Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/1870902.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Teen_Wolf_(TV)
  Relationship:
      Derek_Hale/Stiles_Stilinski
  Character:
      Isaac_Lahey, Scott_McCall, Stiles_Stilinski, Derek_Hale
  Additional Tags:
      Extremely_Dubious_Consent, Manipulation, Alpha_Derek, Hand_Jobs, underage
      element_emphasised, set_season_1-2_ish, lalala_what_is_canon, Derek_is_a
      creeper, Sorry_Not_Sorry
  Series:
      Part 1 of Wait
  Stats:
      Published: 2014-06-30 Words: 1754
****** Wait 1 ******
by Prairie_Grass
Summary
     The thing about Stiles, was that he was so fucking eager to please.
Notes
     This fic is a teeny wee thank you to all the lovely people who have
     left me comments and messages in the last few weeks which have made
     me go *\o/* and helped me get through what otherwise has been a
     pretty rough time in the real world. So thanks! (It's also not beta'd
     and written at 2am, so it might not be the BEST 'thank you' but W/E I
     DO WHAT I WANT!) Additional Note: updated Sep 2014 to fix timeline
     issue.
     Additional warnings: I have tagged this as dub-con, but it is pretty
     freaking close to the non-con line. As in if this was the real world
     this would totally be over the non-con line because Derek is actively
     manipulating Stiles and Stiles does not actually give consent. But I
     didn’t feel like in this fictional world it was quite over that line
     sooo. There you go. There's also a hint of grooming depending on how
     you tilt your head, so if that's a trigger you should probably pass
     on this. Otherwise, enjoy! ^_^;;;
The thing about Stiles, was that he was so fucking eager to please.
He was like a ripe fruit. All the best ingredients. Overly-intelligent child
with attention-span issues, single busy parent, few friends, dead mother,
teachers who despised him despite his smarts because he couldn’t sit still and
was too quick to snark back in class.
It didn’t take much.
It started mostly by itself, with just a hell of a lot of eye contact. Stiles
could hold a stare like most people couldn’t. Derek could hear Stiles’ heart
pounding with fear when he stared him down, but he just hitched his chin up
further and kept meeting Derek’s eyes, full of challenge. It was the first
thing that made Derek take notice of the kid, actually. It was a delicious
blend. Everything about him screamed the kind of prey that Derek wanted beneath
his teeth, but if he wasn’t clever and quick enough, might end up gutting him
if he tried.
It was addictive; and as Stiles got more used to him – used to Derek being in
his room, in his car, in his school – the fear slowly started to recede. Until
instead of the sharp tang of terror, Stiles smelled of a lightning edge of
thrill whenever Derek looked at him. Stiles liked being noticed. He liked that
someone was looking at him.
Which was convenient, because Derek liked to look.
After that it was easy enough to include touch. Derek had always been a
physical guy, so it was easy to put his hands all over Stiles, to push and
shove at first, but then a protective hand, a restraining arm, a comforting
squeeze. Stiles was a lonely kid, he practically had ‘affection starved’
written across his forehead. And as Scott started to spend more time with
Allison, he left a gaping hole which Derek was more than happy to start to
fill.
“They’ve been gone for hours. What if something’s happened?”
“I’m sure it’s fine, Stiles,” Scott said distractedly, beaming at his phone
where he was exchanging yet another text message with his girlfriend.
Derek placed a hand on the back of Stiles’ neck. “Lydia’s not in any danger,
she’ll be in public the whole time. If she hasn’t called in another thirty
minutes we’ll text her, okay?” He rubbed his thumb back and forth on Stiles’
nape and the boy slowly relaxed, some of the tension draining out of his
shoulders. He looked up at Derek, already more trusting than he should be.
“Okay.”
Derek smiled. It was a while before he moved his hand away.
 
After Derek became the Alpha it only became worse. Much worse. After he slit
his Uncle’s throat, he would wake up in the mornings with a raging boner and a
burning hunger for getting someone under him. Even several consecutive hours of
jerking off wouldn’t help – getting distracted while making breakfast, and
doing the laundry, and working out, to rut against the furniture or his hand
until his knot swelled and he spilled recklessly. He knew who he wanted wrapped
around that knot, and ‘too young’ didn’t seem relevant.
The months passed, and it didn’t get better, even after his pack had grown by
several (problematic) teenagers. If anything the craving had just gotten worse.
He just wanted to stick his dick into something (someone) and have them whine
until he came. He wouldn’t fuck his pack, but he needed to do something about
it.
Out for a run one day, trying to escape the incessant grinding need, he somehow
found himself passing by the back of the Stilinski property. Both the Sheriff
and his son were downstairs watching television, but Stiles’ window was open.
It only took a moment for Derek to silently swing up into the boy’s room.
Derek dragged in a heavy breath as he landed. The room was thick with boy-
smell. With Stiles smell. Derek slinked onto the bed and shoved his face into
Stiles’ pillow, pulling in the scent of him. His shift crawled over his bones
and he rubbed against the pillowcase, letting his scent penetrate into the
fabric.
One ear out for the sounds of the humans below, Derek opened up his fly and
pulled his dick out. Despite the excessive number of times he’d already jerked
it that day, the scent of human boy, and one his brain recognised as something
vaguely pack-like, something vaguely his, was more than enough to have him
spurting against the mattress, his knot tender and hot beneath his fingers. He
groaned, pulling his hand away and letting himself hump against the sheets.
