stiles corrected, the man turning his eyes to look
at Stiles. “Not technically. I mean, you've kinda made it obvious you don't
wantto be--”
“How can you say that?” Derek was on him again, this time so close Stiles could
smell the pizza sauce from dinner. He swallowed hard. “How can you be in my
body... and not...” he growled, getting up and shaking his head. “Never mind.”
Something in Stiles snapped, forcing him to stand up and grabbing his body by
his shoulders. He slammed him into the wall, snarling at his face and gripping
his shirt in his fist.
“Don't do that! You can't just DO that! Stop in the middle of your sentences
and just expect me to know what you're thinking. I don't ok? I'm not a mind
reader, I'm a human fucking being, so if you would please grow a pair and talk
to me like a normal person--” he was cut off as Derek let out a broken moan,
making Stiles look down. Their hips were pressed close, Stiles' body grinding
against Derek's.
Oh god.
“De—Derek... Wha--”
“Shut up” he growled, closing his eyes and moving his hands to wrap around
Stiles' neck. “Just... please. Shut up and let me do this.” his voice was
shaky, fingers digging into the shirt as he continued to rock. Stiles was
speechless, the words hitting his cock like a thousand ounces of pressure. Was
Stiles really going to let Derek do this to him? It was obvious that Derek
didn't feel any sort of attraction to Stiles, didn't even like men. So this
would only hurt Stiles in the long run. Was Stiles really going to let Derek
use him again?
Yes. Yes, a thousand times yes.
They were both panting hard, rocking in a spastic rhythm that was more need
than technique. Stiles didn't really care, he was frotting with Derek. And
while he would more than likely hate himself for doing this in the morning,
right now he felt so fucking good.
“Derek!” he groaned, though it sounded foreign in Derek's voice, calling out
his own name. He wanted Derek to call out his name. A thought suddenly struck
him, his body quivering at the thought as he continued to rock against Derek.
He closed his eyes – knowing this was probably the weirdest thing he could
possibly do – and leaned in close to his own ear.
“Stiles.” Derek let out a broken whimper as he came, Stiles growling as he too
came. The two panted, coming down from their high as they both realized what
had happened. Stiles dropped Derek, taking a step back as he looked over the
man. They were quiet, Derek finally breaking the silence.
“Thank you.” and he turned to walk down the hall to the bathroom to wash up.
Stiles quickly ran upstairs, shame and mortification covering his face. He had
gotten off on Derek's voice saying his name. Derek would know, he had to know.
He rushed into the shower, turning the hot water on completely and jumping in.
He hissed at the hot water, closing his eyes and stroking himself ruthlessly.
He hated himself, hated what he was doing, but as he stroked, only one word was
present on his tongue.
“Stiles.”
***** Chapter 7 *****
Chapter Notes
     This contains graphic violence. Sorry.
See the end of the chapter for more notes
They didn't talk about that night, the next morning Derek asked if they could
finished Tengen Toppa Gurren Lagann and they sat on the couch watching until
they finished all twenty seven episode. Stiles didn't even ask what they should
watch next, he simply started Steins;Gate, settling back into the couch and
daring Derek to argue.
Derek didn't complain.
When they finished half the season, the Sheriff called Stiles' phone, asking to
have a family dinner. Derek stood up silently, gathering the things he needed
and went to walk out the door when Stiles couldn't take it.
“Are we--” he paused, looking over him. “Are we going to talk about it?” Derek
paused, opening the door.
“No.” and he walked out. Stiles waited until he heard the jeep engine roar away
before letting out a yell of frustration. He wanted to hit something, wanted to
destroy something. Derek was a dick. A stupid, stupid, fucking dick.
Whom Stiles was in love with. Yes yes, he knew he was falling fast, but to be
honest, there was no in between. Stiles was either going to fight to the death
for someone or he was going to leave them to die.
Derek was worth saving.
He was about to start in on just binge eating everything in sight, when Derek's
phone rang. Stiles grumbled, picking it up and flicking it open. To his
surprise it was Peter.
“Where's Derek?” he asked, not even saying a greeting to Stiles. The boy
snorted, running a hand through his hair.
“I'm not his keeper.” there was silence for a moment, Peter letting out a slow
breath, probably counting to ten before trying to talk again. “He's at my house
with my dad. Why?”
Peter was shuffling through something, the sound of heavy paper and rustling
made Stiles pause. That was a case file. Peter was looking through a case file.
“What is it?” Stiles asked, shifting a little. If this was a distraction from
the asshole named Derek, he'd be willing to do anything. “What did you find?”
“Alphonse Wiseau, the cell mate of Marcurio Giamatti, is still in San Quentin.”
Peter said slowly, Stiles felt his heart rate rise. San Quentin prison was only
a half hour drive away, he could go there, ask questions and be back before
anyone knew he was gone. It was nearly a perfect plan.
“Why are you telling me this?” he asked suspiciously, nothing ever came free
with Peter. The wolf sighed deeply over the phone, the sound of the file being
gripped tighter echoed over the phone.
“Honestly. Team Human is a disappointment. Wiseau. Really? You don't see how
that is a huge deal?” when Stiles was silent, Peter let out a gruff and
continued. “Argents, Wiseaus, and Faulkners. All have what in common, Stiles.”
the boy blinked, licking his lips and then widening his eyes.
“Alphonse Wiseau is a hunter.”
“Bingo. So, I don't know what he is doing in jail or why he was with Giamatti.
But the reports I managed to scrounge up all say the same thing. The two of
them were always together.” Stiles licked his lips, looking over towards the
door where Derek had just walked out.
“I need to talk to him” he finally said, Peter making a hum of agreement. “When
can I visit San Quentin?” Peter let out a small chuckle, Stiles wondering if
the man only told him this information to taunt him. But Peter must be just as
curious.
“July 31stin two weeks.”
Stiles needed to plan.
Stiles and Derek had been avoiding each other as much as possible. They had
taken to silently passing each other and never being alone in a room together.
Sure, this left a bitter taste in Stiles' mouth and many nights of
masturbation, but it was better than facing their feelings, right? They had
been in each others bodies for two months now and the blue moon was soon
approaching. They had to get it right or else they would be stuck like this
until the next blue moon.
When the thirty-first rolled around, he had grabbed Derek's ID and keys before
hopping in the Camaro. Out of all of Stiles' brilliant-but-not-so-brilliant
plans, this one probably took the cake. When he had driven halfway to San
Quentin he started thinking this might not be the best plan. When he was
actually at the prison, filling out the visitor forms and getting an ID badge,
he guessed it was a terrible idea. But when he was being led into the nearly
empty room to sit in an uncomfortable stool connected to a metal table, he was
positive this was the worst idea in the history of all time.
Alphonse Wiseau was a tall man. Deep set blue eyes and a crooked nose that
looked like it had been broken a few times. There were thick scratches down his
neck and face, his black shaggy hair covering most of his face as he was set
down and strapped to the table. His hands were hardly able to reach across the
table, the chain preventing him from standing at all either.
“So, the wolf comes in forms of many. Seeking knowledge that is not his to
know. Tell me, Derek Hale of Beacon Hills, why do you need to know about
Marcurio Giamatti?” Stiles didn't want to know how the man knew him, didn't
want to know anything about him, and yet--
“How do you know who I am?” he asked, licking his lip and nearly forgetting
everything he was supposed to be asking. The hunter smiled briefly, looking
over him.
“I have eyes. I can read the paper. Animal attacks similar to that of the ones
in LA back in 1993? Mercello couldn't have been the only one. And the Argents?
Aren't exactly the most low profile of hunters.” Wiseau smiled, leaning back in
the chair. “My question remains, why Marcurio Giamatti?”
Stiles didn't think this could happen. He couldn't gain control of the
situation if he played into the man's hand, so he followed up with one of his
own.
“Why is a hunter in jail?” there was a pause when Stiles was sure Wiseau was
thinking about lying, but then his body relaxed and he looked him over.
“I had bad business in the nineties. Nearly got killed by the wolves I was
hunting in San Diego. Managed to kill their Alpha, but he was high up in
politics and there was no way for me to get off. So, here for life, protecting
the city that condemned me. How's that for thanks?” he shrugged, making the
chains clink against the table legs. Stiles looked him over, biting his lip and
trying to think of what he could say.
“Is that why you kept close tabs on Giamatti?” Wiseau looked board with the
prospect, almost yawning slightly.
“No, Giamatti was just my cell mate. It was completely luck of the draw that I
got the rapist in my cell. In fact, it was with my help he got to stay in jail
as long as he did. Who do you think told the guards about all the shady
business going down? You're welcome by the way.” Stiles paused slightly,
looking over him and frowning deeply.
“Then why were you always overheard talking to Giamatti? Wasn't he a wolf
supporter?” he tried to keep his voice calm, though Wiseau looked over him with
confusion.
“You mean Mercello? Come on, Giamatti was too smart to have a beast like that
untamed. He used the wolf, didn't actually care about the race of the mongrels.
