Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/809809.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Teen_Wolf_(TV)
  Relationship:
      Derek_Hale/Stiles_Stilinski
  Additional Tags:
      Dom!Derek, sub!Stiles, Scent_Marking, Hand_Jobs, Comeplay, Blow_Jobs,
      Subspace, Aftercare, First_Time, Shower_Sex, Facials, Dom/Sub_AU,
      Alpha!Peter, Spanking
  Stats:
      Published: 2013-05-20 Updated: 2014-09-18 Chapters: 9/? Words: 76921
****** looking for it (finding heaven) ******
by ittlebitz
Summary
     Everyone knows from birth if they are a Dom or a sub. Markers in the
     blood show which one is going to be, and when maturity is reached, a
     tattoo is put on the left hand that displays which you are and
     indicates readiness for a claim.
     Dominant Derek Hale is determined not to take on a submissive after a
     deadly mistake in his past. But the Alpha, his uncle Peter, has other
     ideas. He arranges for Derek to claim Stiles Stilinski, much to
     Derek's initial dismay. But as soon as he sets eyes on the sassy
     submissive, all his Dominant urges flare to life and his wolf demands
     that he claim what belongs to him.
Notes
     This all started because Sam is a dirty enabler my bestie and she
     tagged me in this post, then combined it with puppy dog eyes on the
     messenger, and now this fic is born.
     I have been threatening to write a Sterek fic for some time now, so I
     guess she got tired of my flipflopping and decided to issue a
     challenge she knew I couldn't resist. I hope everyone enjoys my first
     effort at writing Teen Wolf!
     Many thanks to Sies for being an incredible beta and to Shelley for
     tolerating all my flails and ideas cluttering up her ask!
     Fic name from the song by Jann Arden
See the end of the work for more notes
***** Chapter 1 *****
===============================================================================
"But I already told you, I don't want one!"
Derek Hale angrily followed his uncle, Peter Hale, as he strode briskly into
his office. He could practically hear the eye roll as Peter heaved out a long-
suffering sigh. Peter walked over to his desk and sat in the plush high back
chair, leaning back to eye Derek as he moved to stand stiffly in front of him.
Derek's jaw was tense and his hands were clenched into tight fists at his
sides. He knew his eyes glowed a faint blue as testimony to his agitated state,
and that his expression was most likely mutinous. Peter sighed again, then
fixed his steady gaze on Derek, allowing a brief tinge of red to enter his
eyes.
"Derek, we've been over this multiple times and I'm done explaining. It's time
you put the past to rest and took on a sub. You're a Hale, after all. You carry
the markers of dominance and are part of a long and prestigious line. It's what
is expected of you. I've been extremely lenient with you, but it's past time
for you to step up and become a proper Dom. A submissive will bring out your
natural dominance, will anchor your wolf and make you stronger. As the next
Alpha, Laura is training to take over the family business when I retire, but
you are expected to be on the Board as her Beta, there to help her and take
charge should it for some reason become necessary. Now that you're back from
New York, I can no longer in good conscience allow you to founder along
aimlessly. What would your mother say to me? In fact, what would she say to
you?" Peter questioned him, knowing exactly which buttons to hit to get to his
point across.
Derek bowed his head and closed his eyes, swallowing thickly. "She would expect
me to do my duty," he ground out.
As loathe as Derek was to admit it, Peter was right. His mother would have been
exceedingly disappointed that he hadn't claimed a proper sub by now. Like her,
he was a born wolf and a Dominant. Markers in the blood were checked at birth
in order to determine whether a child was a Dominant or a submissive. The
natural instincts were latent until the teenage years when maturity kick-
started them and the urges began to manifest. At that time, they received their
tattoo mark of something symbolic to them on their left hand that indicated
they were able to enter into a claim. A special ink was used that reacted to
the blood markers to take on the signifying color; black for submissives and
red for Dominants.
Children were raised with the expectation that they would enter their first
claim after being granted their tattoo. Being in a claim would stabilize them
during the crucial growth period where hormones ran rampant. The Dominant would
have an outlet for the powerful urges of control and possessiveness, and the
submissive would get the domination and protection they craved and needed. In
the case of the large werewolf population, the wolf prowled especially close to
the surface during this time as well, eager to dominate or submit. It was
especially crucial to them to be in a claim so as to not be overwhelmed
completely.
Most teenage couples were joined in provisional claims; short-term claims that
were easily terminated but with the option to make it permanent if both parties
desired. Once they reached the majority age of eighteen, Dominants and
submissives were free to experiment as much as they pleased, both in and out of
claims, though a claim was both preferred and encouraged. But Derek's mother,
Talia, had claimed his father, Donovan, at the age of seventeen, and they had
been extremely happy together. They had actually developed the Mate Bond, where
the inner wolf chose its life mate, a rare occurrence in such an early claim.
As soon as they were legally able, they made their claim permanent, rather than
parting ways later to join with another.
It was practically unheard of for a Dominant Derek's age to not have claimed a
permanent submissive, or to at least be in a provisional claim. While hardly
ancient at 24, most Dominants of similar age were settling down and collaring
their submissive.
Derek sighed inwardly. More than anything, he wanted a relationship like his
parents had. One filled with the deep love and trust between a Dominant and
their chosen submissive. A Mate Bond. But he knew he didn't deserve it. If it
weren't for his own blind stupidity, his mother would be here now, would have
been there to guide him through all this. Peter's voice cut into his deep
reverie and Derek looked up, blinking to make himself focus on his uncle.
"I'm glad you see it my way," Peter rumbled with satisfaction. "I've taken the
liberty of choosing a sub for you, a student from the Academy. One of our best
academically, top of the submissive class. I believe you'll find it to be a
good match for you."
Derek tensed and fought back a growl. "On top of being forced to take on a sub
I don't want, I don't even get to choose my own?"
Peter shrugged nonchalantly, looking almost bored. "To be frank, I didn't trust
you to do so. I am of the belief that you would agree to this just to get me
off your back, then drag your feet as you have continually done in the past.
You've turned down easily half a dozen acceptable subs over the last year
alone, Derek. And don't for a minute think I don't know about those clubs
you've been partaking of where any sub will allow you to dominate them however
you want so long as the price is right. It's a proven fact that those places
help take the edge off your dominance so you can keep your head clear but are a
poor substitute to having your own claimed submissive."
Derek looked away and felt his cheeks heat as he flushed under his uncle's cool
scrutiny. He had thought he was being discreet in the Sub Clubs, but he should
have known Peter was aware of his dealings there. The Alpha had eyes and ears
everywhere, after all. Even in New York. He tried again, "Uncle, I swear I'll
do this, I'll select a submissive to claim. Just let me choose my own."
Peter shook his head. "I'm afraid the matter is quite settled, Derek. The sub
I've chosen for you will make you the powerful Dominant you've always been
meant to be." His eyes grew colder. "And no offense, but the last time you
selected your own...submissive, it ended up being a disaster, didn't it?"
Derek glared at his uncle stonily, careful not to give away the grief,
humiliation and guilt flooding him. Disaster might be the understatement of the
century. Derek knew that, but having Peter throw it in his face was painfully
demeaning. "I wouldn't make that mistake again."
"Of course you wouldn't," Peter agreed coolly, "but that fact of the matter is
I won't let you. I believe you'll be rather pleased with my selection."
Derek eyed his uncle warily; he knew him far too well to believe this was just
a matter of selecting a submissive. "How do you know I'll be pleased? There's
something more to this. What's in it for you?" he asked, voice laced with
suspicion.
To his surprise, Peter laughed, actually sounding pleased. "There's the Hale in
you. I may begin to have new hope for you after all. Very well. The submissive
I have arranged for you to take is the only child of the Sheriff of Beacon
Hills. It's an excellent match, beneficial to all. You will get a submissive
worthy of belonging to a Hale, and I will have an extremely valuable connection
to the Sheriff himself. Such an alliance can only be an advantage, especially
in regards to hunters." His blue eyes hardened to an icy steel. "The Argents in
particular, as you well know. They have kept a relatively low profile after the
scandal, but I don't trust them one bit."
Derek growled low in the back of his throat, though he wasn't sure if it was in
response to Peter's reasoning or mention of the Argents. He opted to ignore the
pointed reference to the hunters and concentrate on the arranged claim. "That's
what this is about? You're making me take a submissive so you can have an in
with the Sheriff? And he agreed to this whole crazy scheme? You've got to be
kidding me!" he fumed, finding himself feeling outraged on not only on his
behalf, but that of the mystery submissive as well. "No, I don't want to. Let
Laura take on the sheriff's kid. Or you do it, I don't care."
Peter closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose, huffing in annoyance
as his irritation increased. "Laura is perfectly happy with Boyd, Derek, and
you know that," he said slowly, enunciating as if Derek were having trouble
understanding basic English. "She's planning on collaring him soon and she
doesn't want a secondary submissive. And I already have Erica and Isaac; I
don't want or need a third submissive and would only take on another in very
extreme circumstances. Quite frankly, I'm surprised at you. This is truly an
excellent opportunity. You are getting a rare chance that many Doms would love
to have. Getting a highly connected submissive that is well trained, an honor
student at the Academy, and perfectly ripe for you to teach exactly how to
serve and please you."
"But I still don't-" Derek began to argue, then flinched as his uncle's temper
snapped.
"ENOUGH!" snarled Peter, his eyes flashing full red and his fangs elongating,
voice taking on the deep timbre of the Alpha voice. "The matter is settled and
you'll do as you're told, Derek. And that's the Alpha telling you that."
Derek grudgingly backed down. He knew that meant the decision was final, coming
from Peter as the Alpha and not as his uncle. Dom or not, Peter would brook no
more opposition from him, at least not without harsh consequences. He
reluctantly ducked his head and tilted it to the side slightly to bare his neck
as he attempted to appease his uncle with the show of respect.
Peter sighed aloud as he reverted back to human form and stood up, walking
around his ornate desk. "Now, Derek, let's not quarrel. You and Laura are all I
have left and whether you believe it or not, I only want what's best for you.
Come along and see the submissive I've selected for you."
The hallway outside Peter's office led to another hallway where a large two way
mirror gave access to view the common area for the submissive students to
gather and mingle with the Dominant ones under close supervision. The Hale
Academy for Dominants and Submissives was a prestigious and highly accredited
private school for parents to enroll their children. Students were thoroughly
trained in the ways that would be required of them in their future in a safe
and controlled environment that ensured no Dominant got carried away and acted
out of bounds and no submissive was taken advantage of. Submissives were taught
the ways to show proper submission and to please the Dominant that would one
day claim them permanently. Dominants were taught things such as proper
dominance and aftercare techniques with strict attention to building respect
and trust in their claim. They were all educated in the various aspects of
their future claims, including such things as contracts, hard and soft limits,
safewords and using them correctly, awards and punishments, the significance of
a permanent claim, and collaring of the submissive.
To abuse a submissive was anathema to society. They were to be cared for,
coddled, pampered and punished, and treated with the utmost affection and
respect. A Dom that mistreated a submissive would be shunned and ostracized,
unable to claim a submissive since none would have them after such information
became public knowledge. Only the very basest and lowest of Sub Clubs would
even consider allowing such a Dom entry, and even then they would pay dearly
for the necessity of acting on the dominant urges coursing through them.
Derek and Peter looked through the mirror at the large gathering of students
inside, able to observe without being seen themselves. Peter scanned the crowd
for a moment, lips pursed in concentration before smiling as he found who he
was looking for.
"Ah, yes. There, at the table in the center of the room. Sitting between the
lovely redhead, Lydia Martin, and my Erica," Peter said, motioning with his
head.
Derek looked toward the mentioned area, looking for the familiar golden curls
of his uncle's female submissive, whom he had met recently when he returned to
Beacon Hills. When he found her and saw who Peter was referring to, it took all
of his self control not to visibly startle.
"You got me a boy submissive?" he asked in disbelief, turning to stare at
Peter, who looked wordlessly back at him, a single, unimpressed eyebrow raised
in answer. He remembered in a wave of hot humiliation that Peter knew he had
been going to the Sub Clubs and obviously knew the most minute of details all
the way down to his choice of submissive. He clenched his jaw and turned back
to the window silently to look again at the boy Peter had arranged for him.
The boy was laughing at something another dark haired boy sitting at the same
table was saying. His face was open and delighted, and even from a distance
Derek could see his warm brown eyes were framed with luscious lashes. He had a
lush mouth that bordered on obscene; perfect pink lips that could no doubt pout
and beg prettily or wrap around a cock in sinful fashion. His hair was short
but the perfect length for tangling hands in and tugging on. The hands he
gestured wildly with as he spoke were imminently capable and strong looking
with long, graceful fingers. He had a lean build, solid and muscular, but not
overly so. He was wretchedly, stupidly perfect.
Derek hated him.
"Come along, then," said Peter as he walked to the administrator's entrance to
the common area. He opened the door and stepped into the crowded room, nodding
in acknowledgement of a greeting from one of the teachers closely chaperoning
the gathered teenagers. Once Derek had joined him, Peter sauntered to the table
he had indicated to Derek. Erica noticed them first and gave Peter a
devastating smile as she slid from her seat to drop to her knees and tilt her
head to one side, baring her throat in obeisance.
"Alpha," she cooed breathily, eyes fluttering shut as Peter reached out to
stroke her curls fondly before settling his hand on her neck. "Isaac went to
the library. He wanted to use free time to research more for his project."
"Thank you, my darling. Such a good girl, and kneeling so prettily for me."
Peter smiled at her as she nuzzled into his hand. He then raised his eyes to
the rest of the teenagers at the table.
The dark haired submissive boy grinned mischievously up at them. "O, Alpha, my
Alpha!" he greeted cheekily before dropping his gaze back down to the table.
The other boy sitting with them glanced quickly at him in stunned surprise.
Derek held his breath for a moment as well, wondering both how Peter would
react to such an irreverent salutation from a submissive and what he could
possibly be thinking, saying this was the ideal submissive for him. To his
surprise, Peter chuckled at the same moment the red haired girl sitting next to
the boy placed her left hand firmly on the back of his neck.
"Manners, Stiles!" she admonished in exasperation, though her tone was a fond
one. She looked up and met Peter's eye, nodding once. "Headmaster."
Peter returned her nod pleasantly. "Miss Martin." He turned to Derek. "This is
Lydia Martin. Top of her class and one of the most promising Dommes we have
ever seen at Hale Academy. She already has not one but two Submissives in her
care and they are thriving. We couldn't be more pleased." He turned back to the
table. "My nephew, Dom Derek Hale, back from New York."
Derek nodded coolly to the stunning girl who was preening under the high
praise. For some reason he couldn't name, he felt his hackles rising that her
red tattooed hand remained on the boy's—his boy's—neck. That she was no longer
correcting him and was now rubbing his neck absently with a delicately
manicured thumb made it even more irritating, especially when his eyes
fluttered shut in obvious appreciation of being petted. Having reprimanded him,
she had no reason to keep touching him since he didn't belong to her. None of
Derek's feelings of possessiveness were making sense to him in the slightest,
seeing as they weren't even in a claim yet. The boy didn't even know he was in
the presence of his Dom, which didn't seem to deter Derek's dominant instincts
in the slightest. He suddenly very much wanted this boy on his knees in front
of him, kneeling in perfect submission, ready and eager to tend to the needs
and commands of his Dom. His eyes flickered down to the black tattoo on the
boy's left hand and he found himself wanting to take that hand in his own to
look at it more closely, find out what it was and what made it significant.
Then maybe strip him down and inspect every inch of him, since he now belonged
to Derek.
God damn it.
"As you see," Peter continued, seemingly unaware of Derek's inner turmoil, "she
also is invaluable in keeping her friends under control when needed. Isn't that
correct, Mr. Stilinski?"
The boy grinned again, still looking down respectfully. "Yes, Sir," he said,
sounding cheerfully unrepentant.
Peter gave Derek a smirk. "The young scamp Miss Martin is keeping in check is
Stiles Stilinski. A gifted Submissive, though he may not always act it."
"What kind of a name is Stiles?" Derek blurted out without meaning to.
The boy's eyes flew up to his for a brief moment before quickly returning down.
He tensed noticeably and, much to Derek's displeasure, Lydia's soothing motions
on his neck quickly became more purposeful. "It's my name. What I want to be
called." Lydia made a small noise of admonition. "Sir," he quickly added.
Peter stepped in smoothly. "His father has informed us that this is the name of
preference, Derek," he interjected, his gaze warning Derek not to push at the
moment.
Of course he was right, Derek thought irritably. All these details would be
known to him soon enough when they met with Stiles and his father to begin the
claim. Derek fidgeted slightly where he stood. It had been a long time since he
had last been to a Sub Club and his dominant instincts were close to going
haywire. His wolf stirred restlessly just under the surface of his skin, as if
it already knew he was so close to what was his, even though Stiles obviously
had no idea. He couldn't help taking a deep inconspicuous breath, although he
knew he wouldn't be able to pick Stiles' scent out of the large crowd.
Not yet, anyway.
Peter gave him a shrewd smirk as he went back to introductions. "The quiet lad
on the other side of Miss Martin is Danny Mahealani, one of her submissives."
He glanced around the room and turned back to the table. "But you appear to be
missing some of your normal group. Where is Mr. Whittemore? And Mr. McCall?"
"Jackson is meeting with Dom Finstock. He's been named captain of the
submissive's lacrosse team," Lydia replied. From the pride obvious in her
voice, Derek guessed that Jackson must be her second submissive.
"And Scott is with his Domme. I think she's punishing him for getting in
trouble in Dom Harris' class," mumbled Stiles mournfully. "I guess him putting
us in corner time wasn't enough punishment."
"Now, Stiles, Allison is a good Domme. She loves Scott. That's why she corrects
him when he does wrong," stated Lydia matter of factly. "She wants him to be
the best he can be and he wants to please her. If she didn't care she wouldn't
bother, and then Scott would suffer. And I'm sure your father will deal with
you as he sees fit when you get home." She squeezed Stiles' neck comfortingly
when he winced and groaned softly.
The bare whisper of sound made the hairs on Derek's neck stand up, putting him
even more on edge. He nearly growled, both at the notion that any Dom other
than himself would be punishing his submissive, father or not, and the fact
that Lydia was still touching his boy.
Peter slanted him a warning look. "Yes, well, we must be on our way. On your
feet, pet," Peter said to Erica, stepping back as she gracefully rose from her
kneeling position. He cupped her face for a brief moment, brushing a thumb
along her cheekbone affectionately before indicating that she return to her
seat. As she resumed her place next to Stiles, Peter addressed him. "And I do
believe we will actually have the pleasure of your company this evening, Mr.
Stilinski, as we will be coming to your home to meet with your father for a
business dinner. Do try to be on your best behavior." With that, he turned to
leave. Derek gave Stiles one last glance before turning to follow him.
They returned to Peter's office in silence. When they reached the door, Derek
met his uncle's knowing grin.
"Well?" Peter asked, as if there were actually any question.
Smug bastard, Derek thought irately. He nodded his head once. "I'll take him."
"Excellent," chuckled Peter.
===============================================================================
Back in the common room, Danny breathed out on a quick exhale. "That was
strange. Why would the Headmaster himself come here to talk to us? What do you
think it was about, Mistress?"
Lydia pursed her lips thoughtfully as she idly stroked the leather cuff Danny
wore on his wrist that indicated he was in a claim. It was identical to the
cuff Jackson wore and matched the cuff she wore on her own wrist. "I don't
really know. I suppose he's showing the prodigal nephew around now that he's
finally returned. Guess he finally decided to heed the call of duty."
Stiles glanced at her curiously. "Returned from where?"
"You don't remember? It was a huge scandal a few years ago." Lydia frowned as
she tried to remember all the details. "Something about Derek and an older
woman he was involved with, but it wasn't a claim since he hadn't reached
tattooing yet." She nodded at the scandalized gasps from the submissives around
her.
Claims before tattooing occurred were forbidden, and any sexual involvement
prior to it was highly taboo. Despite knowing from birth what one would be when
they grew up, maturity had to be reached before legally entering into a claim.
"Anyway," Lydia continued as she casually tossed her hair over her shoulder, "I
don't remember all the details exactly, except the crazy bitch burned down his
house. It turned out she was some sort of extremist hunter that hated
werewolves. Killed most of his family, including his parents. He and his older
sister Laura were the only survivors other than the Headmaster, since they
weren't home at the time." She frowned again. "There was something more to it,
but I can't put my finger on it right now. Derek and Laura went to New York for
a time, but Laura came back months ago. Derek just now finally decided to make
an appearance."
"That freakin' sucks about his family," Stiles said, feeling a sudden sense of
empathy with the mysterious Derek Hale. "Losing my mom was bad enough. If I had
lost both my parents I don't know what I would have done.
"The Alpha's submissive, his mate, was killed, too," chimed in Erica. "He
doesn't talk about her much, but she was pregnant when it happened. Isaac and I
know better than to bring it up."
"Doesn't that bother you at all?" asked Stiles doubtfully, gesturing with one
hand. "Because to tell you the truth, I don't know if I could really submit to
a Dom that loved someone else. I'd be worried I was always being compared
unfavorably to someone who was always better. That I was competing with a
ghost. I mean, I guess I would do what I had to, to honor my part of the claim,
if I would even agree to it in the first place. I think at the very least it
would be really hard getting to subspace. How could you trust that Dom to have
your best interests at heart?"
Erica smiled at him. "The Alpha is very good to us; I couldn't ask for better.
My wolf likes that my Dom is so strong and such a good provider. My parents
were grateful when he was willing to claim me and give me the bite to cure my
epilepsy and give me the chance to truly live. And he did the same for Isaac
when it turned out he was being mistreated by his father. The Alpha made us
better, gives us the best of care. He's firm but fair, and really affectionate
with us. Like, he honestly denies us nothing, and money is never an object to
him. You should see our playroom. And it doesn't hurt that he's incredibly
handsome, either." Her smile turned slightly wicked. "When I'm a really good
girl and he's pleased with me, he sometimes lets me play with Isaac."
Danny's eyes widened and Stiles snorted in disbelief. "What, he actually lets
you dominate his other submissive? Isn't that sort of weird?"
"I wouldn't call it dominating, really. I'm not a Dom. But he tells me what to
do and I do it. I guess kind of like a director for a movie. It's really fun
for me and Isaac likes it, too. I think the Alpha sometimes enjoys watching us
play together as much as he enjoys playing with us himself," Erica grinned
impishly as she pulled an apple out of her tote bag. She bit into it, somehow
making the simple act look seductive.
"Yes, I imagine he would," hummed Lydia thoughtfully as she looked at Danny's
suddenly pink cheeks. She lovingly ran her fingers through his hair and smiled
when he closed his eyes and leaned into her touch. Reaching down, she traced a
finger lightly over the black shell tattoo that adorned his left hand.
"Does Headmaster make you call him Alpha at home? 'Cause I'll be honest, I
don't mind Sir or something similar, but I don't know if I could scene with my
Dom and call him that," Stiles remarked, then ducked his head as Lydia sighed
and touched his neck again.
"That's really none of your business, Stiles," she reprimanded softly. "What a
Dominant and their submissive agree on for their private time is between them."
"Sorry, Lyds," Stiles apologized, then winced when she pressed his neck a bit
more firmly to remind him where they were. "I mean, Miss Lydia."
"Good boy," Lydia praised him, stroking his neck affectionately. "You know I
don't mind you calling me Lyds at home, but at school you need to remember to
address me formally."
Stiles and Lydia had been close friends since they were children. Their parents
had been friends and they'd grown up together. When Stiles' mother had gotten
sick, Lydia had been a comfort to him. She would keep close to him in school
and touch him often, knowing even at such a young age that contact was an
important source of comfort and security for a submissive. She had been able to
reach him where their teachers couldn't when his anxiety manifested into panic
attacks, often the only one who could calm him. On the nights when his father
had to work or be at the hospital, Stiles would often stay at her house and
they would cuddle together on the couch. And when his mother lost her battle
with illness and his father had been nearly overwhelmed with the grief of
losing his beloved submissive and coming to terms with becoming a single
father, Stiles turned to Lydia when his need arose. To this day, she always
seemed to instinctively know when he needed her.
For many years Stiles had been sure that Lydia was the Domme of his dreams,
sure they were perfect for each other, even though she always gently rebuffed
him. He had daydreamed often as they grew up of her realizing they were
actually meant to be, and claiming him once they were of age and tattooed. But
as they neared their maturity, he had come to realize that while he loved Lydia
deeply, it was more as a best friend and sister than as a Dominant, though he
instinctively responded to the command she naturally exuded. When it came down
to it, Lydia could be downright terrifying. Like, really.
Stiles had discovered that fantasizing during his "Stiles time" about a
curvaceous Domme putting him through his paces pretty much guaranteed that he
would have the happiest of happy endings. But Stiles had also found that
picturing a muscular Dom pushing him to the very edge and making him beg for
release also resulted in Stiles having some pretty mind blowing orgasms. After
thinking about it for awhile he had decided there was no sense in limiting
himself. When it came to the thrill of being dominated and showing submission,
Stiles didn't discriminate. He was an equal opportunity submissive.
So Stiles was content remaining the best of friends with Lydia. She looked out
for him, even to the point of sometimes saving him from himself, and she saw to
it that he wasn't harassed by the other students for his unclaimed status. No
submissive would dare risk her displeasure by teasing him, and no Dominant was
foolish enough to try to take unfair advantage of him and incur her wrath. Even
fully mature Doms were hesitant to take on Lydia Martin when she was in her
element.
"Now, apologize to Erica as well for asking about her private life, even though
I know you meant no harm," prompted Lydia, giving his neck another gentle
squeeze before releasing him.
Erica waved her hand dismissively. "It's okay, Mistress Lydia, I don't mind."
She grinned mischievously at Stiles, allowing her eyes to gleam gold and her
fangs to elongate slightly. "And no, I don't have to call him Alpha at home. I
prefer Sir and Isaac likes Master, but he lets us call him Peter as well. When
we're in public, we are expected to address him respectfully. Remember, he
isn't just an Alpha, he's The Alpha, and he doesn't tolerate anything less than
obedience and respect. And that goes for everyone, not just us. Honestly, I'm a
little surprised he didn't punish you for your impudence. If Mistress Lydia
hadn't been here to correct you, I imagine at best you would have found
yourself in the corner so fast your head would spin, and probably with a sore
ass as well."
