Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/932201.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Teen_Wolf_(TV)
  Relationship:
      Derek_Hale/Stiles_Stilinski, Scott_McCall/Stiles_Stilinski
  Character:
      Derek_Hale, Stiles_Stilinski, Scott_McCall
  Additional Tags:
      Dubious_Consent, Unsafe_Sex, Rape/Non-con_Elements, Knotting, Mating
      Cycles/In_Heat, Loss_of_Virginity, Voyeurism
  Stats:
      Published: 2013-08-19 Words: 2209
****** Wolfnip ******
by novaberry
Summary
     PWP w/ Scott (in heat) as the catalyst for Derek/Stiles. Written
     shortly after (or maybe during?) Season 1, so this Derek is harder
     than the one we now know, while Stiles is softer.
Stiles is dead asleep when Derek climbs through his window. The Sheriff's on
patrol, so Derek doesn't bother trying to be quiet as he moves to the bed and
yanks the blankets back, getting a noseful of Stiles' distinct scent. He
flushes, not expecting Stiles to smell so good, all sleep-warm and sweaty.
He grabs one bony shoulder, claws edging through the kid's t-shirt, and Stiles
jerks awake with a stuttered cry.
"Get up!" Derek grunts, stepping back to let him sit up.
"Derek?" Stiles squints at him in the darkness, his face soft and open in
sleepy confusion, and Derek really does not have time for this. He grabs a pair
of jeans from the floor and tosses them at Stiles.
"Yes! Now, come on. Scott needs you!" Sure enough, dropping Scott's name is all
it takes to get Stiles moving.
"Oh!" He jumps up, but his legs are tangled in the bedsheets and Derek has to
dart in and catch him. "Sorry," he mutters, shoving away from Derek once his
feet are clear. Derek can feel the heat of the kid's blush, can't help but
smirk.
Stiles hastily dresses, waking up enough in the process to start barraging
Derek with questions: "Where are we going? What's wrong with Scott? Is he
injured? Did he hurt someone--"
"Just shut up and tie your shoes. Don't need you breaking your neck before we
even get to him."
 ***
Stiles' mouth is a problem. Has been from day one, but Derek (somehow) manages
not to forcibly shut him up as they head back to the remains of the Hale house.
Derek doesn't like it, but he'd been forced to chain Scott up in the basement
before he left. The moment Stiles sees the state of his best friend, the kid
finally goes quiet. He looks between Scott--who's naked, wolfed out and
snarling at them--and Derek, eyes gone big and wary, troublesome mouth dropped
open in shock.
"Why is he naked? And uh, h-how--" Stiles' voice breaks on the question. "How
am I supposed to help with this?"
"He destroyed his clothes, he's in heat. He needs to fuck someone." Derek meets
Stiles' gaze, holds it hard. "Anyone."
Stiles blinks and even in the flickering torchlight, Derek sees the blood drain
from his face. He stares at Derek until Scott snarls and lunges at them, seems
to shake the entire room. Stiles shoots his best friend a horrified look and
shifts closer to Derek. He's sweating in earnest now, his slight frame
trembling, and Derek almost feels bad for him.
"Derek," he whispers. "I can't. He'll hate me! And besides, I-I've never--"
"Never been fucked by a werewolf?" Derek offers, smiling sharply. "There's a
first time for everything and don't worry, no way would he hate you for doing
this. Huh. He might even start using your name as a password. You know,
depending on how it goes."
"Ha HA." The kid glares at him. "Yeah, now's definitely the time to be making
jokes. Why don't you just let him stick it in you?"
Now it's Derek's turn to glare. Scott growls again, this time mournful,
desperate, and Stiles yields, thick lashes dipping as he drops Derek's gaze. He
grabs Derek's arm though, slender fingers digging at the muscle beneath Derek's
jacket, and says, "Derek, I really can't. I've never had sex at all."
Derek doesn't like to admit what it does to him when Stiles is laid bare like
this, all the cocky teenager knocked out of him. Derek doesn't like how it
makes his gut go warm, sends a pleasant jolt to his dick. So he shrugs Stiles
off and lays the truth on him.
"If you don't do it, he's going to go after Allison. Do you really want that to
happen?"
Stiles covers his face, moaning, "Oh God, okay. FINE."
***
"Wait, you're going to watch?"
"Yes, Stiles! And I might have to do more than watch, just to keep you from
being dismembered. I hope that's okay?"