No offense. I'm sure you're a very decent member of... whatever. But, no. I
talked with him for a different reason. We both had... similar activities
outside the doors. Giamatti was a hunter too. Though a different type of
hunter.”
“I thought--”
“Forget what you thought, Derek m'boy. We are all just puppets in the show of
Giamatti. Why do you think he was arrested so easily? He wanted to be in the
prison. He wantedto be in this specific cell-block, for that specific crime.
Why else would he have left that Stilinski woman live? He's been planning this
for seventeen years and all of us are just--” Stiles had bristled at the
mention of his mother,causing Wiseau to pause and then let out a choked gasp.
“You aren't a wolf.” Stiles frowned, nodding his head.
“Yes, I am. I am an al--”
“You aren't Derek Hale.” there was a moment of silence before the pieces
clicked. “Stilinski.” Wiseau looked scared, his eyes flicking side to side.
“Get out. GET OUT! GET OUT YOU STUPID BOY!” He tried to stand, the chains
preventing him from getting far. “YOU! IT'S YOU! HE WANTS YOU!” the guards
grabbed him, trying to contain him as he flung wildly for Stiles.
“Alli permutat anima kimota. Alli perm--” Stiles fell back as the guards
knocked Wiseau over the head, cutting off the spell before it could be
completed. He took shallow breaths, looking over as one of the guards offered
their hand. He took it, swallowing as he looked over the crumpled form of
Wiseau.
“Sorry about that, Mr. Hale. Visiting hours are now over.” Stiles nodded,
turning to walk out the room with shaky feet. He signed out, licking his lips
and climbing into the Camaro. But he didn't start the car. He didn't turn the
key his hand had shakily put in the ignition, didn't even shut the door. He
just let out a broken sob.
It started in his neck, like always. The feeling of tension in his shoulders
tying knots in his muscles like someone has a hold on his body and was slowly
squeezing the life from him. He felt like his insides were going to come out,
that he was going to turn inside out. His brain felt like it wanted to pop out
of his skull as tremors shot up his arms and his legs lost their functions. He
started to hyperventilate, his body shaking as he clutched at himself.
“No no no no no!” he whimpered, closing his eyes and gripping himself so hard
he swore he broke skin. Claws were out, scratching at his bare arms and the
smell of blood filled the air as he rocked in the seat. This wasn't happening.
He was not having a panic attack in the parking lot of San Quentin. He was not
having a panic attack in Derek Hale's body. He swallowed, trying to gather
himself.
He couldn't breathe, couldn't feel the small connection in the back of his
brain telling him it would be alright. Because it wouldn't be alright. Stiles
was in deep. Deeper than he had ever been, and he was alone.
Then he felt it.
Human contact as his hands were pulled away from his arms, the warm sensation
of a body crawling on top and pulling his head to the beating heart. Fingers
curled through his hair and massaged the nape of his neck. Stiles wrapped his
arms around the figure, not caring who it was at the moment and sobbed. He
gripped the body tightly as he tried to take deep breaths.
“I told you not to do anything stupid.” Derek said softly, their bodies pressed
close together as Stiles continued to shake and sob. “Why are you having an
attack?” he asked. Talking. He was trying to get Stiles talking. He was
grateful the wolf was here, the tight embrace comforting him more.
“Can't-- can't do it. Not strong enough. I-- don't-- I'm not--” Derek hushed
him, pulling his head up so their eyes could meet.
“Believe in yourself. Not in the you who believes in me. Not the me who
believes in you. Believe in the you who believes in yourself. Don't be held
back by someone else's bullshit.” Stiles looked over him, his eyes widening as
he looked over Derek.
“You just quoted Tengen Toppa Gurren Lagann.” he said with a cracking voice,
Derek smiling as he nodded.
“Seemed appropriate in this situation.” Stiles swallowed, realizing now that
Derek had straddled him to fit into the seat of the Camaro with him. He felt
the slow creep of a blush form on his face as the tips of his ears grew hot.
“I--” this was the most they had talked in a month, Stiles not wanting to ruin
it, so he nuzzled his head back into the chest and let Derek run his own
fingers through his hair. This was enough, he didn't need to be loved back by
Derek, he just needed them to be friends, needed them to talk. He just needed
Derek in anyway he could.
He hated himself.
Derek and Stiles sat in the Camaro for a while as the sun dipped into the bay
over the waterfront, not moving from the spot until Derek was sure Stiles'
panic attack had subsided.
“How... how did you know--” Stiles asked, though the voice was dry and broke
several times as he tried to ask.
“Peter.” he said, sliding off his lap and into the passenger side seat. “He
told me about the theory and that you were going to see Wiseau.” he looked
down. “I would have been here sooner, but Scott wouldn't let me ditch practice
and I had to catch a bus.” Derek growled now, looking over Stiles with
condescending eyes.
They drove for a little, the silence grating as they turned down a street
towards the highway. Finally, Derek spoke.
“Why would you do something so stupid? Why couldn't you have just staid put
like I told you.” Stiles was quiet, still not sure of his voice as the lights
of the street stretched over the black car. “He could have killed you. Giamatti
could have been waiting for you.”
“Good thing I don't look like me then.” Stiles responded, turning to Derek and
growling. “I can protect myself, Derek. I don't need you always looking over my
shoulder. You don't really care about me, you've pretty much proven it. So why
don't you just let me fucking make my own choices.”
There was a brief flicker of something, Derek's jaw going tight.
“Pull over.” he growled, Stiles flicking the car into the parking lot of a
motel. Derek snatched his wallet from the dash, walking into the office. Stiles
didn't know what to do, so he waited. Derek walked back out, tugging the door
open and then tugging Stiles out towards a door. He unlocked it and shoved the
boy through.
“What the fuck Derek. What the actual living Fuck! You can't just go around and
treat people like--” he was cut off when the man grabbed him by the throat and
slammed him into the wall, kicking the door shut.
“Every breath I take is smoke pouring from my throat. The air around me is
filled with ash and I can barely keep myself alive each day. Every step feels
like my soul is being ripped from my body, it takes all my will power to not
scream in agony. When I sleep, I dream of fire. Burning me to my very core,
causing me so much pain I can barely stand it. I weep, every night I cry out
for the nightmares to end, for my suffering to be complete. But it won't ever
be. Because of YOU.”
Stiles swallowed, looking over the wolf as he snarled these words. Stiles was
thrown onto the bed, Derek pouncing on him and grabbing his throat.
“My heart clenches every time I see you, hear you, feel your presence in the
same room. I can feel my heart fall, feel it in my stomach, feel it being
burned by your glance. You can just look at me and I feel like I'm dying, like
I'm on fire. I HATE you so much! Why do you make me feel the way I do about
myself? I HATE myself around you, I HATE the way you make meforget.Make me
laugh. I DON'T FUCKING DESERVE IT!”
His hand was back, slamming into his own face, breaking the nose with his fist.
Adrenaline aiding to his strength as he continued to beat into the face. Stiles
could see through bruised eyes tears and frustration covering Derek's borrowed
face.
“I can feelyou. Under my skin, crawling and bubbling beneath the surface like
liquid fire. You wormed your way through everything and shattered into a
thousand burning coals that set my veins and crack my skin. But I crawl back to
feel your heat because it's the only thing that reminds me I'm ALIVE.That I'm
STILL FUCKING BREATHING.You makes my head spin and the rest of my body feel so
still, you burn and consume without even fucking knowing. I'm falling into the
darkness of your fucking eyes, but I don't care. I want you to stop this fire,
stop these feelings. But I know, there would be nothing left of me if you did.”
He pounded his fists into the soft flesh of Stiles' face, echoes of cracking
bone and thuds of flesh-on-flesh resounding through Stiles' whimpers. It didn't
matter, though. The pain was superficial, the wounds would heal. Stiles wasn't
afraid anymore. Derek had told him how he felt and even though it wasn't
exactly what Stiles wanted to hear,  it was the truth.
And Derek deserved it too.
“Derek, I love you.” Stiles whispered, tears falling around his bruised eyes.
Derek felt anger surge once again and ripped off Stiles' shirt, pounding him
repeatedly in the stomach.
“I love you!” Stiles cried, his moans of pain cut short by a fit of coughing.
Tears blurred Stiles' vision as Derek beat him harder, his knuckles dripping
blood as he pulled them away to
“I LOVE YOU!” Stiles shouted as Derek sent a final punch to his chest. Stiles
could feel the blood flowing from his broken nose and lips, his right eye was
blinded by swelling flesh. But he could already feel his body knitting the
tissue back together, the dull ache of the pain
“I love you.” he said once again, his chest aching and sobs racking his body.
Derek collapsed on the broken body of Stiles, his eyes stung from the
suppressed tears.
And their lips crashed, Derek pressing their faces together in tight need and
tongued seeking the soft heat of the other's mouth. Stiles' hands shot up,
tugging the hair tightly between fingers, rolling on the bed as they panted and
kissed. Clothing flew off, shirts and pants forgotten in heaps on either side
of the bed. Stiles didn't even care it was his own body he was pleasuring.