"Headmaster doesn't usually trouble himself punishing students, he lets their
Dom handle it," shrugged Stiles. "Or, I guess in my case, my dad, since I'm
unclaimed," he commented, looking at his bare wrist ruefully.
Danny's eyes widened as he remembered something from the earlier conversation.
"Stiles! Didn't the Headmaster say they were coming to your house to talk to
your dad tonight?"
Stiles' jaw dropped open and he dropped his head to the table, groaning
miserably. "He totally did. The Headmaster, coming to my house to tell my dad
in person that once again, my stupid mouth got me in trouble, plus being put in
corner time by Dom Harris. I'm so screwed. What if I'm getting kicked out of
the Academy?"
"You're getting expelled? It must be my lucky day!"
Stiles raised his head to glare at the muscular boy who had just walked up to
their table. "Shut up, Jackson! This is serious! Life as I know it may be about
to end! Do you know what my dad is going to say if I've been expelled? I'll
just go ahead and tell you, he'll say he's going to kill himself a Stiles!" he
sputtered, hands flailing wildly in his agitation.
"Dramatic much?" Jackson smirked back at Stiles briefly before dropping to his
knees next to Lydia. He sat there quietly, head bowed and waiting for her to
acknowledge him. After a moment, she reached out and tilted his chin upward,
rubbing her thumb softly over his lips before releasing him.
"Good boy, Jackson, thank you for being so respectful. You may sit in a chair
and join us, my sweet," she said with a smile, "but you know I expect you to be
nice to Stiles. Do you understand me?"
"Yes, Mistress. Thank you, Mistress," Jackson said reverently, resting his head
on her knee for a moment before rising and grabbing a chair to pull it closer
to his Domme. He moved to sit between Lydia and Danny, and as he sat down, he
rested his head affectionately on Danny's shoulder, nuzzling him briefly.
Lydia smiled as she watched her boys together. Several Dominants had at one
time or another had their eye on Jackson, attracted to his classical good
looks, but his anger issues after finding out he had been adopted following the
tragic death of his biological parents had made him difficult to dominate,
making them leery of taking him on. It had been the private opinion of many
that he would either go unclaimed until an older Dominant with a firm hand took
a chance on him, or, worst case scenario, end a Sub Club worker, taking the
domination he would desperately need from any Dom with money to buy his
submission. That line of thought had only increased once an infected werewolf
scratch turned him briefly into a kanima. When Lydia had decided she wanted
him, it had surprised nearly everyone. More than a few people thought the brash
and confident Domme simply couldn't resist a challenge and that in this
instance, she would likely fail. But Lydia had patiently set to breaking down
the walls Jackson had built up. It had taken some time, but the emotional
breakthrough had been both intense and rewarding. Now Jackson was a werewolf,
free of the kanima curse, and completely and utterly devoted to her.
When Lydia had made up her mind to take on Jackson's best friend, Danny, as a
secondary submissive, few believed she would be successful. Having multiple
submissives could be a challenge even for the most experienced Dominants. Lydia
had gotten to know Danny while she was working on getting through to Jackson,
and they had become friends. He had helped her by hacking into the school's
supernatural database to learn about kanimas and how to deal with them. Danny
had been grateful to Lydia for what she had done for his friend, whom he
secretly adored, even though they were both submissives. He couldn't hide his
true feelings from her shrewd eyes, and she found that she didn't care for the
idea of Danny one day having to submit to a Dominant when his heart was
otherwise occupied. Direct as always, she approached Danny and asked if he
would agree to be her second submissive jointly with Jackson. He had been
apprehensive at first, until she assured him that he was not in trouble for his
feelings and she wasn't angry with him. She also promised to always respect his
preferences, so he needn't fear being punished for not serving her in that
capacity. After some consideration, Danny had agreed and they had all been
together quite happily ever since.
"What am I gonna do if I'm kicked out of the Academy?" Stiles fretted. "It's
bad enough I'm the only one of our group not in a claim, this practically
guarantees I'll never find a Dom. I'm going to end up living at home forever
and die a virgin," he panicked, working himself into an agitated state.
Lydia snapped her fingers in his face, halting his rambling. "That's enough,
Stiles," she said sharply, letting command enter her voice. "Headmaster said it
was a business meeting. I'm sure it's probably just introducing his nephew to
your dad so he knows who he is and that he's legit. It's your dad's job to know
who's who and keep the peace. I can't imagine Allison's family will be all that
pleased that there's a new Hale in town."
"Isn't he a hottie, though?" purred Erica slyly as she elbowed Stiles in the
ribs. "I would drop to my knees for him in a New York second. All he has to do
is say the word."
"Oh my god, Erica, that's your Dom's nephew you're talking about!" Stiles
yelped incredulously.
Erica shrugged nonchalantly. "Maybe he shouldn't lounge shirtless around the
pool in those wet shorts that display his...dominance so enticingly." She
rolled her eyes at the open mouthed look Stiles was giving her. "What? I'm
claimed, not dead. You can be on a diet and still check out the dessert menu."
"Shirtless? Shorts?" Stiles repeated faintly, eyes wide and looking slightly
glazed as his mind ran rampant with images of Derek Hale, dripping wet with
swim trunks clinging to him obscenely.
Jackson snorted. "I think you just broke him, Erica. Don't worry, Stilinski.
Everyone knows the Hales are the crème de la crème. I can't imagine you being
important enough to be on their radar for anything. They'll probably forget
you're even there and you can ogle him all you want."
"Jackson!" scolded Lydia, causing him to duck his head in penitence. "You know
that's not true. Stiles is going to make some lucky Dominant an excellent
submissive one day. Everyone knows Derek Hale isn't in a claim, and I have no
doubt that the Alpha is putting pressure on him to claim a submissive. He could
do far worse than Stiles."
Stiles gave a quick bark of laughter. "I seriously doubt that's it, Lyds. I
mean, Miss Lydia. That's probably completely outside the realm of possibility."
Lydia quirked a sculpted eyebrow at him. "Oh, really? Why do you say that?"
"Well, for starters, did you see him?" Stiles demanded. "I mean, I only got a
quick glance, but Jesus, from what I could tell he looks like a freakin' model.
We're talking angels probably weep daily over his perfectly sculpted
cheekbones. And then, there's me. I mean, yeah, I have no doubt one day a Dom
will realize just how awesome I am and be ready to put me on my knees, but I
doubt it'll be a supermodel. Let's be real."
"Hmmm, well, perhaps you underestimate yourself, Stiles. Besides, you didn't
see what I saw," said Lydia, nonchalantly studying her fingernails.
Stiles frowned at her in puzzlement. "What are you talking about?"
Lydia flashed him a brilliant smile. "Nothing much, really. Just that he looked
like he would cheerfully have torn my throat out with his teeth for touching
you." She laughed at his stunned expression. "Ah, yes, I can't wait to hear the
details of this business dinner."
Stiles looked at her doubtfully. He wondered if she would punish him if he told
her bluntly that she had to be seeing things, because there was no way the
hottest Dominant he had ever seen was going to be interested in him. Still, it
was a nice thought, definitely one for the Stiles collection of spank bank
scenarios. The idea of being on his knees and submitting to Derek was enough to
make his skin tingle, but no. He couldn't think about that. There was no sense
in letting Lydia's teasing give him wild ideas that were best not dwelled on.
He was already going to be in enough trouble for getting corner time, and he
didn't even want to THINK about what would happen if his dad found out he had
sassed Peter as well. He needed to focus on being on his best behavior tonight
and not embarrassing himself or his dad, not daydreaming of being claimed and
cuffed by Derek Hale.
***** Chapter 2 *****
Chapter Notes
     So I'm pleased that there has been a positive reaction to this so
     far! <333
     This chapter has a good bit of backstory to it and it ended up being
     a monster update. I hope everyone enjoys it!
     My love and gratitude go to Sies for her awesome beta skills and the
     time she put into working this over and making it pretty, to Shelley
     for again allowing me to throw ideas at her and for all of her
     assurances that they aren't all insane and for not taking out a
     restraining order on me..., and to Sam for encouraging this fic in
     the first place. Love you, ladies...
     Soooooo...how about that season premiere??
See the end of the chapter for more notes
Maksym Stilinski sat on his bed, deep in thought. In his hands he held the
braided soft leather collar that had belonged to Angelique. His beloved
submissive, his wife, the mother of his son. His best friend. The pain of
losing her had never gone away, though it had tempered with time until for the
most part it was a dull ache in his bones rather than the razor sharp agony
that would still at times rear its ugly head.
How he wished she were here now. He needed her, needed her calming presence,
needed her quiet wisdom. As he sat there alone, waiting for Stiles to come home
so he could talk to him about one of the most important and most difficult
decisions he had ever had to make, he cursed, not for the first time, the
illness that took her from him.
Maks had met Angie his sophomore year of college. He was at Sacramento State
studying criminal justice with dreams of possibly becoming a vice officer in LA
one day. She had been a dance and theater major, hoping to one day open her own
studio. Their first meeting had been at the library. Maks had seen her standing
on tiptoes, trying to get to a book she needed from a shelf that was just out
of her reach, and he had retrieved it for her. They had both been in
provisional claims at the time, but Maks couldn't help but admire the honey
colored eyes that had sparkled with so much personality as she smiled and
thanked him for his help. He sometimes saw her around campus after that,
usually in the company of the guy who was apparently her Dom. She always had a
friendly smile and wave for him, while her Dom regarded him suspiciously and
put an arm around her possessively.
Several months later, they ran into each other again, this time at a small bar
not far from campus. He had been there with a few of his buddies, playing pool
and having a few drinks. She came in with a group of giggling girlfriends. It
turned out she and her Dom had ended their claim; he was overly possessive of
her to the point of trying to control her life completely, which violated their
contract. Angie had known things were going sour when he began telling her who
she could hang out with and trying to make her change her major in school to
something more "appropriate." When he began accusing her of being a dancer just
to entice other Dominants, she knew she had to end the claim. Her girlfriends
had drug her to the bar that night to both cheer her up and celebrate her new
freedom.
Maks had recently ended his claim as well. He had been content enough with his
submissive, but the same wasn't true for her. Although Maks had earned a
scholarship, it didn't cover all his schooling expenses. He didn't want to take
out loans and end up starting life after school in debt, so he worked two jobs
to pay the remainder of tuition fees and be able to live off of, as well as
being a full time student. Between work, classes, and studying, he was often
tired and didn't always have much time for her. He knew that he wasn't always
meeting her needs; he could feel it in his own dominant nature when it had not
been tended to, the prickling unease that happened when he didn't exert his
domination and gain submission in return. Things had come to a head, though,
the night he came home early when class got cancelled and found his submissive
in their bed being spanked by another Dom. While two Doms could certainly share
a submissive if it were contracted, Maks had never agreed to it, and it was a
direct violation of their contract. There had been a loud argument that
culminated in her stripping his cuff off her wrist and throwing it at him,
screaming that she was leaving and would be back for her things. He had torn up
their contract that night and then called his best friend, who showed up with
movies, booze, and the assurance that it wasn't all his fault.
Still, Maks felt guilty because he felt like he had failed his submissive by
not tending to her needs and making her search for fulfillment outside of their
claim. She hadn't even trusted him enough to come to him and talk to him about
it. He was within rights to lodge a complaint against the other Dom, since
interference in a claim fell under jurisdiction of the magistrate, but he
decided it was hardly worth it. The damage had been done and there was no sense
pursuing a claim that very clearly wasn't working. Maks was a little leery of
taking on a new submissive while he was still in school, worried that the same
thing would happen. He had been able to keep himself in control and had not had
to visit a Sub Club thus far, though he knew if it came down to it, he would
have no choice.
Talking to Angie that night had been like a breath of fresh air. Her amazing
eyes had sparkled with life and her smile had captivated him. Their friends had
seen what was happening and melted into the background, giving them ample space
to get to know each other. They had exchanged phone numbers that night. Two and
a half years later, newly graduated Maksym moved to the small city of Beacon
Hills with Angie, now collared and heavily pregnant. He joined the sheriff's
department as a fresh faced young deputy, having given up the idea of working
vice in the big city without regret the night he had arrived home to Angie,
kneeling by the door with a tearful smile of joy and test results from the
doctor's office that confirmed they were going to be parents.
Their son had been born on a rainy day in April. He had come into the world
screaming, waving his arms and kicking his feet wildly. When a nurse had thrust
the wriggling bundle into his arms, Maks had just stared at him in awe, unable
to believe he had a part in something so exquisitely perfect. He had dropped to
his knees at the bedside, much to Angie's discomfited amusement, and had kissed
her tenderly, whispering words of praise and love to the woman who had just
presented him with a beautiful son. They named him Aurélien, meaning "golden,"
after her father. When the blood test returned indicating their son was a
submissive, Angie had cuddled him close and declared that she was the luckiest
woman in the world, to have such a loving Dom and her own little submissive to
raise and adore.
God, he had loved her so much. Losing her had been a blow he still hadn't
recovered from. Not a day went by that his soul didn't weep for her, didn't
call for its missing half. Stiles was so much like her, the same gorgeous eyes
and full mouth, the same joie de vivre. Angie had loved both of them with every
fiber of her being. She had been an incredible mother, always patient and
loving. When Stiles had been a baby she had laughingly nicknamed him Ptaszek,
which meant little bird, because he was always open mouthed and hungry. As he
grew, she deemed the nickname still appropriate, since he chattered constantly.
She understood Stiles in ways that his Dominant father sometimes couldn't. The
two of them had been thick as thieves, and her illness had definitely taken its
toll on Stiles. He had become nervous and withdrawn, prone to anxiety and panic
attacks. When Angie passed away, Maks had nearly lost his mind with grief. He
would forever be grateful to the Martins for helping so much with Stiles during
that time, because he had been adrift without her to anchor him, barely able
take care of himself, much less his frightened young son who was also grieving.
Angie's death had marked a significant change in Stiles as well. He had come to
him after her funeral and dropped to his knees, lips quivering with unreleased
sobs but determined to make a request of his Dom father. He had asked at that
time to no longer be called Ptaszek and to be able to go by his school nickname
of Stiles, rather than Aurélien. Maks understood his son's need to keep those
links to his mother separate and private, and gave his consent. When Stiles
selected a bird for his tattoo when he reached his maturity, Maks had been an
emotional mess internally, though he had allowed only fierce paternal pride to
be displayed.
He had known this day would come, the day where he would have to let his son
go. In that moment, he missed Angie more than ever. They were supposed to do
this together; watch with pride as their boy left them and entered into his
first claim, and then weep over it in private, that their baby boy had grown
into such a young man and was starting a life that didn't fully include them.
Having Peter Hale request his presence at his home a few weeks ago was unusual.
Maks had been more than a little curious about the 'urgent matter' that
required his assistance, especially when it was emphasized that it wasn't in
his capacity as Sheriff. He had gone to the Hale estate in his own vehicle and
dressed in street clothes. The door had been answered by a service submissive
that had ushered him into Peter's private study, where the Alpha had been
waiting for him.
Maks had assumed that Peter's purpose in calling him had something to do with
Stiles, either with his schooling or some sort of disciplinary problem. There
had already been an eventful conference with Dom Finstock over a term paper
Stiles had done about achieving subspace while being bound and blindfolded. By
Finstock's own admission, the paper was brilliant and well written. However,
the assignment was for English class and had been to write about the symbolism
in To Kill A Mockingbird, and Stiles had started off writing that justice was
supposed to be blind and devolved from there. He had steeled himself for
another such conversation, but it turned out Peter wanted to talk to him about
Stiles for reasons he had never imagined even in his wildest speculations.
"My nephew is shortly to return home from New York, Sheriff Stilinski. I'm sure
you remember Derek?"
Maks remembered vividly the night of the Hale fire, remembered watching
helplessly as the flames licked high in the night sky, knowing there had been a
family inside unable to get out. He had been there as paramedics had bundled a
hysterically weeping Laura and Derek, dry-eyed with shock, into an ambulance to
take them to the hospital.
Interviewing the teens afterward had been a harrowing job, especially when
details came to light concerning young Derek and Kate Argent, daughter of
Gerard Argent, prolific Hunter and werewolf hater. Kate was a Domme who was
several years older than Derek and had used trickery and seduction to
manipulate the un-tattooed boy into a clandestine relationship, all to learn
details of the prominent Hale family in order to be able to destroy them.
Kate's arrest and trial had been full of scandal and intrigue. Only the
combined efforts and money of the Hale and Argent families had kept it from
becoming a nationwide media sensation. Maks had to testify his department's
findings; that Kate, a mature Domme, had colored over her red tattoo with
temporary black in order to appear as a submissive. She had enticed underage
Derek by telling him she was afraid of her Dominant father and promised that as
soon as he was tattooed he could claim her and they would be together. Using
sex and empty assurances to play mind games with Derek, she was soon able to
gather enough information about the Hales to carry out her murderous plan. She
had coerced a young submissive named Matt Daehler into helping her, promising
to claim him after he proved his worth to her but intending all along to
implicate him to where he would ultimately take the fall. They had created a
barrier of wolfsbane around the house that trapped the werewolves inside, but
when it came to setting the house alight, Matt had second thoughts and balked.
Kate ruthlessly pushed him aside and set the house on fire herself. Eight Hale
family members had died in the resulting deadly fire and explosion; Laura and
Derek had only survived because they'd been at school for a football game.
Matt, soon realizing that Kate had been playing him all along, had turned
state's evidence for a lighter sentence and had testified against her. He had
given details on her plan to bring down the Hale family for no reason other
than blind hatred. Maks had watched Kate closely during the trial. She had sat
there, looking almost bored most of the time, giving no indication of any sort
of remorse. The only emotion she showed was a cold smile when photos of the
crime scene were projected on the screen for the jury to see. It had chilled
his blood.
When the jury returned with a guilty verdict, no one was surprised. The
sentence of life in prison, which still seemed a bit light to many, considering
the number of lives taken in cold blood, garnered cheers of approval from all
except the small faction of extremist hunters that supported her actions.
Laura and Derek had been whisked away as soon as their testimonies were over,
sent to New York to live under the protection of one of the large packs
residing there and to get away from prying eyes and gossiping tongues. Laura
had returned several months prior and had moved into Peter's large estate home.
She'd soon begun working with him at the school, and Maks had heard she was
being groomed as both the next Headmistress of the school and the next Alpha
for whenever Peter decided to step aside.
"Of course I remember him. I hope he's doing well?" he asked Peter politely.
Peter had shaken his head. "I wish I could say he was, but sadly that isn't the
case. He's still haunted by the past, I'm afraid, and has been reluctant to
take on his own submissive."
Maks raised an eyebrow, wondering what exactly Peter was getting at. "I suppose
that isn't too surprising, given what happened to him. That's not something one
easily recovers from. Is he at risk of going feral?" That might explain why
Peter wanted him aware that Derek was coming home. A human Dominant would
suffer debilitating headaches if they neglected their nature, while a
submissive would become ill to the point of painful cramping, nausea and
hallucinations. For werewolves, it was even worse, as the wolf part of them
would overtake their human side. A feral werewolf had to be dealt with swiftly
and carefully.
"No, no, of course not." Peter looked horrified at the idea that a member of
his family was not in control of themselves. "He at least had sense enough to
go to Sub Clubs to tend to his needs. No, Maks...do you mind if I call you
that?" At Maks' short nod, Peter continued, "I assure you, he is in no danger
of going feral. That's not why I called you here at all."
Peter paused dramatically and Maks crossed his arms as he waited. After a
moment, he grew impatient. "Well?" he demanded. "I know I'm here unofficially
and off duty, but my time is valuable, Alpha Hale. I'd appreciate you getting
to the point."
Instead of answering right away, Peter regarded him with a contemplative eye.
Finally, just as Maks was about to demand Peter get to the point or else he was
leaving, Peter abruptly changed the subject. "Your son doesn't have a
Dominant." It was a statement, rather than a question.
"What does Stiles have to do with any of this?" Maks asked in confusion. He
knew that as Headmaster of the school, Peter was fully aware that Stiles was as
yet unclaimed.
Peter's eyes gleamed, a quick flash of red that was gone as quickly as it came.
He smiled slowly and said, "I have a proposal for you. And please, call me
Peter..."
At first Maks had met Peter's suggestion that Derek claim Stiles as his
submissive with a sense of disbelief. Of all scenarios he had envisioned for
Stiles entering his first claim, getting involved with a werewolf, much less a
Hale and, even less, Derek Hale, had never crossed his mind. But the more he
thought about it, the more he found himself actually rather liking the idea,
much to his surprise. After all, he had no doubt that Stiles becoming part of
the Alpha's household would afford him a certain amount of prestige among the
citizens of Beacon Hill, not to mention the protection it would offer him. He
could certainly do far worse for his first claim. After accidentally finding
Stiles' porn folder on his computer, Maks had a feeling that Stiles was rather
unlikely to object to a male Dom, not that it bothered him in the slightest.
His main concern was what was best for his son.
Maks remembered well the vulnerable young wolf he had worked with in the
aftermath of the fatal fire. No one deserved to have that happen to them. Derek
Hale had been a good kid who had been caught up in a bad situation and dealt a
devastating blow, and Maks wasn't in the least surprised that he was still
struggling with the ramifications of his past.
The sound of the door slamming signaled Stiles' arrival home and brought Maks
out of his deep thoughts. He replaced Angie's collar in the special box he'd
had made for their first anniversary and put it back on the top shelf of his
closet.
"Dad?"
"I'm up here, Stiles," Maks called back. The sound of Stiles' feet on the
stairs grew louder as he neared the top. He looked at himself in the full-
length mirror that hung on the inside of the closet door and took a deep
breath.It was time.
The door burst open as Stiles breathlessly entered. "Hey, Dad, I wanted to-"
"Knees, Aurélien," Maks commanded quietly, motioning to a kneeling pillow he'd
placed in the center of his bedroom. He watched silently as Stiles froze
momentarily, his mouth open and his eyes widened in surprise before he hastened
to obey. It was rare for him to make Stiles kneel for anything, rarer still for
him to use his given name, but this was an important matter they needed to
discuss.
"Is this about getting corner time in Dom Harris' class?" Stiles asked
tentatively, "Because in my own defense, it was Scott's idea. I mean, it was my
idea, but it was Scott's idea to try it in class and we-"
Maks held up a hand to indicate for Stiles to be quiet. "It isn't about that,
Stiles, although I'm sure we'll be discussing that at a later time. I've spoken
to Peter Hale and I-"
Stiles interrupted him. "Wait, Dad, about that, I wasn't trying to sass the
Headmaster, honestly, it just slipped out, and Lydia was right there to
reprimand me so if it's just the same-"
"Hold on, you're telling me you sassed the Alpha?" Maks had to fight to keep a
grin from sneaking across his face. He had told Peter that, while it was true
Stiles excelled at his submission classes, he was no shrinking submissive,
ready to capitulate to just any Dominant.
A look of panic crossed Stiles' face. "Well, I-"
Maks shook his head and sighed. "Nevermind, Stiles. We'll talk about that later
as well. Now," he said, letting command re-enter his voice, "I expect you to be
quiet and let me speak. Don't say anything unless I ask you to. Nod if you
understand."
When Stiles nodded his head, Maks smiled at him. "Good boy. As I was saying, I
have spoken to Peter Hale recently. His nephew Derek is returning home from New
York. I'm sure you don't remember, since you were young when it happened, but
Derek lost most of his family in a terrible fire. He's been living in New York,
but he has come back to work with his uncle."
Maks gave Stiles a significant look. "I know you've been feeling a bit left out
as of late with your friends, what with Lydia taking on her two submissives and
Scott getting himself claimed by the Argent girl." Privately, Maks wondered if
Peter had informed Derek that the niece of the woman convicted of murdering his
family was not only enrolled as a student at the Academy, but also the Domme of
one of Stiles' best friends. He had his suspicions that conversation might not
have occurred yet and made a mental note to ask Peter about it. When that
conversation happened, he wouldn't want Stiles anywhere near the vicinity.
"You haven't complained, but I know you, Stiles. It's tough when your friends
are involved in things in their own lives that don't include you, especially
when it seems you are the only one who doesn't have anything going on. But
you've done well in school; I'm so proud of your excellent grades and that you
are playing lacrosse on the submissive's team. I'm not the only one who's
noticed either," Maks stated.
Stiles stared at him curiously, wriggling slightly on his knees in an effort to
stay silent. Maks pressed onward.
"The Headmaster asked me to come see him recently to talk to him about Derek.
About Derek and you, in particular. He asked me for permission to have Derek
claim you."
"What?" Stiles yelped, falling off the pillow as his whole body jerked in
surprise, losing his battle to stay obediently silent. He quickly righted
himself to kneel on the pillow again but continued to look at his father with
stunned disbelief.
"It's okay, Stiles," Maks hurried to reassure him, thinking Stiles' reaction
was maybe a nervous reaction. "The choice is still yours. I made sure of that.
I also made sure that if you don't want Derek to be your first Dom, there will
be no repercussions at school."
Stiles shook his head, looking a little dazed. "No, Dad, that's not it at all.
I just-we met him today, the headmaster brought him to our table and I had no
idea. No clue who he was or anything."
Maks smiled at his flustered son. "Well, I wouldn't worry too much about it.
What did you think? Do you think you could submit to Derek? I think it could be
a good first claim for you, but I want you to be comfortable with your Dom. A
Hale claiming you would be considered a big thing around town, but if you don't
think you'd be happy then I'll just tell them tonight to forget about it. Your
happiness and well being are what's important to me, not what other people
think."
"Jesus, Dad, have you seen him?" Stiles asked, gesturing with both arms.
Maks frowned. "Well, not recently. Not since he was a kid about your age. Is
there something wrong? It's not a problem that he's a male dominant, right?"
Stiles shook his head vehemently. "Oh, god, no. I'm fine with that. He's just
freakin' hot. Gloriously so."
"Okay? And that's a good thing, right?" Maks wanted to be sure he understood.
"Will you be willing to accept his claim? That means you'll be agreeing to
submit to him. They're coming tonight to make you a formal offer. If you agree
then we'll make arrangements to meet with the magistrate to enter into the
claim. You'll be going with him to live at the Hale estate. There will be a
contract drawn up and everything. Is this what you want? Talk to me, Stiles."