Stiles doesn't seem to know how to respond to that, but Derek's too busy
rearranging Scott's cuffs to be bothered with Stiles' whining anyway. Scott is
really far gone, further than Derek's ever seen, and he knows it's 'cause the
kid's put off mating for too long. Derek secures the wrist cuffs low on the
wall, letting Scott sit back against it, one ankle chained to posts on the
floor.
He stands, tugging a small tube from his pocket. "All right, lose the pants and
underwear, and get yourself ready with this."
After another round of gaping, stuttering and blushing, Stiles turns away and
strips down to his jacket, shirt and tube socks, but after a second, he takes
the jacket off and ties it around his waist. Derek rolls his eyes when Stiles
faces him again, but Stiles just stares at the lube like he has no idea what to
do.
"Jesus, Stiles! Put it in your ass, okay? Unless you want him to tear you!"
Stiles blanches and lets out a hysterical laugh.
"Wow, thanks. You sure know how to set the mood." He uncaps the lube and then
reaches behind himself, like he's just going to stick the tube up there. Derek
grabs his wrist, shakes him.
"What the fuck are you doing? Slick your fingers and then stick them in your
ass."
"Oh! Yeah okay, that makes sense, but also: sticking my fingers up my ass?
Gross."
Derek claps a hand over his eyes. This is going to be a long fucking night.
***
Derek moves to the far end of the room, but can still see/smell/hear everything
as Stiles finally starts impaling himself on his friend's dick. He has no
choice. He has to keep a close eye on them, has be ready if Stiles needs him.
He keeps telling himself that as his blood begins to rush, his own dick
fattening up when Stiles cries out, taking just the tip of Scott into his tight
little hole. The kid has skinny fingers, so Derek knows he wasn't able to get
himself stretched out enough, even two wouldn't cut it. If Derek had stepped in
then--and God, he'd been tempted--he'd have worked Stiles open good and wide.
Gotten him loose enough that it may even have felt good when he sank down onto
Scott.
He watches Stiles cling to his wolfed-out bff's shoulders, struggling to take
him, with Scott snarling and grunting, but thankfully not nipping at Stiles.
Scott's hips jump, like he's trying to force himself deeper, and Stiles' head
drops back, a choked-off cry slipping free. Derek's mouth floods wet and he
licks his teeth, feels that they've gone sharp, long. He edges closer, eyes
riveted to the pale, smooth curves of Stiles' ass, the thick, purpled erection
straining to get inside.
Suddenly Scott howls, arching sharply, and loses a hot, messy load, covering
Stiles' ass. Stiles freezes and then starts laughing, right in Scott's face and
if Derek couldn't move so fast, the kid might've lost his head. Luckily, he's
able to get an arm around Stiles' waist and lift him, falling back with the
half-naked kid in his lap, just in time. Scott's teeth close on the air where
Stiles' slender neck had been a millisecond before.
Derek's half wolfed-out himself when he growls at Stiles, "What the hell is
wrong with you? Do you have a death wish?"
The kid sags back into him and Derek is suddenly hyper-aware of the fact that
Stiles' naked, come-splattered, mostly-virgin ass is resting atop his throbbing
dick. Derek gasps and holds Stiles tighter, rutting up against him
instinctively.
Stiles jerks in shock and Scott howls.
"Shit!" Derek shoves Stiles to the ground and jumps to his feet. "Get back on
him. That was just round one. And for fuck's sake, no more laughing in his
face, no matter what!"
***
In the end, Derek has to help. At least, that's how he's going to choose to
remember it. The truth is, he had no idea how sweet Stiles would be, how hot
he'd look, sitting on someone's dick. How good he'd smell. Scott gets all the
way into him on round three and Stiles moans, sounding broken, but when Derek
darts forward, he finds the kid's erection bobbing just beneath the hem of his
t-shirt. It's smooth and pink, shiny wet at the tip, and Derek's vision swims.
He tears Stiles' jacket and shirt off, baring all that milky-pale, blushy skin,
and Scott makes an angry sound, but Derek's the alpha. If he wants this, it's
his. Besides, Stiles has taken the edge off for Scott. It's Derek's turn.
Derek kneels up and takes Stiles' pixie face in both hands, nips at Stiles'
lips before seizing his tongue, sucking hard as he slides one hand over Stiles'
chest, rubbing at dark pink nipples. Scott growls and fucks up into Stiles
hard, knocking a sob from Stiles throat, pushing him even closer to Derek.