Lydia was right, he knew what he liked and he was going to use it.
Stiles leaned over and slowly licked down Derek's shivering neck, tracing the
raised flesh of his collar bone. The wolf was in control now, taking whatever
it wanted and begging for more. Derek let out a soft moan as Stiles' tongue
continued to explore his chest, sucking at his nipples until they stood erect
and pink against his pale flesh.
“Stiles...” Derek's pleas were caught in his throat as Stiles licked his hip
bones, hot breath caressing his quivering length. Stiles stopped and lifted his
head, pulling away from Derek's begging cock. He growled, pulling Derek up by
his hair and throwing him to the other side of the bed.
He scrambled up onto his knees, positioning himself with his legs apart to
reveal his vulnerable backside. The wolf let out a howl of lust, heat pooling
in the tip of Stiles' cock as he scrambled on top of Derek, pressing softly
against his bare ass and his cold fingers wrapping around his wrists.
“Derek... I”
“Fuck me, Stiles.” he growled, rubbing his ass against the dripping cock.
“Hard.” it didn't take anything more for Stiles to slid his dry cock into his
own ass. All of a sudden, nothing mattered to Stiles but the slow and painful
rhythm with Derek. It didn't matter that he was fucking his own body for his
first time, didn't matter that Derek hated him, didn't matter that this was
probably the last time they would be like this. Stiles just wanted this, the
tight heat and the pain.
He just wanted Derek.
All of him.
Stiles pushed deeper, holding the bucking hips against him and pushing with all
his might. A growl of lust erupted from his throat as he yanked Derek's head
back, ripping some hair out.
“Derek-- Fuck I...” Stiles started, watching Derek as his eyes rolling into the
back of his skull. Saliva dripped down his chin as he forced himself harder
against Stiles, moans and gasps escaping his throat.
“Sh..shut...The..fuck up, Stiles!” His voice broke as Stiles thrust faster,
pressing closer to Derek's warm body, trying to relieve the fire that was
burning through them. Derek squirmed against the thick cock, the knot pushing
and aching to be thrust into the tight body. Stiles grunted, the knot finally
sliding through the tight ring of muscles and swelling.
Stiles felt Derek's release surge around his knot, the come dripping down from
his now limp member. Stiles pushed faster, his head snapping back as he felt
the slow crawl of his release burst around the tight ass of his own body. He
collapsed on Derek's back, body shaking as the wolf slowly slunk back into
Stiles' subconscious. They lay panting, Stiles' eyes closing from the pressure
of the knot.
“Derek--” but the world went black before he could even say anything more.
When Stiles woke up, every mark and cut Derek had given him the night before
was gone.
And so was Derek.
Chapter End Notes
     Edit: I'm going to Alaska to research a location for my new book and
     won't have internet or my notes for this fic until the 7th of august.
     so sorry it will be a little for the update!
***** Chapter 8 *****
Chapter Notes
     So sorry this took so long! I was stuck in Alaska a little longer
     than I had planned and I had no internet for WEEKS! So, here I have a
     chapter for you all, thank you for being so patient!
See the end of the chapter for more notes
Stiles got up and puttered around the room, grabbing the rumpled clothing that
smelled like Derek and Stiles' scent mingled together. It was almost too much.
But, because he was a masochist, he slid the shirt on and inhaled it deeply. He
could close his eyes and imagine them, lips crashing together in heat of need.
He wanted to hold that memory forever.
He had managed to clean up the room as much as he could, grabbing Derek's
jacket and sliding it on. Though, when he did, as small piece of paper floated
out and fluttered to the floor. Stiles snatched it, reading over it four or
five times before the knot in his stomach loosened.
Isaac called, trouble at home.
Talk later.
-D
Stiles took a deep, cleansing breath and then flopped back onto the motel bed.
He closed his eyes as he felt tears of relief slide down his cheek. Derek
wasn't running. Derek didn't leave because of what happened. Sure he left, but
this was a pretty good reason. Stiles looked at the clock and saw it was almost
noon. He should probably be getting back to Beacon Hills.
He hopped into the Camaro, which thankfully Derek left him, and slowly pulled
out of the motel and towards the highway. He was feeling better about himself.
True Derek had basically beaten the shit out of him and then begged for his own
cock--
Stiles was just going to stop thinking about things.
He turned himself onto the road and felt his stomach growl loudly, realizing he
hadn't had anything to eat in... a while. So, turning into a greasy spoon off
the side of the highway, he parked the car and walked into the diner style
restaurant. He ordered coffee and the largest burger he could find and then
just settled in to read the paper. And use his werewolf hearing to eavesdrop.
He was going to hell.
There were the usual conversations from teenagers who had been so 'wasted' last
night they couldn't remember anything, a couple old ladies gossiping about who
Robert was seeing now, and of course, two men talking in hushed tones about the
full moon.
Stiles swallowed, training his ears on their conversation and looking up at the
small mirror to see them.
“The blue moon is in two weeks and we still ain't found 'im. He's one person,
how hard can it be?” the lighter brown male spoke first, large dreadlocks tied
back into a small twist and what looked like a claw tucked neatly into it. “And
where the fuck is M?”
“Patience, Chen mawon. You are always quick to bite the head, all things come
in time.” the other one, the darker of the two, spoke with a very heavy accent
that made Stiles wonder where he was from. He shivered slightly as his food was
placed in front of him. He ate slowly, trying to continue listening.
“Fuckin' hate yah mumbo jumbo language Rene. We're in America. Speak American.”
the dreadlocks said, snorting as he finished off his coffee and leaned in
close.
“I do not wish to forget my past, much as you try to forget yours
Mercello.”Stiles felt his blood run cold as 'Rene' spoke, his eyes looking over
dreadlocks again. He swallowed, if he had a shaved head, no goatee and...
Tommy Mercello was in the diner with him.
“I don't wanna forget it, I just wanna move on. And I can't do that until we
get the Stilinski brat.” oh god, and he was talking about him.
“Do you even know where he is? It seems Giamatti was not forthcoming with--
“Shaddup, yah Haitian Voodoo freak. I'm only workin' with yah cause of 'im, so
fuck off” Stiles didn't really want to get in the middle of the conversation
with those two, but he needed to know how close they were to finding out where
Derek and his body were.
“Giamatti is my reason for dealing with his pet.” Mercello growled at that,
licking his lips as he ran a hand down his face.
“I ain't no ones pet, Majik Man. And yah best remember that. I can make it look
like an animal killed yah, did it before and I'll do it again.” Stiles ate his
burger slowly, trying to listen as Mercello's voice dropped into a nearly
inaudible murmur. “We should just grab 'im, yah know?” there was hesitation in
his voice, Stiles chewing the burger in thought as he did.
“Giamatti has been waiting seventeen years, we can wait another ten minutes.”
Rene was slow to talk, Mercello still shifting uncomfortably as he licked his
lips.
“I don't wanna punch yah, but if yah keep saying shit like that I'ma have ta.”
“It should have worked through his system by now, give it a moment.” Rene said,
and when Stiles looked up into the mirror again, the two faces were turned.
On him.
He swallowed, looking around the diner once more and realizing no one was
there. The waitress and staff were gone, all the other customers had left,
leaving Stiles, Rene, and Mercello.
Fuck.
He stood up, pushing away from the counter as he felt the blood rushing to his
head. He swooned, tipping back and trying to catch himself as black encroached
on his vision. He felt weak as he tipped back to the ground, body connecting
with the tiles as he tried to squirm away. The Haitian, Rene, looked over him
as he slid a hand over Stiles' eyes.
“Sleep, chen mawon Hale, soon you will feel nothing...”
And the world was dark.
Stiles woke up with a splitting headache and his arms chained above him. He
shook in them for a moment, trying to see if he could break free. There was a
tweak and he winced in pain as electricity surged through his body. He wanted
to let out a scream, but there was a gag over his mouth. He looked around the
room, eyes adjusting to the low light.
It was a warehouse that had been made into a sort of loft. There was a couch,
ripped to shreds and looking like it had been taken out of the dump. Two small
cots were pushed on either side of the wall. One looked clean and orderly, the
other a mess of sheets and pillows.
Three guesses which is Mercello's...Stiles thought, his eyes continued to roam
around. There was a table with two chairs that were mismatched, a fridge and a
stove where a pot was bubbling. He could see Rene standing over the pot,
humming to himself as he slowly stirred in something. Stiles didn't like the
smell, recognizing it as Aconite. He growled, shaking in the chains as Rene
looked over him and smiled.
“Good morning, chen mawon.” he smiled, grabbing a spoon and scooping up some of
the pot's mixture into a glass and bringing it over to Stiles. He slipped the
gag off and pressed the glass to his lips.
“Drink, drink. You have nothing to fear. You are worth more alive.” Stiles
drank the concoction down, licking his lips as he swallowed slowly. Then the
world slowly faded again.