"Lydia's never going to let me live this down," Stiles said distractedly, still
looking dazed.
Maks frowned in concern. He knew at one point Stiles had carried a torch for
Lydia, but he thought that phase had passed. "What's Lydia got to do with
this?"
Stiles shook his head, giving a short, unbelieving laugh. "Oh, nothing really,
just that she's once again proven right. She's always right, you know."
"O-o-okay," Maks said, deciding not to ask what Stiles meant, "as long as
you're sure, then when they get here tonight I'll give my permission for the
claim to happen. We'll need to make an appointment with Deaton, the magistrate,
to meet with the two of you along with the Alpha to make it a formal deal.
After that it's a matter of you getting your cuffs and setting up your
contract. Derek's had some serious heartache in his past, son. He's been
hesitant to claim a sub, but now he's finally ready to do so, and the person
he's choosing is you. This is what you want?"
Stiles swallowed nervously but nodded his head. "Yeah, Dad. I'll do it. I'll
take the claim."
Maks smiled at Stiles, though it was a little sad. "Alright then. On your feet,
son. Come give me a hug." He opened his arms for Stiles to step into and held
him tightly, knowing the boy he held would soon cease to exist and in his place
would be a young man. "I wish your mother were here to see this. She would have
been so happy and proud."
Stiles gave a little sniffle and protested, "Dad, I can't officially meet my
new Dom looking like I've been crying. He'll get the wrong idea." He laid his
head on his father's shoulder and sighed. "I miss her so much, Dad. I wish she
was here, too."
They stood there quietly holding each other for a moment, each lost in their
own thoughts. Maks gave Stiles a final squeeze and pushed him back gently.
"Alright. They'll be here in a few hours, so we need to get ready. I put some
nice steaks in some marinade earlier, so they should be ready for the grill
before too long. And don't give me that look," he said sternly, seeing Stiles'
disapproving glance. "I work hard, I can have a steak from time to time.
Besides, we're hosting werewolves tonight, important ones at that, and I'm not
about to insult them with vegetarian cuisine."
"Could've done chicken," mumbled Stiles in protest.
Maks shook his head fondly. "Nothing but the best for your new Dom, my boy. So
let's get a move on. Times a-wastin'. I'm going to go start the grill. There
are baking potatoes next to the sink, I want you to clean them and get them
ready to cook. There's also stuff in the fridge for a salad, so your need for
vegetables is met. I figure you can make some sort of dessert and that should
do. Sound like a plan?"
Stiles nodded. "Okay, I'll go get started. I might as well call Lydia while I'm
working and let her start congratulating herself." He ran a hand through his
hair and sighed. "She said there was a reason Headmaster had brought Derek to
our table today. She had a feeling there was something about the way he looked
at me and how he looked at her for touching me. I thought she was crazy."
Knowing how possessive wolf Doms could be, Maks wasn't surprised that the
perceptive Lydia had caught onto Derek. There was no way Peter hadn't smugly
told Derek in advance just who he was taking him to see. It would be
interesting to see how that dynamic worked out. Although there had never been
any claim or intent to claim, Lydia had been subconsciously domming Stiles for
years, even when they were children and didn't know any better. She was
fiercely protective of him and would hardly be the type to back down if she
felt she was in the right where Stiles was concerned. He just hoped the two
Dominants would manage to get along and not cause Stiles to feel conflicted
between them. He gave Stiles a squeeze on the shoulder and went to prepare the
grill.
Stiles stood there for a moment, then slowly went down the hall to his bedroom.
He walked in and shut the door, looking around briefly. For some reason, it
seemed surreal, like there should be something different about it. Yet it was
still the same; somewhat cluttered, bed unmade and clothes tossed in the
vicinity of the hamper rather than in it, soda cans and empty Cheetos and
Doritos bags littering the computer desk. He wondered if he had time to clean
any before starting his part of dinner, then decided against it. Claim or not,
it was hardly likely his dad would let him bring Derek into his room. Not that
they would do...what? Anything? Stiles felt his cheeks grow hot at the thought
of kneeling before his Dom, but he refused to let his mind wander further. He'd
watched his fair share of porn, probably more than might be good for him, but
hey, he'd done his research. The last thing he had wanted was to embarrass
himself once he was finally claimed. Stiles firmly believed in being prepared
for anything, so of course he had watched both straight and gay porn. For
science. And reasons.
But he didn't need to be getting distracted and he definitely didn't have time
for Stiles time, because his Dom was coming over tonight and...
Holy shit, his DOM was coming over tonight!
Stiles grabbed his cellphone out of his bag and unlocked the screen. He
hurriedly hit the button to call Lydia, mentally denying the fact that his
hands shook ever so slightly.
C'mon, Lyds, pick up, pick up...
"Stiles?" answered Lydia, sounding just a little distracted.
"Oh my god, Lyds, you were right, you were so right," gasped out Stiles.
"Of course I was right," Lydia said smugly, then, "Wait, about what? What am I
right about now?"
"My dad just told me that he and the headmaster have an agreement and Derek
Hale, smokin' hot, supermodel, direct descendant of the gods Derek Hale is
going to be my Dom, and Jesus Christ, Lydia, I'm gonna have a heart attack
right now," Stiles panted as his anxiety threatened to overtake him.
"Breathe, Stiles," Lydia said sharply. She listened for a moment for his
breathing to regulate as he automatically complied. "In, out, and again. Yes,
good boy, that's better." She paused for a moment before letting out a slightly
wicked sounding giggle. "Is this where I say I told you so?"
"How is it you're always right?" grumbled Stiles, feeling better now that his
heartbeat had slowed back down.
"Darling, you should know by now that I'm rarely wrong, especially when it
comes to men and what they want," Lydia said flippantly. "Now, I don't mean to
cut this short, but I have my boys playing right now and I need to get back to
them. I'm rewarding Jackson for making lacrosse captain."
"You're letting him Dom Danny?" Stiles squawked in surprise.
"They're playing," Lydia corrected. "Like what Erica was saying at lunch today.
I saw how Danny reacted and knew he would be interested. Besides, it pleases me
to please them, and they are awfully pretty together. So if you'll excuse me, I
do need to go. You should call Scott. He missed out on all this today, and you
know if you don't tell him until after the fact he'll have his feelings hurt
and walk around for days with that kicked puppy look. Gotta go, bye!"
The line went dead as she ended the call without giving Stiles the chance to
say anything else. Stiles stared bemusedly at his phone for a moment, blown
away as always by the whirlwind that was Lydia Martin. She was right, though,
he needed to call Scott and fill him in. As a fellow submissive, Scott could
probably relate more to the mixture of excitement and apprehension that came
with being claimed. God knew Stiles had listened to Scott for what seemed like
endless hours when Allison first started at Hale Academy and became the Domme
of Scott's dreams. He wasn't sure who had been more relieved when Allison
claimed Scott: Scott or himself.
Stiles checked the time and decided that unless he wanted to end up making
their dinner late, hardly the impression he wanted to make, he would have to
call Scott while working in the kitchen. He dialed and held the phone to his
ear as he quickly made his way down the stairs, stumbling and missing the
bottom one completely in his haste but somehow managing to stay upright and
still holding his phone.
"Hey, Stiles!" Scott cheerfully greeted when he picked up. "What's up?"
"Hey. Can you talk?" Stiles asked as he started running water in the sink to
scrub the potatoes his dad had indicated earlier. He pulled out the tinfoil and
some sea salt and olive oil, deciding he would prepare them for baking while
talking to Scott.
"Sure. Allison's not in right now, she and her dad are training. Luckily, her
mom decided to go along and watch them. I know the fact I'm a wolf doesn't sit
so well with them, but her dad's just intimidating. Her mom, on the other hand,
looks at me like she could imagine nothing more pleasurable than flaying me
alive. That woman is one terrifying Domme," Scott said in a near whisper, as
though the Argents were the ones with the enhanced senses and might overhear
him somehow.
Stiles winced in sympathy. When the well known hunter clan found out their
darling Allison fully intended to claim a wolf submissive, there had been
heated arguments among them. Victoria in particular had been horrified by what
people would think. Allison, having been raised as a strong Domme that expected
to be accommodated and obeyed, would not be swayed, and Chris and Victoria
reluctantly welcomed Scott into their home as their daughter's submissive.
While Peter Hale was more than a little intimidating, both as a Dom and the
Alpha wolf, at least Stiles could take comfort in the fact that Peter didn't
actively dislike him.
"I can imagine," Stiles said sympathetically. "So, did you get in a lot of
trouble today? You guys never did come to the group lounge for free period."
"You know how it is when Allison punishes me. She makes sure to let me know how
disappointed she is, which is the absolute worst, because I hate that, I just
want to please her, you know? But then she makes me go with her to Dom Harris'
class. I think she's going to make me apologize or something, which would have
sucked enough, because he's such a dick, right? But no. She makes me sit in a
desk and watch while she goes to the board and writes 'I will not allow my
submissive to misbehave in class' 500 times. Like she's being punished instead
for something I did. I realized what she was doing right away and I begged her
to let me do it. But she just ignored me and didn't say a word, which freakin'
sucks. She wouldn't let me write, wouldn't let me do it for her. By the time
she was finished, I swear, I had nearly died," lamented Scott.
"That's rough, buddy," Stiles commiserated, feeling his own guilt for his part
in Scott's punishment. Not being allowed to serve their Dom was guaranteed to
get to a sub, making them feel even more guilty for having disappointed,
especially when they had to watch their Dom do something in their place. But
being ignored by their Dom was even worse. Stiles hoped he never made Derek
angry enough to ignore him.
"It's okay," Scott said cheerfully. "When she was finished she let me kneel for
her, and she petted me and told me she forgave me but expected me to behave in
class, that it wasn't right to cause a distraction and keep others from
learning. So I'm okay. She's the perfect Domme, you know?"
"You've mentioned it before," Stiles said dryly, having heard such a sentiment
from his friend numerous times. "So listen, since you weren't with us during
free time you missed meeting the Headmaster's nephew, Derek Hale."
"Yeah?" asked Scott, not sounding terribly interested.
"Yeah," answered Stiles, rolling his eyes. He loved Scott, but his friend was
decidedly Allison-centric at times, and if it wasn't in some way related to her
he tended to not pay attention. "You could be a little more enthusiastic here,
best buddy old pal, seeing as this is your future brother-from-another-mother-
in-law we're discussing here," he said, fighting back a slightly hysterical
laugh as he anticipated Scott's reaction. He waited for a moment for Scott to
realize what he had said, nearly ready to repeat himself when he heard Scott's
choked intake of air.
"Wait, what?" sputtered Scott. "You want to be claimed by the Alpha's nephew?
Are you crazy?"
"What's so crazy about it? You weren't even there, you haven't seen this guy.
Besides, how does that make me crazy? Don't I deserve to be claimed by a good
Dom?" Stiles reasoned, trying to keep the slight hurt out of his voice and not
succeeding. "It's actually happening, by the way, not just my wishful thinking.
Headmaster talked to my dad about it, and they're coming over tonight for
dinner and to discuss the claim. You could at least be happy for me, Scott, I
would've thought that you of all people might be."
"Sorry," Scott said meekly. "You just caught me off guard. Of course you
deserve a great Dom, the best. Are you sure he's it, though? I mean, you don't
even know this guy. What do you know about him besides who his uncle is and
that he's got a pretty face? What if he's an asshole?"
Stiles wasn't sure exactly how to answer. Scott had wanted to belong to Allison
almost from the moment he'd given her a pen in a class they shared. They'd had
a definite connection. How could he make Scott understand that the idea of
kneeling and submitting to Derek seemed right somehow, when he didn't really
understand it himself? "Do you really think my dad would agree to let me go to
someone who was an asshole?" he parried instead.
"You're right," agreed Scott, sounding relieved. "Your dad would never do that.
So, hey, wow! This is actually happening! Your first claim. By one of the Hales
at that! Practically royalty now, huh? How do you feel?"
"Truthfully? I think I'm freaking out just a little," Stiles confessed as he
finished scrubbing the potatoes and started tearing off tinfoil to wrap them in
once he'd coated them in olive oil and salted them. "Like I said, you didn't
see this guy. He's super hot, you have no idea. He could get any submissive he
wanted. We're talking they would probably fight each other for the chance to
get with him. Yet here he is, choosing me. What if he regrets it? What if I'm
not good enough?"
"What are you talking about? Of course you're good enough. He's lucky to be
getting you," Scott declared loyally. "I get it, that he's hot, but let's be
real, you aren't so bad yourself, not that I look at you like that, but I get
why someone else would. You're one of the top submissives in school, everyone
knows that. No wonder the Alpha likes the match, nothing but the best for his
family, right? Since he's your first Dom, he'll get all your firsts, you know?
He gets to train you just how he likes. For some Doms that's supposed to be a
big deal."
Stiles knew Scott was trying to make him feel better, but instead he was
suddenly feeling more nervous at the thought of doing anything with Derek.
"He'll be able to tell I have no clue what I'm doing, Scott. I've never done
anything with anyone, all I know I learned on the Internet and by watching
porn. He's either going to die laughing at me or kick me out and wonder why he
bothered taking on a sub no one else wanted," Stiles worried as he poked holes
in the wrapped potatoes with a fork.
"Don't be stupid," retorted Scott. "If he's anything like the Alpha it'll
probably give him a huge ego boost to be the one who gets to do things to you.
At least now you can quit complaining that you've never seen nudity in real
life except for the locker room."
"Hey, everyone knows that doesn't actually count. Besides, I saw Jessa Meyer's
boob at the pool once!" argued Stiles defensively.
"Really? You never mentioned it. How'd you manage that?" asked Scott, sounding
betrayed that this was the first time he'd heard this. "She showed you?"
"Not exactly. She was at the deep end and her suit had slipped. I don't think
she noticed," Stiles soothed, trying to placate him.
"So it was just there hanging out by itself? Did it float?" Scott asked,
sounding fascinated.
"I don't know, sort of, I guess? You've never asked Allison or looked at hers
in the water before?" Stiles questioned, wondering why it mattered.
"My dick floats," Scott laughed.
"Gee, Scott, let me call the local news. There's probably time to get you a
feature on the late showing," Stiles shot back sarcastically.
"Doesn't yours?" asked Scott, still laughing.
"Dude, how are we even discussing this? I take showers. Showers are nice for
Stiles time, which I happen to enjoy. As often as I can. I promise, if I ever
find out, you'll be the first person to know," Stiles threatened, only half
joking. He had to hand it to Scott, though, he was feeling a bit more relaxed
now.
"I bet you say that to all the boys," Scott teased. "But listen, I need to go.
I just heard the garage door opening, which means Allison's back from training.
I'm going to go run her a hot bath and get her bed ready. If I'm lucky, maybe
she'll let me massage her tonight. I'd say break a leg, but I'd be afraid you'd
actually do it. So good luck, yeah?"
"Gee, thanks, Scott, nothing like the confidence of your best friend to give
you that calming little boost," Stiles snarked.
"Dude, you're worrying for nothing. He's going to love you. You got this, okay?
We'll talk later and you can give me all the dirty details. Go get him, tiger!"
and Scott hung up.
Stiles put his phone down and wondered briefly about his choice in friends and
what that said about him as a person. He arranged the potatoes in a foil pan
and took them outside to his dad to be grilled, then returned to the kitchen to
mix together a large bowl of salad and try to figure out something for dessert.
He could so do this.
Deciding on his mother's chocolate lava cake recipe, Stiles set the oven to
preheat and deftly mixed together the ingredients. He prepared them in the
ramekins that Angie had always insisted made the cakes taste the best. Stiles
popped them in the oven and set the timer on his phone. He decided he had just
enough time to shower and change before they were ready, so he headed back
upstairs to do so.
If he jerked off in the shower to thoughts of Derek Hale whispering words of
praise to him while he sucked his cock, well, it was no one's business but his
own.
===============================================================================
Derek paced his room pensively. He had rearranged his closet (twice) to make
room for anything Stiles might want or need to hang up and had emptied half of
the drawers in the dresser to accommodate for Stiles' things. A service
submissive had already stripped his king sized bed and replaced all the bedding
with clean linens. The sheets were the soft and luxurious high thread count
that Derek preferred, and the comforter was plush and lightweight. Extra
pillows were piled on the bed and Derek hoped it looked cozy and inviting. He
sat on the bed and bounced, testing the springiness of the mattress, idly
wondering if Stiles would find it comfortable and finding himself really,
reallyhoping so.
There was a perfunctory knock on the door and Laura burst in without waiting
for an answer. "There you are! I've been looking all over for you. If I didn't
know any better I'd think you were avoiding me." She softly shut the door
behind her and rushed across his room, stopping in front of him to stare at him
with wide eyes.
"What are you talk-what the hell are you doing?" barked Derek, his whole body
jerking in surprise as his sister, the next Alpha and a Domme in her own right
with a soon to be collared submissive, dropped to her knees in front of him.
Laura looked at him, her normally mischievous and sparkling eyes now wide and
pleading as she took his hands in her own. "Is it true? Please say it's real
and not just Peter trying to mess with my head with his twisted sense of
humor."
"What are you going on about? Get up," hissed Derek, growing more uncomfortable
each moment she knelt before him. He pulled his hands out of her grasp and slid
over, patting his bed to indicate for her to sit next to him.
Laura rose to her feet with a fluid grace that even Peter admitted he sometimes
envied and sat down on the proffered spot. She eyed Derek's face, looking at it
as though she could discover any secrets he might be hiding if she concentrated
hard enough. She took a deep breath and released it on a soft sigh.
"Peter says you're finally taking a submissive, Der. Actually claiming one, not
just hitting up the clubs again. Is it true?" Laura asked gently as she
continued to stare at him searchingly.
Derek swallowed heavily. There were times Laura reminded him so much of their
mother it was almost painful. He scowled at her to cover up his emotions and
keep them at bay. "It's not like it's a big deal, Lola. Peter arranged the
whole deal with the Sheriff beforehand. I take on his kid as a sub and they
have some sort of business partnership arrangement after that."
"Not a big deal?" Laura retorted. "Are you joking? This is huge! This is the
first time you've taken a real submissive. You're finally letting go of the
past and not letting that bitch keep a hold on you even from her prison cell. I
know you, Derek. You've wouldn't do something you didn't want to do, no matter
how much Peter stomped and snarled you'd have found a way out if you wanted
to." She stopped and narrowed her eyes at him suspiciously. "You would, right?
Peter didn't blackmail you into this or anything? Don't get me wrong, I want
you to have a true sub, but only if you want it. If you're doing this under
duress, I'll have your back with Peter. You know that." She ran her hands
through her long, dark hair and huffed in frustration. "I don't know what I'm
saying here. I feel like I'm contradicting myself."
Derek smiled grimly at her. "He didn't really give me any choice. It was The
Alpha that informed me I'd be taking on the Stilinski kid as a submissive. You
know that means it's final or else."
Laura stared at him. "Did you say Stilinski? You're getting Stiles Stilinski as
a submissive?" A huge smile broke over her face. "But, Der, that's awesome!
He's one of the best submissives in the school, smart, a bit on the sassy side,
maybe, but it just adds to his charm if you ask me. Oh, and he's so adorable it
should honestly be illegal. Just wait until you see him!"
"I already have," Derek confessed, almost reluctantly but unable to keep the
truth from her. "Peter took me to see him at the school."
Laura studied him for a moment, then her smile became a wicked grin. "You liked
him, didn't you?" she crowed triumphantly. "That's why you aren't fighting
Peter on this, Alpha decree or no. You'd have found a way out of it somehow if
you didn't really want it, even if it meant getting your ass handed to you by
Peter for insubordination." She laughed delightedly.
"Shut up," grumbled Derek irritably. He was a grown man, he hated when Laura
somehow managed to make him feel like an awkward teenager. So what if she was
absolutely right? There was something about Stiles Stilinski that captured his
interest and made his wolf pace in anticipation. The thought of having him in
his bed, awaiting the pleasures he could show him made Derek's mouth go dry and
his body burn with a need that he'd never felt before with any other
submissive.
"Oh, no, I am going to enjoy this, you have absolutely no idea. I can't wait to
welcome him to the family. I know! I should get him a nice gift basket filled
with toys and things!" Laura grinned when Derek bared his teeth and growled at
her. "Ohhhhhh, possessive already, are we, little brother? Don't want anyone
spoiling your submissive but you?"
Derek fought back a blush, hating that Laura knew exactly how to get to him.
She really was world's worst tease. "You have your own submissive to pamper,"
he said instead, refusing to directly acknowledge her comment.
"True," Laura beamed happily. "Boyd is amazing, so gorgeous when he submits.
You should know, though," she continued wickedly, "Stiles isn't the top
submissive student for nothing. He kneels quite prettily, if I do say so
myself. And those incredible eyes of his, they just shine with perfect
submission when he's being put through his paces. He seems to have quite the
affinity for endurance, it seems. Oh, and don't forget that gorgeous mouth of
his. I don't know which would be better, to see those pretty lips stretched
around a gag or to listen to every plea he made while pushing him to his
limit."
Derek glowered at her, fighting back another growl and refusing to let his mind
conjure up the images her words created. "You're a horrible person," he
snapped.
"I know," Laura agreed as she shrugged nonchalantly. "It keeps me awake at
night. Seriously, though, Derek," she said earnestly, "I really am happy for
you. I honestly was afraid you would keep on punishing yourself for what
happened. Don't you know that by keeping yourself from claiming a true
submissive and giving yourself the chance to be happy, you've been letting her
win all this time?"
Derek looked at the floor, unable to meet her eyes. "It doesn't matter, Lola.
No matter which way you look at things, it was my fault."
"You were a kid, Derek. She knew just how to get to you and make you dance to
her tune. What happened was terrible, nothing changes that, but you're still
here, you're still alive. Mom and Dad wouldn't have wanted you torturing
yourself." Laura reached out and cupped Derek's cheek in his hand. "I know
they'd be really happy for you right now," she said softly. "You have a real
chance for true happiness here, Der. Don't let her ruin it for you. She's in
prison, paying her dues. Just let her rot there."
They sat quietly for a moment, both lost in their own thoughts and memories of
the past. A soft knock on the door startled them both back to the present.
"Come in," Derek said loud enough for whomever it was to hear. The door opened
and one of the household service subs stepped in, eyes downcast respectfully.
"If you please, Sir, Alpha Hale is requesting your presence in the study," he
said quietly. "Shall I inform him you'll join him momentarily?"
"Go ahead. Might as well get this over with," Derek groused. "Thank you,
that'll be all," he waved a hand in dismissal to send the submissive on his
way.
Laura stood up and tugged him to his feet. "Be excited, Der! You're going to
get your submissive!" She then looked him over critically. "You're not wearing
that, are you?"
Derek looked down at his gray Henley and dark blue jeans. He frowned at Laura.
"What's wrong with what I'm wearing?"
"Do you think this is just some casual dinner you're going to?" demanded Laura.
"You're going to have dinner with the Sheriff at his house and declare your
intent to deflower his only child! Don't you think you should dress up just a
little for the occasion?"
"Good god, Laura, I'm not going to tell him I'm going to deflower his son, do I
look that stupid to you?" hissed Derek, glaring at her even as he moved to
comply with what she said. She did have an excellent point, of course, but
Derek would bathe in liquid wolfsbane before he admitted so to her out loud.
Laura glared right back at him. "The man is no idiot, Derek. He didn't get
elected by being a fool. He's a Dominant and he knows full well what you'll be
doing with his son. At least give him the comfort of thinking he's giving his
boy to a respectable Dom and not some miscreant that doesn't know how to dress
properly when the situation calls for it!" She shoved him to the side. "Move.
I'll help you so you don't screw this up."
"Fine," snapped Derek as he pulled his shirt off and threw it on the floor in a
display of petulant temper. Remembering he was bringing home a submissive
tonight, he growled low in the back of his throat and picked the shirt up to
toss it in the hamper in the corner instead.
Five minutes later Derek found himself dressed in a pair of khaki pants paired
with a shoulder-hugging light green sweater that Laura swore brought out his
eyes. Not that he cared about such a thing. Not really.
Okay, fine, maybe just a little.
"There," Laura said, sounding satisfied with her efforts. "Now you look a
little less like a biker and more like a respectable Dom." She put her hands on
her hips and studied him thoughtfully again for a moment. "Don't go anywhere,"
she ordered as she turned and stepped into his ensuite bathroom, returning
quickly and rubbing her hands together. "Now, hold still," she demanded as she
reached up and began running her hands through his hair, obviously styling it.
Derek tolerated her ministrations for a moment before snapping, "Hurry up,
would you?"
"Anxious, are we?" Laura teased. She stepped back to check out her handiwork
and nodded once. "You'll do. I rather wish you'd shaved, but maybe you'll get
lucky and Stiles is into the facial scruff." She turned him in the direction of
the door and gave him a little shove. "Go now. Don't keep the Alpha waiting. Go
get your boy. And leave the leather jacket here."
Derek walked to his door and took a deep, calming breath. He turned and grinned
at Laura, unable to resist one final parting shot. "Thanks. Oh, and if you're
nice, maybe I won't tell Boyd you think my submissive has a pretty mouth." He
closed the door behind him and smirked to himself in satisfaction when he heard
Laura yell, "Derek! You wouldn't dare!"
The closer he got to Peter's study, though, the more Derek's grin faded. He
shook his head in irritation with himself. It was as though there were dozens
of butterflies all aflutter in his stomach and his skin tingled from the tips
of his toes to the very roots of his hair. His wolf seemed to be pacing back
and forth just under the surface of his skin. It wasn't as though he was afraid
of Peter, so Derek couldn't understand why he felt so...nervous. What was it
about this boy, this human that had him so worked up? Derek was confident in
his abilities to dominate and please a submissive. He had been a popular patron
of the Sub Club in New York City, where he had been a regular. Word got around
that he was a highly desirable Dom and a generous and considerate lover. It was
no secret that the club submissives often argued amongst themselves over who
got to service him, and several had actually begged him to claim them after
their sessions. Whenever that happened, he would gently turn them down and then
quietly and discreetly arrange with the club to never be set up with that
submissive again.
So why was he now as nervous as a fresh faced boy about to try to dominate his
first sub? he wondered irritably.
Peter smiled smugly at him as he entered the study, doing little to improve
Derek's black mood. It was as though the bastard knew of his inner turmoil and
was amused by it.
