Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/2645492.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      No_Archive_Warnings_Apply, Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Thor_(Movies)
  Relationship:
      Loki/Thor
  Character:
      Loki_(Marvel), Thor_(Marvel)
  Additional Tags:
      Plot_What_Plot/Porn_Without_Plot, Alternate_Universe_-_High_School,
      bottom!Thor, Soft_Nerd!Thor, Hipster!Loki, Implied/Referenced_Drug_Use
  Stats:
      Published: 2014-11-21 Words: 4728
****** why'd you only call me when you're high? ******
by sexualthorientation_(sexyscholar)
Summary
     Prompt: Nerd Thor gets a bad mark on a test. It's never happened
     before, but Loki was fucking him hard the night before and all Thor
     could think of was how much his ass hurt and how he couldn't wait to
     do it again. He has a full scale melt down and pouts for days.
Notes
     So, soft nerd!Thor x edgy!Loki has become a thing on my Tumblr. It's
     been plaguing my mind for the longest time, so I finally tried to
     write it.
     I blame a head cold, NyQuil, Arctic Monkeys, and Goose for this
     shlock.
     This is dedicated to Goose.
     (Unbeta'd and written on my phone -- I tried to clean up my mistakes,
     but if you spot something, please let me know.
     Also, comments and concrit are life to me. Don't be shy. <3)
See the end of the work for more notes
It takes a good few minutes for Thor to recognize that the chirpy little noise
he keeps hearing is not in a dream, but in fact, coming from his phone.
Bleary-eyed with drool smeared against his cheek, he twists his heavy-feeling
head toward the nightstand. When a few exaggerated blinks don't reveal the time
displayed in glowing red squiggles on his alarm clock, Thor fumbles for his
glasses for a second before shoving them on his face.
2:14 AM
People don't call at two in the morning unless something has gone horribly
wrong. He sits up in bed, picks up his phone, and taps the screen to check his
incoming messages. Six new texts and three missed calls.
All from Loki.
Thor's stomach drops. His skin chills and sweats at the same time, and when the
phone suddenly buzzes and chirps to life in his palm, Thor jumps.
loki calling
He jams his thumb on the answer button harder than he really needs to. He
doesn't bother with 'hello.' "Loki, is that you? What's wrong?"
"Finally," Loki's voice slides in from the other end of the phone. "God, I've
been calling you for-fucking-ever. What took you so long?"
Loki sounds dazed and a little dopey, but otherwise seems...normal. "I was
sleeping," he answers. What else would I be doing? he doesn't say. "Are you
alright?"
"Oh, I'm fiiiine," he says, quickly followed by a giggle.
"A-are you drunk?"
"High," he corrects. "Darcy brought over special brownies."
"Why are you with Darcy at two in the morning," Thor snaps before he can think
better of it. He cuts over Loki's because she doesn't go to bed at eight-thirty
like some people, and says, "So, there's nothing wrong. You're actually fine. I
was--goddammit, Loki--"
On the other end of the line, Loki has stopped nagging. "...Were you worried
about me?"
Thor stammers; he didn't think Loki was actually listening. "I--you left nine
messages, Loki! Nine. People don't do that unless there's some emergency. Not
sane people, anyway."
Loki laughs again. "You were worried about me. Aw, that's so fucking cute.
Here, let me make it right," he says, his voice low and softer. "Why don't you
get on Skype, and I'll show you how fine I am?"
Thor blushes immediately. The last time they 'skyped,' he'd let Loki talk him
through using his fingers to stimulate his own prostate, seeing him to the end
with encouraging words and even more encouraging video of him stroking himself
in time with Thor's probing digits. The climax that followed -- once he'd
gotten the hang of it and finally took Loki's advice to stop being so uptight
and just let go -- had taken him by surprise: he hadn't laid a finger on his
cock, but it that didn't stop it from pumping out hot streaks of cum that arced
backward and landed on his heaving chest in long splatters.
So it's not so crazy that he actually considers Loki's idea for a second. Loki
sounds warm and husky and full of promise over the phone, and his body is
beginning to respond. Like a salivating dog to the ring of the dinner bell,
Thor's prick is up and hungry.
"Let's play a game," Loki tells him. His voice abruptly sounds hollow and
farther away, like he's switched over to speakerphone. "Guess what I'm doing
right...now." Thor can hear the dull metallic purr of a zipper being pulled,
and then a pause, quickly followed by a shuddering breath. "Mmm, can you guess,
Thor?"
Thor gnaws at his bottom lip as the needy little whines coming from the phone
make his dick twitch. He doesn't have to guess what he's doing -- he knows, and
his underwear are getting rather snug as he conjures a mental picture of Loki
masturbating for him. Thor quickly crosses his legs.
"No," he finally says, firmly. "You're high, you woke me up, and I've got a
calculus exam tomorrow; I'm hanging up now."
Thor takes the phone from his ear -- he can hear Loki's tinny, plaintive aw,
don't be mad, Thor on the other end as he disconnects.
He waits a long moment, half-expecting Loki to call again. When he doesn't,
Thor switches over to his messages - because he can't just leave six texts
sitting there bold and unread - and opens up the conversation with Loki--
you up?
hey thor
thooor
im so hard
thor come on
wanna fuck you
The heated flush in Thor’s face moves down his neck to bloom across his chest
as he reads the string of messages over and over. He sets the phone back on the
nightstand and looks down at his crotch. "He sends a few dirty texts, and
you're reduced to this?"
When his erection stirs again, gently shifting the flannel covering it, Thor
reckons he has his answer. He sighs.
It would be so easy to slip his hand into his pajamas and work himself over.
Loki's texts are enough to get him going on their own, but coupled with the
memory of their Skype session, fresh and hot in his mind... he could just...
He shakes his head quickly, setting his hands down on either side of him and
rubbing his palms on the nubby sheets. He scoots himself back into bed, turns
onto his stomach, slides both arms beneath his pillow, far enough away to do
anything stimulating, and wills his hard-on to go away. He knows it's probably
just an exercise in wishful thinking, but it certainly can't hurt (any more
than this cock digging into his mattress does, at least) to give it a try.
~
Thor is juggled out of his light doze when the new sound finally starts to
filter through, his body feeling tingly-weird and not quite solid. He groans
and covers his head with a spare pillow, but it doesn't do much good; it's hot
and hard to breathe under there, and it doesn't block out the horrible yowling
outside his window.
Thor pulls himself out of bed, gets his glasses again, and stumbles over to the
blinds, twisting the baton to peel them open. He's expecting a cat, or some
other nocturnal critter, maybe perched on one of the high branches of the
enormous oak tree that sits outside his house, but -- it's Loki. Gorgeous,
pale, high Loki - standing under the porchlight. He grins up at Thor, then
opens his mouth and...
...meows.
"You've got to be kidding," Thor says to himself.
Loki, standing down below, certainly doesn't appear to be kidding -- he yowls
again, long and loud, and Thor raises the pane of glass.
"Loki," he stage whispers, leaning out the window. "Are you trying to wake up
the whole house?"
His answer is another yowl - unbelievably, louder than the ones preceding it -
and Thor pinches the bridge of his nose. There's only one thing for it, he
knows.
He tiptoes out of his room and makes his way downstairs.
~
Loki is flushed pink and smiling toothily when Thor opens the door. He's
leaning against the door frame, looking relaxed and impossibly long, and Thor
swallows hard as he gets a good view of him. He's dressed in tight black jeans
and flimsy white t-shirt with a too-loose neck: it hangs to the side, showing
off a sliver of creamy skin and sculpted collarbone. There are greyish circles
at the armpits (it's unseasonably warm for October, and Loki sweats).
"Took you long enough," he says, crossing the threshold without bothering to
wait for Thor's official invitation. Jade green eyes trail down, then back up
Thor's body, and Loki grins again, looking pleased. "Fuck, you look good enough
to eat."
Thor doesn't have a chance to answer before Loki's mouth is on his. He tastes
chocolatey, and faintly herbal.
Thor's never tried marijuana, but he knows kids at school smoke (and he's
pretty sure his mom and dad still do sometimes), so he knows how it smells -
and by extension - sort of, how it tastes. He doesn't particularly like it, but
he very much likes Loki kissing him like this, all sloppy and rushed and
breathing so hard it fogs his glasses.
It isn't until Loki's turned them so Thor's back is to the wall, his lean thigh
is wedged between Thor's meatier ones, and he's got one hand fiddling with the
drawstring of his pajama bottoms that it dawns on Thor that he's supposed to be
mad, dammit.
"You woke me up twice tonight, Loki," he tells him, shoving him back.
When Loki doesn't react aside from a couple of owlish blinks, Thor angrily
holds up two fingers to Loki's face. "Twice!"
It backfires when Loki merely leans forward and licks the web of skin
connecting his fingers. His tongue is pink and perfect against Thor's skin and
he shudders as Loki's mouth slides up, wraps his lips around both fingers and
sucks back down. After licking the digits for what feels like an eternity, he
pulls off with a hollow pop. "Let's fuck."
"Loki--"
"You're so hard, Thor. I bet your ass is practically twitching for my dick
right now," Loki says, too loudly for Thor's comfort.
He clamps a big hand over Loki's mouth and yips when he feels Loki lick his
palm with the broad flat of his tongue before bursting into a peal of giggles.