He woke up again some time later, he couldn't tell how long it had been. There
was an IV attached to him, slowly dripping as he looked around. Rene was
sitting at the table, flipping pages of a book slowly.
“W-w--” he was cut off as the warehouse door opened and Mercello walked in with
a grin on his face.
“Derek Hale, Alpha of Beacon Fucking' Hills. The one town we can't find shit.”
Stiles blinked at the man's words, looking over him. Rene nodded, retuning to
the pot still boiling on the stove and filling another glass. “So, tell me.
What the hell kinda majick man have you gots protecting your lil' shit hole?”
Stiles frowned at that.
“What the hell are you talking about? Magic man?” there was a small sound of
static and the electricity rolled through him making him wince in pain. Rene
tutted.
“You should tell him what he wants to know, mesye Hale. The last wolf he had
tortured for information did not come back.”
Fuck.
“I don't know! No one tells me anything!” Stiles said honestly, but the
electricity ran through him again and made him whine in pain.
“Alpas. Know. Everythin'.” Mercello said, grinning a little wider. “Its the
best part about it.” He leaned forward, running a knife down his chest lightly.
“Hmmm I always wondered. If I cut off a part of a wolf's body... Will it grow
back? Nothing yah'd miss... maybe yah cock.” Stiles thought Derek would
probably miss that and decided to just talk.
“We have a witch! Lydia! But... She's not with us anymore!” it was a lie, a
pretty good one though. Lydia was a 'witch'... Mercello raised a brow and
looked over to Rene. The man shrugged, pressing the glass to Stiles' lips and
forcing him to drink another glass of the foul stuff. He groaned as he
swallowed it, head feeling lighters and eyes wavering. The world was blacking
out around the edges and he swallowed hard as he fell asleep once more.
“I have not heard of a witch called Lydia. And I know of all the American
registered ones. If he were telling the truth, she would be powerful enough to
hide herself. That would explain why we cannot find the town.”
Wait. What? Stiles blinked awake a while later, looking over the two of them as
his eyes focused. So they couldn't find Beacon Hills? Was that even possible?
It was kinda on maps and road atlases and everything else. Kind of impossible
not to find. Rene must have picked up on the confusion and smiled.
“We cannot find the town because of your little witch. Only you know the way,
you can lead us. I swear I will not hurt your pack, nor will we hurt any of the
people. We only need the one. Stilinski.” Rene said sweetly, Stiles felt his
heart pounding.
“He's worried.” Mercello said, listening to the beating heart. “He must know
'im.” Rene rose a brow and frowned.
“He isn't a wolf, is he? If he is this is all for nothing... And we'll have no
use for you.” Stiles swallowed, taking a deep breath.
“He's in my pack” he said softly, the words from Derek's mouth making Stiles
cringe at how badly he wanted that to be true. Mercello scoffed.
“Don't mean I can't use 'im. Been a while since I've had a lil' fun with a wolf
pack. Maybe we should go huntin'.” his grin was wide, almost predatory as he
twisted the knife down to cut Derek's shirt to reveal pale flesh. “Maybe I'll
start with yah. Have you ever taken a knot, boy?” and Stiles flashed back to
the night before, his eyes hazy.
“OH? I think our lil' friend likes that. Got himself a mate back home? Hmmm?
Who's yah mate.” he ripped the shirt off completely, leaving Stiles panting
slightly. There was another glass to his lips, forcing him to drink it down.
“What... What are you...” he huffed, the drink being shoved down his throat. He
was heavy in the chains, the electricity forgotten as he felt something well up
inside him. It was deadly, sickening, lust. He tugged on the chains, trying to
get away from the feeling and Mercello smiled. His eyes flickered and the
darkness took him once more.
Stiles felt his eyes flicker open in the darkness. The IV was gone and Stiles
was in his own body again, his eyes wide as he looked over to the figure in the
room. Derek stood there in his own body, raising an eyebrow at the teenager.
Stiles tried to move, but he was still chained to the wall where Mercello and
Rene left him.
“De--” He started, but Derek walked forward, rolling his fingers over Stiles'
naked chest.
“You always find yourself in trouble don't you? Maybe I should leave you tied
up, like a present for myself...” Stiles swallowed. He shook a little, the
fingers of Derek running down and tugging at the waist band of his jeans. “I
could unwrap you slowly, tease you until you are ready to pop like warm
champagne and beg for me to hurt you even more.”
“Oh god.” Stiles whined, shaking in the chains as the fingers brushed the bare
chest slowly. An itch moving through the teen as he tried to get away. “You...
we need to tal--”
“I've always want to run my fingers over your chest. To find out if you’re as
soft, as smooth as you look, follow it with my tongue, tasting you.” he licked
up the chest now, sliding the tongue barely under the jeans to tease the boy.
Stiles whined, looking over him slowly with lust filled eyes.
“You said we--”
“Your skin tastes just how it smells, sweet and salty. Like all the candy and
french fries you eat. God I just want to eat you up.” there was a moment of
pause before the wolf's fingers tore off the jeans and nuzzled into Stiles'
very hard cock, still clothed in boxers.
“No...please I--”
“And your cock?” he mouthed at the cock, making Stiles sputter and arch into
the mouth.
“Bitter. But not enough to make me stop. And lower? Have you ever had someone
rim you? Probably not, but with me, you'll have every sexual experience
imaginable. And first thing? I'll tongue fuck you until you scream for me.”
Derek's fingers curled into the fabric and soon Stiles was naked in the binds.
The teen was panting, watching as the wolf nuzzled to the cock, barely touching
its.
“Yes... Yes please! Please I--”
“Dig my claws into your soft, creamy skin, part your cheeks, and lick you from
tailbone to balls. I'd claim you. I'd make you think you had died and gone to
heaven.” Derek went on, his breath ghosting over the flesh and Stiles not sure
he could take it.
“Touch me! Oh fuck, touch me!”
“Brush the tip of my tongue over your entrance, then I’d gently suck the
puckered flesh into my mouth, and slip into your damp entrance.” The wold was
rolling his fingers over the dripping cock, sending a smile up to the panting
Stiles.
“PLEASE!”
“I’d push past your entrance, laving your inner walls with my tongue. Thrusting
in as far as you could take me, searching for that sweet spot that would make
you see stars. I know I can touch it, I've done it before. My tongue is like
magic. I’d tongue fuck you against that spot until you came, screaming my
name.”
Stiles was close, his body shaking in need as he bucked his hips, his cock
rubbing against the stubble on Derek's chin and his heart pounding as he tried
to hold himself together.
When all he wanted to do was fall apart.
“I’d brand you and no one but me would ever touch you again.” that was it,
Stiles was coming in a haze of lust, his hands in tight balls as he let out a
howl.
“DEREK!” he whimpered, looking down as the hallucination faded and he was faced
with the realization that it hadn't been Derek. He was still in Derek's body,
still being held captive by the two men. Rene smiled softly, getting up from
the floor and licking his hand clean of the sticky white fluid.
“It is amazing what one can get out of someone with their mouth and a little
wolfsbane.” he licked his lips and grabbed a towel.
“The fucker called his own name, Rene. He ain't got a mate.” Mercello said,
crossing his arms as Stiles came down from his high.
“That's not Derek Hale. A little birdy told me.” a third voice called, a man
walking into the warehouse and Stiles let out a low whimper of fear. Marcurio
Giamatti walked in with a bright smile and the head of Alphonse Wiseau in his
hands. He threw the head to the floor, stepping on it as the sound of bone
crushing echoed through the walls.
“Daddy's home.” Stiles blacked out.
When he came to, Giamatti was standing next to him and slowly running a hand
through his hair.
Stiles wanted to throw up.
“Good morning, son.” Stiles snarled and snapped his jaws, teeth bared and claws
out as he tried to wiggle away from the touch.
“You aren't my dad.” he barked, trying to pull away as Giamatti moved to the
chair he had pulled up next to the wall.
“Don't look at me like that. I sent you birthday gifts every year! Don't you
like the computer I gave you? The car?” Stiles snarled at him as Giamatti
laughed. “The bright, blue jeep that your simple Sheriff father could never
afford on his salary? Hmmm, I think that was my greatest gift actually. Did
your father say it was your mothers? That was my idea. Did it work?”
Stiles wanted to sob, because of course his dad did. That was why Betty had
been so important to him. Now she was just a car.
“What do you want?” Stiles said finally, their eyes meeting. The dark, brown
eyes he shared with the man. He wanted to gouge them out, make him eat them as
Stiles watched.
“Some father son quality time.” he smiled, slapping Stiles' cheek gently. “But,
if you must know. I really want to find Beacon Hills. See, Derek Hale has
something of mine and I want it back.” Stiles looked the man slowly over and
then let his jaw clench.
“Those witches... in the forest...” Giamatti nodded, turning to Rene.
“My clan.” Rene said, bowing low. “It was their duty to find and secure your
body for our master. They failed and were slaughter by your guard dog--”
Giamatti hushed the man, looking over Stiles.