"Oh, come now, Derek, what's with the sour face?" Peter chided. "You're either
going to frighten the boy to death or convince him that you're terminally
grumpy. I know how charming you're capable of being, put your game face on. Do
remember you have a protective father to win over tonight as well."
Derek glared back at his uncle, managing enough control of himself so as to not
growl at him in response. "May I remind you that this is all your doing and not
my own choice," he snapped.
Peter looked back at him serenely and completely unruffled by his temper. "And
may I remind you that when you set eyes on the boy for the first time I could
smell the pheromones practically coming off you in waves? Even Erica could
tell, though she is far too well mannered to say anything. You can complain and
deny all you like, Derek, but that doesn't change the irrefutable fact that you
want him. Badly, at that. So cease all this nonsense and kindly remember that,
as you are so fond of reminding me, you are, in fact, an adult."
Peter's lecture was interrupted by the intercom unit on his desk buzzing. He
leaned forward and pressed the talk button. "Yes?"
"The car you ordered is ready for you, Sir," came the reply.
"Excellent. Thank you, we'll be right there," Peter answered. He turned his
gaze back to Derek and narrowed his eyes. "It's time to go, Derek. Think about
it; your choices here can insure you future happiness or misery. It would be so
much more pleasant if you at least made the attempt to make the best of things.
You aren't the only one who'll be affected here."
The ride to the Stilinski house was a quiet one, with Peter casually reading
stock reports and Derek staring out the window in pensive silence. It was
strange, but it seemed that the closer in proximity to Stiles that he got, the
calmer he seemed to feel. As irritating as it was that Peter was yet again
right, Derek had to admit to himself that while he still was unable to
understand the effect this boy had on him, he did want him. The idea of anyone
else claiming him was completely intolerable and made his wolf want to howl
with rage. He wanted to possess him, every inch of him. He wanted to see him
kneeling at his feet, awaiting his command with breathless anticipation. He
wanted to taste the sweetness of those perfect pink lips. He wanted to hear the
sounds he would make as he was pushed to the edge and brought back again and
again. He wanted to cover his body with his own until he smelled like Derek's.
He wanted to mark that perfect skin so that there was no question who he
belonged to.
He would take his boy out to the finest places, dressed in the best fashions
and with both Derek's cuff adorning his wrist and Derek's mark on his neck. He
would show him off to the world, to be admired and, yes, desired, but only from
a distance, because Derek knew he wouldn't hesitate to swiftly and unmercifully
punish any challenge to him from any other Dominant. Did he dare hope for more,
hope that his boy would yearn for him in the same way? He wasn't sure yet, but
he was keenly aware that there was something about him that was changing Derek,
even before they officially met. It was both exhilarating and terrifying at the
same time.
When the car pulled up to the Stilinski house, Derek's initial dread had
instead become a sharp sense of nervous anticipation. Tonight he would be
bringing his boy home with him, and Derek promised himself he would make things
good for him. He was a mature Dom, he could handle a boy entering into his
first claim.
He would keep assuring himself of that until it finally sunk in.
The service submissive that was the driver of the car opened the door to let
Derek out. He had been so deep in his own thoughts that he hadn't noticed that
Peter had already gotten out and was standing on the sidewalk waiting for him
with an amused expression on his face. Derek scowled at him in response. He
followed Peter to the door, breathing quicker as anticipation caused his nerves
to go into full on attack mode and the butterflies that had been merely
fluttering in his belly earlier returned and began dive bombing instead.
"Relax," whispered Peter as he rang the doorbell. "You're going to end up
either vomiting or passing out, neither of which is the first impression you
want to make."
Derek didn't say anything in reply, just concentrated on regulating his
heartbeat to a normal level and took a brief moment to thank providence that
humans couldn't hear or smell emotions like wolves did. He could hear footsteps
approaching from inside the house and swallowed heavily to force back the
nervousness threatening his composure.
This was it. This was actually happening.
Chapter End Notes
     I can be found at my_Tumblr and I am currently in heavy Teen Wolf
     mode. Come play!
***** Chapter 3 *****
Chapter Notes
     First, I want to apologize for how long it took to update this. I
     struggled with writing this chapter and I lost count of the number of
     times I started, stopped, deleted, rewrote, cried...you get the idea.
     I hoped to get this posted sooner, but it needed some serious
     polishing up before it was ready. Also, many of you may know that I
     am also in the Glee fandom and we suffered a devastating blow this
     week when Cory Monteith was found dead, so writing took a back seat
     while my Glee family and I grieved together. Thank you all for your
     patience.
     Thanks goes to my darling beta Sies for doing her part in trying to
     keep me honest with POV changes and the like and for popping my hands
     when I needed it. Thanks also go to my beloved Shelley for
     cheerleading, talking me down from the ledge, reading over and making
     suggestions, talking me down from the ledge again, helping me figure
     my way out of a wet paper bag by giving implicit instructions, once
     again talking me down from the ledge, and for reminding me to have
     fun and for god's sake, get off the ledge...
     =====================================================================
See the end of the chapter for more notes
Derek swallowed heavily as the door swung open. Even though it had been several
years since since he'd last seen him in person Derek instantly recognized
Maksym Stilinski. The Sheriff's gentleness and understanding in the days
immediately following the fire, coupled with the integral part he had played in
Kate's prosecution had left a favorable impression on all the remaining members
of the Hale family, and Derek suddenly found himself wishing that he'd taken
the time back then to express his gratitude.
Now that they were meeting again under much different circumstances Derek
wanted to prove to Makysm that he was no longer the broken boy that no doubt
lived in Maksym's memories, but a fully competent Dom capable of providing and
caring for a submissive. The fact that the submissive in question happened to
be Maksym's own son and just happened to be in possession of the most sinful
mouth that Derek had ever seen was merely extra motivation for Derek to make a
favorable impression.
"Maks!" exclaimed Peter jovially, holding out a hand and greeting Maksym as if
they were old friends who had happened to run into one another in the frozen
food section of the grocery store as opposed to the head of their households
sitting down to discuss a contract that would alter the course of all their
lives.
Maksym Stilinski took the proffered hand and shook it. "Good to see you again,
Peter," he replied. His gaze moved to Derek and he eyed him shrewdly before
holding his hand out to him, "And here's Derek, all grown up now. Welcome
back."
"Thank you Sheriff," Derek said politely as they shook hands. It didn't escape
him that Maksym's grip was just bit tighter and he held on just a tad longer
than strictly necessary or that his pale green eyes seemed to look right
through him, the calculating assessment leaving Derek with the vaguely
horrifying thought Maksym was aware of each and every impure thought Derek had
already had about his son.
"Please, come in. Make yourselves comfortable." Maksym said as they entered
into the pleasantly worn looking living room. He motioned to the couch,
indicating for them to sit.
Peter sat easily, leaning back comfortably, while Derek bypassed the couch
altogether in favor of the plush armchair recliner that smelled strongly of
Maksym. He fought back a smirk as Maksym narrowed his eyes at him speculatively
from across the room. Peter looked as though he was fighting back laughter,
making Derek contemplate sprinkling wolfsbane powder in his silk robe later as
revenge for this whole situation.
"The steaks are ready. Stiles is putting the finishing touches on everything
and he'll call us when it's time to eat," Maksym said. "I made two of them
rare, if that's okay. If it isn't, I still probably have time to cook them
longer."
"No, no, rare is perfect, isn't it Derek?" Peter assured, not waiting for
Derek's nod of agreement as he sniffed the air appreciatively. "Dinner smells
good, Maksym. I haven't had a good steak in quite some time so this will be a
pleasure. Is that chocolate cake I smell baking?"
"Yes. Stiles decided to make his mother's chocolate lava cakes for dessert. It
was always a favorite recipe of his," Maks said conversationally as he walked
to a small wine cabinet. "Wine? I've got a nice Cabernet Sauvignon that will go
nicely with dinner."
Peter nodded. "Please. I do enjoy a good Cabernet. Derek?"
Derek shook his head. "None for me, thanks."
Maks studied him for a moment. Derek knew by the look on the man's face that
whatever was coming next was going to a be a test of some sort, and a moment
later he was proven right. "It's okay, Derek. I promise you it's safe. The only
thing I have laced with wolfsbane is my special cache of bullets, just in case
they're ever needed." He poured a glass and held it out, looking steadily at
Derek.
Never one to back down from a challenge, Derek accepted the glass of wine from
Maksym. He took a leisurely sip, not breaking eye contact, slowly licking the
wine from his lips and savoring the taste before giving Maksym a wolfish grin
that was more a baring of teeth than a smile. "I hope you're a quick draw,
then, Sheriff. Bullets only help when you get the chance to fire them." He
lifted the glass in mock salute before shooting a scowl in Peter's direction,
letting him know he hadn't missed the hastily smothered snort of laughter.
Screw wolfsbane in Peter's robe, Derek was going to dust the entire contents of
his underwear drawer. The bastard was enjoying this far too much.
To Derek's relief, Maksym's lips quirked up in a small smile and he nodded.
"Yes, you'll do just fine." He poured himself a glass of the rich wine and sat
on the smaller sofa that matched the couch. "I spoke to Stiles," he said,
looking at Derek first and then Peter, "He says he'll agree to the claim."
Derek felt a tension he hadn't realized he had inside him relax at Maksym's
words. Peter had been right; despite all of his reluctance to take on a
submissive, he couldn't deny that he wantedthis one more than anything he'd
ever wanted before, nor could he explain why since he didn't know himself. All
he knew was that no matter how much he desired Stiles, no matter how much his
wolf demandedhim, had Stiles refused their offer, Derek would have had no
choice but to deal with it. It would have been torture. His wolf paced
restlessly just below the surface of his skin, which agitated him even more.
He was torn between the conflicting desires to impress Stiles' father and
leaving the two older Doms to find the boy that now belonged to him and claim
him. He was suddenly taken with a fierce need to see his new submissive, to
speak to him and gaze into those magnificent eyes. Derek squirmed in his seat,
feeling ridiculously like a teenager with a crush, impatient to be in the
presence of his heart's desire.
Maksym looked at him steadily over the rim of his wineglass as he calmly took a
sip of his wine, taking a moment to appreciate the flavor before swallowing it
down. He chuckled as he leaned back, settling comfortably into his seat.
"Stiles is in the kitchen, if you'd like to go say hello," he said, gesturing
toward the vicinity of the kitchen with his wineglass.
Derek blinked at him for a moment before he realized that he had finally been
given permission by Stiles' dad, his Dom,to approach him. It was all he needed
to hear. Derek rose gracefully to his feet, determined to remain cool and not
appear too eager. After all, in just a short time he would be the Dom calling
the shots when it came to Stiles, and he felt like that was understood now.
"Thank you, Sheriff," he said.
Maksym inclined his head. "Let's dispense with the formalities, shall we? I
think at this point you can call me Maks. The kitchen is back and to your
right."
"Okay, then. Thank you, Maks," Derek agreed with a slight smile. He knew Maks
was trying to set him at ease and thought maybe he hadn't been quite as
successful at hiding his nerves as he'd hoped. Reminding himself once again
that he was an experienced Dominant, he straightened his shoulders and made his
way in the direction Maks had indicated.
As he exited the living room Derek was so focused on spending time with Stiles
that he failed to pay any attention to the Doms he'd left behind, completely
missing when Maks leaned over into Peter's personal space and demanded in a
furious whisper, "Have you told Derek the Argents are back?"
===============================================================================
Stiles puttered nervously around the kitchen. He had been tasked with finishing
the last minute dinner preparations while his father went into the living room
to prepare for the arrival of their guests. Stiles was grateful for the
distraction since the busy work since having to something focus on kept his
anxiety at bay. Stiles had readied the potatoes, piling the foil wrapped spuds
high on a plate so they were ready to be served, set the table with his
mother's good dishes and silverware, even going so far as to pull out linen
napkins and fold them into elegant swans. The salad and been prepped and placed
onto the table alongside his homemade balsamic vinaigrette dressing in its
glass cruet, and the sour cream, shredded cheese and crumbled bacon had been
placed in the condiment bowls. Warm rolls had been placed in the breadbasket, a
new stick of butter adorned the porcelain dish in the middle of the table and
his father had the steaks ready on a large serving platter.
The cakes were nearly done and kitchen filled with the heavenly scent of
chocolate as Stiles chewed nervously on a thumbnail, keeping on eye on the
timer and an ear out for the arrival of their guests. When he finally heard
voices in the living room he felt a sharp twist in his stomach and his heart
began to race.
"It's okay, Stiles," he coached himself aloud. "You've been waiting for this
day to come, no need to freak out. Even if your Dom happens to be incredibly
hot. Smokin' hot, even. Sex on legs. Oh, god, sex, you're going to be having
sex with a guy that looks like that and Jesus, how is this even my life?"
Stiles gasped as he grabbed the countertop with both hands and squeezed down
hard enough to make his fingers ache. The dull pain brought him back down and
he could feel the brief panic begin to recede
"There you go, man, you got this," Stiles congratulated himself as his
breathing returned to normal. The timer on the stove dinged, signaling that the
lava cakes were ready. Stiles grabbed a potholder and opened the oven, letting
the warm chocolaty scent waft over him as he leaned down and sniffed
appreciatively. He was so engrossed in his work that he didn't notice the
shadow in the doorway.
"Perfect every time," Stiles said happily, carefully pulling out the cookie
sheet with the ramekins on it to place it on the stove top and completely
unaware that he had an audience. He left the pans in the stove to cool and went
to the cabinet to grab the powdered sugar the cakes would be dusted with before
they were served. He then went to the refrigerator and pulled out a container
of raspberries and placed them on the counter. After thinking about it for a
moment he went back to the fridge and pulled out a container of strawberries
and set them down next to the raspberries, contemplating them both. "One of you
is going to be sacrificed to the pagan god of Lava Cake, which one will it be?"
Stiles mused.
"I like strawberries," said a low, gruff voice behind him.
Stiles startled at the deep, rich voice coming from behind him and accidentally
brushed his forearm against one of the hot ramekins resulting in a small burn.
He yelped in pain and dashed to the sink to run cold water over the gradually
reddening spot. Stiles froze when Derek joined him at the sink and gently took
his arm to inspect the burn.
"Are you alright?" Derek asked.
Stiles gaped at him for another moment before regaining his wits. He hastily
pulled his arm out of Derek's loose grasp and stepped back. "Dude! Not cool to
sneak up on me like that! Creep much?" he snapped, flinging his arm in emphasis
and wincing when it tugged the burned area. He nearly cringed when Derek raised
a brow at him and took his arm again to take a closer look at the smarting
injury.
"Are you alright," Derek repeated, the concern in his voice wrapping Stiles in
a pleasant cocoon of warmth.
"I-It's nothing. I can totally rub some dirt on it and walk it off," Stiles
tried joking but the pained whimper that escaped his lips when Derek pressed
down on a particularly tender spot ruined the illusion of bravado.
Stiles saw Derek's mouth tighten into a disapproving line and then the Dom
placed two fingers under his chin, forcing Stiles to meet the Dom's eyes. "Can
you hold still for me?" Derek asked quietly.
Even though Derek hadn't given him a direct order and been careful not to let
command enter his voice, Stiles felt an overwhelming desire to do as Derek had
asked and found himself nodding his acquiescence as he stared into his Dom's
eyes.
His Dom was even better looking up close. Strong brows topped green eyes that
were trimmed with long lashes that could hardly be legal. His cheeks were
covered with a heavy stubble that Stiles found himself wanting to rub his own
face against, to feel the prickle and burn it would cause as it passed over his
skin. Derek's lips were a dark pink, and Stiles realized belatedly that they
were moving as Derek spoke to him.
"You should be more careful," Derek scolded lightly. "Your well being is
important to me. I don't like seeing you get hurt."
Stiles' cheeks heated in a dark flush as he dropped his gaze to the floor.
Crap. Not even officially claimed and already he's screwing up and
disappointing his Dom. He was surprised at how much he already wanted to please
Derek, to show him how well he could obey and submit, be a good boy, his good
boy. "I'm sorry, Sir," he said in a near whisper, the title slipping out
without his realization. "I didn't mean to. But in my defense, I only hurt
myself because you startled me. I didn't know you were there."
"I apologize. It wasn't my intention to frighten you," Derek murmured as he
gently covered the red welt on Stiles' arm with his palm.
"That's o-hey, what are you doing?" Stiles asked, instinctively trying to pull
away but getting distracted instead by the warm tingle that had nothing to do
with the burn. He watched in fascination as small black lines appeared on
Derek's hand. The stinging ache began to dissipate as it was replaced with a
euphoric sensation that rushed through him, flooding his entire body in a wave
that warmed and cooled him simultaneously. Stiles felt himself smiling
foolishly. He felt awesome. Better than awesome. This was the best thing ever
in the history of best things, way better than that one time he and Scott
swiped a bottle of his Dad's liquor when Scott had been depressed because he
was sure Allison would never claim him since she was a hunter and he was a
werewolf. Stiles had gotten cataclysmically wasted, which had been totally
fantastic until the next morning when his body rebelled and tried to turn
itself inside out. Scott, that asshole, had been perfectly fine because it
turned out werewolves couldn't get drunk on regular booze.
"I'm taking away your pain," Derek explained, keeping his hand firmly in place
and concentrating on drawing out the pain and replacing it with healing energy.
"Huh," mused Stiles dreamily, caught up in the endorphin-like haze of the pain
exchange. "Can any werewolf do that? Because I'll be pissed if Scott's been
holding out on me and he could've been doing the touchy-takey-away-the-pain
thing all this time. Or is this something only Dominant wolves can do? Can you
do it in other ways?"
"Other ways?" Derek asked.
"Yeah, like can you do it with your mouth maybe?" Stiles asked blissfully
before he realized what he was saying and stopped, looking momentarily
horrified at himself. "I mean, not that what you're doing is bad, because, hey,
no complaints about magic fingers, like at all, and a little pain isn't
necessarily a bad thing, and oh my god," he groaned as he realized how his last
sentence could be interpreted.
Derek's mouth lifted at one corner in a half grin. "Are you asking me to kiss
it and make it better?"
Stiles' eyes widened and looked panicked for a brief moment. "No! Yes? I mean,
well, I might be, if it were okay, maybe, and-ohhhhhhhh, my god..." he trailed
off as Derek's grin became predatory.
===============================================================================
Derek had been taken aback initially by how bold Stiles appeared to be but then
again considering the first time he had ever met him the boy had sassed Peter,
perhaps he shouldn't have been.
It hadn't been Derek's intention to startle Stiles but when he'd walked into
the kitchen and found the boy so engrossed in his dinner preparations he had
wanted to take advantage of the opportunity observe the young man that would be
his submissive. He had been amused and rather entranced with watching and
listening to his boy chat with himself about fruit.
When Stiles had burned himself Derek had been overcome with an intense need to
help. His dominant instincts had taken over to where all he could focus on was
the fact that his submissive was in pain, and the thought of Stiles suffering
was simply intolerable.
Derek had wanted nothing more than to order Stiles to stand still and allow
Derek to tend to him but he knew that it would be both poor form and a
violation of trust to dominate Stiles outside of their claim, so he had been
careful keep command out of his voice and make sure that Stiles knew that he
was given a choice of whether or not to comply and not an order he had no other
recourse but to obey.
When Stiles had let the title of "Sir" slip from his lips it had almost been
Derek's undoing. His control had been further tested when Stiles had placed
himself in Derek's hands and allowed Derek to leach his pain. Stiles staring at
him, those perfect pink lips parted ever so slightly, perfect trust and the
promise of complete submission shining in his eyes had pushed Derek ever closer
to the edge. He had been mesmerized by the warm brown of Stiles' eyes and found
himself helpless against his need to lean closer and breathe in the boy's
scent. All of his senses had exploded as Stiles' scent washed over him, filling
his nostrils with the clean smell of soap combined with an underlying essence
of fresh fallen rain in the forest that Derek knew would be unique to Stiles.
He felt it tickling his skin and could taste it on his tongue. It was as though
it had entered his bloodstream and spread throughout his body, saturating him
from the inside out, intoxicating him fully.
He'd been startled to feel the telltale stinging sensation in his gums as his
fangs had threatened to drop and the tightening in his fingertips as his claws
had begun to form.
The partial shift had been enough to shock Derek back into some semblance of
control. He hadn't had an involuntary shift since he had gone through puberty
and the fact that he'd experienced one at the first scent of his submissive
shook him to the core. That Stiles could unwittingly elicit such a strong
response from both Derek and his wolf had him had been unexpected.
Derek probably would have been able to steady his heartbeat, will his fangs
back into relaxation and walk away while still firmly on the right side of the
line of propriety, but Stiles' remark about other ways to draw out pain proved
his undoing.
If his boy wanted him to kiss it and make it better, then who was Derek to
refuse him?
Derek lifted Stiles' arm slightly as he bent over to slowly trace his lips over
the fading burn. "Is this what you want?" he teased, feeling inordinately
pleased when he heard Stiles' breath hitch. He felt Stiles tremble and heard
the rabbit fast, rapid beat of his heart. His hold on Stiles was loose,
allowing him an escape if he wanted it, but Derek knew, they both knew Stiles
wanted no such thing. There was no scent of fear coming from his boy. Derek
could smell his nervousness and confusion but was delighted to also smell the
keen interest mixed with the faint underlying scent of arousal that had been
emanating from Stiles from the moment they touched and was steadily growing
stronger. Stiles melted and relaxed into the sensations and Derek thrilled at
how responsive Stiles was to his touch, creating pictures in his mind's eye of
how much they'd both enjoy just how receptive to Derek Stiles seemed to be.
Derek peeked at Stiles from beneath his lashes as his tongue darted out to
trace the fading burn on Stiles's arm. He smirked when Stiles swallowed a moan
and bit down on his bottom lip. "Nuh uh," Derek said, taking his thumb and
gently removing Stiles's lip from in between his teeth. "Let me hear you. Don't
be afraid to tell me what you want," he purred encouragingly as his entire body
thrummed with confident dominance and desire.
It hadn't been an order but Stiles responded beautifully, his eyelashes
fluttering shut and his lips parting on a soft whimper of submission that went
straight to Derek's cock. Derek felt Stiles shiver when he scraped his teeth
lightly over the sensitive skin but he was wholly unprepared for the boy to tip
his head ever so slightly to one side, baring just a hint of the vulnerable
curve of his neck to the Dom.
Derek felt a low growl rumble deep in the back of his throat as his wolf
responded on the most primal level. Did Stiles even realize what he was doing,
offering his neck like that? Did he have any clue what he was doing to him? It
would be so easy to take what was being offered to him. He felt his fangs
growing again and his vision swam for a mere breadth of a second before
sharpening and he knew his eyes were glowing. He leaned forward and slowly and
tantalizingly ran his nose up the curve of Stiles' neck, paying special
attention to a spot just behind his ear that seemed particularly sensitive,
taking mental note of the goosebumps that Stiles got in response before
retracing his way back down, scraping his cheek lightly against warm, soft
skin, his wolf rumbling in satisfaction now that Stiles smelled like a mixture
of both their scents. He felt Stiles quiver in response, his low gasp audible
to his sensitized hearing, and wanted to howl his triumph.
"Well, now, isn't this simply adorable? How very interesting," an amused voice
drawled from the doorway.
Derek whipped around with a snarl, his face transforming as he pushed Stiles
back to stand protectively in front of him. Reacting on pure instinct, he bared
his teeth and flashed his eyes at his uncle.
"Oh, do relax, Derek. You've nothing to be worried about from me," Peter said
with a grin, not batting an eyelash at his nephew's ire. "Not that it hasn't
been delightfully diverting, but I believe Maks gave you permission to come and
say hello to Stiles, not rub yourself all over the poor boy like a Were in
heat. It's probably a good thing he can't hear or smell what's been going on in
here."
Derek knew that technically his uncle was right, but damn the man for enjoying
it so much. He snarled at him again, just on general principle but found
himself on the receiving end of his Alpha's ire.
"Careful now, remember your place," Peter admonished with false gentleness as
he let the Alpha red bleed into his eyes. "Get yourself under control. Remember
that Maks doesn't have to let you have Stiles tonight, seeing as we don't meet
with the magistrate until tomorrow."
The combination of the rebuke and the reminder was enough to have Derek shifted
from his Beta from back into his human features.
His uncle nodded his approval just as Maks walked into the kitchen.
"Are we ready to eat, Stiles?" Maks asked.
Derek groaned internally as he realized what the scene must look like from the
older Dom's point of view: Derek and Peter facing each other down with a
slightly flushed, obviously flustered Stiles tightly pressed between Derek's
back and the kitchen counter.
"Is there a problem?" Maksym questioned warily, frowning in concern.
"No sir," Derek answered calmly.
"I believe I was asking Stiles," Maksym stated, peering around Derek and making
eye contact with his son.
Stiles stepped from behind Derek and instantly the werewolf wanted to drag him
back.
"Dad! Hey! No, nope, everything's great, hunky dory, peachy keen, nothing to be
seen here, why don't we get that dinner going. Let me go fix the plates, you
know, salad in the bowls and potatoes ready to eat. You already showed me which
steaks were the rare ones. When you come in, I'll get you seated and we can get
started, okay? Give me five minutes." Derek winced as he heard the slightly
breathy, overly bright tone in which Stiles answered his father before beating
a hasty retreat out of the room. If the man hadn't been suspicious before he
sure as hell would be now.
Derek could tell by the narrowing of the Sheriff's eyes that he wasn't entirely
buying what Stiles was selling, but thankfully the man decided to let it go.
"This way gentlemen," Maksym said as he led the way into the dining room. Derek
followed, hoping that he would manage to make it through dinner without either
killing his uncle or throwing Stiles down and mounting him on the dining room
table.
===============================================================================
Derek entered the dining room and watched as Maksym took his place at the head
of the table. He waited patiently as Stiles showed Peter to the chair opposite
of Maks' and then led Derek to the chair placed across from his own. Once the
two werewolves were seated, Maksym nodded his permission for Stiles to stand
next to his own chair before formally addressing Derek and his uncle.
"Alpha Hale," Maksym intoned respectfully, "Dom Derek Hale, you are both
welcome to our home. I'm pleased to have you join us in fellowship for dinner
before I let my son go with you in agreement to a claim between him and Derek.