"Admit it," Loki orders, a wolfish smile on his pretty mouth. "You want it up
your ass so bad, don't you?"
Thor scrubs his hand down his face, quickly forgetting that Loki's gummy spit
is still on his palm. He makes a face, and Loki laughs again. "Yes, okay? I do.
But I've got an exam tomorrow, and my parents are sleeping. I can't--"
Loki presses a finger to Thor's lips, shushing him. He won't give up that
easily. He never does.
"You'll ace it, like you do every-other-fucking-thing, and as for your parents,
well." Loki dips his hand into the waistband of Thor's pajamas again, this time
passing the knotted ties and going into the front of his (very damp and
presently? too-tight) underwear. "We'll just have to make a concerted effort to
be quiet, won't we?"
He curls his long fingers around Thor's length and squeezes gently. Thor makes
a strangled sound at the back of his throat and hunches forward. "Fuck," he
says softly, against the blond hair that's slipped into his face.
Loki dips down a little, under the fall of hair, then comes back in close to
give Thor a surprisingly chaste kiss on his lips. "So...are we gonna fuck or
what?" The hand in Thor's underwear strokes his cock just so and it's so good
that it has Thor seeing double for a second.
He never had a chance, and he knows it.
"Upstairs," he says.
~
Once they're in Thor's room (with his fancy new privacy lock on the door), Loki
wastes no time getting out of his clothes - not that he was wearing very many.
The damp white shirt, super skinny black jeans, and worn grey sneakers are in a
small heap on the floor. He hasn't bothered with underwear.
He climbs up on to Thor's bed and kneels, cock in hand, stroking it hard and
wringing the head to force a few beads of slick from the tip. Loki is long and
lean and pale, and the moonlight filtering through the window makes him look a
little like the wood nymphs Thor's read about in mythology books.
He doesn't say any of that to Loki, though.
Instead, Thor kneels up on the bed with him and slinks an arm around his narrow
waist to pull him flush for a kiss. It starts with a simple slide and mash of
lips, but quickly gives way to something wilder: Loki slides his hand along the
nape of Thor's neck and pulls, biting and licking his way into his mouth.
Thor's free hand goes to the newly shaved side of Loki's head, thumb brushing
against the bristling hair. He likes the new look, especially the way it
highlights Loki's sharp cheekbones, but he misses the feeling of all of it (as
opposed to the half that's left of it) sliding like cool black silk through his
fingers.
He breaks away from Loki's mouth - a string of saliva glistens between them for
a second before it snaps - and then dips south to the silver ring that runs
through Loki's left nipple. It seems like it should hurt -- the soft, fleshy,
peach-brown nub is swollen and tender-looking, but when Thor slides the tip of
his tongue through the circle and tugs, Loki bucks deliciously against his body
and hisses out his pleasure, curling his fingers deep into Thor's hair. His
other hand is still on his cock, stroking through the heated exchange. More
than once, the head of his cock bumps up against Thor's flanneled thigh.
"Get naked, " Loki says, looking up and tossing the one half of his long black
hair off of his shoulder. "Slow; I wanna watch."
Thor nods, privately delighting in the tiny shiver that ripples through him at
the request. He moves backward until he's off the bed and stands facing Loki.
He starts with his t-shirt, pulling it over his head and folding it in half
before he hangs it over his desk chair.
He flexes a little, taking in a deep breath and broadening his big chest for
Loki's benefit. Thor works out, but never very hard - he's been blessed with
good genes and high metabolism. (One of Coach Tyr's greatest sorrows is that
Thor has the body of a linebacker and the coordination of a duck in wooden
shoes, which is to say, none at all.)
Loki does seem pleased with the display, if the way he licks his lips and
strokes himself a little faster is any indication. "Keep going," he says.
Which Thor was totally going to do anyway, but he likes it when Loki tells him
to.
The pajama pants come down next, showing off hard, muscled thighs. He steps out
of them, and handles them as he did the shirt - fold, then hang.
Loki's eyes rake down his body, then stop somewhere around his legs. "Huh."
It's not the reaction Thor's expecting. "What?"
"You're wearing knee socks."
Thor looks down and, sure enough, he'd forgotten to take the off before he went
to sleep. He does it all the time, but now that Loki's looking at them and
grinning like they're the silliest things he's ever seen, Thor's starting to
feel more than a little self-conscious about them.
"Huh, yeah," he says, trying for humor. "I don't even know why I wear them -
they're kinda dumb." Thor's rambling and he knows it, but he's suddenly nervous
because it's just one more reminder that Loki is cool and he is not. He bends
down to take them off
"Keep them on."
Thor looks up, confused. "Why?"
Loki bites his lower lip and shrugs. "I like them; they're kinda hot. Please?"
It's not often that he gets a 'please' out of Loki. Thor doesn't touch the
socks.
He does, however, touch his red boxer briefs and ease the waistband down past
his hips. Then a little more, revealing the start of a light brown vee of pubic
hair.
"Lower," Loki says, setting one hand in the bed and leaning forward. "Show me."
Thor swallows and then pushes the underwear past his cock, which bobs up and
out almost immediately. He can barely hear Loki's 'oh fuck yes' over the rush
of blood around his ears.
He carefully steps out of the underwear and, unlike his other clothes, tosses
them into his laundry hamper. They're all but ruined, anyway.
When he looks back, Loki has stopped stroking himself in favor of crawling down
the length of the bed. He gets to the edge, ducks his head a little, and takes
Thor's cock into his mouth in one smooth swallow. Thor has to bite the heel of
his hand to keep from screaming.
To say that he's kind of good at this is like saying Stephen Hawking is 'kind
of good' at physics. Loki is a dick-sucking genius, flicking his tongue this
way and that, hollowing his cheeks and humming as his lips slide up and down
the shaft.
Loki braces himself with one arm and slides his free hand between Thor's
thighs, running his damp fingers over Thor's balls and rolling them gently for
a moment before slipping one finger farther back and between his ass cheeks. He
doesn't push in, simply the rubbing the pad of the probing digit against Thor's
tightly furled hole, but it's enough to get Thor to shift and spread his legs a
little.
Loki pulls off Thor's prick. "Lube?"
"I-in the usual place."
He slides back up the bed and pulls open the drawer to Thor's nightstand. The
bottle of lube rolls to the front and Loki scoops it out. He squirts a good
amount on his fingers, coating them in the slippery stuff, and comes back to
Thor. He retakes his position, sucking Thor's cock into his greedy mouth while
he works one of his slicked fingers up into Thor's ass.
The sensation is so good, and hits him so suddenly, that the wind is knocked
out of Thor. He lets a long breath out, then a shorter, shuddering one back in.
"Oh, Loki. God."
Loki laughs, or something a lot like it -- Thor can feel the quick huffs of air
skim over the base of his cock, and then pushes in a second finger.
Thor has to grip the back of the desk chair to keep from falling over. His legs
are spread wider now, bending slightly at the knees to try to take Loki's
fingers deeper. He realizes, dimly, that he's standing on his tiptoes a little
- there's some muscle tension in his calves, but the angle that Loki's fingers
are hitting is too sweet to stop now.
"You ready," Loki asks when he comes up for air again. "You sound ready."
"Yes," answers Thor. "I'm ready, Loki, fuck me..."
Loki pulls his fingers free, and Thor whines softly. "You're getting so much
better at articulating what you want, Thor. I'm proud of you. Turn around, put
your hands on the desk."
Thor doesn't hesitate; he spins around, nearly losing his balance when he
knocks into the chair, but manages to catch himself before he falls. He can
hear Loki in the nightstand drawer again, rummaging. If he saw Thor's less than
graceful turn, he doesn't say anything about it.
The next thing he hears is a rip of foil, and the funny little peeling sound of
plastic. The bottle of lube squirts again, and then the unmistakable slap of
skin on wet latex.
Thor jerks when he feels the hot press of lips to the spot between his shoulder
blades, followed by a questing tongue moving down his spine. Loki's little
voyage down Thor's broad back ends with a good, meaty bite on his right
buttock. He does an admirable job of not yelling out loud.
Loki stands behind him, one hand gripping into his hip while the other slides
his now-sheathed cock between Thor's cheeks. "Spread your legs wider for me,"
he tells him.
Thor does, and Loki pushes the wide head of his cock to Thor's hole. He doesn't
go in - he just keeps pressing like that, and it's enough to drive Thor a
little bit insane. "Fuck me," he grits out.
"Ooh, I like it when you get all demand-y, Thor."
"Don't patronize me, Loki -- you got me all... like this, now come on an--agh!"
Loki shoves in all at once, and Thor sinks down to the desk, breathless. The
burn is incredible -- Thor sees nothing but red and violet and blue for a few
seconds as he adjusts. To his credit, Loki holds still, simply running his
hands in smooth, soothing circles over his back.
"Okay," Thor says, nodding. "I'm good. You can move."
He probably isn't as ready as he should be, but he wants to be fucked so deeply
that he's willing to fake it a little. And he gets his wish -- Loki starts to
move, and the burn picks up again, unbearable and amazing all at once. Thor
grips the edge of the desk for dear life, biting his lips to try to hold in the
tiny whimpers that just won't stay put.
Loki must sense that something is off; he slows mid-slide and squirts more lube