Smearing his come everywhere.
Afterwards, Derek spread out his jizz through the sheets and pulled up the
blankets before silently slipping back out the way he came.
The next day, Stiles still smelled faintly of him. It made Derek’s fangs itch
and his lips spread open into an uncontrollable grin. Even his pack seemed to
subconsciously notice. Deferring to their Alpha’s mate in small ways, handing
over food without being asked, clustering protectively around him, giving him
the best seat on the couch…The best of them all was Scott, usually prickly and
defensive even on the best of days, now he was minutely giving Derek the
respect an Alpha should have, tiny bends of his neck, showing Derek his back,
listening when Derek spoke. The boys really hadn’t been lying when they said
they were a package deal, and now that Stiles was displaying the signs of being
claimed, (whether he knew it or not) Scott was accepting whoever Stiles had
chosen to be his Alpha.
Derek could practically howl with delight.
That night he couldn’t hold back anymore, he pressed Stiles against the counter
in his kitchen where the boy had been doing the dishes, took the plate from his
startled hands and turned him, leant in and kissed him.
Stiles made a noise like a small bird, and Derek nipped at his lips until he
opened them, letting Derek’s tongue invade that wet mouth which had been
haunting his dreams.
Stiles’ hands fluttered, nervous and confused against Derek’s chest as he
tentatively started to respond to Derek’s kiss, Derek hid a smile and pushed
his thigh between Stiles’, starting up a slow but persistent rhythm.
“Mmph!” Stiles squawked against Derek’s mouth, “Derek, what—”
Derek pulled away just enough that he could look at Stiles’ face – flushed
skin, lust-darkened eyes and red, bruised mouth. He leant in harder against
Stiles’ cock where it was chubbing up in his pants. “Feels great, doesn’t it?”
Derek whispered. Stiles just made a high-pitched, confused sort of noise and
Derek smiled, leaning in to mouth at the edge of Stiles’ jaw. “Fuck you taste
good,” he growled.
Mindful of the TV providing useful cover-noise in the next room, Derek snuck
his hand down the front of Stiles’ pants. Stiles yelped and Derek covered his
mouth with his own lips again, driving his tongue into that wet heat. Stiles’
cock was long, silken and slender under Derek’s fingers, and it didn’t take
more than a few strokes to get pre-come beading at the tip, Stiles hips making
little reluctant jerks up into Derek. Derek moaned and yanked his hand out of
Stiles’ pants for as long as it took him to whip down his own zipper and pull
out his dick, lining up both of their cocks and tugging on them roughly,
letting the copious amount of his own precome mix with Stiles’, getting both of
them messy, joining their scents. Derek could smell Stiles’ arousal kick up,
and the boy broke away from Derek’s mouth to look down at where both of their
cocks were fucking up into Derek’s fist. Stiles brought a shaking hand down,
and as his thumb brushed the head of Derek’s dick Derek muffled a curse and bit
down on the lobe of Stiles’ ear. Stiles swore and his dick throbbed and he
came, shooting jizz up Derek’s t-shirt and over his hand. It was more than
enough for Derek to shove his hips hard into Stiles and come himself, groaning
as his seed spilled all over his mate.
Derek rested his head against Stiles’ shoulder, letting his breath waft against
Stiles’ neck as he came down from his orgasm. He could hear Stiles’ heart start
to tick up faster and faster so he wrapped his clean hand gently around Stiles’
throat, leaning up to meet his confused eyes. “Hey,” he said softly, “It’s
okay.” He kissed Stiles again, gently, and Stiles’ lips followed his, one beat
behind and automatic.
“Derek,” Stiles said as they broke apart, “what—”
“Holy shit, guys, get a room!”
Stiles leapt nearly a foot in the air as Isaac came into the kitchen.
Derek leant in closer to Stiles so that the boy’s naked junk wouldn’t be
visible. “It’s my house, Isaac, they’re all my rooms.”
Isaac huffed and rolled his eyes, grabbing another soda from the fridge, all of
two feet away from where Derek had Stiles pinned.
“Isaac, do you mind!?” Stiles squeaked.
“Oh do I mind? You’re the ones getting your freak on in the middle of the
kitchen, but do Imind?” He scoffed and left the room, calling back, “You guys
damn well better not clean up in the sink!”
Derek smirked and moved to rinse his hands under the faucet, just because he
was an asshole like that sometimes.
When he turned back Stiles still had this gobsmacked sort of look on his face,
and Derek let out a soft laugh. He took Stiles by the shoulders and directed
him out the door. “Come on, they’re just starting the original Godzilla.”
Once out in the other room, Derek pushed Stiles down to sit next to Scott, then
sat down on his other side. He watched from the corner of his eye as Scott gave
Stiles a startled look, then his mouth slipped into a smirk. Scott whispered
under the sound of the TV, “Congrats bro!”
Stiles looked like he wasn’t sure what expression to make with his face.
“...Um, thanks?”
Derek smiled. He put his arm over Stiles’ shoulders and tugged him in closer to
his side.
Across the room Lydia raised an eyebrow, and Erica shook her head, before both
of them turned back to the movie.
It took a long time for Stiles to relax, but Derek was patient. He could wait.
 
--
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