As is custom, I've had Stiles prepare the plates already. He will continue to
serve us as needed during dinner, but as you can tell, I don't make him kneel
at meal time."
"That won't be an issue," Derek assured Maksym. There were most definitely
times and places he would have Stiles on his knees, but during meals would not
be among them. He would have preferred sitting next to Stiles, rather than
across from him, but he would comply with the arrangement Maks had set up. "I
know some dominants insist on the more old fashioned notion of their
submissives kneeling at all times, but my family has never kept with that
custom. Peter doesn't make his subs kneel at meals and I have no plans to
require Stiles to, either."
Maksym nodded his head once and the relief etched across his face made Derek
hopeful that the man was gaining confidence in the claim and growing more
secure with the idea of entrusting Stiles to Derek.
"Thank you. I'm glad to know that, actually," Maks said, his voice drawing
Derek out of his thoughts. "There are those who would call me liberal in my
upbringing of my son, but it's been just the two of us since he was eight. It
wasn't always easy for me to raise a submissive son on my own without his
mother to counterbalance, so I'm aware that some are of the opinion that Stiles
is maybe a bit on the willful side at times. We can discuss things further
while we eat, though. Stiles, you can sit down." Derek watched with sharp eyes
as the man reached out and gave his son an encouraging squeeze to his neck and
sat down, Stiles quickly taking his seat after his father had settled.
Derek had known from his previous dealings with Maksym that the man was
compassionate and fair but seeing in his own home, with his own submissive son
had only deepened Derek's respect for him. Derek had no doubt that were a great
many men in Maksym's place that wouldn't have had the patience or the
inclination to be a single parent to a submissive, but Maksym had risen to the
challenge and Stiles seemed to have thrived under his father's care.
Peter and Maksym made small talk but Derek hardly registered their voices. He
was so focused on Stiles that it took him several moments to realize that Maks
had been speaking to him.
"I'm sorry, Maks, would you mind repeating that?" Derek asked.
"You seem a bit distracted, son. I asked if everything was to your liking. Do
you need anything? Steak sauce or something?" Maksym explained.
As Stiles jumped up from the table, presumably to go into the kitchen to get
the steak sauce Derek hurried to reassure him. "No, it's okay, I don't need
any," said Derek quickly. He didn't want Stiles leaving his sight. It was far
too easy to get distracted by those long fingers and what they might be capable
of doing, or of that flawless neck that begged for him to mark it. Seeing the
pink skin where he had rubbed his face against it only made him want to do it
more.
"I'm fine as well, thank you," Peter put in, as he popped a bite of steak in
his mouth and chewed, the barely contained glee on his face making it plain to
Derek that his uncle was enjoying the scene immensely.
"It's no problem, I assure you. Stiles can easily grab the A-1 from the
refrigerator," Maks said with a genial smile.
Stiles was halfway out of his seat when Derek halted him again. "No, Stiles,
it's okay, I don't want any." Stiles froze, the indecision written plain as day
across his face. Derek suddenly realized it had to be confusing for his young
submissive to get conflicting information between his father, who had always
been his Dom, and Derek, who was about to be his Dom in his first claim, and
decided he needed to take charge of the situation so that Stiles could be set
at ease. He took a calming breath and then smiled in apology. "I wasn't
intending to slight this excellent meal, I promise. I was just lost in thought.
I don't eat sauce on my steak so there's no need to trouble yourself on my
account." To his relief, Stiles sat back down. He tried to ignore the knowing
look Maksym was giving him but felt his ears burning and was sure they were
red.
Things settled after that and Peter and Maksym chatted about the latest
developments in a murder case involving a famous athlete while Derek and Stiles
snuck glances back and forth across the table. Even though the meal was
excellent, Derek spent most of his time pushing food around his plate, utterly
distracted the sight of Stiles' pink lips wrapping around his fork each time he
took a bite or how he kept looking at him from beneath lush lashes. When Stiles
began fidgeting with his fork, running his fingers along the handle in a way
that was practically obscene, Derek nearly groaned out loud. He grimly swore to
himself that if he survived this dinner without somehow embarrassing himself,
he would consider it a triumph.
As dinner came to a close Stiles sought permission from his father to serve the
dessert. After disappearing into the kitchen for a few moments Stiles came back
into the dining room with the lava cakes. Derek hid a smile and felt a warm
frisson of pleasure go through him when he realized that Stiles had taken his
tastes into consideration and chosen to decorate the tops of the decadent
looking cakes with ripe strawberries.
Custom dictated that Stiles was to serve the agent of his Dom first. Derek
watched as Stiles took the first plate to Peter, dropping to his knees next to
his uncle and presenting the plate to him. "With your permission, Alpha."
Peter nodded and accepted the plate. "Thank you. That's a good boy," Peter
praised, grinning and giving the boy a quick rub of approval on his neck. Derek
stiffened and barely resisted the urge to growl. He knew what the custom was,
but seeing his submissive kneeling for another Dom didn't sit well with him
regardless, especially when the Dom in question was his uncle. He knew that
Peter was merely making mischief, but the idea of another dominant touching
Stiles raised the hackles of his wolf and stretched the tethers of his control.
Only the fact that Stiles' father was sitting there kept him in his seat. He
didn't want Maks terminating the claim before they even got to start it because
he was concerned he might be giving his son into the care of a lunatic with
anger management issues. Lashing out at Peter like that might also frighten
Stiles and the last thing he wanted was for the boy to fear him. Derek grit his
teeth and gave his unrepentant uncle a look that promised retribution at
another time.
The next person to be served as per custom was the dominant parent of the
submissive. Stiles dropped to his knees next to his father and presented the
plate of cake to him. "With your permission, Dad."
Derek felt the man's pride as Maks smiled and accepted the plate from his son.
"Thank you, Stiles. You did well, son."
It was now time for the submissive to serve his Dom. Derek noted the small
shake in his hands as Stiles removed the plate from the sideboard and made his
way over to Derek. He heard Stiles' heartbeat ratchet up as he knelt by his
side and saw the quick flash of his tongue as it darted out to lick over soft
pink lips. "With your permission, Sir," Stiles said as he presented the plate
to Derek.
Derek took the plate from Stiles and placed it on the table. Unable to keep his
hands off his submissive for any longer, he ran a gentle hand through Stiles'
hair to rest at the base of his neck and leaned forward, resting his forehead
against Stiles' and breathing deeply of his scent once again. "Good boy," he
whispered.
Derek smiled in satisfaction as he heard the small hitch in Stiles's breath and
saw the warm flush on his skin indicating his pleasure at receiving the touch
and praise of his Dom. His long lashes swept over his cheekbones as they
fluttered shut and Derek sat transfixed by the sight. They sat there like that
for a moment, caught up in a world that consisted only of the two of them and
completely unaware of their surroundings.
And then Peter, because of course it was Peter, shattered the moment.
"Ahhh, first claims. There's just something magical about them, isn't there?"
he chuckled.
Stiles' eyes flew open and he jerked backwards, nearly falling on his ass.
Derek reached out a hand to steady him and glared daggers at Peter. As annoyed
as he was with his uncle he couldn't help but be charmed by the adorable blush
that stained Stiles's cheeks and wonder just how far down the delicate pink
flush went.
Custom dictated that the dominants not eat until the submissive had been seated
so once Stiles got his plate and joined them at the table everyone took up
their forks.
"Oh, my god, Stiles, this is incredible," moaned Peter around a forkful of warm
lava cake. "You'll have to make this for us again."
Derek's exasperation with his uncle's antics were cut short at the sight of
Stiles beaming from the praise.
"That would so not be a problem," he heard Stiles answer his uncle. " This is
one of my favorite things to make and eat." Derek smiled as Stiles looked
hungrily at his cake and licked his lips with relish. "Mmmmmmm. Come on,
gorgeous, get in me!"
Derek nearly choked on his intake of air. Christ, this boy was going to kill
him, and he didn't even seem realize he was doing it. He heard Peter snicker
softly and managed not to throw his fork at his head, instead using it to cut
into the cake. The mouth watering aroma of warm chocolate grew stronger as the
gooey center began to ooze out. Derek took a bite and closed his eyes. The cake
melted in his mouth with a velvety smooth explosion that circled his tongue
like a silk scarf and danced over his taste buds like musical notes.
Holy mother of god.
"So," said Maksym as they were savoring the last of the rich dessert, "I think
it's time we address the issue at hand. Does anyone want coffee or anything
before we start?" Derek and Peter both declined and Maks nodded. "Okay then. As
I mentioned earlier, I've spoken to Stiles about your interest in a claim
between him and Derek. Stiles has agreed to enter into this claim, and I am
giving my permission. I do, however, have some conditions."
Derek quirked an eyebrow and noted that Stiles seemed to be taken aback by the
mention of any conditions being placed on their claim. While it wasn't unusual
for provincial claims to have stipulations, typically they were included as
part of the contract. Derek was intrigued as to what amendments Maksym might
want to make on their claim that he hadn't gone over with his son first.
"What would those conditions be?" Derek asked quietly.
"First of all, I believe I've mentioned that Stiles is all I have," Maks began,
answering Derek. "His upbringing might have been a bit unconventional at times,
but he's smart and quick. He takes medication for ADD to help him focus, but
it's not always that easy. He also has a tendency towards stubbornness and can
be mouthy. I know that punishment and reward is an important part of a claim,
but I don't want my son injured. If the urge to kill him becomes a regular
thing, I want him back. No questions asked."
"I assure you rumors of Derek's homicidal tendencies have been greatly
exaggerated," Peter said smoothly. "Also it does bear mentioning that Stiles is
our top submissive student. I have every confidence that he'll do just fine.
And if he gives Derek a run for his money, all the better. Builds character."
Peter smirked at Derek from across the table and Derek stifled the urge to stab
his Alpha with his dessert fork.
"I understand that. I also understand that humans don't have the supernatural
strength and healing ability of werewolves. I'm looking out for the well being
of my son," Maksym said firmly.
Peter started to say something but Derek cut him off. He was plenty capable of
speaking on his own behalf. "You have my word, Dom Stilinski. I don't foresee
any problem, but I agree to your request. I also want you to know that harming
Stiles is the last thing I want to do. We Hales don't have the reputation of
being submissive abusers."
Maks cleared his throat pointedly. "Understand I mean no offense. My son's well
being is my top priority."
"And now it's mine," stated Derek, matching Maksym in his intensity.
"That's what I needed to know," Maks said approvingly, then continued, "Now,
the only other condition I have on this claim is no cubs. Not unless you make
this a permanent claim and even then not until he's older."
Derek's eyes grew wide at the bold declaration but before he could gather his
wits Stiles reacted.
"Da-a-a-ad!"squawked Stiles, throwing both arms up to grab his head in
embarrassment. "How much whiskey did you have before dinner? We're both guys!
That's not possible!" He paused and then looked at the two wolves suspiciously.
"Is it?"
Derek couldn't find his voice but Peter apparently had no such problem. "I can
see we need to enroll you in a werewolf claim class at school," he chuckled
before turning serious. "To answer your question, Stiles, there actually are
documented cases of male couples procreating. It's extremely rare, but it has
happened. The good news is that it has yet to happen in a wolf/human couple. So
far it appears that human males aren't carriers, but I assure you, we are able
to take preventative measures that won't affect you in the slightest. We take
the same precautions with every provisional claim as humans do, and my family
is no exception." Having stunned Stiles into silence, Peter turned to Maks.
"You have the word of the Alpha, Maks."
"Thank you," replied Maks with an incline of his head. "I don't believe I have
any other concerns at this time." He breathed out a heavy breath, and then
stood, followed by Peter and Derek.
In accordance with custom, Peter spoke first. "Dom Maksym Stilinski, as Alpha
of the Hale pack, I present my nephew, Dom Derek Hale, and I am here as his
agent. In accordance to the law, we formally make an offer for Derek to claim
your son as his submissive in a provincial claim with all the regulations that
go with it, which will be discussed in full at time of register. We agree to
your conditions. If you are agreeable, then we will meet with the magistrate at
the time of your choosing to legally register this claim. I also respectfully
remind you that as per our previous conversation, we would like permission to
have him return to our residence tonight so as to get him accustomed to our
household."
Derek could tell by the stunned look on his face that his submissive had been
unaware that he'd be leaving so soon. He tried to give Stiles a supportive
smile but wasn't sure it registered with the flustered young man.
Maksym must have sensed his son's surprise as well, because when he spoke next
Derek noticed that the older Dom had a reassuring hand on the young man's
shoulder. "As dominant and only living parent of submissive Aurélien Stilinski,
called Stiles by his request and my permission, I give my approval for Dom
Derek Hale to claim my son as his submissive in a provincial claim. As is
decreed by law, my son has been applied to for his agreement to enter this
claim, and he has done so of his own free will. I hereby request the presence
of the Alpha, Dom Peter Hale, and his nephew, Dom Derek Hale, to join me at the
magistrate tomorrow evening at 5:30 to register this claim and make it legal.
As agreed to in prior communication with the Alpha, I consent to let my son go
to the Hale household tonight in order to try to make his transition as a
member of the household as easy and smooth as possible."
Derek released a breath he hadn't realized he was holding at Maksym's words. It
was done, then. Stiles was his and he would be taking him home tonight. A
prickle of something that felt almost like utter happiness built up in his
chest until he felt nearly lightheaded with it.
"Stiles," Derek said gently. "Go get what you'll need to get you through the
night, and this weekend we'll work on getting you packed and moved. I know that
this must seem like it's moving incredibly fast for you and that things are a
little confusing right now but I promise you, things are going to be just
fine."
Stiles gave Derek a shaky attempt at a smile before shooting a quick, nervous
glance at his father. "Wow. Okay, tonight then," the boy said. He paused and
motioned to the table. "Shouldn't I clear the dishes and clean up first?"
Derek's eyes slid to Maks, knowing that it was his father's reassurance Stiles
needed. Maks shook his head. "I know you normally take care of clean up, but
not this time. I've got it, you go do as Derek said so that you can get to your
new digs and start getting acclimated."
Derek reluctantly watched Stiles turn and walk towards the stairs. Without
thinking, he called out, "Do you need any help?"
Stiles looked back and Derek ached to take the pads of his fingers and smooth
away each and every anxious line he saw on his boy's face. When Stiles declined
his help and thudded up the stairs Derek swore he could feel the growing
distance between them like a physical discomfort in his chest. Strange,
especially since they weren't officially claimed yet.
===============================================================================
Stiles shut the door to his room quietly behind him and leaned heavily against
it, gasping in a deep breath before sliding bonelessly to the floor. His chest
had just started aching and he rubbed at it absentmindedly while his thoughts
raced through his head. So he would be leaving his home tonight, not tomorrow
after meeting the magistrate. Instead of going to sleep in his own bed one last
time, maybe enjoying a little Stiles time and jerking off to thoughts of his
hot Dom before succumbing to dreamland, he would actually be in a bed withhis
hot Dom.
Jesus Christ.
He would not have a panic attack right now. He would not.
Grabbing his phone, Stiles tapped out a text to Scott.
I may or may not be freaking out right now
What's wrong? : /
Looks like I've got myself a hot Dom
That's awesome, dude! Congrats! Why the freak out? Did something go wrong?
Not exactly, more like oh yeah, hey Stiles, by the way, you're going home with
the big bad wolves tonight. Have a great night!
Lol, your dad said that?
Not funny, dude, I am dead serious. The legal claiming with the magistrate is
tomorrow but I'm supposed to be packing right now for my first grown up slumber
party. This is NOT a drill!
But what's wrong? Are you afraid of him? Don't be.
Stiles stopped to think. Washe afraid of Derek? He hadn't given him any reason
to be scared, had he?
No, I'm NOT afraid of him.
Except maybe he was. Maybe he was afraid of how Derek already made him feel.
Maybe he was afraid of not being a good enough submissive. Fantasy was one
thing, reality was altogether different, and going home with his Dom tonight
was both exhilarating and terrifying all at once.
I can hear your brain working from here. Just relax and let yourself enjoy it,
okay? Enjoy being taken care of by your Dom. Everything's gonna be ok!
Sure thing. Gotta go, they're waiting for me. I'll see you tomorrow.
Stiles puffed out his cheeks with a deep sigh as he drug an old duffel bag out
of his closet. He quickly packed clothes for school tomorrow along with a pair
of comfortable flannel pajama pants and an old Sacramento State t-shirt that
had been his Dad's back in the day and was faded and soft from repeat washings
over the years, perfect for sleeping in. Unless, of course, Derek didn't allow
him to wear clothes to bed. Stiles shrugged and packed the clothes anyway.
Better to be prepared. Clean underwear and socks were tossed in on top of that.
A quick run across the hallway to the bathroom to gather together his
toiletries came next. He packed his laptop in its bag and made sure to toss his
phone charger in as well. He started to zip the bag closed but stopped to pack
his bottle of Adderal. His pillow was the last thing he grabbed. He was sure
Derek had plenty of pillows, but he still wanted his own. That way if he
drooled in his sleep or anything it wouldn't be quite as embarrassing.
Stiles looked over his room to make sure he wasn't forgetting anything. It was
a bittersweet moment. His room looked a little forlorn already, and he had only
packed an overnight bag, for crying out loud. He was not going to get emotional
over his bedroom. There was always moving out for that. Heaving one last sigh,
Stiles shouldered his duffel bag and computer bag on one shoulder and grabbed
his backpack and lacrosse bag as well before stuffing his pillow under one arm.
He managed to make it down the stairs without wiping out and injuring himself
or breaking anything. When he stumbled into the living room, Peter and Derek
were standing by the door with his dad.
His dad gave him a smile of encouragement that held a hint of sadness. "Got
everything you'll need for the night?"
Stiles nodded breathlessly. The weird ache in his chest had gone as suddenly as
it had appeared, but now his stomach felt all twisted in knots. "Yeah, I'm
pretty sure I'm good to go."
"The car is ready when we are," Peter said.
Stiles gave his dad a shaky smile. "So I guess this is it, then. Goodbye and
all that."
His father placed his hand on Stiles' shoulder and squeezed it. "I'm just a
phone call away if you need me. No matter what." He waited for Stiles to let
his bags fall to the floor before pulling him into a bone crushing hug, holding
him tightly for several moments. He heard Stiles sniffle and whispered, "You're
going to be fine. I love you, son."
"Love you too, Dad," Stiles replied in a broken whisper as he let go of his dad
and wiped his eyes. Straightening his shoulders and blowing out a quick breath,
he looked at Peter and Derek. "I'm ready."
Derek reached for Stiles' bags to help him carry them to the car but Maks held
up a hand. "You'll help him if he needs it from here on, young man, but this
time I will." He picked up Stiles' bags and motioned to Peter to lead the way.
Peter opened the front door and walked to the car. The driver opened the trunk
and jumped out, hurrying to assist, but Maks waved him off. He placed Stiles'
bags in the trunk and slammed it shut before leaning against it while the
driver opened the door to usher Peter into his seat.
Derek held a hand out to Stiles. "Are you ready to go?"
Stiles swallowed heavily and nodded as he accepted Derek's outstretched hand.
As soon as their hands touched, a jolt like electricity passed through him and
he swore he felt Derek's hand tighten on his as though he felt the same thing.
As they walked out, he closed the door quietly behind him. His boyhood home was
behind him and a car was waiting to whisk him to his future dwelling, the
dividing lines of his life seeming almost surreal.
"It's okay, I've got you," Derek said softly, startling Stiles out of his
reverie.
"W-what?" he stuttered.
"I can hear your heartbeat, it's about to pound out of your chest," Derek said
as they reached the car, where the driver waited with the door held open. "Stop
worrying."
Stiles gave his dad one more tight, lingering hug before allowing himself to be
led into the car, followed by Derek. Peter was sitting across from him and gave
him a bright smile.
"Ready?" Peter asked cheerfully.
Stiles gave him a weak lift of the corners of his mouth in return and was
surprised when Derek pointedly put an arm around him, the possessive action
causing Peter to chuckle softly. It had been an emotional day and Stiles was
mentally exhausted. Feeling a little lost and out of sorts, he turned and
leaned into the protective warmth being silently offered by his Dom. He leaned
against Derek's chest and closed his eyes as he listened to his steady heart
beat, slowly relaxing and quietly dozing off.
===============================================================================
Derek tightened his arm around Stiles, holding his sleeping submissive close.
His breath caught when Stiles snuffled adorably and cuddled even closer. Touch
was a basic submissive need; they craved it, sought it out, even while asleep,
but there was always a matter of trust involved. The fact that already his boy
trusted him enough to sleep in his arms even after he had been uprooted from
the home he had always known made Derek's heart want to sing. It was becoming
harder to remember why he didn't want to claim a sub. When Stiles sighed softly
in his sleep, causing his lips to part ever so slightly, Derek began to realize
that he just might be in serious trouble.
Chapter End Notes
     TBC
***** Chapter 4 *****
Chapter Notes
     Okay. Here is where I apologize yet again for how long it has taken
     me to update. I won't make any excuses, but I will honestly say that
     I have had a lot going on in RL and when I actually had the time to
     write, I wasn't always in the right mind frame. I also rewrote a
     significant portion of this, so that was another delay. This is the
     shortest chapter thus far, but hey, I earn the rating! *bats eyes and
     hopes this appeases at least a little*
      
     Thanks as always to my wonderful beta, Sies, for being the jewel she
     is, and to Shelley, who makes my writing better with her suggestions.
     I hope this lives up to expectation, darling. Thanks also to Sam, who
     suggested the idea in the first place. And I would be remiss if I
     didn't thank all of you who have subscribed, reviewed, and reached
     out to me on Tumblr. You inspire me.
      
     Was anyone else screaming at their television during the 3a finale?
     And why is this hiatus so long?
===============================================================================
"Stiles."
"Go 'way." Stiles mumbled as he cuddled closer into the warmth surrounding him.
A firm hand was stroking his back and he softly hummed his approval, then
frowned when the hand moved to his shoulder to give him a soft shake.
"Stiles." More insistent this time.
"Five more minutes, Dad," Stiles mumbled, tightening his hold on his pillow,
which was incredibly comfortable but strangely seemed a lot more firm than he
remembered.
"There you go, Derek. Daddy kink. Just think of all the fun possibilities!"
When he heard Peter's delighted chuckle, Stiles jerked awake, his eyes popping
open and full body flail nearly causing him to fall. Only Derek's quick grasp
kept him from ending up in a heap in the floorboard of the car.
"Oh my god, would you just shut up?" Stiles heard Derek snap as he tried to get
his bearings. He twisted in his Dom's arms to look out the car window. They had
pulled up to the large, stately Hale mansion and a service sub was approaching
the car to assist them inside.
When the door was opened, Stiles watched as Peter got out first. He accepted a
list of messages from the service sub and read through it quickly. Quirking a
smile at Stiles, Peter sighed and said, "No rest for the weary, it seems
business calls. I hope you'll forgive me for being absent from your homecoming;
unfortunately I have something I need to attend to immediately. But as the
Alpha, I welcome you to our home." He gave Derek a quick nod before walking
into the house.
Stiles waited for Derek to get out next, and he climbed out of the back seat
with a lithe grace that left Stiles feeling a bit breathless. He clambered out
behind his Dom without waiting for assistance and stood next to the car
awkwardly as the service sub opened the trunk and gathered up his belongings.
Would Derek want him to follow him at a certain distance? What if he wanted
Stiles to crawl or something? To his relief, Derek wordlessly motioned him to
his side and placed a steadying hand on the small of his back as they walked
into the imposing house.
The interior of the Hale manor was tasteful and welcoming, certainly not the
ostentatious grandeur Stiles had admittedly been expecting. Wealth was evident
but not overpowering. The foyer was a deep brown hardwood with a simple yet
elegant chandelier hanging from the ceiling. Twin staircases led to the next
floor, but instead of being lined with expensive works of art or sculptures,
there were instead framed pictures of the Hale family. The wooden railings were
polished to a fine glow and the whole area gave an impression of warmth and
life instead of the austere coldness that might be believed of a family that
had been hit with the kind of tragedy the Hales had.
Stiles stood quietly as Derek directed the service subs to put Stiles' things
in his bedroom and told them they were free to go home once they finished. He
leaned into his Dom and felt a thrill when Derek's hand moved from his back to
snake around his waist and pull him closer. Stiles couldn't help but feel
secure and protected. It was a heady feeling that was still very new. He had
always felt protected by his father, and even Lydia, but this was different and
exciting, and maybe just a little scary. Once the service subs left them, Derek
returned his hand to the small of Stiles' back, urging him forward. There was a
set of double doors ahead that were open with light spilling out and the sound
of voices from within. Stiles hesitated for a moment, glancing unsurely at his
Dom. Derek gave his back a reassuring rub and motioned him forward into the
room.
When Stiles walked through the doors he realized he was in a large living room.
The plush carpet felt squishy under his shoes and there was a huge high def
television on one wall. There were two large couches arranged with colorful
throw pillows and the coffee table and matching end tables were a deep cherry
wood. On one of the couches, Stiles recognized Laura Hale. She was sitting at
one end while a lanky, dark skinned guy that Stiles recognized as Vernon Boyd
lay across the couch with his head in her lap. Boyd had been a senior Stiles'
freshman year and had been captain of the submissives' lacrosse team. He had
been fair and dependable. Stiles seemed to remember hearing about him being
claimed by Laura Hale soon after her return to Beacon Hills. Being spooned by
Boyd was Erica, who gave him a lazy smile and wave, and sprawled on top of both
of them was Isaac, who looked to be half asleep as Laura idly stroked her
fingers through his light curls.
"Oh, good, Derek, you're back! And you brought him back with you, that's
fantastic. Hello, Stiles, welcome home," Laura smiled, trying to put the
obviously nervous submissive at ease.
Stiles gave her a wobbly grin, trying to appear at ease. "Thanks, Mistress
Hale, I'm happy to be here."
"Aren't you simply adorable?" Laura cooed. "Such a good boy, too. But you don't
have to call me Mistress Hale here. When we're at home you have my permission
to call me Laura. You know my submissive Boyd, don't you? And of course you
already know Erica and Isaac. You're welcome to come join our puppy pile, we'll
make room!"
Stiles heard a low rumbling growl as Derek wrapped an arm around his waist and
pulled him close. He couldn't help but feel a frisson of excitement at the
possessive action from his Dom.