“Why? Why my body?” the man gave him a patronizing look and rolled his eyes.
“Honestly? I was told you were a smart boy. I'm ashamed... I should have been a
better father..” Stiles snapped at him and the man leaned in closer. “Because
you are a special boy.” he grinned, making Stiles' blood freeze. “You were born
to be a sacrifice, fed like a sacrificial lamb and led to the slaughter by the
people you want to protect.” he let out a giggle, backing off and running a
hand down the face. “You weren't born to save the world, you were born to die.”
Stiles was shaking in fear as the man's eyes slowly shifted from the brown to
bright flames flames that seemed to be drawing Stiles into them.
“I-- I'm not a virgin.” he swallowed, trying to look away as he found it
impossible to do so. The man blinked, his eyes fading back to their normal
brown before he grabbed Stiles' jaw and unhinged it. Stiles screamed in pain,
tears streaming down and his body trembling in fear.
“You think that is why you were chosen? No, it has nothing to do with who
you've fucked or wanted to fuck. It has nothing to do with your body, because
I'll be wearing your skin. No, what we need is your soul. You are an innocent,
born from pain and suffering, yet you survived. Your soul is that of a warrior,
a fighter. Untainted and brimming with life.”
“What are you?” Stiles whimpered, his jaw slowly healing. Giamatti gave him a
raised brow and smiled slowly as he ran a hand through Derek's hair and gripped
it tightly.
“Before humanity was a glimmer in the eyes of the world, after the great war
between Heaven and Hell, there was a creature of light and a creature of
darkness. One to lead the good and just, one to balance the world. There was
magic then, nobility, and unimaginable cruelty. Now, the lines have been
blurred: Good, evil, right, wrong. Man has forever traded away wonder for
reason, magic for science, truth for comfort.
“You shall be my vessel and I will sanctify the streets with the steaming black
blood of those who dare stand in my way. I will build this world to what it
once was; a kingdom that will last for thousands and thousands of years. For I
am the Phoenix, and I shall rise from the ashes of my enemies and rule this
world.”
“And the cliffs notes of this rant is you are crazy!” Stiles said before he
could stop himself, Giamatti looking over him with a slight smile.
“You will see. But first, you must lead us to Beacon Hills. The blue moon is
tomorrow night, and I need my body.”
Stiles wasn't happy about being bound to the Camaro's steering wheel and a gun
pointed to the back of his skull. He looked over to the side where Rene sat in
the passenger seat and smiled sweetly at him.
“To Beacon Hills, if you would.” Stiles grumbled and motioned for the car to be
shifted for him. He could drive them over the bridge, kill them all with
himself included. But then Derek would be stuck in Stiles' body and while that
wouldn't be a terrible thing, Isaac was Derek's second in command.
And Isaac as an Alpha was a scary thought.
“Why are you here?” Stiles asked Rene, motioning to Mercello who was holding
the gun to his head. “Him too, why do you both work for Giamatti?” Rene thought
for a minute, licking his lips and then cracking a smile.
“Power, chen mawon. All men seek it, all men are consumed by it. I have been by
his side since the day the sun exploded and the world we know now came into
being. I have seen people rendered mute by fools who spoke many words but said
nothing, people for whom oppression and cowardice were virtues and freedom, an
obscenity. Giamatti, for all his faults, is the man who can loosen their
tongues and bring truth to a world of lies.”
Mercello scoffed, the gun pressing tighter to him.
“I just wanna kill things.” Stiles nodded, actually liking Mercello's answer
better than Rene's. It was honest and seemed a little less brainwashy. “And the
pay is pretty good”
“Money is a good agent of power.” Rene said simply, they two of them gazing at
each other as they drove down the highway. Giamatti was following in a car
behind them, since he was still on parole and couldn't be seen with Mercello.
“Yeah, yeah. Yah can suck my dick, Majick Man. But, money buys me bitches and
beer.” Rene wrinkled his nose at the vulgar statement. Stiles remembered that
the only link the two had was Giamatti, which wasn't something strong enough to
break them when the time was right.
Meaning when a gun wasn't pointed to his head and threatening to blow his
brains out. They drove in relative silence through the whole trip, Stiles
actually keeping his mouth shut until they reached the outskirts of town.
“So. No offense, but how are you going to get Derek and my body to the place
where the sacrifice has to take place? Because he's not stupid. He can smell a
trap from a mile away.” Stiles was glad he said it sarcastically, otherwise
Mercello would have smelled the lie on him a mile away.
Rene motioned for Stiles to pull the car over into a small clearing off the
side. He cut the binds to Stiles and parked the car. He motioned for Stiles to
get out, Mercello following after. The three of them stood together as Rene
pulled Derek's leather jacket out from the trunk of the car and pulled out a
cell phone. Derek's cell phone.
He typed something quickly, looking over the message and then holding the phone
up so that Stiles could read the message.
Been shot. SOS. In woods- S
“Oh damn, you guys are good.” and the gun went off.
Chapter End Notes
     I'm thinking another chapter or two and an Epilogue.
     But, I'm still debating if Derek and Stiles should actually get
     together.... Hmmmmm
***** Chapter 9 *****
Chapter Notes
     At first I was confused as to why there were so many negative
     comments on the chapter. Then I realized I put the wrong draft up.
     I'm sorry, have the real chapter...

“Stiles.” the voice was fuzzy, like it was being spoken through cellophane wrap
and over a mega phone at the same time. He wanted to strangle whoever it was.
“Stiles.” the voice spoke again, making him open his eyes as he looked up into
his own face. He blinked, licking his lips and frowning.
“Derek?” his voice was rough, something very painful itching the back of his
throat. He tasted the metal of the bullet where it had gone through his mouth,
groaning as he sat up. “Ow... I hate being shot.”
“Tell me about it.” the two of them were in the middle of the burnt Hale house,
Derek running his hands through Stiles' hair in a very unDerek motion. He
swallowed, looking around the house and then back to Derek.
“We have to go. The blue moon is--”
“You've been gone for WEEKS!” Derek interrupted, his eyes glinting in the low
light of the rising moon. He looked nervous, his body stiff as he held himself
back from touching Stiles.
“Were... you worried about me?” Stiles asked, smiling despite himself. Derek
looked away, biting his lip.
“The last thing that happened was me beating the shit out of you and begging
you to fuck me, yeah I was a little worried.” he looked unabashed and Stile had
nothing to say. His eyes widened and he looked over Derek.
“You're acting like me.” Derek blinked, frowning as he shook his head. Stiles
just gave him an eyebrow raise and Derek's eyes widened.
“Oh holy hell.” he said softly. “We need to change bodies, and soon. The blue
moon--”
“Is tonight.” a voice broke in between the two of them. Stiles snarled, the
beta form slipping out and he stood in front of Derek to protect him.
Which, hello? Was really weird.
“Who the hell is that?” Derek asked as Giamatti, Mercello, and Rene walked into
the burnt out house. Stiles swallowed, eyes never leaving Giamatti.
“I'm Stilinski's real father.” he grinned and Stiles wanted to rip his throat
out. He held himself back, however, he didn't want to leave Derek unguarded.
Giamatti walked forward, his steps making the wood creak and moan. Rene
followed behind, muttering something as he threw black dust over the floor.
Mercello just looked happy to be in his Beta form and snapping his jaws.
“You are no such thing. Derek, you need to run.” Stiles shot back. “Just RUN!”
Derek hesitated for a moment, but then he started to turn and run. There was a
second pause, but then Rene held his hand up and smiled.
“Sispann” the Haitian muttered, and Derek was frozen in his steps. Stiles
looked over him with wide eyes and Rene grinned.
“You are not the only one who grows stronger on the full moon, chen mawon.”
Stiles licked his lips and swallowed as Mercello walked forward and grabbed
Derek by the hair. He dragged him over to the group and threw him on the
ground. Stiles was about to rush up, run to him and throw himself over the body
but Mercello grabbed him and threw him across the floor.
“Stay.” Giamatti commented, smiling wide. “Good boy.”
“Leave him alone!” Derek growled, though it was less effective from his
position on the floor surrounded by Rene and Giamatti. “If all you want is me--
”
“Oh look at this one! Me, me, me. Well guess what, Mr. Hale. This isn't about
you. This is about the vessel you are currently occupying and the soul
currently in your meat sack. So. Here is how it is going to go down. Either you
agree to switch back to your own body and walk away from this, or I will kill
you and Stilinski.”
Stiles squirmed trying to get up, but Mercello put a heel to his throat and
slowly pressed down making it almost impossible to breath. Derek looked between
the two of them, eyes searching Stiles' for something.
“Why are you--”
“Always with he questions. Well, I suppose I have all night.” Giamatti sat down
and ran his hand over Derek's borrowed face and squeezed the cheeks. “It is a
very attractive body. I can't wait to use it...” he removed his hand, slowly
rolling up his long sleeve shirt. The skin was flaking, peeling off like the
shedding skin of a reptile.