directly onto Thor's stretched hole, easing out a little more, and then back
in. Thor can feel the lube sliding into his ass, making the whole business so
much easier, and Thor finally begins to feel comfortable enough to bear down as
Loki pushes in.
"Oh, oh god," Thor whispers.
Loki leans down, pressing his chest to Thor's back. "Fuck, you feel so perfect,
Thor. You were made for this."
As raw pleasure snakes up his spine, and under and into a coil in the pit of
his stomach, Thor is inclined to agree. He's never known anything like this -
Loki fucking him out of his busy head, hard and hot. It feels like this is the
way it's supposed to be and, in this moment, he's going to take everything that
Loki can give.
"Do it harder, Loki," he whispers. "Make me come."
Loki growls against Thor's shoulder. "Lie down on the desk, all the way." When
he does, Loki pins Thor's arms behind his back and uses his wrists as handles
to pull Thor back against him, and fucks.
Thor tries to be quiet, he really does. But Loki is going hard now, so hard
that his glasses finally slip off the sweaty bridge of Thor's nose and land on
the desk with a clack. His own prick is nudging against the underside of his
desk, and that's probably going to hurt like hell later, but for now it's
fucking brilliant.
Loki is panting above him, thrusting up hard into Thor and hitting that spot
that makes Thor want to fly apart and be put back together, only to be broken
apart again.
He's so close now; his skin is prickling everywhere and the coil in his belly
is about to snap. Thor thinks that if his parents haven't already figured out
what going on in there, they're about to get an earful, because Thor doesn't
think he's going to be able to not scream.
"Loki," Thor says, "I'm so close -- make me come. Please." He thinks he might
be crying a little. He's way past caring.
"God, Thor. I wish you could see yourself -- you take my cock so good."
Well, Thor thinks. I take your cock so well.
He's going to let that one go, though. Thor can pick his battles, and now is
not the time, because--
"Oh fuck, Loki," he gasps. "I'm--!"
But the word never makes it past his lips; Loki apparently has just enough
presence of mind to let go of one of Thor's wrists and clamp a hand over Thor's
panting mouth. Thor screams out his climax directly into Loki's palm, him cock
pumping out hard streams of cum that seem to go on forever...
...and all over the floor. How do you get cum out of berber?, he wonders idly.
He'll have to research that.
Once the strongest part of his orgasm passes, Thor gives Loki's palm a lick of
his own.
Loki seems to like it, though. He lets out a long, low moan, gives three more
good, hard thrusts, and then Thor can feel him coming deep inside. The condom
swells with its heavy payload.
After they've both come down, and Loki's tied off his rubber and trashed it,
Thor gathers Loki up into his arms and plops him on the bed. He snuggles in
close, his chest to Loki's back, and is pleasantly surprised that Loki allows
it.
"How's your ass," Loki asks.
Thor laughs softly. "Sore. It's gonna hurt like hell tomorrow."
"Yeah, well it should. I fucked you good. "
Okay, so maybe he can't let it go.
"Well."
Loki turns over a little to face him." Well what?"
"You fucked me well."
Loki's mouth thins. Then after a long moment, he says, "Shut up, nerd."
But he's laughing, so Thor does, too.
~
During math period, Thor stares blankly at his calculus test. He knows this
stuff, he does, but he can't concentrate on it for most than a few minutes at a
time.
What he is concentrating on instead, is how much his ass hurts. Thor can't sit
still, and he's squelched so much hemorrhoid cream in there that he's
legitimately concerned about it leaking out and making a mess.
The thought of leaking and mess leads him right back to the night (well, early
morning) before, to Loki's cock, to how good it felt to take it hard and deep.
Within seconds, he's hard again and desperate to be fucked. He's meeting Loki
at the coffee shop later, maybe they could sneak away--
"Pencils down," Mr. Heimdall declares from the front of the classroom.
Thor shakes himself back to reality and looks down at his test paper; there’s a
distressing amount of blank space. He comes up with at least four mostly
plausible excuses as to why he needs a retest. In the end, though, he can't
bring himself to try any of them. He simply lets the teacher pick up his test
as he walks by and doesn't look at him for the rest of the period.
At the end of the day, the teacher stops by his locker.
"Thor, could you stay behind for a few minutes? I'd like to talk to you about
your test."
Thor nods and looks at his own shoes. He still can't bring himself to look Mr.
Heimdall in the face.
~
A sixty-eight.
A sixty-eight.
Thor glares at the test in his hand. The number is penned in blue ink, tucked
innocently in the upper right corner, but it might as well be streaked across
the entire page in thick, bright red.
Thor's never gotten a grade lower than eighty-five. In anything. Appropriately,
he's completely distraught about it and in a full pout when Loki slides in on
the other side of the booth.
"Hey sexy," he says. When Thor doesn't respond, Loki pokes him in the arm.
"What's wrong?"
"Everything," Thor moans, flipping over his test results to show Loki.
Loki shrugs. "What about it?"
Thor is incredulous. "Look at my grade, Loki!"
His eyes follow to the corner of the page. "So? You passed, right?"
"That's not the point!"
"Then what is the point?"
Thor adjusts his glasses and takes a deep breath - not that it helps. "This is
a D, Loki. I have never gotten a D in my life."
Loki's eyes widen and the side of his mouth twitches. "I don't know about that,
Thor. You seemed to take mine pretty well last night."
Thor looks at him, perplexed, and it's not until Loki nearly falls off of his
seat that he realizes what he's said. His cheeks pink immediately.
"That's not what I meant," he argues over Loki's snickering. "And it was
your…that that got me into to this mess!" He looks around the coffee shop to
see if anyone is watching them. "I was so sore from last night," he says,
quietly, "that I couldn't concentrate."
"I only did what you asked," Loki says cheerfully before dipping an end of his
biscotti into his cup of coffee and then making a show of sucking on it. Thor's
cock stirs without his permission. He really is like Pavlov's dog, and Loki
loves ringing that bell. "Just ask for a retest. They'll give it to you; they
love you."
Thor sighs. "Mr. Heimdall said he would. But just the fact that I even have to
take a retest..."
Loki rolls his eyes. "Tell you what -- we'll go to my house, and I’ll give you
a practice test.” He leans in close. “And incentives.”
Thor smiles, in spite of himself. "What kind of incentives?"
"I'll pat you on the head and tell you what a smart boy you are while you suck
my dick. Sound good?"
Yes, Thor thinks. That sounds very good, indeed.
End Notes
     Title comes from the Arctic Monkeys' song_of_the_same_name. :)
Please drop_by_the_archive_and_comment to let the author know if you enjoyed
their work!
iles was too blissed out to even remember why he had
been so annoyed with Derek in the first place.
“Let me do…something…” Stiles said, reaching out to unbuckle Derek’s belt but
the wolf immediately pushed his hands away.
“Don’t have to,” Derek murmured, averting his gaze.
“I want to,” Stiles said, still cheerful and drowsy. He kissed Derek’s cheek
and tried to kiss his mouth but Derek stepped back all together.
“What’s wrong?” Stiles asked.
“I have to go,” Derek responded like it was the most normal thing in the world.
“Are you serious?” Stiles didn’t get it. Didn’t get any of it. Why was Derek
doing this to him? Again?
“So, you can touch me, but I can’t touch you. Is that how this is going to be?”
“Stiles -”
“No, whatever. I just don’t understand why you want to touch me in the first
place if I’m that foul.”
“You’re not -”
“Goodnight,” Stiles said firmly before getting into his jeep and leaving Derek
alone in the parking lot.
***** Shoot it up straight to the heart *****
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes
As Stiles listened to Scott lovingly going on and on about Allison he wondered
why he couldn’t have something like that.
Why did Stiles have to be attracted to incredibly good looking people that
would either ignore his existence, (aka Lydia) or confuse the hell out of him
and then proceed to ignore his existence (aka Derek.)
Stiles took a fresh shirt out of his locker and proceeded to change.
“It all seems to be okay now, between me and Allison…” Scott trailed off.
“So, what’s the problem?” Stiles sighed trying to occupy himself with anything
other than thoughts of Derek going down on him in a parking lot.
“Well, with Isaac missing, Allison’s grandfather, all this stuff happening with
Derek…”
Tell me about it,Stiles thought.
“I should be focusing on all of that but, she’s all I can think about. She just
makes me feel, like, I don’t know how to describe it… She makes me happy, but
more than that, you know?” Scott continued and Stiles rolled his eyes, leaning
back against the lockers in the changing room.
Stiles didn’t know. Because when he had taken of the other night, it wasn’t
happiness that he had felt.
Derek made him feel… Used. Not entirely the right word for it. But it was the
closest one that described his situation. Derek made him feel used and Stiles
liked it.
He wanted to be used by Derek so badly, that it sometimes frightened him to
which extend. All Stiles had ever wanted was to be wanted by someone, to be
desired and needed.
Ever since his mom passed away, it had been just the two of them, his dad and
Stiles. And luckily Scott.
But that was then and now, no one made Stiles feel relevantanymore; they were
all too busy with their own stuff.
And Derek knew that. He knew that it wouldn’t take much to bend Stiles to his
will, that he was desperate enough to take anything.
That’s why he hated Derek.
Stiles slammed his locker closed with more force than he had intended to.
“If you break it you pay for it, Bolinski!”
 