Laura's smile became a wickedly teasing grin. "Or not. I see my brother isn't
in a sharing mood. Not that I blame him. Okay, you two. Duty fulfilled, you've
said hello, now we can say good night. Go on, go upstairs. I'm sure Derek is
ready to scent you some more. I suppose you'll be absent from classes tomorrow,
yes?"
"Oh, I can't! I have a test in Dom Harris' class tomorrow," remembered Stiles.
Fortunately he knew the material like the back of his hand, otherwise he'd be
in a panic over not studying at all tonight.
"The claim isn't formal until tomorrow night, Lola," Derek spoke from behind
him. Apparently, that explained something to Laura because a look of
understanding crossed her face and she nodded.
"Okay. Will Stiles be needing a ride to school, or do you plan to take him?"
she asked.
"I'll take him," Derek answered. He leaned closer to Stiles and murmured
quietly, "It's time to go upstairs."
Stiles blushed and swallowed nervously, knowing he would be alone with his Dom.
"S-sure," he said with only a slight stammer. "See you guys later."
Laura gave him another kind smile. "Good night, Stiles. It's about time that
Boyd and I turn in as well, and I'm sure Peter will be expecting Erica and
Isaac to be in his room when he gets there. Breakfast is served at 7:00, so
we'll see you in the morning."
Stiles nodded and swallowed heavily when Derek took him by the hand to lead him
from the room. They went upstairs and Derek turned them down a short hallway.
He walked to the door at the end and opened it. "Well, here we are. This is my
room. Or, our room, I guess I should say."
Stiles walked in and looked around wonderingly. The room was large, much bigger
than his bedroom at home was. The walls were a creamy off white and devoid of
any posters or pictures, the only adornment being a large TV. It hung opposite
to the huge bed that was covered with a plush comforter and already had his
pillow arranged on one side with the other plump pillows there. The sheets were
turned back invitingly, causing his cheeks to heat and his stomach to twist
with nervous excitement. A large trunk was at the foot of the bed. There was a
desk with a computer on it against one wall and to either side of it were tall
shelves that were both filled with books. There was also a mirrored dresser and
matching chest of drawers arranged near the closet, and what looked to be a
gigantic en suite bathroom through the open door. Vertical blinds were hanging
across sliding glass doors, and Stiles could see a balcony outside.
"Wow," he croaked. He looked at Derek, who had been watching him silently and
looked almost...nervous? What even. "This is-this is really nice." His Dom
seemed to relax at his words, and he walked over to the dresser.
"I went ahead and had the house subs put your things away," Derek said with a
wave of his hand. "Once you get moved in, the left side of the dresser will be
yours, as well as the top two drawers on the chest. There are also shelves on
your side of the closet and space to hang things up. You have your own area in
the bathroom for toiletries or whatever you might need. Go ahead and take your
shower and get ready for bed."
"Uh, yeah, that'll be great," Stiles said. He licked his lips nervously,
looking down and not noticing how the movement drew Derek's eyes to his mouth.
"Can I-will it be okay for me to wear clothes to bed, Sir?"
Derek raised his eyebrows and gave him a small but pleased smile. He turned and
walked to the door, taking a deep breath as he opened it. He looked back at
Stiles and said, "I think that'll be okay for tonight. Thank you for asking.
That's my good boy."
Stiles fidgeted, warming at the words of praise from his Dom. He wished he had
more experience at this type of thing and knew if he should maybe invite Derek
to join him or watch or something, the idea sending a hot spike of nervous
arousal through him. He thought he heard the creak of wood, but a quick glance
showed him that Derek was still standing in the doorway with one hand on the
door facing.
"I'll be back in just a bit," Derek said, his voice sounding oddly strained. He
stepped out of the room and closed the door quietly behind him.
Stiles blinked in surprise, wondering why Derek had left him alone instead of
staying, not that he minded the privacy. He looked around the room again. Now
that he was alone, his normal sense of curiosity took over. The trunk at the
foot of the bed appeared to be locked. He walked over to the shelves of books,
wondering what his Dom enjoyed reading. There were several biographies as well
as what looked like the entire collection of Stephen King works. He saw the
Game of Thrones books and all of the Harry Potter books, as well as a multitude
of literary classics. There was even a small collection of romance novels, much
to Stiles' amusement. All of the books looked slightly worn and well read, so
he knew they weren't just for show. Towards the end of the bottom shelf, Stiles
blushed to find several books of hentai and erotica, as well as books about
bondage, flogging, shibari, and master/slave relations.
It seemed his Dom had a wide variety of interests.
The computer on the desk was a sleek Mac. Stiles found his laptop bag leaning
against the side of the desk and pulled his computer out. The desk had plenty
of room to accommodate it, so he plugged it in and set it up to one side. He
plugged his cellphone charger in and decided to quickly text Scott before
putting his phone on for the night. He walked over to the door and took a
picture of the room, typing "Wow" as a caption before hitting send and plugging
the phone in. Wondering where his things were, Stiles opened the drawers Derek
had indicated. He found his clothes neatly folded and put away in the top
dresser drawer. The few things he had brought looked a little forlorn in one
corner of the drawer, but once he brought the rest of his things he would
appreciate his Dom's consideration. Unable to resist temptation, Stiles peeked
in the drawers that were Derek's. He ran his fingers lightly over the darker
colored clothing Derek seemed to prefer, holding a shirt up to his nose and
breathing in. A pleasant scent that reminded Stiles of the forest clung to the
clothing. It felt somehow relaxing and secure all at once, and he wondered if
Derek would mind if he slept in his clothes sometime. The rest of the drawers
yielded nothing but more clothing, and the same for the closet. Stiles wondered
at the apparent absence of any sort of toys or anything that his Dom might want
to incorporate into their claim. Maybe Derek preferred not to use them. Stiles
felt a small wave of disappointment, then perked up. The Hale mansion was huge,
it was possible there might be a separate playroom. He figured he'd find out
soon enough.
Two quick chimes of his phone in succession indicated text messages, so Stiles
closed the closet door and walked back to the desk.
Niiiiice! *bro fist*
Allison says congratulations and she's happy for you.
Stiles fired back a quick answer.
Tell her thanks. Gotta go, ttyl...
Stiles hit send and turned off his phone. Until he knew what Derek's rules
would be when they were in their room, he wasn't going to chance displeasing
him. A quick glance told him he needed to hurry; he didn't know when Derek
would be back and he wanted to be showered and ready. Even though his Dom
hadn't given him a command or specific time limit, he really wanted to make a
good impression on their first night, even if it wasn't the official one.
Stiles gathered up his pajamas and clean briefs and carried them into the
bathroom.
When Stiles walked into the large en suite, his eyes widened and he came to
such a sudden stop he nearly fell on his ass. To his left was a large stand-
alone shower that could easily accommodate two people. It was enclosed by
shaded glass doors and had a wall of multiple shower heads. The floor was
textured stone and there was a wall seat in the far end. His shower gel and
shampoo were already on one of the built-in shelves. Just past the shower and
in the corner was a large Jacuzzi bathtub. There were candles on the wide end
ledges as well as an assortment of bath gels and oils. Two separate sinks
shared a large counter space and there was a large mirror behind them. A small
medicine cabinet was hung near the door to the small water closet where the
toilet was. It was one of the most luxurious bathrooms he'd ever seen.
Stiles turned on the shower and jumped when the water came out already heated
and in full force. He grinned delightedly and quickly stripped out of his
clothing. Once he was in the shower he found he could position the heads
however he wanted. Within minutes, Stiles was singing enthusiastically as he
soaped himself up under the steady deluge of hot water. He reached for his
shampoo and lathered it up, spiking his hair up in a Mohawk before flattening
it and rinsing. It was tempting to stay in the shower longer and indulge
himself in a little Stiles time to help him relax, but he decided against it.
It would be just his luck that Derek would come back and catch him jerking off.
Talk about embarrassing. Even if he kept it quiet, there was always the chance
he'd still be overheard. Oh, god, and they could smell it, too, couldn't they?
Scott used to complain about the smell in his room sometimes if he came over
right after Stiles time. Stiles was suddenly seeing a distinct disadvantage to
being in a house full of werewolves.
He stepped out on the bath mat and quickly dried off with one of the thick
towels hanging on the rack. He slipped into his briefs and then pulled on the
soft flannel pajama pants and t-shirt he'd brought to sleep in. Brushing his
teeth and flossing took just a few minutes, and Stiles studied his face
critically in the mirror for a moment to make sure he didn't have any zits
coming up or anything. Deciding he passed inspection for the night he gathered
up his dirty clothes to toss into the hamper and padded barefoot to go back to
the bedroom.
Even though he'd known Derek was returning soon, Stiles nearly jumped out of
his skin when he walked into the room to discover his Dom lounging across the
huge bed, reading a book and wearing nothing but a pair of black briefs that
left nothing to the imagination. His heart beat a rapid tattoo against his
ribcage and his mouth felt suddenly dry. He stared for just a moment, nearly
dropping the armload of dirty clothes in his distraction before catching
himself and quickly depositing the clothes in the hamper. Stiles licked his
lips nervously. They hadn't talked about bedtime rituals or anything yet, but
he didn't think he should just climb into the bed with Derek. Standing
awkwardly and staring didn't seem like much of an option either. An idea came
to him, and Stiles inwardly crossed his fingers that the instinct flooding him
was right. He walked quietly to the bed near Derek's head and dropped to his
knees, looking down at the floor.
"Sir," he said, his voice just above a whisper as he waited breathlessly for
his Dom to respond.
===============================================================================
Derek tightened his fingers on the book he held. He could smell the clean scent
of soap and still damp hair mixed in with the slightly sharper scent of
anxiousness. He could hear the rapid thud of Stiles' heart and knew he was
nervous. Derek was determined to put his submissive at ease, even if it killed
him. When he had caught the scent of arousal coming from Stiles earlier it had
taken nearly all his control not to shift on the spot. He was pretty sure he
had at least dented the wooden doorframe, if not cracked it. Peter would either
be aggravated or amused over the damage; Derek had a feeling it would be the
latter and he probably would never live it down.
Derek knew Stiles had been surprised to be left alone for his shower, but he
had needed to put some distance between them. He had gone downstairs and had a
glass of ice water to cool himself down. The scent of Stiles was driving him
insane, especially now that his own scent was mixed in with it. Maybe it was
the claim happening in close proximity to the full moon, but Derek had decided
that a long workout or run through the woods, maybe both, would be in order
tomorrow while Stiles was at school. After their claiming ceremony tomorrow
evening, Stiles would officially be his and he would need to be in perfect
control to begin teaching his young submissive how to please him without
traumatizing him.
This had never been a problem for Derek before. He was always in perfect
control, his wolf always well in check when he played with a sub. This burning
need, the demand of his wolf so close to the surface was something unfamiliar,
and Derek was thrown off kilter by it. He had no explanation for it, and that
unsettled him.
Derek had had a moment of anxiety when he brought Stiles to his-their-room. It
was nondescript and plain, no decoration of any sort. Kate had always mocked
his taste as stodgy and boring, and for a terrifying moment, he had wondered if
Stiles would feel the same. He knew Stiles had looked around the room. He had
seen the laptop set up on the desk, saw the phone plugged in, smelled where
Stiles had touched some of his clothing. Rather than being annoyed over the
intrusion, though, Derek was surprised at how much this actually pleased him.
Now his submissive was there, kneeling in perfect posture as he waited to be
acknowledged, scrubbed clean and smelling incredible, yet all wrong because he
didn't smell like Derek anymore. This was not acceptable at all.
Derek sat up and closed his book, not caring that he lost his place. It wasn't
like he'd paid attention to anything on the page from the moment he'd heard the
shower shut off, anyway. He tossed it on the nightstand on his side of the bed
and pulled the covers back to lie down under them. He held them up and patted
the space next to him.
"Come to bed," Derek said, voice gentle but firm. He watched as Stiles
swallowed nervously before rising to his feet and climbing into the bed next to
him. Derek twisted to turn off the lamp and then turned back to arrange the
sheet and comforter over them both. Stiles lay stiffly on his back next to him,
breathing shallow and quick and heartbeat a rapid thud in Derek's ears. He
placed a hand on Stiles' stomach and felt it jump and clench under his touch.
Stiles inhaled sharply and Derek nearly withdrew his hand. But no. Stiles
needed to get used to being in bed with him, needed to become familiar with his
touch.
"Relax. I'm not going to ravish you," Derek said blandly, keeping his hand
still instead of rubbing the taut stomach under his hand. He resisted the urge
to reach under the t-shirt and slide his hand along that warm, smooth skin.
At least he tried to. But then Stiles whispered breathlessly, "You're not?" A
note of disappointment was clear in his tone, and Derek nearly groaned out
loud. He hadn't been to a sub club in weeks and domination was coursing through
him, demanding to be released and even stronger in such close proximity to a
submissive his body recognized as his own. He slid his hand across Stiles'
stomach and gave a tug to indicate where he wanted him to move.
"Move onto your side," Derek all but growled. Stiles quickly obeyed and rolled
over so that his back was to his Dom. Derek wrapped his arm around Stiles'
waist and pulled him back so that he was flush against him. He leaned into
Stiles' neck and rubbed his face against the sensitive skin, rumbling with
satisfaction as his submissive once again began to smell like a mixture of the
two of them. His hand worked its way under the soft cotton of Stiles' t-shirt
and Derek ran his fingers lightly across bare skin. It was just as warm as he
had imagined and he smiled as he heard a soft gasp escape Stiles, and his
heartbeat sped up even more. There was a soft trail of hair below Stiles' belly
button that disappeared into the flannel pajama pants and Derek wanted to
follow it with his tongue. He contented himself instead with tracing his
fingers teasingly around the indentation of navel before lightly running them
down to the waistband of the pants and back.
Even in the dark with just a hint of moonlight to illuminate the room, Derek's
super senses took over and he could hear the hitch in Stiles' breathing. He
could see Stiles was biting his lush lower lip, worrying at it with his teeth
until it was plump and red, and Derek was torn between wanting to hear the
delicious noises he knew Stiles must be holding back and covering those lips
with his own and swallowing them instead. His pretty boy was blushing hotly and
the dark flush of his skin ran down his neck to hide under the shirt he wore.
Derek wondered just how far down that flush went. He wouldn't find out, not
tonight when they weren't officially claimed, but he promised himself that
tomorrow he would follow that blush across those cheeks and down that neck with
his tongue and would trace it down as far as it would go.
The sweet and spicy scent of arousal coming from Stiles was growing stronger
and Derek's cock, which had been half hard since Stiles had dropped to his
knees next to the bed, hardened fully in response, straining against the tight
fit of his briefs. He could feel Stiles trembling in his arms with the effort
to stay still under his questing hands and ground against him lightly, causing
him to jerk in his arms. Derek made a soft shushing noise as he soothingly
nuzzled the sensitive patch of skin below Stiles' ear and pressed his lips
lightly to his neck before opening his mouth and sucking gently until he felt
the blood rising to the surface. The mark he left wasn't quite as dark as he
would have liked, but pleased him nonetheless. It would still be there tomorrow
when Stiles went to school, and everyone would know he was off limits. That he
belonged to someone.
Derek suddenly couldn't wait to have Stiles wearing his cuff. They would go
right after school to pick them out so they would have them for the claiming
ceremony, and tomorrow night he would have Stiles kneel for him wearing nothing
but the symbol of Derek's claim on him. His cock gave a hard twitch at the
image in his head.
When Stiles moaned softly, Derek closed his eyes to keep his control. When
Stiles ground back against him, he nearly lost it. He wanted. He wanted so much
to show Stiles the mysteries of his body, how to give and receive pleasure. It
would be so easy. His body thrummed with dominance like electricity and he knew
that all it would take was a word from him and Stiles would do anything he
commanded. His boy would be receptive, so eager to please and oh, so willing.
No. Derek wouldn't do that, he wouldn't command Stiles outside their official
claim. He could control himself.
He could.
===============================================================================
Stiles lay as quietly as he could. He could feel the heat from the muscled wall
of Derek's bare chest against his back, but that heat was nothing to the hot
and hard bulge he felt pressing against his ass. His Dom's fingers were still
lightly running up and down his happy trail and Stiles could feel the throb in
his neck where Derek had sucked a hickey. It was driving him crazy. He was hard
and he wanted...he didn't know what. He had never done this before, and judging
by all the porn he'd watched, by this point he was supposed to be getting
fucked into the mattress, or at least getting rimmed or fingered or something.
Derek's restraint was both a bit of a relief and a source of confusion.
Finally, Stiles had to say something. He had to know. "Sir?" he asked softly,
his voice just a little shaky. He nearly whimpered in protest when Derek's
fingers stopped stroking his belly.
"Yes?" Derek answered him. His voice sounded steady, and if it weren't for the
hard erection throbbing against his ass, Stiles would think Derek was
completely unmoved by the entire situation.
"Am I doing something wrong?" Stiles asked. He waited fearfully for the answer,
sure there must be something. He didn't want to mess up, he wanted to be a good
boy.
Derek leaned up on one elbow so he could look down at him. "No, of course not.
Why do you ask?"
Stiles shrugged one shoulder, feeling embarrassed. "You aren't touching me. I
mean, you are touching me, but I guess I just thought...never mind, I must be
more tired than I thought." Shut up, Stiles! he thought miserably. He settled
back against Derek and closed his eyes. "Good night, Sir."
===============================================================================
Derek felt the sizzle of dominance run up his spine and felt his cock throb in
response. So his boy wanted him to touch him. Derek could most certainly
oblige. He wouldn't take Stiles tonight, but that didn't mean he couldn't take
a small taste of the the sweet promise he held. Stiles was his, and there was
no reason he couldn't start getting him used to touching and being touched, to
feeling good. They both wanted it. Their bodies fit together perfectly as
though they were made for each other, like two matching puzzle pieces.
Derek moved to lay back down flush behind Stiles. He put his hand back on
Stiles' stomach where he had rucked the shirt up before and began stroking the
warm skin again. Only this time, instead of stopping at the waist of the pajama
pants, he worked his hand under them to toy with the waistband of the briefs
Stiles wore. His boy jerked in surprise and Derek whispered, "Easy now."
"Easy for you to say," Stiles retorted and Derek chuckled. He stayed where he
was for a moment, just running his fingers lightly under the elastic and out
again as he nuzzled below Stiles' ear before tracing his lips teasingly along
the edge of the delicate skin.
"Oh my god," groaned Stiles, and Derek was pleased to see goosebumps rise up on
his arms. He filed that little tidbit away for future reference and continued
to tease at the briefs that were quickly becoming an annoyance to him and
keeping him from what he wanted. He could hear the heavy pounding of Stiles'
heart and could feel the rapid rise and fall of his chest. This time, when he
ran his fingers under Stiles' briefs he kept going, moving with purpose and
sliding the offending clothing down until he was holding his hard cock in his
hand and giving it a gentle squeeze.
"Jesus Christ!" yelped Stiles, his entire body jerking in response. "Are you-
okay, we're actually-oh my god," he moaned, tossing his head back against
Derek's shoulder as his Dom began moving his hand.
Derek ran his hand lightly up and down Stiles' hard cock, mapping the silky
soft skin from tip to base with his fingertips and back up again. It throbbed
in his grasp and Derek could smell the sharp tang of precome. He ran his thumb
lightly over the tip to gather the moisture there, eliciting another shivering
moan from his submissive, wrapped his fist around the hard girth and began
stroking. Slow and easy at first, then faster when Stiles' hips began to move
of their own accord, fucking into his hand. Derek felt the stinging in his gums
as his canines lengthened, and he ground his hard cock against the plush
firmness of Stiles' ass. He was almost desperate for his own relief, but he
wasn't going to let go of Stiles long enough to get it. He had his boy right
where he wanted him; squirming, panting for breath and moaning, the soft curses
and pleas music to his ears.
It was one of the sexiest things Derek had ever seen. He couldn't remember
being this hot for any submissive, ever. There had been many who had satisfied
his need, even pleased him, but he had never come so close to losing control of
his wolf with anyone but Stiles. No other submissive had ever caused his teeth
to lengthen or his eyes to flash their bright blue. He pressed himself closer
to Stiles, grinding his hardness against him as he continued to stroke his
boy's cock.
Derek could tell Stiles was getting close. His movements were becoming more
erratic and his heartbeat was a rapid thud. His moans were growing louder, even
though Derek could tell he was trying to hold back. That wouldn't do. There
might be times he would keep Stiles quiet, but right now he wanted to hear
everything.
"God, you touching me is so much more different than-" Stiles gasped.
Except that. Derek stopped grinding against Stiles and slowed his hand's
movement on his cock, causing him to whine in protest. It felt like a cold
weight had settled on his chest. While Derek didn't necessarily expect for
Stiles to be a virgin, he had been under the impression that he was. He knew
from the file Peter had given him that Stiles was one of the youngest in his
class, even for all that he was a brilliant student. He had come into maturity
after all of his friends, and his tattooing had been less than a year ago.
Relations outside of a claim were not the norm, but it wasn't unheard of for
young unclaimed teens to experiment by touching each other. While it didn't
change his desire to claim Stiles, Derek felt a white hot flare of jealousy
that someone else had touched him like this, had heard his desperate pleas,
brought him to sweet release.
"Who was it?" he growled, still stroking Stiles slowly, just enough to keep him
on the brink of madness. He gave his cock a light squeeze and Stiles moaned
softly.
"Who was what?" Stiles asked, sounding confused and slightly out of breath.
Derek nipped at Stiles' ear. "You said me touching you was different, who else
touched you like this?" So I can make sure they never touch you again.
Stiles' face flushed hot and Derek caught the bitter scent of embarrassment.
"Shit. I said that out loud? I was thinking how different it was when you
touched me instead of when I touch myself. I mean, how is it you seem to know
how to touch me almost better than I do?"
Derek listened to Stiles' heartbeat and it never faltered. He was telling the
truth, and Derek felt the heaviness in his chest disappear as his wolf preened
in pleasure. Stiles was his, and he was the one making him feel this pleasure.
He was the only one who had made him feel like this. He tightened his hand and
began jerking Stiles at a fast pace, working him towards the edge again.
"Fuck!" Stiles gasped as Derek got him closer and closer. He threw one arm back
to wrap around Derek's neck and Derek buried his face in the tender juncture
where neck and shoulder met. He licked the soft surface before sucking another
bruise on the pale skin, resisting the urge to bite. Stiles would have his mark
visible on his neck, that was enough for now. Suddenly Stiles stiffened before
arching back against Derek, and a guttural groan ripped from his throat as he
came hot across Derek's hand.
Derek held Stiles for a moment, letting him catch his breath before kneeling
up. He pushed at Stiles' shoulders so that he lay flat on his back and moved
quickly to straddle his hips. With lightening flash movements he had Stiles' t-
shirt rucked up to his armpits, exposing his toned stomach, and had his own
briefs down around his thighs. Derek grunted as he jerked himself off fast and
urgent, using Stiles' come to slide his hand up and down his rock hard cock. He
tilted his head towards the ceiling and bared his teeth in a low growl when he
came, splashing white stripes of come across his submissives' belly.
The smell of their come mingled together and Derek growled again, a low,
pleased rumble. He used his come-covered hand to smear it all together over the
skin of Stiles' belly, scenting him in one of the most primal ways he could.
When he was satisfied that Stiles would smell of them both for days, Derek
leaned down and licked slowly over his stomach, cleaning him up and savoring
their taste on his tongue. When he finished, he made one final swipe with his
tongue to gather the last taste as he moved up Stiles' lithe and relaxed body,
slotting them together and marveling again over how well they fit together.
"You taste so good," Derek whispered before he pressed his lips to Stiles' for
the first time, encouraging him to part his lips. When Stiles hesitatingly
opened his mouth, Derek slid his tongue in, letting him taste the two of them.
A low moan escaped from Stiles, making Derek press harder. When he felt Stiles
licking back against his tongue to taste more, Derek moved his hands to the
headboard of the bed, trying desperately not to claw gouges in the wood. His
boy was so incredibly warm and eager, and his scent flooded all of Derek's
senses. That alone was enough to drive Derek nearly to the brink of insanity.
Parting left them both dazed. They stared at each other in stunned silence.
Derek ran his fingers lightly over the bruises he'd sucked onto Stiles' neck
before tracing his kiss-swollen lips with his thumb.
Stiles recovered enough to speak first. "Wow," he whispered with a small grin.
Derek silently agreed. Tonight had been amazing. Suddenly he was impatient for
their meeting with the magistrate. He wanted Stiles wearing his cuff and for
them to have a contract in place. Tomorrow night would be even better. He
rolled off of Stiles, smiling to himself when his boy protested. He pulled his
briefs back into place and rearranged Stiles' clothes before lying on his side
and pulling Stiles to him. A warm feeling of contentment settled in his chest
when Stiles cuddled back against him and sighed happily. His dominance had been
appeased, but now Derek knew a new hunger, and his body tingled with it.
"Tomorrow our claim will be official and you'll be mine," Derek whispered low
into Stiles' ear. He nuzzled the soft skin below the ear, which was becoming
one of his favorite spots. "Once our claim begins, all your orgasms belong to
me. You won't be punished for coming without permission tonight, but from here
on you won't come unless I say so."
Stiles shivered in his arms and gave a pleased hum when Derek tightened his arm
around his waist. "Yes, Sir," he whispered drowsily. Derek held his submissive
close, waiting for him to fall asleep in his arms before giving himself over to
slumber.
For the first time in years, he didn't dream of fire.
***** Chapter 5 *****
Chapter Notes
     So. I'm still alive and look! An update! I'm incredibly apologetic at
     how long it took me to get this written and posted. RL has been
     incredibly hectic and I have had a bit of a hard time coaxing my
     muse. Hopefully that is a thing of the past and the next update won't
     take as long. Thanks for sticking with me, guys. Each person who took
     the time to write a review or come to my tumblr and offer
     encouragement, it was all so very appreciated. I love you all so
     much!