“This is why. Once a body reaches a certain age, it is no longer functioning
the way it should. See, a Phoenix must be reborn every so often, and the best
choice is one infused with the blessing of the phoenix. Your friend over there,
being half my genes, is the best vessel I could have. But, I'm not complaining.
If worse came to worse, I could find someone else. As long as they were a pure,
innocent, human.” he smiled with a curl of his lips.
Derek's eyes widened as he looked over the man. Stiles could see a look cross
over his face for a brief moment, but it was gone in a second. He nodded
slowly, sitting up a little but making no move to bolt.
“So. You couldn't be in my body because--” he made growling noise and curled
his hands to look like he had claws. Stiles was actually pretty impressed with
how Derek was acting just like him. It was a little creepy.
“Exactly.” Rene was walking around the room, muttering as he slowly made a ring
of black ash around Derek and Giamatti. Derek was forced to stand up, his eyes
locking with Giamatti's as he squared his shoulders and growled.
Rene pulled out an old book, flipping through the pages and clearing his
throat. Stiles turned to look at dark room as the light from the moon trickled
in. The moon would be in full peak soon and all he think about was how he would
never get to see Scott or his dad again. He should have said I love you more,
should have showed he cared.
And then the fire started.
It wasn't an actual fire, just Scott, Isaac, Boyd, Erica and Peter and jumping
down from the banisters and roof of the burnt out house, surrounding them.
Stiles cheered a little as Erica cracked down on the top of Mercello and
knocked him out with a large metal pipe.
“Hey Batman.” she grinned, looking over him and offering her hand to help him
up. Stiles took it, brushing himself off and grinning wide.
“Hey there Catwoman.” they shared a small grin, the two of them turning now as
Derek grabbed a large shard of glass and held it to his neck.
“Back off.” Giamatti held up his hands, taking a step back as Peter grabbed
some rope and quickly tied the man up to the bannister. Derek threw the glass
away, walking to Stiles and looking over him.
“You ok?” he asked finally, clapping a hand on his shoulder and looking for
signs of hurt or uncomfortable motions. Stiles nodded, licking his lips and
looking where Giamatti was tied. He frowned slightly, shaking his head.
“I don't like this. It was easy... nothing--”
“Don't SAY that!” Scott whined, looking up from where he had Rene bound and
gagged. “This was not easy! We all had to be quiet and try telling that to
Peter!” the older wolf scoffed and crossed his arms, looking over Giamatti.
“I agree...” Derek said softly. “The moon has only just risen... we are
probably in for a long night...” there was a groan, Mercello waking up. Erica
slammed him over the head again and the wolf crumbled. Stiles winced. He knew
first hand how strong Erica's arm was when there was metal in it.
“Let's get out of here then.” Scott suggested. “Bury them alive or something.
Just enough so that they won't be able to come after us until the blue moon is
past and you two are in you—” there was a crack, all eyes turning to Giamatti
who was looking down at his lap. Stiles took a step back as the skin cracked on
his face and slowly peeled away like a shell.
“Uh.... Guys...” he took a step back, grabbing Derek by the shirt and dragging
him towards the door. His eyes never left Giamatti. “Like... now. Please? I--”
there was another crack as moon light seeped through the room. It barely
touched Giamatti, but the man looked up with those flaming eyes. Rene was
ungaged as Scott backed up to put himself next to Stiles, his eyes wide.
“Long live the Phoenix.” Rene called as the binds broke in a blinding light.
Stiles and Derek were forced back against the wall by the light and the rest of
the pack were sent to the floor. Fire scattered over the burnt out house, Peter
scurrying away from it as he watched with wide eyes filled with fear.
“What the--” Giamattie stood, face contorted into something that looked similar
to that of a beta wolf, though the extra hair was feathers, golden and dancing
with fires. Wings spread over his back, expansive and sending some of the beams
crashing to the ground. He let out a call, screeching like a bird as he turned
his eyes to Stiles and Derek.
“OUT!” Peter yelled, grabbing Erica and Isaac and throwing them out of the
house while Boyd grabbed Derek and Scott raced after Stiles. They were out of
the house when it slowly started to collapse, fire setting the timber left
aflame and three bodies walking out. Rene was muttering under his breath, the
book still firmly held in his hand, Mercello snarling as he shifted into his
full Alpha form. Stiles took a step back, about to shift into wolf form too,
when a hand was on his shoulder.
“Don't you dare, Stilinski.” he blinked, turning to see Deaton and Jackson
standing with a group of four wolves. Jackson grinned eyes flashing bright red.
“Holy FUCK!” Stiles cried Deaton sending him a smile and then turning his eyes
on Rene. The two locked eyes, sparks flying between them, and spells suddenly
flying through the air.
“DEREK!” Scott yelled, Stiles already turning away from the battle as he
watched Jackson turn into an Alpha wolf. The other four in Beta form and
following in perfect formation behind him. Stiles would have to ask about it
when he wasn't running for his life.
They turned, Boyd and Isaac protecting the two as they tried to rush towards
the cars. A bright light passed before them, a fireball crashing onto the cars
and setting both the Camaro and the Jeep aflame.
“GET THEM!” a voice called, Stiles looking to see that Giamatti had made fire
gollums, tiny creatures from the ashes of the house that were no taller than
Stiles' knees. He swallowed every step they took set the grass on fire,
spreading through the entire clearing as they progressed towards Derek and
Stiles.
“Ok. So, this is probably the most epic thing I will ever see in my entire
life. And I'm going to die.” Stiles moaned the gollums circling the two of them
and forcing them back to back. Stiles had picked up a metal pipe and was
swinging it at them in an attempt to make a gap.
“Just shut up and let me think!” Derek said, trying to run through the space
Stiles had cleared, but more gollums appeared and filled the gaps.
“Just so you know...” Stiles started, but Derek interrupted him.
“I didn't meant to run out! I was so... confused about you, Stiles. I didn't
mean to be a dick. It's just how I deal with conflict.”
“Well, it's a good thing you came back.” Stiles said sarcastically. “You would
have missed your death!” Derek snorted, looking to Stiles.
“I'm not good with the whole... Word thing.” Derek mumbled, licking his lips
and backing closer to Stiles. “But...You are in my body. You can feel my wolf.
Just, let the wolf take control for a moment, let the feelings of the animal
wash over you and--” Stiles frowned even deeper, rolling his eyes three times.
“So... You are going to make me stop in the middle of a battle with a phoenix
to connect to your wolf? This seems like a perfectly legitimate excuse to--”
“Would you stop talking and do what I asked, for ONCE?” Derek was all but
shouting now making Stiles' jaw drop and his eyes flick over the man. He
nodded, licking his lips and sighing.
“Ok! Ok! Oh my god...” he slowly closed his eyes, relaxing and feeling the tug
of the wolf in the back of his mind.
Meat. Meat. Meat. Stiles could feel the growing hunger, the desire to hunt, to
kill, to call for his pack. He pressed forward, letting his mind wander slowly
into the recessed of Derek's wolfie brain and let the thoughts form around him.
Most of the time they were small slivers of conversations, some so scattered he
couldn't piece them together.
“What are you doing here? This is private property.” You smell so good, who the
hell are you?
“Start the car, or I'm gonna rip your throat out. With my teeth.” I'm dying and
you don't even care.
“This. No fit.” It actually does fit. I just want you to pay attention to me.
"I'm thinking about punching you in the face." W ith my lips.
“Did you noticed I'm paralyzed from the neck down in 8 feet of water?” I hope
we stay like this for a long time, I love feeling you against me.
"Still got some teeth. Why don't you get down here a little closer, huh? We'll
see how helpless I am." You hurt my mate, I'm going to kill you.
Stiles broke out of the trance, licking his lips and gazing over the wolf with
awe and shock.
“I don't want to run anymore.” he said simply, looking over him and sighing.
“I'm sick of running.” and Derek grabbed Stiles' chin into a deep kiss. Stiles
let out a whimper as he kissed back, nearly dropping the pipe and saying to
hell with surviving.
“You dick!” he pulled away finally, tightening his grip on the pipe and
slamming the gollums away. “you are no longer allowed to die, you hear me? You
can't die.”
Derek grinned, his eyes sparkling as he nodded.
“Whatever you say, Stiles.” Deaton and Rene were still throwing spells at each
other, the two locked in combat that was growing in intensity every moment it
continued. Jackson and Peter were attacking Mercello who seemed to be beating
them back pretty well, and the rest of the wolves were attacking Giamatti while
avoiding the fires surrounding them.
“This is going no where. We need to--” Derek was about to say something, when
there was an explosion and debris shot through his stomach and send him
crippling over. Stiles was wide eyed as he looked over his own bleeding body.
“OH fuck...” Stiles whispered, his hands shaking as he pressed them to the
wound to stop the bleeding. A thick piece of metal was through his side it
looked like it missed his spinal cord by centimeters and he might survive if he
got to a hospital soon. “Oh shit... no hey...” Stiles swallowed and grabbed his
hand as he looked over him.