---
 
That day Erica had a seizure and was taken to the hospital.
It was her last day as a normal human girl.
And Derek gained a new beta.
Stiles and Scott followed her after her great revelation in the cafeteria, and
they watched as she stepped into Derek’s shiny car and drove off with a smirk
on both their faces.
Jealousy rose into Stiles’ throat like bile, and he wondered if Derek would
touch her just like he had touched him.
 
---
 
“You know what you’re doing right now that’s kinda funny?”
Stiles shook his head in a not so subtle way.
“You’re only looking in my eyes,” Erica said amused.
“That’s funny?” Stiles asked, his mind desperately trying to come up with an
escape route.
Erica chuckled and Stiles only then realized how scary she could be when she
wanted to.
“You know what’s even funnier?”
He didn’t say anything, just stood as still as possible, as if she was a
dangerous animal leaning towards him and whispering, “The fact that I can smell
you on Derek.”
“Huh? You’ve only recently been bitten, Erica. I think your sense of smell is
still a bit off…”
“You think?”
Stiles gulped, and hoped that she couldn’t tell yet that his heart was beating
like a ticking time bomb that was about to go off.
“Because I think that you’ve been spending some quality time with my Alpha. And
therefor I would assume he wants to – I don’t know – maybe give you the bite?”
Stiles tried to not psychically show how relieved he was. If that’s what she
thought was going on, he could work with that.
“Even if he did, you know he needs my consent to do it. And I wouldn’t give him
that. I don’t want the bite.”
I don’t wantDerek and the bite, he told himself.
Erica looked him up and down slowly, as if to contemplate how true his
statement was.
“Boyd does,” she said firmly.
“He doesn’t know the whole story,” Stiles shoots back.
“Nor will you be able to tell him. You’re having car trouble, remember?”
All Stiles could do was give her a confused look before she lunged at him with
something and he blacked out.
After that he woke up in a dumpster with one hell of a headache.
 
---
 
Stiles had never been so grateful in his entire life. If Scott hadn’t drove him
home, he didn’t know how he would’ve been able to get there otherwise.
His arms felt like jelly and every bone in his body hurt. Also he was still
slightly shivering from the cold.
Well, that’s what you get when you hold a werewolf up in a pool for over four
fucking hours.
Stiles wasn’t sorry he did it. At least he didn’t think he was, he couldn’t
have let Derek just drown. But he was tired, and human after all, which made
him even more tired.
He almost fell asleep with his face plastered to the window of the car until
Scott patted him on the shoulder and told him they had arrived at his house.
Something came out of Stiles’ mouth resembling a “thanks” before he forced
himself out of the car.
He went straight upstairs as quickly as his legs could carry him and
immediately took of his soaked clothes, stepping into the scolding heat of the
shower.
He was lucky that his dad came back from work just as he was putting on his
pajama pants and a loose shirt he slept in. Otherwise he would’ve had to
explain why the hell his clothes were wet.
Now he could discreetly throw them in the washing bin and let his shoes dry
under the radiator.
“Stiles! I’m heating up dinner, you want some?” His dad yelled from downstairs.
Stiles wasn’t sure if he wanted to eat or just pass out on his bed, but the
choice was quickly made for him when his bedroom window opened.
Derek jumped into the room like it was the most casual thing in the world, and
Stiles thought his day just couldn’t get any worse.
“Maybe later, dad! I’m going to do my homework first!” Stiles yelled back
before closing the door to his bedroom behind him.
“What are you doing here?”
“I came to tell you something,” Derek said and it was hard to not pick up on
how nervous he was.
Which was pretty odd come to think of it; Derek barely showed any emotion other
than anger and constant annoyance.
Stiles crossed his arms, not really wanting to hear Derek talk right now. All
he wanted was to sleep and forget about everything that had happened.
“Why did you save my life?” Derek asked and Stiles was taken back for a moment.
Only Derek would actually ask shit like that.
“I don’t know,” Stiles said honestly, because his brain wasn’t really in top
condition right now. He wasn’t sure if that was the wrong thing to say, but
Derek seemed to understand what he meant.
“You saved me first. You pushed me away from the kanima and that’s why you got
paralyzed.”
Derek looked as if he had forgotten it already.
“Why did you do that?” Stiles asked back.
“I don’t know,” Derek repeated.
Stiles nodded, accepting the fact that none of them had to have reasons to save
each other, it was just something they did.
“Is that what you came to say? Because I’m kind of exhausted and I’d like to go
to bed now.”
“I also…I wanted to…I trust you, Stiles,” Derek said it like the words were
forced out of him.
“What?”
“I trust you.”
Stiles didn’t exactly know what to say to that except for, “Oh, well…I trust
you too.”
He didn’t have a clue how they had gotten from bickering in a pool just an hour
ago to having a decent conversation.
And they trusted each other now? Guess that when you almost drown together or
get mauled by a giant reptile, it creates some kind of bond.
Derek glanced over to the closed door and then back at Stiles. “I should
probably go now.”
“You probably should,” Stiles said, his eyes darting down to look at Derek’s
lips, like he couldn’t help himself. When had Derek moved so close?
He wasn’t sure which one of them acted first, but their lips met and Stiles
found himself being shoved against the door. Which was kinda hot.
“Hmm, Derek wait…” Stiles’ words were muffled when Derek sucked his bottom lip
into his mouth.
Stiles placed a gentle hand on Derek’s chest to push him back, before they
wouldn’t be able to stop all together.
“What?” Derek asked, staying as close to Stiles as possible, his hands already
traveling up his back. He then pulled back abruptly. “Yes, I should go, I -”
He let Stiles go and tried to step away from him when Stiles pulled him back by
his arms.
“No! No, that’s not what I meant. I just wanted to suggest that we should be
quiet, because of my dad.” Stiles elaborated quickly.
“Oh,” Derek looked like a big dork, his blush extending to his ears and Stiles
questioned how he could’ve ever hated him before.
“Could we also sit down or something? My legs are shaking and I don’t think I
can hold myself up for much longer.”
Derek genuinely smiled when Stiles dragged him over to his computer chair and
let him sit in it. Then he proceeded to crawl into his lap, continuing to kiss
Derek.
Derek held the boy close against him, his hands finding a way underneath his
shirt. Stiles felt Derek’s fingers graze the smooth skin of his back, and he
trembled in response.
Stiles entangled his arms behind Derek’s head, shifting so he could sit
directly over the wolf’s thighs.
Derek didn’t let the opportunity slip to kiss Stiles breathless. He kissed him
like it was the only thing he wanted to do on this earth, and Stiles had to
admit that every time Derek touched him it had felt like that.
Derek also kissed his cheek, warm lips brushing over every mole. He licked down
Stiles’ neck, making the boy throw his head back to give him easier access.
Fuck, he was going to have the worst beard burn tomorrow.
“You taste so good right here,” Derek purred, pulling the collar of Stiles’
shirt down to expose his collarbone and give him an open mouthed kiss there.
Stiles didn’t even know Derek could purr, or that he enjoyed leaving hickeys on
soft pale skin.
Stiles moaned, soft and pleading, his blush spreading further south.
Derek just kept on going, mouthing at every patch of skin he could find. He had
to hold Stiles in place when he covered the boy’s clothed nipple with his lips
to keep him from squirming.
“Oh, fuck!”
Derek gave out a satisfied rumble and Stiles could practically feel the asshole
smile into his shirt. The werewolf laved his tongue over the stiff little nub
and used his left hand to reach underneath the boy’s shirt to pinch the other
neglected nipple.
“Der…”Stiles’ fingers dug into Derek’s shoulders, and he had to bite his lips
almost to the point that it bled because it felt that good. “They’re just
really sensitive, okay?”
“Good to know,” Derek said with that smug grin of his.
Stiles rolled his eyes, covering his mouth with his hand to let out a yawn.
“You’re tired,” Derek (aka mister obvious) noted.
“No , I’m not,” Stiles said, trying to suppress another yawn, his fingers
playing absently with Derek’s hair.
“Go to bed, Stiles.” And it wasn’t as much a command as it was a request.
“You want to join me or…?”
“Stiles.”
“Derek.”
Derek tightened his arms around the boy so he could hold him up while he got
out of the chair. He then proceeded to place Stiles back onto his feet on the
floor.
“You do that on purpose?” Stiles asked, his voice a bit whiny even as he did as
he was told and crawled under the covers.
“What?” Derek asked, watching him with his hands in the pockets of his jacket.
“Get me all hot and botheredand then just leave?”
“Maybe.”
Stiles settled onto his matrass, staring at the older man as he made his way
over to the window.
“You’re a tease, Derek Hale.”
And then he closed his eyes and fell asleep.
Chapter End Notes
     Sorry for taking so long to write... Next chapter will probably be up
     faster, as it's my fave chapter up to date.
     Because I'm not writing from Derek's POV, I'd like to make clear that
     one of the most importans reasons Derek didn't want Stiles to touch
     him in the previous chapters, was that he didn't trust him.
     Of course there's also the age diffrence, but Derek felt he would be
     too exposed if Stiles touched him. He wants Stiles, really badly, but
     he doesn't want to be used again and become an easy target, that's
     why he only touched Stiles.
     Hope you get what I'm saying, and let me know in the comments what
     you think!
***** It's alright if you want to get used *****
Chapter Notes
     Oh shit, this didn't come out as quick as I had wanted to...
     Sorry guys, but I hope the lenth and content make up for the late
     update.
     Thank you for the sweet comments and I hope you enjoy this!
“What do you mean it didn’t work?”
“I’m saying it didn’t work, Stiles. Derek’s not listening to me.”
“Okay, so make him listen!” Stiles raised his voice, arms flying around in the
air. “This is Lydia we’re talking about!”
“No,” Scott sighed in defeat, which wasn’t a very good sign. “This is Derek
we’re talking about. He’s not going to listen to me even if I put a megaphone
to his ear and scream in it.”
Stiles caught a glimpse of Lydia walking by, laughing with Allison about
something that probably wouldn’t matter after her throat would be slashed. By
Derek or one of his betas.
“Stiles?”
“Let me think, Scott.”
That day as soon as he got home Stiles started pacing around in his room. With
his phone clutched tightly in his fist he went through everything in his head.
Every possible solution. Every way he could safe Lydia, but it all felt
hopeless. There was only one thing left to do, and he couldn’t convince himself
to not at least try it.
He dialed the text and sent it without even checking.
The answer came quicker than he would’ve expected and his hands were nearly
shaking when he read it.
Stiles: Don’t kill Lydia. She’s not the kanima, trust me. Please.
Derek:I don’t have a choice.
Stiles threw his phone on the bed and decided it was time to inform Scott to
get Lydia to safety.
 