      
     All my gratitude and affection to my brilliant beta, Sies, for all
     she does to keep me in line, and also to my beloved Shelley, who I
     should honestly just give beta cred because of the amount of time she
     spends brainstorming with me, reading over and suggesting ideas, and
     for our tumblr ask box conversations. Love you ladies so much! Sam, I
     hope this continues to make you happy. XOXO-
===============================================================================
Early morning light was beginning to fill the room when Derek felt the first
tugs of wakefulness. He was hard, which wasn't unusual. What was unusual was
that he wasn't alone. It was the first time Derek had ever woken up with a
submissive in his bed, and he was surprised that instead of awkwardness or
anxiety all he felt was a bone deep sense of satisfaction that the warm body
snuggled up against him smelled like his. He stretched slowly and carefully so
as not to wake the sleeping boy wrapped around him. At some point in time
during the night, Derek had moved to his back and Stiles had turned towards him
in his sleep. He had his arm wrapped around Stiles, who was sleeping soundly
with one arm and leg thrown across Derek, seeking the comfort and protection of
his Dom even in slumber. Stiles' lips were parted slightly and his long lashes
fanned his cheeks making him look almost angelic as he slept. The illusion of
innocence contrasted sharply with the smattering of dark marks visible on his
neck, silently proclaiming Derek's ownership. Derek's wolf preened as the Dom
drank in the sight of his boy marked up and sleeping soundly in their bed.
Derek looked over at the clock on his nightstand. It was just after 6AM. It had
been ages since he had slept through the entire night without being yanked
awake by nightmares of the kiss of fire flicking across his skin, the taste of
ash clogging his throat and the sound of mocking laughter falling from dark red
lips. Derek wasn't sure if he had dreamt the night before but what he did know
was that he had gotten his first good night's sleep in years. He wasn't sure
why things were different, but he wasn't about to question it, choosing instead
to simply be grateful for the gift he'd been given.
Derek had a few minutes before he needed to wake Stiles for school, and he was
determined to savor the early morning quiet before the chaos of the morning
intervened. Derek felt a pang of regret for not insisting that Stiles stay home
that day so that they could spend all day in bed exploring each other, and the
rumble in his chest let him know his wolf was not happy with the idea of
letting the boy out of his sight either. He placated them both with the
reminder that in just a few hours he would be at the magistrate with Stiles
negotiating their contract, and once the claim was official he would be free to
familiarize himself with every inch of his submissive at his leisure.
Stiles twitched in his sleep and mumbled something incoherent before nuzzling
in closer to Derek. His left hand splayed across Derek's chest, and Derek
couldn't resist gently toying with his fingers. He was finally able to look
closely at the black tattoo that proclaimed Stiles to be a submissive of
claimable age. The simple design was of a bird with its wings spread in flight.
As he studied the mark, he could hear Stiles' heartbeat pick up and knew his
submissive was waking up. Golden brown eyes flickered open sleepily, then
widened as he jerked fully awake.
"Dad?" Stiles quickly leaned up and looked around in panicked confusion.
"Shhh, it's okay," soothed Derek, letting go of Stiles' hand and rubbing his
back gently to calm him. He watched as Stiles rubbed his hand over his face and
looked at him. Recognition and embarrassment flooded Stiles' face, and he
cleared his throat nervously.
"Sorry," Stiles said sheepishly. "I didn't know where I was for a minute." The
boy then seemed to realize he was bodily wrapped around Derek and the sour
scent of embarrassment filled Derek's nostrils as Stiles flushed a delicate
pink. "Oh, damn, I'm sorry," Stiles mumbled as he tried to extricate himself.
Derek didn't like the idea of his submissive feeling anxious and unsettled so
instead of releasing him he tightened his grip and held him closer.
"I really don't mind," Derek assured him quietly. He knew that touch was
important to submissives, that there were times they craved it, other times
where it kept them grounded and secure. He was hardly going to complain that
his submissive was already turning to him for one of his basic needs and he
wasn't going to allow Stiles to be embarrassed about it, either. Determined to
set Stiles at ease, he took his hand again and lightly traced the tattoo. "I
like this."
When the tension eased from Stiles' muscles and he snuggled a little closer,
Derek mentally gave himself a pat on the back.
"It's a visual representation of my nickname, well, my other nickname," Stiles
chuckled. "Ptaszek. It means 'little bird' in Polish," he said softly. "It's
what my mom called me when she was alive. I know everyone thinks their mom is
the best mom but mine really was. She was my best friend. She's the only person
who ever really got me. I never had to explain anything to her, ever. It was
like she always just knew. When she died, I wouldn't let anyone call me that
anymore, not even my dad. That was hers. When I finally became of age and it
was time for my tattooing, I chose this for her. To show her I would always be
her good boy, her Ptaszek, even as I grew up and spread my wings." He shrugged
self-consciously and huffed a small laugh.
In reply, Derek raised his own left hand from where it had been resting on
Stiles' shoulder, stroking it with his thumb. Stiles twisted and ducked out
from under Derek's arm and propped himself up on his elbow, settling alongside
him. He took Derek's hand and studied the red design closely, eyes wide with
wonder and curiosity.
"Wow," Stiles breathed. "Is that what I think it is?"
"Yeah," answered Derek. "When I was ready for my tattooing, I went online to
find something that was a sort of fire symbol. Given my history, the phoenix
seemed fitting. Reborn in fire and rising out of the ashes, I'm not generally
one for symbolism but it spoke to me in a way that nothing else did. I got this
to honor the fact that I'm still here, that I survived but also so that it
could serve as a memorial for what I lost and a reminder as to why. I see it
every day and remember." He tightened his hand into a fist, then rolled over
and sat up, turning his back to Stiles. Derek hated the sudden scent of hurt
confusion coming from his submissive, but he didn't want to talk about it
anymore. No doubt Stiles either remembered the story of the Hale fire, or had
heard the rumors that still cropped up from time to time. It rankled him to
think that his family tragedy had been reduced to fuel for the rumor mill, that
everyone he passed on the street knew that because of him thinking with his
dick and being stupid enough to believe in love had been the colossal fuck up
that had cost him nearly everything. Derek took a quick glimpse at the clock
and saw with a sense of relief that it was past time to be getting ready. He
stood up and stretched before turning back to Stiles. "It's time for you to get
dressed. Breakfast will be served soon."
Stiles slowly got out of bed, his movements hesitant and unsure. It was obvious
he thought he had done something wrong and Derek couldn't allow his sub to take
responsibility for things that were beyond his control. It wasn't Stiles' fault
that Derek's past was an open wound that he had yet to heal and couldn't stand
talking about. He quickly crossed around to the other side of the room and
pulled Stiles to him so he could rest their foreheads against each other. He
breathed in their mingled scent and rubbed his stubbled cheek against the
tender curve of the boy's neck, giving into the urge to scent him even more.
"You didn't do anything wrong, Stiles. My past is a sore subject for me and I'd
rather not discuss it, but that has nothing to do with you. You're my good boy.
You go ahead and take the bathroom, and I'll meet you downstairs in the
kitchen."
The small smile Stiles gave him was still a little unsure, but his eyes were
bright and clear. Derek watched him walk into the bathroom, then crossed over
to the dresser and opened the top drawer. He pulled out the folded flannel
shirt, t-shirt and jeans that were inside and laid them on the bed. He found
the sneakers Stiles had kicked off into a corner the night before and put them
on the trunk along with clean socks. Laying out the clothes for his submissive
was a mundane sort of thing, but Derek found himself enjoying it and actually
looking somewhat forward to when he had more wardrobe to select from. He then
grabbed his own clothes and dashed down the hall to one of the guest bathrooms
to answer nature's call and get dressed himself.
When Derek got downstairs, Peter was already sitting at the head of the table,
forking eggs into his mouth while reading the morning paper. Erica was yawning
as she poured two mugs of coffee, adding cream and sugar to them both and
stirring before carrying them to the table. She put one down next to Peter and
sat in the chair next to him, where her own plate was. She gave Derek a little
smile of greeting as she began buttering a piece of toast. The side door opened
and Boyd held it for Laura as she walked into the room, followed by a sleepy
looking Isaac.
Peter took a sip of coffee and closed his eyes appreciatively. "Perfect as
always, my pet," he said to Erica, stroking her neck lightly as she preened
under his praise. He turned his shrewd gaze to Derek and gave him a smug smile.
"Well, good morning. You look well rested."
Derek grunted in reply. What happened in his bedroom wasn't anyone's business
but his.
Peter took another sip of his coffee and took a moment to ruffle Isaac's curls
affectionately before continuing with obvious enjoyment, "Yes, it's been ages
since I've seen you so relaxed. I didn't hear you up and prowling around in the
middle of the night like you normally do. How very interesting."
Laura didn't say anything but watched Derek with unabashed interest. Derek was
saved from saying anything when a flustered looking Stiles was shown into the
dining room by a smiling house submissive. "Sorry," he said sheepishly, running
a hand awkwardly through his hair and tousling it. "I got turned around."
A wave of guilt rolled over Derek. Of course Stiles wasn't familiar with the
house just yet. He should have waited for him and shown him the way himself
instead of leaving his submissive to his own devices. "It's okay," he said,
"It's my fault for not making sure you knew where you were going. I'll be sure
to give you a tour later on so you know your way around. Are you hungry?"
Stiles gave him a sunny grin. "Famished. Sir."
Derek pointedly ignored Erica's giggle and held his hand out to Stiles. "Come
on, let me show you the set up. We usually do breakfast buffet style. There are
the usual things; eggs, sausage, bacon, home fries, toast, you get the idea.
There's also fruit, yogurt, cereal, or oatmeal, if you prefer. If there's
something you want that isn't there, the kitchen can fix it. Just let me know
what you want."
Derek stifled a grin as Stiles eyed the food with equal parts hunger and
wonder. "Jeez, it's like being in a hotel or something!" He motioned to the
stacked plates and gave Derek a shy glance. "Do you want me to fix my own, or
should I tell you what I'd like or what?"
Derek felt a pleasant rush of contentment flow through him that his sub was
already looking to him to provide guidance and care. His satisfaction was
short-lived when he realized that he didn't know what Stiles would like to eat,
let alone any possible allergies he might have or any of the other little
details he'd need to know in order to properly care for him. Derek frowned at
his revelation. That wouldn't do at all. He would have to remedy that as soon
as possible. A quick glance at Stiles showed him nervously looking down as
though he thought he was the reason for Derek's displeasure. He reached out and
placed a gentle hand on his submissive's neck.
"It's okay," Derek reassured Stiles. "I just realized that I don't know what
you'd like for breakfast, among other things. Here's what we're going to do; I
want you to fix your own breakfast this morning, and we'll talk later and get
to know one another a bit better. I plan to take very good care of you," he
whispered as he leaned over and nuzzled Stiles' neck, re-scenting his favorite
spot just below his ear and smiling when his boy gave a little shiver in
response. "Hurry, though. We need to leave soon if you are going to make it to
school on time."
Stiles looked at the clock and jumped when he realized how late it was getting.
Erica and Isaac had already left the table and a service submissive was
clearing the dirty dishes while Laura and Boyd ate and Peter feigned
disinterest as he pretended to read the paper. Derek handed him a plate and
watched as he quickly piled it with scrambled eggs and bacon and hurried to the
table to eat. Derek filled a bowl with oatmeal and sprinkled it with cinnamon
and sugar before adding a dollop of milk to it and stirring as he walked over
to sit next to Stiles. They ate in silence, the only sound the scraping of
utensils on glassware and the rustle of Peter's newspaper. Stiles finished his
breakfast before Derek and watched while Derek finished the last of his
oatmeal. When Derek placed his empty bowl on the table, Stiles stood and moved
to take the dishes. Derek put a hand on his to stop him, and Stiles looked at
him in confusion.
"It's okay, Stiles. The house subs will clear the table," Peter said as he
stood up. "I'm sure I'll see you around school at some point. Derek, don't
forget our appointment at Deaton's this afternoon."
Derek barely restrained himself from rolling his eyes. As if he would possibly
forget to be at the magistrate's office to legalize his claim on Stiles. He
shot his uncle an irritated look and said, "I'll be taking Stiles after school
to purchase our cuffs. Don't worry, we'll be on time."
Peter smirked at him. "See to it that you are." He nodded at them and walked
briskly out of the room.
Laura and Boyd rose from their seats. "I should be going as well," Laura said,
smiling at Boyd with affection as he handed her briefcase. "I'll see you when
you get home this evening. At least say hi before you hustle up to your room to
do newly-claimed things to each other, okay? Have a good day at school, Stiles.
Good luck on your test." She shot Derek a wicked grin. "Don't wear yourself out
too much working off steam, Der. Save some energy for tonight." She laughed
when Stiles's cheeks flushed and the tips of Derek's ears turned bright red.
Having successfully needled both of them, Laura blew them a kiss and walked out
of the dining room with Boyd in tow.
"You are a terrible person and if I didn't like you, I really wouldn't like
you!" yelled Derek at her retreating figure. He huffed out an exasperated
breath and turned to Stiles, trying not to get distracted by the blush still
staining his cheeks. "Do you have everything you need? We really should get
going." When Stiles nodded, Derek took his keys out of his pocket. "Good boy.
Let's go."
Derek led Stiles to the large multi-car garage. Several vehicles were parked
inside and there was a faint odor of gasoline, motor oil and car wax that
permeated the place. Derek led Stiles to his black Camaro and unlocked it.
"This is your car?" asked Stiles, eyes wide in surprise.
Derek arched a brow at him. "You were expecting maybe I'd be driving the FJ
Cruiser over there?" he asked drily as he pointed towards a Toyota in the
corner of the garage before gesturing for Stiles to get in. Once he got Stiles
in the car and safely buckled up, Derek cranked the Camaro. The engine roared
to life with a loud rumble that dropped to a low growl. He hit the button on
his remote to open the automatic garage door and pulled out. It was not a far
drive to the school, but he didn't want to chance getting caught in traffic. If
he got Stiles to school late, Laura and Peter were sure to assume the worst and
make obnoxious comments, and he would be dealing with them enough already as it
was. Stiles cracked his window slightly and the breeze that blew in carried his
scent to tease at Derek's nostrils. Derek tightened his grip on the steering
wheel and wished again that he had just kept Stiles in bed all day, Harris and
his stupid test be damned. Stiles tilted his head back and hummed happily,
exposing the dark hickeys Derek had left on his neck and causing his wolf to
growl possessively. When Stiles licked his lips, it took all of Derek's
willpower not to turn the car around and drive straight home, toss Stiles over
his shoulder caveman style and carry him up to their bed to show him just how
masterful of a Dom he could be.
When he pulled up to the school, Derek breathed a small sigh of relief that
he'd made it without losing his cool. Stiles smiled shyly at him from his seat
as he gathered up his backpack.
"Well, I guess I'll see you after school. Should I meet you here?" Stiles asked
as he opened the car door and moved to get out.
Instead of answering, Derek reached across the console and caught Stiles by the
hand. He tugged his submissive towards him and caught his lips in a bruising,
possessive kiss that left them both breathless. He ended the kiss with a little
nip to Stiles's bottom lip, running his hands lightly over his boy's cheeks and
neck, needing to scent him one more time before letting him get out to the car.
He leaned in to touch their foreheads together, taking one last breath of their
mingled scents before whispering, "Here is fine. Have a good day and be a good
boy."
"Yes, sir," breathed Stiles as he clambered out of the car. He headed for the
front steps of the school, stopping once to look back to smile and wave at
Derek one last time before he disappeared into the crowd.
Derek took a deep breath and let it out slowly. He wiggled in the seat, moving
to adjust himself where he'd gotten half hard after kissing Stiles, and put the
car in drive. He needed to run or jerk off, possibly both. Turning in the
direction of the Preserve, he drove quickly, needing to work off some steam. If
he didn't, he was not going to make it through cuff shopping or a claiming
ceremony without embarrassing himself.
===============================================================================
Stiles walked quickly through the hallway, heading for his locker. He wasn't
sure if he was more relieved or disappointed that Derek had stopped kissing him
so quickly in the car. His body buzzed with the need to submit, and if Derek
had just said the word, Stiles would have done anything he asked. He felt a
little out of sorts and wondered if he should find Lydia. She was always able
to calm him when he was on edge about anything. He opened his locker and
swapped the books in his bag for the ones he would need for morning classes.
Just as he slammed the door shut, an excited voice yelled his name, and he
braced for impact as Scott came rushing towards him.
"Stiles!" Scott yelped happily as he threw his arms around Stiles in an
affectionate hug. "Dude! How was your first night? Are you a man now?" he
teased with a huge grin. Before Stiles could answer the smile slid off of
Scott's face, his eyes went wide and his nostrils flared. He leaned towards
Stiles and took another quick sniff and then stumbled back a couple of steps,
shaking his head slightly and rubbing at his nose. He looked so much like a
puppy that had had its nose swatted that Stiles had to laugh.
"Is there some sort of problem?" Stiles asked.
Scott rubbed his nose again with a rueful laugh. "It's weird smelling another
wolf on you and my wolf isn't sure he likes it," Scott confessed. "I'm not
saying I'm jealous or that you smell weird," he said hastily when Stiles looked
affronted. "I just mean you smell different. You still smell like you, but also
like you rolled around in another wolf's scent, and it's just gonna take a
little getting used to. So um, anyway how was your first night with your Dom?
Was he good to you? Is he all you hoped for? More importantly, have you
shredded your V card?"
"Wow, Scott, don't hold back or anything," Stiles shot back as they walked to
their first class.
"Well, your neck is covered in hickeys, and you practically reek of sex so I
just figured," Scott stated cheerfully. When Stiles sputtered and flushed a
deep red, he laughed. "It's cool, man, I'm really happy for you. So gimme the
deets man, how was it?"
Stiles punched him in the shoulder and then winced and shook his hand. "Damn
werewolves," he groused. "Maybe I'm not the kind of boy to kiss and tell? Did
you ever think about that?"
"Hey, don't be embarrassed. You can tell me anything. Besides, it's only fair,"
protested Scott. "I told you about my first night with Allison."
"I know, I remember," groaned Stiles. "You told me in explicit and excruciating
detail. Not enough brain bleach in the world, Scotty. You told me things about
you I could have quite happily gone my whole life without knowing."
"And here I am, offering to let you get pay back. You think I want to think
about you like that? I'd rather make out with Jackson than think about you
getting your freak on. But you're my best friend and this is what best friends
do. You don't have to tell me anything but I'm here for you if you ever have
questions or just want to talk about stuff," Scott said earnestly as they took
their seats in class.
Stiles couldn't help but smile at his best friend. "I know." His smile turned
slightly wicked. "To answer your question, though, I'm pretty sure I'm not a
virgin anymore. Like, I haven't had any penetrative sex yet, but someone's hand
other than mine has touched my dick and there were orgasms involved. It was
fucking awesome."
Scott swallowed and gave him a weak smile. "Well, I asked, didn't I?"
"McCall, Stilinski, I hate to interrupt your undoubtedly fascinating
conversation, but if it wouldn't be too much trouble, perhaps you could turn
your attention to the test that I'm passing out instead of yipping like a
couple of unruly pups who need to be brought to heel," cut in Dom Harris
sarcastically. "McCall, don't think that I won't get your Domme in here again.
And Stilinski, you might have somehow managed to miracle your way into being
claimed by one of the Hales, but don't expect that to get you any preferential
treatment in my class. You step so much as a toe out of line and I'll have you
on your knees in the corner so fast your head will spin."
Stiles and Scott both quickly spun to face the front of the class, heads ducked
in apology as papers were handed out. The test began and Stiles found it was a
struggle to stay focused on it. He felt strangely disconnected somehow, like he
was floating in a weird sort of fog, and he couldn't understand what the
problem was. He had taken his Adderall before breakfast and hadn't played with
his dosage recently so he should have been fine. It was a lucky break that he
knew the material well enough to get through the test and turn it in. Stiles
was aware of Scott glancing at him from time to time and looking more concerned
with each look. By the end of class, Stiles was jiggling his leg under his desk
nervously and was beginning to break out in a light sweat.
"Are you alright? You don't look so hot. You aren't getting sick, are you?"
Scott asked worriedly as they gathered their bags and walked to their next
class. "Did you remember to eat breakfast?"
"Yeah, I ate," Stiles answered as nausea rolled through him. He groaned and
leaned against a row of lockers. "I don't know what's wrong with me. I was fine
earlier!"
"Stiles? What's wrong?" demanded Lydia. "You look like you're about to pass
out." She rushed to him, pushing her way through curious onlookers with Jackson
and Danny close behind her. She put a cool hand on his forehead. "You don't
feel feverish, but do you need to go to the nurse?"
Stiles shook his head, shivering slightly. "I don't know what the problem is,
Lyds. Sorry, I mean Mistress Lydia. I was fine up until just a little while
ago. Now I feel all nauseated and weird, like I'm here but not here. And my
chest has a strange ache in it, like I can't breathe."
Lydia looked at him shrewdly. "It sounds almost like you're experiencing sub
sickness."
"I have no idea what you're talking about," Stiles ground out as he clutched at
his stomach again.
"They'll teach you about it when you start going to new claims class,"
explained Lydia patiently. "I'm a bit surprised you're having this happen; it
usually doesn't occur until much later in a claim when a submissive and
Dominant are more attuned to each other, unless—"
"As intriguing as this all is, and with all due respect, can you just tell me
what's wrong with me?" Stiles cut Lydia off, blanching as his stomach
threatened to rebel.
"Sub sickness happens when a submissive doesn't get dominated over a certain
amount of time," Lydia explained. "It can also happen if a submissive gets, uh,
worked up, shall we say, and isn't dominated at that time. It's kind of common
in new claims where a Dom and sub are learning each other, but like I said, it
usually doesn't happen until a submissive is more in tune to their Dom and
their body expects a certain amount of dominance. That or…just tell me, were
you dominated this morning?"
Stiles' cheeks flushed a deep red that stood out stark against the pallor that
had come across him when the nausea first started. "No, but god, are you
kidding me? He kissed me goodbye and that's all it takes to set me off?"
Lydia let out a relieved breath and nodded. "So that's all it is. Do you want
me to take you to the nurse and have them call Derek to come Dom you?" She
asked, placing her hand on Stiles neck and rubbing it lightly.
Stiles leaned into her hand, feeling a little better already just from the
familiar touch. "No, let's not do that. I don't want him thinking I'm too needy
or clingy or anything like that before our claim is even legal. He's being
really considerate and careful not to do anything outside wrong outside of the
claim. I'll be fine."
"Are you sure?" asked Danny in concern as Stiles pushed away from the lockers
only to crumple to the floor.
"Yeah, Stilinski," Jackson chimed in. "You aren't looking so great. Like worse
than usual."
"Not now, Jackson," snapped Lydia. "Help me get him out of the hallway." They
pulled Stiles to his feet and maneuvered him into an empty classroom. He
stumbled and nearly fell, wincing as another wave of nausea roiled up through
his body.
"Damn it, he can't make it to the nurse's station like this. Scott, go to the
front office and find the Headmaster. Tell him what's going on," Lydia
instructed, waving him away. When Scott hesitated with a distressed whine,
concerned for Stiles, she whirled to face him. "Now, Scott!" she snapped.
"Stiles is in real trouble right now and he needs help! I know what to do, but
there's only so much I can do. I know that you don't want to leave him but
Stiles needs you to do this. I know that Allison is your Domme but right now I
need you to follow my instructions and go get the Headmaster so he can call
Derek and have him come for Stiles." Scott nodded and with a final worried
glance at Stiles, he ran out of the room.
Lydia turned to Jackson and gestured to the corner. "I need you to bring me one
of those kneeling pads, my sweet. Hurry, that's my good boy!" Jackson grabbed
one of the cushions from the corner and tossed it on the floor. Lydia pushed
Stiles towards it, muttering to herself about stubborn submissives who wouldn't
call for their Dom when they needed them.
Stiles was breathing in heavy gasps, eerily similar to the panic attacks he had
gone through after his mother died. His entire body shook with tremors and his
skin was clammy with a cold sweat. "Kneel, Stiles," Lydia ordered in a sharp
tone heavy with dominance. He obeyed immediately, dropping to his knees on the
cushioned pad.
"Good boy," encouraged Lydia and Stiles' entire body convulsed as it reacted.
"Now, I want you to breathe. Slowly, now, that's it. One, two, in, out. Now
again, with me," she said, breathing in and out as she whipped off the ribbon
holding her hair back and used it to tie Stiles' wrists together. The binding
seemed to help calm him even more as he matched her breathing, and he finally
began to relax. Lydia placed her hand on his neck and began to stroke it,
letting the touch comfort and ground him.
"Danny, bring me a chair," she requested softly as Stiles closed his eyes. He
was feeling exhausted and his head was hurting, but he finally felt the fog
begin to clear. The ribbon around his wrists was snug but not enough to be
painful, and he felt as though he was back in his own body again and not about
to vibrate out of his skin. Danny brought the requested chair over for Lydia
and held it steady for her to sit in. "Good boy, Danny," she praised him as she
sat down and encouraged Stiles to lay his head on her knee. He did as she
directed, keeping his eyes closed and enjoying the steady touch of her hand
running through his hair before resuming its stroking of his neck.
Everyone jumped as door banged open and Scott came running in, followed closely
by a concerned Peter. "What's going on here?" he demanded, taking in the sight
that greeted him; his nephew's submissive on his knees and bound at the wrists,
with his head resting on the knee of one of the school's most gifted Dommes
while both of her own submissives stood protectively behind her.
"Headmaster," greeted Lydia calmly. "I'm afraid Stiles was hit with a rather
nasty bout of sub sickness. He was already too far gone for us to get him to
the nurse without having to carry him and possibly injure him, so we brought
him in here. I got him through the worst of it, but I believe he needs his
Dom."
Peter started in surprise at her words. "Sub sickness? So soon? They aren't
even claimed yet. That's practically unheard of, except in cases where-" He
broke off and looked thoughtful. "Well, well. How very interesting," he said,
more to himself than to the gathered students who were looking at him
curiously, except for Lydia who gave him a knowing look. He walked over and
tilted Stiles' face up gently by the chin. "Stiles? Do you think you can stand
up now?" he asked.
Stiles nodded weakly. "I think so, Sir."
"That's a good boy," praised Peter as Stiles shakily pushed up from the floor,
a bit awkwardly with his wrists bound. Danny stepped over to help support him
and Lydia smiled at her submissive proudly. Stiles swayed a bit but was able to
stand. When it was apparent that the worst was over, he looked around the room
at his friends and gave them an embarrassed smile.