Derek wraps his arms around the kid's slender waist and lifts, tugging him off
Scott's dick with a wet pop.
"Derek," Stiles whines, clinging to him, sweaty and sore and almost drunk on
pheromones. It's beautiful. He carries Stiles upstairs, lays him out on an old
mattress, and strips. Stiles' sits up, a frown marring his brow.
"Derek, wha--why are you--oh!"
Straddling Stiles, naked, seems to be a good way to shut him up. Derek will
have to keep that in mind for future reference.
"Shhh. S'my turn." He shifts around, gets a grip under Stiles' sweaty knees and
pushes them to his chest with minimal resistance. Stiles seems shocked,
pliable.
"Uh. Oh shit. Derek, really? Please tell me you're kid--oh, God!"
Stiles is a hot, wet mess,inside, so Derek finds himself balls-deep on the
first thrust. Stiles seizes up, whimpering.
"S-sorry!" Derek pulls out and fucks back in a few times, trying to find the
kid's prostate.
"Oh!"
"Yeah," Derek grunts, nailing it again. He settles into really fucking Stiles,
hard snaps of his hips that get him deep into Stiles' heat, and Stiles' dick
perks up again, pre-come slicking up his pale belly.
"Mnghhh. Ohhhhh, yesss. Oh m-my God, YES." And okay, maybe Derek's okay with
Stiles' mouthiness in this situation.
When his gaze catches on that familiar and usually so annoying mouth, dropped
open on pleased little cries from the shove of Derek's dick, Derek has to push
Stiles' knees apart, has to kiss Stiles, capture every shocked sound. Stiles
suddenly bears down on him, wringing at his dick in hard, sweet pulses, and
come splatters across Derek's abs. He wolfs out, barely managing to tear his
mouth from Stiles and bite the pillow next to the kid's neck when his body
shifts. He loses it, filling Stiles up, the wolf intent on obliterating any
trace of Scott.
Stiles whimpers and claws at his back and Derek touches his fangs to Stiles'
throat, warning him to keep still until it's finished. After the last pulse,
they both freeze. Derek knows Scott didn't knot Stiles, wolves don't usually
knot when they fuck other males, but Derek's body has decided otherwise and he
feels himself swelling, stretching Stiles almost to the breaking point.
Stiles,his boy, is frozen, not even breathing, so the wolf licks soothingly at
his neck, hot tongue pressed to the kid's rushing pulse. It moves big, clawed
hands across the boy's slender body, massaging taut muscles, soothing the
heated, soft skin of his back and belly.
"Mine," the wolf growls, edging its nose behind one delicate ear, scenting the
boy.
***
Derek comes back to himself and finds Stiles trying to work himself free from
Derek's hold.
"Stop," Derek grouses. Stiles smells so good, feels so good beneath him. Stiles
shifts restlessly beneath him and Derek sighs, feeling his soft dick twitch,
still inside Stiles.
"Derek?" Stiles sounds weirdly unsure, like maybe Derek's not Derek. Oh.
"Yeah, it's me." Derek eases up, elbows on either side of Stiles' head, and
looks down at Stiles. The room's suffused with that pre-dawn, gray light.
Plenty for Derek to see by. "You okay?"
Emotions flicker across Stiles' expressive face, but he just nods, mouth gone
flat and tight, almost like he's trying not to cry. And that's just scary.
Derek frowns and pulls free, reaching down to touch at the kid's hole.
"Oh God, don't!"
Derek ignores the plea, the wave of mortification that sours Stiles' scent.
"Shhh, just need to see if you're torn." He presses his finger into Stiles,
feeling the kid's ass still full of his spunk. His dick throbs, wants to go
again, but he just scoots down so he can see what he's touching and thank
goodness, there's no blood. He keeps fingering Stiles though, watching the raw
little mouth cling to his thick finger.
"Wh-what's it look like? Am I--do I need to go to the E.R.?"
"No, just need a good bath." Derek dips in, pressing his hot tongue to the
kid's pink balls and Stiles bears down on his finger beautifully.
Then Scott has to go and interrupt.
"DEREK, YOU FUCKER! Get your grubby paws off of Stiles and let me out!"
Please drop_by_the_archive_and_comment to let the author know if you enjoyed
their work!