---
 
Stiles didn’t have to look up to see that Derek had entered his bedroom through
the window. Again.
He wasn’t surprised to say the least. He knew it would only take a matter of
time before Derek would stalk him personally. Again.
“I need all the information you have on the Kanima,” Derek said.
Stiles didn’t acknowledge him, he just stepped away from his computer and
started looking through his backpack for homework assignments.
“Scott said you have the pages from the Bestairy on your computer.”
“Why don’t you go and ask Allison? She has them as well,” Stiles suggested,
still facing away from the werewolf.
“I’m not asking her, I’m asking you,” Derek said, his tone indicating that he
was getting pissed off.
Good, Stiles thought.
“I’m not in the mood to helpyou.”
“What?”
Stiles turned sharp on his heels, his hands filled with books and papers. “I
think you heard me.”
He stepped away from his backpack, sorting out the stuff in his hands when
Derek grabbed him by the arm and forcefully dragged him over to his computer.
“Let go of me!” Stiles grit out in between his teeth, but Derek only pinched
his arm harder.
“I’m not a ragdoll you can just man handle around!” Stiles yelled at the older
man, dropping everything he had been holding onto the floor and slapping Derek
in the face with the open palm of his free hand.
He would’ve hit him with a fist, but he figured an open palm would be more
painful and humiliating.
And it certainly looked that way. Derek immediately let him go, taking a step
back.
Stiles watched with great satisfaction as Derek’s cheek turned scarlet red, but
he felt instantly disappointed to know that it wouldn’t last.
“Looks good on you,” he snared.
Derek’s jaw twitched, and for a second there Stiles thought he might actually
get his throat ripped out.
“What’s your problem now?” Derek said, clearly trying to control his rage.
“My problem? I asked you not to kill Lydia! I told you she wasn’t the Kanima
but you didn’t listen!” The words were out of his mouth before he could help
it, and frankly Stiles didn’t even care anymore.
He was so fucking angry and Derek wasn’t even aware why.
“I did what I had to do to protect my pack,” Derek said in his defense.
“You almost murdered her, you jackass!”
Then Derek did something Stiles didn’t expect at all. He smiled.
“What are you smiling about?”
“I just can’t believe that you’re still hung up on Lydia Martin, a girl who
would rather screw around with Jackson than you.”
“Shut -”
“A bit pathetic. Following her around like a dog on a leech. Kissing her feet
while she walks all over you with her expensive shoes.”
Stiles couldn’t comprehend how Derek was the one comparing himto a dog now. How
did he even have the nerve to say any of those things to him?
And Stiles couldn’t even talk back. For the first time in his life he was at a
loss for words, right when he needed them most.
Derek seemed content with Stiles just staring at him, speechless. The angry red
mark on his face was already fading away and Stiles had to do something.
Something to get back at him, to have the upper hand before it was too late.
It would only take a moment for Derek to leave. To jump out of the window or he
could stay and watch Stiles break down. The bastard could probably smell the
salt of Stiles’ tears as they threatened to escape.
The boy blinked them away. There was still time. If he had the courage, the
wits to say what he wanted to say. There was still a chance he could hurt Derek
back.
“Must’ve been easy, right?” Derek didn’t ask what he was talking about. Didn’t
have to, because once Stiles had started there was no stopping him anymore.
“Scott wondered how you did it. How you convinced three strangers to trust you
and become part of your pack. But we both know that’s what you do. Can’t be too
hard to seduce lonely teenagers… ”
“I don’t -” And there it was. The look Stiles had been hoping for. The look of
pure horror and shame on Derek’s face. And he looked even more chocked than he
had before, when Stiles had hit him in the face.
“What was the hardest thing to do? Getting people to take the bite, or getting
them to sleep with you?”
He was going for the big guns, and there was no going back now. Stiles was
almost shaking with anger, every word tasted like poison on his tongue and he
had to get it out. Get it allout.
“I may be pathetic, Derek. But at the end of the day, you’re the one lurking
behind trees, begging Scott to be your friend, when all you can get are some
poor minors that don’t have anywhere else to go.”
Stiles wanted to stop, but he was so pumped with adrenaline that it was like he
wasn’t in control of himself anymore.
“So why don’t you go and find someone of your own age to torment, and leave me
the fuck alone.”
And that was it. Stiles wasn’t sure what he had been expecting, for Derek to
rage back or just beat the shit out of him right then and there, but he wasn’t
expecting him to leave.
To just turn around, without another word and jump out of the window.
He thought he’d feel more triumphant. Craving for Derek to stand his ground and
at least hurt him back in some way.
He was almost disappointed.
 