“It... it's fine...” Derek coughed lightly. Blood welling up in his mouth as it
spilled over his chin “You'll be a good Alpha, you know that right? Just...
don't let Peter kill my body. I really am fond--”
“STOP! You aren't going to die... Blood... Werewolf blood heals right?”
“Only... Alpha.” Derek said. Then his eyes widened and he shook his head. “No,
Stil--”
“No! I got this... Will it turn me?” Derek swallowed his eyes widening as he
coughed again.
“Stiles... it will take too--”
“Will. It. Turn. Me?” he asked, looking over Derek and feeling his eyes shift
to bright red. Derek closed his eyes.
“I don't know. It might, it might make you just hungry or have a faster meta--”
he coughed blood again, the bright red sending a stark contradiction to his
pale skin. Stiles swallowed.
“Oh hell, who the fuck cares.” and he ripped a scratch down his arm and pressed
it to Derek. There was a moment of coughing the man trying to swallow his own
blood as well as Stiles' the pale flesh growing paler.
“NO!” there was a sound of a bird screeching, Giamatti looking over as he saw
the moon slowly setting. “NO!” he took a step forward eyes looking over the
fires that were slowly dying as the moon was slowly fading. Stiles looked over
to Deaton, the man noticing the change in the moon and nodding as he continued
to fight.
“Alli permutat anima kimota.” Stiles swallowed, hearing the words flow over him
slowly than he would have liked. Jackson's pack began to tackle Giamatti, the
flames of his phoenix fire slowly dying as the moon was being force into the
west.
“HURRY!” he shouted, Giamatti letting out a howl as he fought the pack off and
tried to speed forward to the pair.
“Alli permutat anima kimota. Alli permutat anima kimota!” Deaton finished,
Stiles removing his wrist.
“Stiles!””Derek.” they both spoke a shiver running through them as something
ripped through them. Stiles closed his eyes, biting his lip and hoping this
works. When he opened them again, he was in so much pain, his body cold as he
looked up at Derek.
“Stiles!” Derek all but whimpered, his hand running over his jaw. “Stay with
me...”
“YOU FOOLS!” Giamatti called. “accipe sacrificium pro te animam, mentem, in
castitate. patitur tua puer ad hanc formam et adducite--”there was a snap, the
trees shaking as Giamatti looked down. Rene was pausing the battle with Deaton,
his hand slowly turning darker black and blow away like ash.
“He is not pure, Giamatti! The gods are angry with you!” he let out a wail of
pain, his body all but blowing away in the wind as he took one step towards
Giamatti with an outstretched hand. “Master!” and soon there was nothing left
of the voodoo master. Giamatti looked over to Mercello, the man slowly blowing
away in the wind.
“NO! NO! I'm not one of them! STOP! LET ME GO! NO!” he ran off to the flaming
Hale house, though his body soon faded into ash as well, all of the black
flakes whirling around Giamatti as they slowly started to attach to him.
“Fools... I AM GOD! You cannot Kill the phoenix. I shall rise from the ash and-
-” he let out a groan, Peter having shoved a pipe through him and giving him a
grin.
“Take it from some one who's died. You aren't coming back.” and he ripped the
pipe through, splitting Giamatti in half and sending pieces of him flying
through the air like red hail. Stiles closed his eyes, the justice of the
situation making him feel better than any of Derek's coddling.
“Stiles... I'm going to remove the metal. If the blood is going to heal you...”
“Do it.” Stiles said softly, gripping the grass at his side as Derek pulled the
large shard out of him. Stiles let out a scream of pain, Scott rushing to his
side and taking as much of the pain as he could muster. Isaac did the same on
the other side, Erica grabbing his head and smiling down.
“You can't die, Batman. Who else will I fight?” Stiles took a breath, shaky and
filled with pain as he looked down to his side.
“I take it back... Derek, you can be in this body... I bet you... you can
handle the pain...” Stiles whined, closing his eyes once more and gripping the
grass as he swallowed.
“I do miss your scent.” Derek said softly, leaning down and pressing their lips
together once more, taking his share of Stiles' pain.
And the world went black.
Stiles woke up in the hospital with a very concerned Melissa standing over his
bed. Stiles blinked a little, her face was nearly inches from his.
“Did you take the bite?” she asked with suspicion. Stiles shook his head,
biting his lip.
“But I did drink werewolf blood.” she made a face and rose a brow. He looked
down lifting his blankets and looking over the wound slowly.
Or where the wound should have been.
“Oh my god it works” Melissa gave him a look and crossed her arms.
“So, am I going to have to guess what happened or are you going to tell me
about it?” Stiles paused a little, looking over his body again and biting his
lip.
“Uh, guess.” he said, the door opening and Derek walking in to the room.
Melissa rose a brow and stood up, letting the man settle in the seat by the
bed. She shot a look over them once more before walking out and closing the
door.
“Stiles.”
“Derek.” they were quiet for a moment. “So...” Stiles really didn't know what
to say to the man.
“That night... the one where...” Derek started, looking away. “I wasn't hurting
you... I was trying to hurt myself. I was angry with myself that... that I
couldn't do anything... that you were helpless and I... I stood there unable to
protect you. From Giamatti, from myself... hell, from anything.” he looked up
at the teenager's eyes, looking over him. “I thought I didn't deserve to be
happy.”
Stiles was quiet, listening to the words and feeling so moved by them. He
wanted to say something just as profound, just as unique and special.
But this was Stiles.
“You think I'm gorgeous, you want to kiss me...You want to hug me... You want
to love me... You want to mate me... You want to smooch me... You want to...”
his song was interrupted by Derek's mouth finding his, their bodies pressing
close as Stiles mewled.
“You're hurt...” Derek started, pulling away. Stiles grappled at him, tugging
him tighter.
“No, no! Don't stop, Stiles likey--” the door opened then, Sheriff Stilinski
looking over the two of them and then clearing his throat.
“Is... Is this a bad time, because I can come back--” Derek shook his head,
standing up again and nodding to John.
“You deserve to see your son.” he frowned a little. “I'm sorry I didn't protect
him as well as I promised.” John clapped Derek on the shoulder, their eyes
meeting for a brief moment.
“He's alive. And that is all I asked.” they shared a smile before Derek left
and closed the door behind him. Stiles sat up a little, looking over the man
and took a deep breath.
“Hey dad.” John smiled, sitting down where Derek had been and running his
fingers over a manilla envelope in his hand.
“Hey son.” he swallowed a little, looking over him. “Stiles, there is
something... Something your mother and I never told you.” he ran his fingers
through his hair. “And... Derek... brought it up, last night while you were...”
he nodded to the bed, biting his lip. “I might not be your biological father.
And Derek suggested that... we test it since we recovered...” he was quiet for
a moment, handing the envelope over. “Well. It's yours to know.”
Stiles swallowed hard, hands shaking as he turned it over to read the neat
typeface of the envelope.
BioLife DNA tests, rushed requested results included.
He slid his thumb through the top and pulled out the results, his hands shaking
as he slowly read through the garbled data he didn't care about.
DNA #1 'Stiles' Brian Stilinski: Blood type AB+
DNA #2 Mauricio Francisco Giamatti: Blood type O+
Percentage of paternity based on Parentage Index: 6%
DNA #1 'Stiles' Brian Stilinski: Blood type AB+
DNA #2 Johnathon Brian Stilinski : Blood Type A-
Percentage of paternity based on Parentage Index: 89%
Stiles held the paper in his hands, looking over the results and sobbed in
relief.
The next day they all gathered in the small veterinarian clinic at Deaton's
request, Derek and his wolf pack standing to the side as Scott hovered
protectively over Stiles with out any let go
“I'm sure you all were wondering about what happened the night of the blue
moon.” Deaton filled in, a dog barking on the other side of the wall. Derek
shot a look and snarled, the barking ceasing.
“Yeah, actually. Like, how come my body wasn't pure?” Stiles asked, crossing
his arms and raising a brow. “Like... It wasn't the werewolf blood because I
didn't turn into a wolf. So I was human...”
“Stiles, it wasn't that you weren't pure. It had nothing to do with you.
Giamatti was dead long before the fight even happened.” Stiles was confused. It
seemed everyone else was too, so the teenager continued his questions.
“Deaton, he was pretty much alive when he forced me to drive into Beacon Hills
so they--” Something caught his attention in that statement. “The powerful
spell... the one that was hiding Beacon Hills... Was that--”
“Me.” the vet said, humming a little. “Yes, Stiles. I have been hiding Beacon
Hills from Giamatti and his men since your family moved into Beacon Hills. It
was my duty to protect you and your family from this ever happening. But,
because I'm growing old... they slipped through my defense. When I did gain
control once more, the spell worked perfectly on the two minions.” he paused,
something flashing over his face.
“The man himself...” Deaton let his voice roll over in a chuckle that sounded
so evil to Stiles. “Well, he deserved to be killed like a man.” Peter grinned a
little, nodding as he leaned against the wall.
Stiles didn't want to ever get on the man's bad side.