---
 
He didn’t hear from Derek after that. Not for a while. Until the night he and
Scott accidently ended up at a gay club. Ironically.
“Let’s split up,” Scott suggested. “You stay here and keep an eye on Danny,
I’ll go look for Jackson.”
“Send me a text if you find him.”
Scott nodded before making his way towards the crowded dancefloor, leaving
Stiles alone at the bar.
Stiles kept his gaze firmly set on Danny, while he sucked the straw of his
drink into his mouth. It didn’t take long before he felt a hand on his arm and
he turned and almost spilled his coke in the process.
“Where’s Scott?” Derek asked.
“Don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m just hanging out with my good friend
Danny.”
Stiles went back to slurping up his coke and he couldn’t help but notice
Derek’s eyes linger on his lips and the straw caught between them.
“What are you even drinking?”
“Rum and coke, obviously,” Stiles chuckled uncomfortably. “Just, you know –
without the rum…”
Stiles rolled his eyes at the way Derek smirked. “Haha, so funny. Stiles can’t
buy alcohol yet. We can’t all be -” He stopped mid-sentence, staring up at
Derek like it was the first time he saw him.
“You can buy alcohol!”
“Keenly observed, Stiles. You sure you’re not a detective?”
Stiles thought his eyes were going to get stuck rolled into the back of his
head if Derek kept that sarcastic tone up for the rest of the evening. But it
wasn’t as if he didn’t deserve it, after the fight they had.
He wanted to say something back, but felt his phone buzz at the same time. It
was a text from Scott.
Scott:Everything okay?
Stiles:Danny’s fine. Derek’s just looming over me at the moment but what else
is new.
Scott:Derek’s here? You have to keep him away from Danny until I find Jackson.
Stiles:How am I supposed to do that?
Scott:Distract him. Make something up.
“Damn,” Stiles whispered, looking up from his phone and finding Derek pushing a
glass towards him.
“It’s rum and coke,” he said by way of explanation.
“Thanks,” Stiles said more enthusiastic than he probably should have, before
taking a huge sip.
Derek however wasn’t paying him any attention anymore, he was too busy noticing
Danny in the back and suddenly Stiles realized what a mess this could turn out
to be if he didn’t do something soon.
If Scott went after Jackson, everyone might come out alive and unharmed. But if
Derek went after Jackson, people might end up hurt, or even dead. Including
Danny.
“Aren’t you going to finish yours?” Stiles asked as innocently as possible,
pointing towards Derek’s own glass.
“No, can’t really taste it anyway.”
Stiles finished his own drink in big drawn out gulps, hoping he could block the
view from Danny. He coughed lightly into his hand, feeling the alcohol burn in
the back of his throat.
He then proceeded to take Derek’s glass and start on that one as well, the
second one going down even easier after the first one.
“Let’s go outside,” Stiles said, grabbing Derek’s arm and practically forcing
him to follow, which he surprisingly did without much resistance. “You draw too
much attention,” he added, giving everyone who was staring a dirty look.
“No one’s watching.”
“Yeah right, keep on moving.”
They went out the back door through which Stiles and Scott had entered earlier.
It left them both in an empty ally.
“What are we doing out here?” Derek asked, looking as confused as a giant
puppy, and Stiles really should stop comparing his werewolves to dogs.
Werewolves. Werewolves in general. Not his.
“Maybe I want to dance with you.”
Derek gave him the weird eyebrow look again. “You’re supposed to be dancing
inside, not out here next to a dumpster.”
“Maybe I want to give you a private dance,” Stiles said, tripping over his own
feet as he pulled Derek closer to the wall. He had a feeling that his alcohol
induced mind was tricking him into thinking that he sounded a lot more
confident and sexy than he actually was.
“Are you drunk already?”
Stiles pouted. Didn’t Derek find him smooth and irresistible anymore?
All he could think about was the vague text from Scott saying ‘distract him’,
and if there was one thing he knew would distract Derek…
“Know you’re still mad at me,” Stiles slurred. “But I do want you…Still, want
you, Derek…”
“I’m here to stop Jackson from killing anyone. Not to seduce teenagers,
Stiles,” Derek said, meaning to walk back inside the building until Stiles
grabbed him by the arm.
“I shouldn’t have said that, I’m sorry,” Stiles couldn’t control it any more,
he knew he was rambling, but it was like someone had made a mess of his brain.
“Please, Derek, please. I want to touch you. I want you to touch me…”
Stiles pulled him in close, his nose bumping into Derek’s, his hand rubbing up
and down his arm.
“Don’t you want to?”
Derek made somewhat of a ‘hmm’ sound, nodding in agreement, his eyes switching
from Stiles’ eyes to his lips, and to the closed back entrance of the club.
Stiles took the opportunity to lean for Derek’s mouth, making the kiss a bit
clumsy and messy, but he didn’t think Derek really minded. Not by the way he
kissed Stiles back.
“Can I?” Stiles asked, staring up at Derek through his heavy eyelids. His hands
were desperately roaming the wolf’s body.
He placed his palms firmly on Derek’s chest, letting them slide down until he
felt denim underneath his fingertips. Derek had stilled underneath Stiles’
touch and the boy gently ran his thumbs just above the waistband of Derek’s
jeans, to calm him down.
It brought Stiles back to that very first night when he had let Derek sleep on
his bedroom floor. “Is this okay?”
As soon as Derek had whispered a husky ‘yes’ Stiles immediately made work of
undoing the tight jeans. His hands were too eager and sweaty but he managed to
undo the button and zipper before pulling them down a bit, along with the black
boxers underneath.
Stiles was so excited and joyful about finally being able to touch Derek that
he had to kiss him again.
He wrapped a hand around Derek’s cock and it made the older man groan into his
mouth. “Fuck, Derek…” Stiles said when their lips parted, his eyes focusing
back south.
“You’re so beautiful. Even your dick is pretty.” Stiles couldn’t believe that
he was actually telling Derek that, but it made the wolf flush from his cheeks
all the way to his ears and that made it really worth it.
Stiles wanted to make things easier so he held up his hand to lick it, before
continuing to jack Derek off.
“You ever think about me when you do it?” Stiles asked, knowing Derek was aware
of what he meant.
Derek didn’t respond, his hands holding Stiles by the hips, hard enough to
bruise as he watched the boy’s hand work his dick.
“Remember that night you stayed in my room?” Derek dropped his head down to
Stiles’ shoulder when Stiles started playing with his foreskin, tugging it up
over the head of his swollen cock, and back down.
“You moaned my name then, like you wanted me to be the one to make you come.”
Stiles was really getting into it when all of a sudden he heard the loud noise
of the back door opening and voices coming out.
Just as he let go of Derek’s dick the older man turned him around, pulling him
securely against his chest and pinning him effectively to the wall. Stiles
yelped in surprise, but the noise was mostly muffled by Derek’s hand when he
put it up against Stiles’ mouth.
They stayed like that for a few seconds, listening to the strangers’ whispers
before they disappeared into the night.
Stiles was panting against Derek’s hand, feeling the werewolf’s breath on his
neck. All of the waiting made him even more restless, his head was filled with
images of what they were about to do, what they could do. And it made his whole
body tingle in anticipation.
“Mppf-” Stiles let out a broken sound when Derek pinched his nipple sharply. He
jumped back in surprise, his ass bumping hard into Derek’s crotch.
“Shhh,” Derek whispered against his ear. “Take them off, Stiles.”
Stiles assumed that he was talking about his pants, because there was no way he
would’ve been able to take his shirt and hoodie off with Derek holding him like
this.
He did as he was told, letting his pants and underwear drop to his ankles. No
point in hiding anything if Derek had already seen most of it.
Derek groaned quietly, as if the sight of Stiles, practically bend over and
naked from the waist down was too much for him to take in.
Stiles felt Derek’s hand run up and down his hip, and he knew Derek was
watching him, making him feel incredibly exposed.
“You even have moles here…” Derek said huskily and it sounded as if he was
talking to himself rather than to Stiles as he softly touched his ass.
“Derek…”
Derek had removed his other hand from Stiles’ mouth, using it to push up the
clothes on the boy’s upper body to give him a better view.
“Maybe I should spank you… Get your ass as red as those pale cheeks of yours
when you blush.”
He smacked Stiles on the ass to accentuate his words and Stiles couldn’t help
but moan loudly and arch his back. “You can do anything…”
“Anything?”
Stiles had meant it. It’s not like he had a wide range of experience, and
everything Derek had done to him at this point he had liked. A lot. So why
wouldn’t he trust Derek to decide what they should do next?
Derek grabbed his jaw. “It’s that bratty mouth of yours that always gets you
into trouble.”
“I thought you liked bratty,” Stiles snapped back, turning his head back to
smirk at Derek.
Derek’s response was to bite his shoulder, two of his fingers trailing off to
tease Stiles’ hole. Stiles let out and embarrassingly high sound, and was
instantly relieved to remember that no one could hear them.
Derek played with the rim, rubbing over the rosy pucker until Stiles’ knees
were shaking and his dick was leaking.
“Oh, god,”Stiles moaned when Derek managed to push a dry finger in.
“Fuck,” Derek hissed in return. “You can’t be this tight…”
Stiles had his eyes shut, nibbling on his lower lip until it almost bled. He
was going to die. Derek Hale was going to be the absolute death of him.
“Touch yourself,” said the werewolf in his ear and Stiles obeyed immediately,
grabbing his cock and jerking off in quick and practiced strokes.
The thought crossed Stiles’ head that Derek might actually fuck him tonight. He
might fuck him right then and there, next to a dumpster, in a dirty alley
behind a gay club.
It also occurred to him that someone could walk in on them. Even Scott. Who
knows how long it would take for Scott to find Jackson, if he even finds him at
all.
Maybe he’d go back to the bar, searching for Stiles. While Stiles was getting
fucked out back in an alley by Derek.
The thought excited him as much as it frightened him at the same time.
He wasn’t sure if he was ready for that.
“Derek…”
He tried to form coherent words, but all that came out was Derek’s name, broken
and honest, like a plea.
The arm that was holding him up against the wall was trembling and Stiles
thought he was going to fall over or pass out or something. The air seemed so
thick and hot, it made his head spin.
“I’m close…”
At that Derek added another finger, trying to get it past the tight rim of
Stiles’ ass. Stiles felt the cool spit land on the second finger before it was
directed back into him.
But there was no actual lube, and Derek’s fingers were a lot thicker than his
own. “Wait, I can’t…”
“You can take it,” Derek groaned before continuing to mouth at Stiles’ neck and
shoulder.
The boy tipped his head back, releasing a long drawn out moan, wanting to edge
Derek on as much as he could in return.
He thrust his hips up into his fist, his balls already drawn up tight and his
ass clenching around Derek’s fingers.
“Fuck…me… Fuck me, Derek.”
Shit, the humiliation of having to beg Derekt to fuck him just managed to turn
on Stiles even more.
Every nerve ending was on fire, every muscle in his body tensed hard before
releasing violently, until there was nothing but mind blowing pleasure.
Stiles came, shooting warm and white all over his hand, some of it landing on
the brick wall in front of him. His mouth was wide open in a silent scream.
If Derek wasn’t still holding him by the waist, Stiles would’ve sure been lying
on the ground already.
He winced when he felt Derek’s fingers twist inside him before pulling out, he
would definitely miss being full like that.
Stiles was still coming down from his high, when he felt Derek spread his ass
cheeks, pressing his cock in between.
He growled low in his throat and rubbed up against Stiles like he was in heat,
until the moment he came, his come landing on the boy’s ass and lower back.
Stiles grunted softly, it was only then that he realized how cold it was,
having to stand outside with half his clothes on, sweat and come drying on his
skin.
“I -”
He wanted to say something but no words came out. He had done it again. Now
that the adrenaline and booze had worn off, there was nothing left but an
agonizing void in his whole being.
He was physically satisfied, and still it seemed like it wasn’t enough. He
didn’t want Derek to leave. He didn’t want to go back to Scott like this, dirty
and stupid.
Stiles hated himself in that moment more than he ever had in his life, as he
blinked away the tears that had started to well up in his eyes. He wasn’t going
to cry. Not in front of Derek.
Derek had stepped back already, leaving him to get dressed and Stiles could
feel him staring at his back, he was probably contemplating how they had ended
up like this.
As was Stiles.
All of a sudden, dozens of screams erupted out of the club. The back door flew
open and people started to run out like a herd of wild animals.
It all seemed to kick in and Stiles forgot about his temporary problems with
Derek.
“Jackson!” he said sharply.
Derek didn’t wait to follow Stiles back inside the club, and just like that, it
was once again as if nothing had happened between them.
***** Might not appeal to fools like you *****
Chapter Notes
     Fuck this is late, but luckily I'm finally getting back into the
     swing of things! Really feel inspired for the next chapters. Thank
     you to everyone who's still interested, and I apologize for the long
     wait.
Stiles glanced out the window of the driver’s seat, still terrified that at any
moment police cars would drive up to the stolen van.
“Do you think this distance is enough?” Allison asked.
“Don’t know…” Stiles answered shewing on the string of his hoodie.
“Stiles?” Allison glanced over at him. “Are you alright?”
Adrenaline was rushing through Stiles’ blood and the words came out without him
even realizing it.
“I slept with Derek.”
There was a long silence before it was broken by Allison, who looked completely
and utterly confused.
“I’m sorry, what?”
“Oh my God!” It finally dawned on Stiles what he had said and who he had said
it to. “Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God!”
He turned to the girl in the passenger’s seat, his voice shrill with panic.
“Please, don’t tell Scott! I don’t even know why I just said that, just don’t
tell Scott!”
“Okay, calm down,” Allison tried to compose him. “I’m not going to tell
anyone.”
“Really?”
“Of course not, it’s none of my business.”
That seemed to take the edge off of things, and it made Stiles sink back into
his seat in relief.
“Thanks.”
“Stiles?”
“Yeah?”
“Do you want to talk about it?”
Stiles was playing with his phone now, doing anything to not look Allison in
the eye, because he could feel her staring at him. “No…I don’t know.”
“Well, if you do, I want you to know that you can talk to me about it anytime
you like, okay?”
“Yes.”
They sat there for a while, not speaking to each other. Waiting. And Stiles
knew he messed up. There would be a tension between him and Allison now, just
because he couldn’t keep his mouth shut.
Or he could talk to her about it. She had suggested it and Stiles had already
pretty much told her the basics.
Oh, fuck it.
“I know you don’t like him,” he started. “I don’t think I even like him that
much.”
He was being honest, but the pitiful look that Allison gave him said enough.
Stiles let his head rest on the steering wheel, eyes closed and lips tight.
“I’m sorry, you should just forget what I said.”
“I’m not going to pretend that I’m president of the Derek Hale fan club here,”
Allison said. “But I won’t judge you for anything that might’ve happened
between you two. Hell, I’m not one to talk, my boyfriend’s a werewolf and I
come from a family of hunters.”
“That’s the point,” Stiles let out a deep breath, sitting back upright.
“Derek’s not my boyfriend. He’s not even my anything.”
“Is that what’s bothering you?” Allison asked. “The part where he isn’t your
boyfriend? Or the part that it’s Derek?”
“Both?” Stiles answered hesitantly, his fingers absently moving on the steering
wheel.
“Maybe you should talk to him about it?” Allison suggested, and it sounded like
such a reasonable thing to do that Stiles wondered why he hadn’t tried it yet.
Stiles snorted. “You have met him before, right?”
“Good point,” she said.
And just like that the conversation ended when Scott called to check up on
Jackson who was still in the back of the stolen van.
 
---
 
A week later Stiles got his chance to at least try and talk to Derek, when he
was driving home from Scott’s house and noticed the black Camaro at a parking
lot he drove past.
For a second, Stiles slowed down, contemplating if he shouldn’t just ignore his
first instinct and just keep on driving. But then again, he had never been too
good at ignoring the first things that came to mind.
He parked his jeep a few cars away from Derek’s, before getting out and walking
up to the sleek Camaro.
He tapped softly on the window, and when Derek didn’t react he opened the door
to the passenger’s seat and got in.
“What are you doing?” Stiles asked.
Derek didn’t seem to care much about the fact that Stiles just got into his car
without an invitation, he just kept on looking straight ahead.
“Jackson has been spotted here a few times, I want to know what he’s doing.”
“Oh, okay.” And awkward silence fell after that and Stiles honest to God cursed
himself for ever getting into the car.
Not only was it incredibly uncomfortable just sitting there silently, staring
into the darkness outside. But Stiles also realized that this was the first
time they’ve been alone together ever since the whole deal at the gay club.
Trying to convince his dad that he could be gay, and his dad not believing him
even when he had another guy’s come drying on his back, had definitely been a
special experience to say the least.
Stiles had been jerking it every night ever since, imagining it happening
again. Imagining Derek and him all alone again somewhere. As much as he hated
himself for it, he couldn’t help but crave it at the same time.
“Stop thinking about it,” Derek said, his voice steady, eyes never even looking
at Stiles.
“I’m not.”
Which was a lie. Obviously.
Derek snorted like the big a-hole that he was. “Forget about it, Stiles. It’s
not happening again.”
Now it was Stiles’ time to snort. “You know that whenever people say that, it’s
usually right before ‘it happens’ again.”
Derek didn’t respond.
“So, if that’s your way of taking the reverse psychology road, you can just
come out and tell me that you want ‘it’ to happen again.”
Derek rolled his eyes, acting as if he didn’t care when Stiles knew the exact
opposite was true.
“I know that you enjoyed it as well, Derek. I had to scrub the evidence off of
my back and let me tell you, it’s not an easy place to reach.”
“Shut up.”
“Don’t tell me what to do.”
“God, can’t you ever shut your trap? All you have to do is sit there in
silence,
while I try to figure out a way to stop Jackson from killing all of us and -”
“Wow, I don’t think that you’ve ever been this talkative.”
The look Derek gave him next meant that he was probably considering ripping
Stiles’ head off. And so Stiles thought it best to change the subject.
“Can I suck you off?”
“What?Why are you asking me that?”
Stiles shrugged like it was the most normal thing to ask in their current
situation. “I don’t know. Just something I want to try.”
Derek went back to looking ahead of him, his cheeks and ears turning red.
“I’ll be quiet…” Stiles added. Though he was pretty sure that wouldn’t be the
case.
“Fine.” Derek grumbled out with the best effort.
Stiles grinned, leaning over to get to Derek’s seat. He eagerly started to undo
the werewolf’s jeans, taking out his cock.
Derek still didn’t pay him any attention, he just let out a soft sight when
Stiles started licking attentively at the head.
Soft little kitten licks that were meant to drive Derek crazy, followed by only
rubbing his plump bottom lip against the head.
Stiles shifted on his feet, trying to find an easier position which wasn’t
really possible with his knees on his own seat and balancing over the gear to
reach Derek.
“Are you alright?” Derek asked, looking over Stiles’ weirdly placed position.
“Yeah, I’m great,” Stiles said, steadying himself with one hand on Derek’s
thigh. He felt slightly warm inside, not sure if it was from the blowjob or the
way Derek was concerned for him.
Maybe both.
Stiles wrapped his plush lips around the head of Derek’s cock, pressing down
and trying to hollow out his cheeks and suck as best as he could at the same
time.
The hardest part was to keep breathing through his nose now, and not falling
over head first into Derek’s lap.
He heard Derek curse softly above him, pushing his hips slightly up into
Stiles’ mouth.
He used his tongue to lick broad striped up the underside, his head bobbing up
and down, trying to mimic what he had seen from porn.
“Stiles…”
Stiles moaned around Derek’s dick, the hand he wasn’t using for leverage
sneaking down to touch himself through his jeans.
Getting himself off all the while sucking Derek was the most erotic and mind
blowing thing Stiles had done up to date, it made his mouth literally water and
he accidentally let some drool escape when he sucked Derek down again.
“Stiles!”Derek whispered sharply.
Stiles looked up, his cheeks an embarrassing tone of red and his obscene mouth
wide open. A bit of drool and pre-cum still connected the head of Derek’s cock
and Stiles’ bottom lip.
“What?”He asked, surprised at how hoarse he sounded.
“You.. you…” Apparently Derek wasn’t able to form coherent words when all he
could do was stare at Stiles’ filthy mouth.
“Pull – your – jeans – down…”
Stiles raised an eyebrow in question but did as he was told. He awkwardly
pushed his jeans and underwear down (he assumed that’s what Derek wanted) as
far as they would go in his current state.
Derek nodded. “And arch your back.”
“Wha-?”
“Arch it.”
Stiles rolled his eyes, but nonetheless arched his back, his bare ass now in
high up in the air. Fuck. This was definitely the strangest position he had
ever been in, in his entire life. He was sure that he made quite the picture.
“Now, continue.” Derek said, pleased.
Stiles all too gladly did, taking Derek’s cock back in his mouth and sucking it
down greedily.
He also went back to fucking into his own fist, his dick had steadily leaked
pre-come all over itself which eased the way.
Stiles was just busy pushing the tip of his tongue into the slit of Derek’s
cock when he felt Derek lean over him. At first he thought that the werewolf
was just crouching over from the pleasure until he noticed Derek’s hand on his
ass, and his middle finger sliding up and down his crack.
Shit. Holy fucking shit.
Stiles' hand on his own dick stuttered as he was left panting around the
cockhead in his mouth. For a moment he was shivering with pleasure, too damn
horny and turned on to even do anything but just keep on breathing through it.
And when Derek actually started teasing his rim, rubbing around it and even
dipping inside, Stiles just lost all control and sank down onto Derek’s cock
almost all the way.
Derek moaned, his hips pushing up again, hoping to get as far down Stiles’
throat as he could.
Normally, Stiles would be worried about his gag reflex, afraid to take Derek
all the way, but he was so blissed out, his hand working swiftly up and down
his dick and chasing his own nearing climax that he just barely even noticed.
He groaned around Derek’s cock several times in a row, when Derek’s finger
pressed inside his tight hole. “Fuck, Stiles… Fuck…”
Stiles came first, his ass lightly fluttering around Derek’s finger, and the
moans of his name barely heard with his mouth stuffed full of cock. He road it
out, eyes closed in utter bliss and his hand feverishly working up and down his
gushing dick.
He came all over his fingers, his plaid shirt and a tiny bit also landed onto
the seat underneath him.
Derek gently pulled his finger out of the boy, and just had to inhale the scent
of Stiles’ come for him to follow and spill down his sore throat. Stiles
thought he heard something rip but he couldn’t bother to care what it was, not
when Derek was throwing his head back and panting heavily, not when Stiles had
made that happen.
After swallowing as much as he could he looked up through his lashes, and
flinched when he pulled off of Derek’s cock and some of the remaining come
landed on his face. He scrunched up his nose, the come on his cheek warm and
sticky.
“We should really work on your aim, big guy,” He said, using the sleeve of his
already ruined shirt to wipe off the excess come on his seat and own dick,
before meaning to wipe it from his face as well.
“I got jizz on your seat, sorry about that.”
“Doesn’t matter,” Derek breathed. His hand stopped Stiles from wiping his face,
and instead he put his thumb on the boy’s cheek and smeared it over Stiles’
lips.
Stiles got the message, sucking Derek’s thumb into his mouth, licking at the
digit lazily.
“Your mouth, Stiles…”
“What’s with my mouth?”
Derek answered by kissing him hungrily on the lips, probably tasting himself
and Stiles combined. Stiles hummed into the kiss, content and happy, smiling
against the wolf’s mouth.
“You’re not just fucking me for my mouth, are you?” Stiles asked cheekily when
they parted. He fell back against his own seat, tugging off his dirty shirt
(luckily he had another plain one underneath, so he wouldn’t have to go home
half naked) and throwing it in the back seat of Derek’s car.
“No, I’m not,” Derek said.
“Good.”
There was a silence in which Stiles rubbed at his jaw, which felt kind of numb.
And his lips were swollen and tingling. He was just a hot mess all around.
But when he glanced over at Derek, the werewolf seemed to smirk, his cheeks
heating up. Also he spotted a tear in the leather underneath Derek’s seat,
suspiciously looking like claw marks.
“Can’t believe that asshole Jackson didn’t even show up. What a waste of time!”
Stiles exclaimed over dramatically.
“Not such a waste,” Derek chuckled. And Stiles right out laughed in return.
 