“Well, thanks for clearing that bit up. And... Jackson? He didn't tell me who
called him and his pack but I assume that was you?” Deaton was quiet, then let
out a huff. Derek turned away, his eyes not looking up.
“The two weeks you were missing, Derek was calling every contact he could think
of for a search party. Jackson and those wolves were only there after he
pleaded and begged for them to come help find you. And then it took extra
convincing on Lydia's part for them to take more than just Jackson. Derek was
looking out for you, even if he didn't want you to know.”
Stiles swallowed, looking up over Derek and shooting him a smile. Derek must
have felt the eyes on him because he looked up and let his mouth form a small
smile back. They would have to have a serious talk about everything that had
happened these past few months.
But Stiles knew it would end up alright.
“One more question. Giamatti said something about the creature of light and
creature of darkness. Which was he?” Deaton shot him a look, but didn't
contradict him in any way.
“Stiles, man is not meant to live forever. His mind will fade just as much as
his body, a cancer corrupting the spirit. He was nearly a thousand years old,
delusional that he was a chosen creature to purify the world. But he was a man,
Stiles. A man with a very powerful friend who believed he was a god. Magic can
make us see things that aren't there. Make us.. crazy... He was not a Phoenix,
I don't think he was even human. At best, he was originally an Alpha wolf who
thought himself a god.”
Stiles licked his lips, everything Deaton had said made sense. Giamatti was a
person, not a creature from mythology. A person who had been tricking people
like Rene to follow him through the path he deemed right.
In the end, they were just scared of what was on the other side.
They were human.
***** Epilouge *****
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes
                                One year later.
Stiles stepped off the airplane, running a hand through his thick hair and
adjusting his backpack. Derek trudged after him, dragging their carry ons with
a smile that could have rivaled Allison's.
Dimples and All
They hadn't told anyone they were coming home, so naturally everyone was
waiting for them with a large sign that said 'Welcome Back Stiles and Derek'.
He couldn't help but smile as Scott broke formation and grabbed him in the
tightest hug he could muster. Isaac and Erica grinned at him, Peter looking
like he didn't want to be there, and Boyd nodded lightly. There was someone he
didn't recognize at first, but it turned out to be a very bleach blonde Danny.
He smiled at Stiles.
“You asshole! Three months, no texts or email... What the hell did you do in
London?” Stiles grinned, hugging Scott back just as tightly and nuzzling into
him with a sigh of contentment. Derek allowed the pack to come over and cuddle
up into him. Stiles shot his a glance and the alpha rolled his eyes.
“Well, apparently Jackson's pack doesn't believe in the internet... or
cellphone towers. Dude, we were like in log cabins and no one wore shirts. It
was like I was surrounded by Abercrombie and Fitch models the entire time. I
gained a six pack just to make friends.” Scott blinked, lifting the shirt and
gasping at the teen.
“You look amazing!” Derek growled at Scott who backed off a little, holding his
hands up in retreat. “Sorry! Forgot about the whole touching thing...”
Stiles rolled his eyes and motioned for them to continue walking. “No, he's
just on edge because until now he had me to himself. No one in Jackson's pack
wanted to even shake my hand. They were all afraid of Sourwolf.” Derek shot him
a look and sighed, curling his arm protectively around his waist.
“It's because you are an Alpha Mate.” Stiles shot him a look and rolled his
eyes.
“So is Lydia, but they had no problem serving her hand and foot.” Scott grinned
a little, grabbing Stiles' bags and directing Boyd to grab Derek's. Stiles let
out a huff and walked in the direction of the cars. “I thought this would be
fun, like... y'know. Sun, surf, Dr. who.., Sex...”
“Stiles, we were forming a treaty with a pack, not on vacation” Derek corrected
him, shoving the bags in the new SUV Derek had bought Stiles to replace Betty.
He would always love Betty, but Bridget was working on him.
“But still, we could have at least had the se--”
“If you shut up, we can have it when we get to the loft.” Derek said in a
hushed tone, letting a smooth grin cross his face. Stiles shut up immediately
and they finished packing the car.
Stiles was unpacking Derek's stuff into the large ornate dresser, wondering how
exactly life had ended up this way. He and Derek had been together nearly a
year now, and much to Stiles' surprise, it was an easy relationship.
They had basically just added sex to the relationship they had already formed
and talked a lot more. Stiles didn't mind any of it, even if Derek did get a
little territorial about everything. And he meant everything.
Something grabbed him around the waist and threw him to the bed, jumping on top
and straddling him. Two large hands held her wrists down and a mouth connected
with his, sending a surge of want through his body.
“Hello” Derek growled against his lips, biting down hard on his bottom lip.
Stiles arched up and whimpered into his lips, grinning.
“Hey yourself.” he murmured back, easily breaking free and sitting up to kiss
him slowly and tenderly. Derek rolled them over so Stiles was on top, grabbing
his face and pulled him on top of Derek, crashing their lips together. Stiles
pressed his crotch lightly against Derek's, chuckling against his lips and
pressing his body tightly to the alpha.
“I missed us being alone” Derek said softly, rocking up against the teenager
and holding his hips tightly with fingers. “And you naked. I missed you naked.”
immediately, Stiles' hand shot up to cup his chin and pull him closer. Derek's
eyes were red with lust as he leaned back, their lips never parting from each
other. Derek's lips opened up and Stiles' tongue lashed out into the parted
lips, ferocity building between them as they grabbed and held at each other's
arms and neck.
Derek swept up and bit down hard on Stiles' tender neck, making him yelp in
pleasure. The alpha growled as he moved to nuzzle the teen's neck as they
ground harder against each other. Stiles threw his head back, eyes rolling back
into his head as Derek began stripping him.
“Oh god, do you know how much I want you right now?” Stiles asked, as Derek
grabbed a pink nipple between his lips and bit down possessively. Stiles let
out a moan as they parted so Stiles could finish undressing. Stiles was
breathing heavily as Derek looked over him with a grin.
“Tell me.” his hands grabbed the now naked Stiles and tugged him back onto his
lap, their cocks brushing against each other. “Tell me how much you want me.”
he grabbed the lube from the bedside table, slicking a finger and teasing it at
Stiles' entrance. The teen shivered as the slik fingers teased his entrance.
“I can't think, can't breath, can't function...I keep thinking about how
perfectly you slide into me.” He shuddered as Derek finally slipped two fingers
into him. Stiles squirmed against his fingers, trying to wrestle Derek's shirt
off.
Derek growled and pulled his fingers out, ripping off his shirt and started to
unzip his jeans. Stiles could feel want swelling in his body as he removed
Derek's pants to reveal a slightly damp pair of silk boxers. With shaking
fingers, he began to slowly slide the thin fabric off of his swelling cock.
Stiles gasped as Derek slid his fingers back into him and breathed hot air into
his ear.
“Do you want my knot?” Derek asked, as Stiles slide his hand thought the thick
black hair. Brown eyes meeting wolf-red and shudders rack his body.
“Yes. Fuck, Derek I want you to take me. Own me, fucking claim me!” Derek
pulled Stiles up on top of him and slowly lowered the teen on to him. Stiles
opened his mouth in a silent scream as he felt Derek's length slide through his
defenses. His body morphed around the wolf's cock, as he gently began to rock
against it, body bouncing in time with his thrusts.
Slowly they picked up a rhythm and began to thrust and push harder than before,
the bed rocking fast. Stiles could feel his heart pounding against his chest as
Derek's cock grew deeper and stronger with every jab, the tip brushing inside
him and pounding mercilessly against the prostate.
“Oh god...Derek...” Stiles moaned, his cock aching to be touched by the wolf.
As if reading his mind, Derek's fingers wrapped around the bobbing length and
began stroking it in time.
“That's right...Scream my name, Stiles...” Derek huffed, his hands moving
faster against the cock.
“Derek....Oh, fuck Derek so fucking...” Stiles moaned loudly, Derek thrusting
up as his knot began to push entrance.
“Close, Stiles... going to knot you..” he shivered, slamming harder as Stiles
let out a final moan before coming over the wolf's hand. Derek took three more
thrusts before his knot swelled and he came. Stiles gripped the wolf's hair
tighter, rocking up and milking his cock for everything he could.
They sat there, panting with their sweaty foreheads pressed together as sloppy
kisses were exchanged. Stiles closed his eyes, breathing in the scent of Derek
and sex. It was intoxicating.
“Stiles.” Derek said after a while, the teen opening his eyes to look the wolf
in the face. Derek was soft, a small smile pressed to his lips as he kissed
Stiles. The teen was too tired to argue about anything, enjoying the attention
from his mate.
“Stiles, I have a serious question.” Derek asked, making Stiles pout slightly
as he rolled his eyes.
“Fine, what is it?” Derek hesitated for a second, before leaning in and nipping
his ear lobe.
“Do you like sex with me better in my body or yours?”  
Chapter End Notes
     Thanks for reading and commenting! Hope you'll look for my work in
     the future!
     -Hediren <3
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