---
 
Early the next morning, Stiles suddenly thought about what Allison had
suggested to him. "Well, there was some talkinginvolved," he told himself.
 
***** It’s a one way road from here *****
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes
Stiles watched the two werewolves step out of the broken train-car, his arms
still clutching Erica who had presumably either passed out from the pain or
exhaustion.
She was quiet, het body still shaking slightly from the aftershocks of her
seizure, though her broken arm seemed to slowly be healing.
Still, with the lack of supernatural hearing, it was impossible for Stiles to
make out what Derek and Scott were talking about. Shit.
A thousand possibilities went through his head, none of them pleasant.
-“So, are you secretly sleeping with my best friend?”
-“Eh -”
Stiles could imagine the stunned look on Derek’s face as the Alpha tried to
come with a reasonable explanation.
-“There wasn’t…any… eh… sleeping involved...”
They’re fucked.
And not in a good way.
Stiles looked up when Scott entered the train again and walked over to him. In
his head he was freaking out, but he acted calm and collected, waiting
anxiously at to what Scott was going to say to him next.
“So, it’s probably best if we take Erica home now.”
“What?”
“Derek and I agree that she should stay at her parent’s house tonight.”
Stiles nodded in understanding, too relieved to say anything. He helped Scott
pick Erica up and then proceeded to follow his best friend outside.
After they had taken Erika home, Stiles dropped Scott of at his place before
texting Derek.
Stiles: Do you mind if I stay at your place for a bit?
Derek responded pretty quickly, so there was no time for Stiles to really
contemplate his request.
Derek: No, I don’t mind.
 
---
 
By the time Stiles came back to Derek, the Alpha had cleaned up the
bloodstained newspaper on the floor and was waiting for him. “So what did you
and Scott talk about?”
“When?”
Stiles rolled his eyes. “When you both went outside, you know what I mean.”
“Didn’t Scott tell you?”
“Obviously not, if I’m asking you.”
Derek crossed his arms, pausing for a few seconds as if unsure to continue. “We
were talking about Jackson. And Scott agreed to help me fight him…As part of my
pack.”
“Seriously?” Stiles needed a minute to process that.
Derek nodded, suspiciously looking at the teenager in front of him.
“Why? Does that surprise you?”
“Yeah, well…” Stiles wasn’t quite sure how to put it, but he knew Scott, that’s
the point. And there was no way Scott had agreed to be in Derek’s pack just
like that. There had to be an ulterior motive, Derek just didn’t know what it
was, but neither did Stiles.
And he didn’t think it was wise to tell Derek that.
“I just thought that Scott might’ve asked about…you know…us?”
“Us.”
“Me and you,” Stiles pointed at Derek and then back at himself. “Doing the do…”
“I got it, Stiles.”
“Then why do you always look like you need it drawn out on paper.”
“Please, don’t draw it out on paper.”
Stiles smirked, trying to appear casual as he leaned against one of the poles
in the train-car. “FYI, I did doodle it on my homework paper once. Harris
wasn’t amused.”
Once again Derek was staring at him as if he wasn’t sure if Stiles was joking
or not.
“Anyway,” Stiles noticed then that not only was Erica absent but so were Isaac
and Boyd. “Where’s the rest of your pack?”
Derek moved to the other side of the train and came back with two mattresses.
“They’re at Erica’s. They wanted to be with her when she woke up. It’s not the
first time they’ve stayed there, so don’t worry.”
To be honest, Stiles wasn’t worried for them at all. Not them.
“So, they have like occasional sleepovers or something? Without you?”
He didn’t mean for it to come out the way it did. He was just curious about the
whole pack thing, and what part everyone had to play in it. Maybe it would be
useful to know, if Scott was actually planning on joining.
“Yeah, I don’t think her parent’s would like it much if I showed up there. They
already assume their daughter’s in some kind of gang. Also I’m a fugitive for
murder, remember?” Derek said calmly.
“You were cleared! It was a false accusation!” Stiles yelped, still feeling
guilty about it.
“Don’t think they would see it that way. It’s okay, Stiles.” Derek quickly
added.
He was gathering pillows and sheets to add to the sad looking mattresses on the
floor. And Stiles only then realized that the second mattress was meant for
him.
He sat down onto it, trying to keep his growing grin to a minimum. “I’m just
wondering what Harris is going to say when he finds out what a mess we’ve
made.”
“Jackson made the mess,” Derek corrected him.
“True, guess we can at least try and blame him for it.” Stiles put his hands
underneath his head, making himself comfortable. “So…uhm, Derek…”
“No.”
“You don’t even know what I was going to say!”
“I can smell it, and the answer is no.”
“Sure about that?”
“Yes. Go to sleep, Stiles.”
“Okay.”
 
---
 
I can do this. All I have to do is believe. All it takes is to believe.
Stiles closed his eyes, taking a deep breath, his fingers shaking around the
mountain ash in his palm.
I have enough. Just keep going. Believe.
He took a step forward. And with every step it became easier to just follow
through with it. The fine black powder flowed out onto the ground, continuing
the line around the building.
Be that spark, Stiles.
The words echoed on and on in his head.
The boy looked down at the ground, his hand empty and at his feet two lines of
mountain ache connected.
It had worked! It had actually fucking worked! Stiles jumped up with his fist
in the air in triumph.
“Yes!”
“Stiles?”
Derek appeared from around the building, making his way over to Stiles. “Did it
work?”
“Hell yeah! Look, I did something!” Stiles exclaimed proudly, pointing at
himself.
Derek nodded looking up from the mountain ash on the ground to the entrance of
the building.
“So, what do we do now? Wait for the rest?”
“I guess,” Derek leaned up against a wall in between two cars. “Stay out here
on watch, see if the Argents show up.”
Stiles was about to say something in return when they heard a long and drawn
out howl.
“What in the name of fuck was that?” Stiles asked stunned.
“Scott…” Derek said.
“What?”
“Break the circle, Stiles!”
“Why? Where’s Scott?”
Derek turned, ready to run and his eyes desperate. “Now! Break it now!”
“Okay!” Stiles freaked, falling down to his knees and breaking apart the line
of mountain ash.
The last thing he felt was Derek putting a reassuring hand on his shoulder
before he ran into the nightclub.
 
---
 
Stiles had been waiting in his room for hours when Derek finally crawled
through his window. He helped him drag him inside, as he noticed that the
werewolf seemed to be injured.
“Oh, thank God! What happened? Are you okay? I’ve been waiting and no one was
able to tell me anything except for Deaton who didn’t really -”
“What did he tell you?” Derek asked, grimacing slightly as he sat down on
Stiles’ bed.
“Something about you dragging Scott who was unconscious and about to die into
his clinic. And that Scott is going to be fine, but I still don’t know what
exactly happened back there.”
“Where’s Jackson?”
Stiles paused for a second. “I’m not sure. He ran away before we could stop
him.”
The teen sat down next to Derek on the bed. “You still haven’t answered my
question.”
Derek stared at the floor, not making any eye contact. “I did something,
Stiles. Something bad.”
“What are you talking about? You saved Scott!”
Derek went silent again, and when Stiles leaned in he was almost certain that
he saw Derek’s eyes water. “I – I went in to get Scott. But the room was filled
with smoke. Wolf’s bane. He was poisoned and I was attacked from behind. I
didn’t see who it was, it was like I couldn’t see, couldn’t breathe.”
“Derek -”
“I bit her.”
“Who?”
“Argent’s wife.”
Stiles reacted stunned for a moment, his brain still trying to wrap around
everything that had happened and what Derek was telling him.
“You bit Allison’s mother?”
“Yes.”
Stiles didn’t really know what all of that meant, but he did know one thing.
“So she was trying to kill Scott, is that what you’re saying?”
“I’m saying that I bit an innocent person, without their permission.”
“You saved Scott! You saved my best friend from a hunter who was going to kill
him, and who tried to kill you!”
Derek shook his head. “You don’t understand.”
“No, I do understand! You had no choice but to defend yourself, she chose to
become a hunter, she knew the risks. As much as I hate for this to happen to
Allison, it’s not all your fault.”
“Still feels like my fault,” Derek said when he didn’t even need to, it was
written all over his face.
Stiles sat with him for a while, his hand on the werewolf’s back. A lot had
happened and all of it was running through Stiles’ mind like a tornado.
He decided to let it go for the night as he leaned forward to kiss Derek.
Trying to convey what he felt into the kiss, how grateful he was to have him.
Derek was surprised and hesitant at first but then returned the kiss, his hands
finding Stiles’ waist.
“Thank you for saving him,” Stiles whispered against his lips.
Derek only nodded, but it was enough for now.
“You want to clean up? My dad’s working a night shift so you can stay, if you
want.”
“Yes. Thanks, Stiles.”
There were no other words exchanged that night.
Stiles let Derek use his bathroom to shower and get ready for bed before he did
the same. They shared his bed because it would be silly not to at this point.
There was no reason to pretend that they hadn’t gotten close.
Derek was too exhausted from what had happened that day and he fell asleep
quickly and deep.
Stiles was up for a while, contemplating what all of this meant for their
group. If everything was going to change now. And in particular how things
might change between him and Derek.
Chapter End Notes
     Honestly I did lose interest in this story again, had this chapter
     mostly finished
     and I have an outline for the next ones, kinda, but I'm not sure how
     it will go :/
     I'm sorry, if I have some more free time I will try and finish it!
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