"Sorry, guys," Stiles said softly. "And thanks. I don't know what I would have
done without all of you." His breath left him in a woosh as Scott bounded over
to him and threw his arms around him tightly.
"Dude, don't do that to me ever again," whispered Scott, distress still evident
in his voice. He laid his head on Stiles' shoulder and the two submissives
stood together, drawing comfort from each other. Stiles watched as Peter took
out his phone and dialed a number.
"Derek," Peter greeted tersely when he answered. "You're needed at the school.
It's Stiles."
===============================================================================
Derek rushed around his room, struggling to tug clothes on his still damp body,
droplets of water falling onto his shoulders from his barely dried hair. He had
gone for a long run in the Preserve and come home to take a hot, leisurely
shower where he had jerked off to the memory of Stiles' soft moans and pleas
the night before and to the fantasy of having Stiles on his knees before him,
those luscious pink lips wrapped around his cock. A strange ache had started in
his chest, but he had felt relaxed and clearheaded as he stepped out of the
shower. He had just grabbed his towel to dry off when his phone rang with
Peter's ring tone. The Alpha never called him while he was working, so Derek
answered the call quickly. Peter's words had set him in motion and he had
tossed the towel aside, having only haphazardly dried himself off.
Derek cursed under his breath as he ran his belt through the loops of his jeans
and located a pair of shoes. He thought for the hundredth time that he should
have kept Stiles home with him. There was no way of knowing that Stiles would
get hit with sub sickness, especially so early and before they were in any sort
of routine, but Derek still felt guilty. He had his keys in hand and was
getting into the Camaro when his phone rang again.
"I'm on the way, Lola," he said as he answered the call.
"Hello to you, too, and I figured you were," Laura answered him dryly. "I was
calling to let you know Stiles is okay. He's in the nurse's station drinking
some water and they are keeping him on his knees for the time being. Lydia did
a good job of getting him through the worst. She's still with him now, but
he'll feel better with you. He's been excused from classes for the rest of the
day."
Derek frowned. "What do you mean, Lydia got him through the worst?"
"He was in really bad shape, Der," Laura said. "I've never seen a case like it
at the school, but that's probably because most of the claims here are among
the students and the claimed pair aren't apart for long and are able to address
needs much more quickly. He had to be dominated, and fast. There was no time
for them to get him to the nurse. Lydia put him on his knees and put him
through breathing exercises. They're extremely close and she told me she had
helped him through panic attacks when they were younger, so she had an idea of
what to do. And she kept a cool head throughout it all, which is lucky. That
girl is one smart Domme. I know you don't like the idea of another Dominant
tending your submissive but it had to be done."
Derek growled low in the back of his throat. He hated the fact that his
submissive had to be cared for by another Dominant. It set his wolf on edge and
raised his hackles. "I should have kept him home with me," he said flatly. "I
should have known better so I could have been there when he needed me." What
kind of Dom am I? I've had him less than a day and I've already failed him.
Laura heaved out a sigh. "Derek, you can't beat yourself up over this. You had
no way of knowing he would become ill. Peter says it's extremely rare for it to
happen like this. This has no bearing on your ability to be a good Dom! I know
you're older and more experienced, but you have to remember this is your first
claim, too. There are things you learn along the way once you're in a claim.
Sub Clubs don't prepare you for anything like this. There's no way for them to.
He's going to be just fine, I promise, and you getting here is going to make
him that much better."
Derek turned into the school entryway and parked in the staff parking lot. "I'm
here," he said as he got out and locked the car behind him. "I'll be inside in
just a second."
"Alright," said Laura. "I have class so I probably won't see you, but we'll
talk later."
Derek hit the end button without answering and strode into the office where he
quickly signed himself in and Stiles out. He nodded in response to the greeting
the secretary behind the desk called out and briskly made his way to the
nurse's office. When he walked in, he tensed at the sight of Stiles on his
knees with his hands bound at the wrist, kneeling with his head in Lydia's lap.
His eyes were closed as she ran her fingers through his hair. Jealousy snaked
through him and it took all he had not to demand that she get away from his
submissive. Reminding himself that she had helped Stiles in his time of need,
he cleared his throat gruffly to alert them to his presence. Stiles jerked
upright and Derek felt mollified somewhat by the relief in his boy's eyes when
they met his.
"Derek! Sir!" Stiles said, relaxing noticeably. He looked down, kneeling with
his bound hands on his knees and in perfect submissive posture. Derek felt a
hot surge race through him all the way from the top of his head to the tips of
his toes and back up to center in his groin. He walked over to Stiles and
cupped his cheek gently, catching his breath when his boy nuzzled into his
hand. "Are you okay?" he asked quietly.
Stiles nodded, eyes looking slightly more focused. "Yeah. Better now that
you're here, Sir," he confessed.
"Good," Derek answered, keeping his hand reassuringly on his submissive. He
turned to Lydia and nodded at her. "I owe you my thanks," he said gruffly. He
wanted to push Stiles behind him and demand that she never touch him again, but
he knew he was being irrational and that Lydia truly had done him a favor.
"Stiles is one of my best friends," Lydia stated simply as she stood up, her
eyes never leaving Derek's. "I was happy to be there when he needed me." She
looked at Stiles and her eyes softened for a moment before she turned back to
Derek. She stepped to him and placed a hand on his arm. "Take good care of
him," she entreated softly. "He has so much to offer a dominant." She gathered
her things and crossed over to Stiles, who was still kneeling quietly. "Take
care, Stiles. Be good," she said with a quick caress of his neck, much to
Derek's displeasure. She gave Derek a brief nod before exiting the room.
Derek tamped down his irritation and jealousy. Stiles was his priority now and
he needed to focus on him. He ran his thumb lightly over Stiles' lower lip,
smiling when his eyes fluttered shut. "Let's get you home," he said quietly.
"We can lay down for a while before lunch, and then if you're feeling better we
can go cuff shopping earlier than we originally planned. Do you need me to keep
your wrists bound?"
Stiles looked at his hands in surprise as though he had forgotten all about
them. "No, I think I'll be okay. Honestly, I feel so much better now. My chest
isn't hurting or anything. Thank you for coming to get me, I'm really sorry you
had to."
Derek looked at him in surprise. "Don't be ridiculous. While we're claimed I'll
always take care of you."
Stiles shifted on his feet and pinned Derek with his warm, honey colored gaze.
"Okay," he whispered.
Derek pulled on the ribbon to loosen it and free Stiles' wrists. A faint
outline was pressed into his skin, but it hadn't been tight enough to hurt or
affect the circulation. Derek grudgingly had to admit that Lydia Martin knew
what she was doing. The ribbon carried the scent of her shampoo and he looked
at it with a faint hint of distaste before dropping it in the nearby trashcan.
There was a hand sanitizer dispenser on the wall and he squirted some in his
hand and rubbed them together briskly while he waited for Stiles to get his
things together.
When Stiles was ready, Derek put a hand on the small of his back, knowing the
touch of his Dom would help to keep him steady. He led Stiles out of the school
and to his car. He silently opened the passenger side door and motioned for
Stiles to put his bag in the backseat before helping his still shaky submissive
into the car. Once he was sure Stiles was arranged comfortably in the seat,
Derek buckled the seatbelt for him and shut the door. He jogged around to the
drivers' side and hopped in. The sooner he got Stiles home, the better.
They rode home in silence, Derek still mentally berating himself but keeping a
reassuring hand on Stiles' knee. In the close quarters of the car he became
aware that not only did Stiles smell heavily of Lydia, he also smelled like
another werewolf. His wolf paced restlessly in his chest at what it felt like
was a challenge to his claim, but he didn't want to upset Stiles any further by
giving in to his baser instincts. Forcing himself to keep his voice casual, he
said, "You smell like another wolf."
Stiles chuckled weakly. "That's the second time I've heard that today."
Derek waited a moment for him to elaborate, and unable to help himself,
prompted, "Is that right?"
Stiles nodded. "Yeah. My best friend Scott is a werewolf." He laughed softly
before continuing. "He said this morning that I smelled like I'd been rolling
around in another wolf's scent. After the sickness passed he was pretty clingy,
so I'm not really surprised I smell like him now. He's more like my brother
than my best friend so I'll probably smell like him a lot. He told it would
take his wolf some time to get used to your scent on me so I'm guessing it's
the same for you? I'm sorry if it makes you upset or uncomfortable but Scott
isn't anyone to worry about. He's stupid in love with his Domme and straighter
than a ruler."
Derek silently nodded as he turned the car into the Hale driveway. He pulled up
to the front door and one of the house subs hurried out to meet them. Derek got
out and tossed him the keys, then crossed around to open the door and help
Stiles out himself.
"Come on," Derek said gently. "Let's go to our room. Just leave your bag, we'll
get it later." He kept a hand on Stiles' waist as he guided him up the stairs.
Once they got inside the bedroom, he guided Stiles into the bathroom and
started warm water running in the Jacuzzi tub. "Go ahead and take your clothes
off."
"You mean right now?" Stiles squeaked.
Derek walked over and took Stiles gently by the shoulders. "You were very sick,
Stiles. A nice, warm bath will do you a world of good. We can turn on the jets
and it will soothe you and relax your muscles. Don't take this the wrong way,"
he said wryly, "but right now you smell strongly of another dominant and
another wolf, and it's early enough in our relationship that it's putting me
and my wolf on edge. I'm not angry with you, but I need to get those scents off
of you so I can scent you again myself. Plus right now I really need to take
care of you. Will you let me do that? Do you trust me to take care of you?"
Stiles' eyes were huge in his pale face. He swallowed heavily and nodded his
head jerkily. "I-yes, sir. I do. I trust you."
Derek gave him a small but pleased smile. "Thank you. Now if it will make you
feel more comfortable right now, I'll turn my back this time while you strip,
but I'm not leaving. You're still weak from earlier and I don't want you
unattended. Having said that, you will need to get used to me seeing you
without clothes. So really there's no time like the present."
It seemed that Stiles hesitated for a mere breadth of a moment, but he
swallowed hard and nodded. Derek leaned against the wall and watched with open
interest. He had gotten tantalizing glimpses of his submissive's body the night
before, but now he could look his fill in the light of day.
Stiles moved agonizingly slow as he kicked off his shoes and socks and began
removing his clothes. Were it not for the anxious pounding of his heart and the
smell of nervousness coming from him, he could have been doing an unhurried
tease. Derek stayed where he was, still and calm, breathing evenly. His
appreciative gaze watched as the barrier of clothing disappeared, Stiles first
peeling off his shirts and then tugging his jeans down and kicking his legs
free, until finally bare flesh was exposed. Derek was a bit surprised as he
realized just how much the baggy jeans and layers of flannel and cotton did to
camouflage the strength and beauty of the boy's frame. Stiles had broad
shoulders with a smoothly muscled chest and toned stomach. A dark line of hair
led down from below his navel and disappeared into the briefs he still wore.
Dark moles were sprinkled across his back and his cotton covered ass looked
round and firm. His thighs were nicely muscled and Derek instinctively knew
they would feel amazing wrapped around his waist, holding him while he thrust
into his submissive.
A quick glance at the tub showed that it was ready. "I'm going to turn the
water off now," Derek said so as not to startle Stiles by suddenly moving from
where he'd been standing in silent admiration. He walked to the tub and turned
the water off, then turned back and held a hand out to Stiles. "I'll help you
in before I turn the jets on. Go ahead and take your briefs off."
Stiles bit his lower lip and looked away as he shimmied out of his briefs, the
innocent sensuality nearly causing Derek to groan out loud. Seeing his
submissive fully nude for the first time wasn't helping. Even Stiles' s cock
was pretty, lying pink and soft between his legs and surrounded by a thatch of
dark curls. Derek could see his ass in the reflection of the mirror and it was
just as delightfully round as his form-fitting briefs had hinted. When Stiles
placed his hand in Derek's, it took iron-clad control not to simply pull his
boy to him and run his hands over every inch of newly exposed skin. A hint of
Lydia's perfume wafted to him in the increasingly warm air and reminded Derek
that he had a dual purpose in bathing his submissive.
"Come on, then, in you go," Derek said as he helped Stiles into the tub. Once
he was in the water and reclined back, Derek hit the button to activate the
jets. A pleasured sigh escaped Stiles as they massaged his body, and Derek
curled his hands into fists, claws pricking at the surface of skin. Reminding
himself yet again that he was an experienced dominant, he pulled a small stool
to the side of the tub and rested his forearms on the edge. He watched quietly
as Stiles relaxed in the bubbling water with his eyes closed, skin flushing
pink from the heat and muscles slowly losing their tension. Derek almost hated
to make him move, but he was feeling the need to hold his boy close to him in
their bed.
"Stiles, get your hair wet for me and I'll start getting you cleaned up," Derek
said as he grabbed a bottle of his own shampoo.
===============================================================================
Stiles jumped slightly in the warm water. He had been so relaxed he had nearly
dozed off. It was a pleasant surprise that he was already comfortable enough in
Derek's presence that he could let his guard down completely. Sleepily opening
his eyes, he looked at his Dom. Derek's eyes were framed by dark lashes and
were an intense green.
"Wet your hair for me, Stiles. I don't expect to have to repeat myself," Derek
said softly.
Stiles shivered and his eyelashes fluttered as submission flowed through him,
as warm and soothing as the bath he relaxed in. "Yes Sir," he whispered.
Ducking under the water, he thoroughly wet his hair as he was told. When he sat
up and wiped the water from his face, Derek already had shampoo in his hand and
was ready. His Dom rubbed his hands together and began massaging it into his
wet hair in slow, steady movements, using his nimble fingers to rub gently into
Stiles' scalp. A low moan of pleasure escaped from Stiles as his eyes closed
again. He noticed that Derek was using his own shampoo instead of what he had
brought from home, and the idea of smelling so like his Dom was a pleasing one.
When Derek stopped shampooing his hair and rinsed his hands off, Stiles ducked
under water to rinse the suds from his hair. When he broke the surface of the
water again, Derek was ready for him, this time with body wash. Instead of
using a washcloth or loofah, his Dom had poured the soap into his hands and was
again rubbing them together in order to cover both hands with it. Stiles felt
Derek nudge with one elbow, urging him to lean forward, and when he obeyed,
Derek started rubbing his hands slowly over the warm, wet skin. A whimper
nearly escaped from Stiles' parted lips when Derek began massaging his
shoulders, working out any remaining tension there before moving lower, rubbing
over his spine before dipping below the surface of the water to tease at the
crack of his ass before moving back up again. The bubbling jets continued to
pulsate against his skin as his Dom caressed him all over, the mix of
sensations tantalizing to his senses.
When Derek's hand slipped down to grasp his now hard cock, Stiles couldn't stop
the moan that tumbled from his lips. His Dom teased him for the very briefest
of moments before moving away to continue his ministrations elsewhere, and
Stiles made a low noise of frustration. He reached down to stroke himself and
jerked in surprise when a firm hand stopped him.
"No, Stiles," Derek said firmly. "I'm taking care of you. That can wait." His
voice dropped to a silky whisper. "Remember, all your orgasms are going to
belong to me. You won't touch yourself unless I allow it, and I'll know if you
disobey me."
Stiles shivered as Derek's warm breath tickled the outer shell of his ear, and
he could have sworn he felt the warm tickle of tongue teasing the delicate
skin. He laid his head back again and relaxed against the slope of the tub,
feeling pleasantly boneless. There was a soft sound of rustling, and Stiles
cracked his eyes open a sliver to see Derek removing his clothes and dropping
them to the floor to stand there in his boxer briefs.
"Okay," said Derek as he turned off the water jets. "Let's get you dried off
and we'll go lay down for a while." Stiles watched quietly as Derek unstopped
the tub to allow the water to run out. When his Dom offered him a hand to help
him up, Stiles took it and carefully stood up. A large, soft towel dried his
hair before wrapping around him, and strong arms held him close for a moment
before guiding him back into the bedroom.
Stiles stood by the edge of the bed while Derek carefully dried him off with
the towel. He felt loose and pliant, even though he was still half hard. When
Derek nipped at his neck before nuzzling his favorite spot, Stiles hummed
happily.
"Better," Derek said approvingly. "I don't smell anyone else on you now. You
smell more like me."
"I like it," Stiles admitted with a soft smile. "I don't smell things the same
way you do, but I do like the smell of your soap and shampoo." He tilted his
head back to expose his neck and the marks he knew were there. A low rumble
came from his Dom, and strong arms wrapped around him from behind as Derek
began rubbing his face against his neck, his stubble scraping against the
sensitive skin. Stiles relaxed back against him, content to let Derek hold him
up while scenting him thoroughly. He could feel Derek's hard cock pressed
against him, trapped in its confines, and it made him feel felt warm, safe and
desired.
When Stiles felt Derek moving him to the edge of the bed, he complied with the
unspoken order and climbed onto the bed. He lay on his side, propped up on one
elbow and watched with interest as Derek moved to the foot of the bed and
opened the trunk there. He appeared to be looking for something in particular
as he rummaged around, finally making a grunt of satisfaction when he found
what he was seeking. When he closed the trunk, Stiles saw he was holding a
black satin blindfold.
"So that's where you keep the fun things!" Stiles said with a grin. "I thought
maybe you kept everything in a toy room or something."
Derek raised an eyebrow at him. "You didn't think I had my own personal
collection? The toy room is fine if we want to use it, but there are certain
things I like having within close reach."
"So there is a toy room? Holy shit, that's so cool! What else do you have in
the trunk though?" Stiles asked.
Derek smirked at him. "That's for me to know and for you to find out as I see
fit." He sat on the edge of the bed and ran one hand lightly down Stiles' side
and over his hip. He then held up the blindfold in his other hand. "Do you
trust me?"
Stiles nodded. He felt his submission tugging at him from deep within his core
and knew without any doubt that Derek was going to take care of him. He closed
his eyes and sighed softly when he felt the cool satin against his skin. The
blindfold was tied snugly but not to the point of being uncomfortable. He felt
Derek's hands arranging him on the pillows and wrapping him up in a soft
blanket so that his arms were close against his chest. Within just a short
moment the bed sunk behind him as Derek climbed on the bed and a muscular arm
wrapped around him to pull him back against an equally muscular chest. The
touch of his Dom was reassuring and made him feel secure even as he floated in
a pleasantly warm and lazy haze.
"Sleep is what you need right now," Derek's words were spoken directly into his
ear, his voice low and comforting. "I'm right here and I'll be here when you
wake up. I promise."
===============================================================================
***** Chapter 6 *****
Chapter Notes
     Wow, okay. So it has been embarrassingly long since I updated, and I
     am so sorry. I know it seems I am always apologizing, aren't I?
     However, I recently completed another WIP, and that was pretty much
     where my limited writing time went. To say that real life has been
     chaotic would actually be an understatement; if I had time where I
     could try to write, I was often too exhausted to really be able to
     give it my best. This chapter is a bit of a monster, and I really
     hope it was worth the wait... *crosses fingers*
      
      
     Fun fact: the prank Derek tells Stiles about with the Ronald McDonald
     statue is what my friends and I did our senior year. I still can't
     believe we did that.
      
     All my love to Shelley for the read-through and suggestions that I
     think helped me improve parts of this, and my thanks to Sies for her
     mad beta skillz, even though she has been RL crazy as well. Kisses to
     Sam for being my cheerleader and keeping me from losing my mind over
     this update.
      
     Beth made me this beautiful graphic, and I am just a little in love
     with it. Thank you so much, my darling! u3u
     =====================================================================

          [http://media.tumblr.com/17c30e9fb786cc86aef95644e7f45089/
                      tumblr_muu4huhu1S1rnqi7ro1_400.jpg]
===============================================================================
Derek lay quietly next to Stiles, watching as his submissive slept. The
blindfold hid those magnificent eyes from his view, but Stiles' heartbeat was
the slow, steady rhythm of slumber and his body was relaxed. Derek
absentmindedly rubbed his boy's back while his mind raced in a whirlwind of
thoughts. Guilt and confusion warred with each other as he tried to figure out
why Stiles had been hit so hard and so quickly with sub sickness. He had been
trying very hard to act within the accepted parameters of an intended (but not
yet claimed) couple. It was polite tradition to wait until a claim was legal
and cuffs in place before dominating a submissive, and Derek fully intended to
do this the right way, even though his wolf had been howling for him to put his
boy on his knees from the moment he'd first laid eyes on him. All he had wanted
was to be the best first Dom for Stiles that he could be, and in typical
fashion had managed to mess it up spectacularly instead.
It still didn't make sense to him for Stiles to get sub sickness already. They
had only spent one night together, and while it had been pleasurable and hot,
it hadn't involved any sort of power exchange. Their bodies couldn't possibly
be in any sort of touch with each other yet; they'd had no time to discuss
their contract and what it would entail, so there were no expectations or
responsibilities in place. Even more confusing, Stiles wasn't adjusting to a
change from one Dom to another. He had never been instructed in a claim, so
that need shouldn't even have manifested yet. How had a simple kiss goodbye
have triggered such a severe case?
Stiles whimpered softly in his sleep, his face scrunching up slightly. Derek
made a low shushing noise while moving his hand to soothingly stroke his
submissive's neck until he quieted again. The pale skin there was soft and
warm, and the dark marks he had made the previous night stood out in stark
contrast, making his wolf rumble complacently. Derek draped his body along
Stiles' back, letting his weight press against his submissive in a way commonly
known to provide comfort. Without thinking, he leaned forward to bury his nose
in the tender curve of neck and shoulder before rubbing his cheek along the
column of his boy's throat. The need to scent his submissive was a strong one
and he saw no problem in indulging himself. Stiles smelled like Derek's soap
and shampoo, but his own scent of fresh rain was still underlying and
recognizable, and just as intoxicating, especially where his pulse beat
steadily just under the surface of his skin.
Derek wasn't used to this strange feeling of almost contentment with his life.
While a part of him still wanted to resent Peter for making him take on a
submissive, he couldn't deny that he was looking forward to claiming Stiles
fully. He had never thought he would find himself in his bed with a submissive
of his own, wrapped snugly and sleeping placidly by his side as a result of his
care. Doms were trained to care for a submissive in all aspects, it was an
instinct they worked to develop fully in order to provide properly for their
chosen sub. Since Derek had always used sub clubs, he hadn't been required to
provide more than the very basics of aftercare for the subs he played with.
They had a staff of dominants who did nothing but tend to the subs that worked
there, including taking care of them after a scene. But he had never had any
kind of emotional attachment before. If just the act of bathing Stiles had
given him this much satisfaction, Derek decided that taking care of him after
they played would be nothing short of amazing. This boy with his incredible
eyes and sinful mouth was already getting under his skin, and he had yet to
explore his submissiveness fully. Once he was wearing Derek's cuff, Stiles
would be even more irresistible to him.
It occurred to Derek as he dozed off that there was a very distinct possibility
he might just be in a lot of trouble.
===============================================================================
Wakefulness crept up on Stiles slowly. He was aware of the sensation of warmth
and safety cocooning him, much like the blanket he was wrapped in. There was a
pleasantly comforting weight pressed along his back and he could feel hard arms
holding him while stubble lightly scraped the tender flesh under his ear. The
presence of his Dom was a welcome one, and Stiles smiled as he slowly
stretched, eyes fluttering open under the satiny blindfold he still wore. He
felt pliant and relaxed, none the worse for wear after his harrowing morning.
"Feeling better?" Derek murmured in his ear.
"Yes, Sir," Stiles answered readily. He shifted back a bit to cuddle against
his Dom and tilted his head back to rest it against Derek's shoulder. The
movement exposed his throat and he felt a low rumble from Derek's chest, then a
light nip of teeth that made him gasp softly. A warm tongue swiped over the
small mark before stubble rasped against him again.
It seemed Derek was partial to Stiles baring his neck to him. He would have to
keep that in mind.
"How long did I sleep?" he asked, content to lie still in Derek's arms.
"Just a couple of hours," Derek replied. "It's a little after one right now. Do
you feel up to eating something?"
Stiles' stomach answered for him, growling loudly at the mention of food. He
laughed self-consciously and said, "That counts as a yes, right?"
"I think so," Derek chuckled. "Well, I don't want it said that I starve my
submissive. We'll have lunch and then we can go look for cuffs. You feel well
enough to go out, right?"
"Oh, yeah," Stiles nodded. He felt great; rested, warm, and safe, with the
weight of his Dom draped reassuringly over him. He was comfortable enough that
he could normally be tempted to stay right where he was, but the promise of
food and the excitement of getting his cuff was enough to easily overcome that.
"Good," Derek said, leaning back and huffing with amusement when Stiles
protested the loss of contact. "If you think you're ready then I'll go ahead
and remove the blindfold now."
"Yeah, I think I'm good," Stiles replied. He felt the ties loosening at the
back of his head and blinked as the dark satin fell away. The sudden brightness
of the room was disorienting and it took a moment for him to adjust. He felt
Derek's soothing hand on his neck and leaned into it. When he felt he could see
normally again, Stiles sat up and let the blankets fall into his lap. He rubbed
his arms and smiled brightly at his Dom. "So, when do we eat?"
===============================================================================
Derek had forgotten just how much food a teenage boy could put away. His own
mother used to tease him fondly for the amount of food she had to keep in the
house just to feed him and his friends. Now he watched in fascination as Stiles
happily accepted a third sandwich from Libby, the motherly house submissive who
served as their cook and already looked to have a soft spot for him, while he
was only part way through his own. There was nothing wrong with it; the bread
was freshly baked and piled high with slices of ham and turkey, lettuce,
tomato, and the perfect amounts of mayonnaise and mustard—yellow, of course,
because Derek disliked brown mustard. It was to his exact specifications, but
he kept getting distracted by his submissive.
It was almost disconcerting for Derek just how easily it was to lose himself in
Stiles already. He couldn't deny he was looking forward to this weekend with a
huge sense of anticipation. Stiles laughed at something the beaming house sub
said and tossed his head back, once again exposing the glorious stretch of skin
along his neck and causing Derek to swallow hard against the sudden dryness of
his mouth. Two days suddenly seemed woefully inadequate and Derek started
wondering if it might not be a good idea to call Laura and have her get Stiles'
school assignments for the next week (or two) and just keep his boy home and to
himself. Education was important, but he found himself feeling resentful of
anything that took his submissive from him, even for just a few hours.
Something about Stiles inspired a new sort of hunger in Derek that he hadn't
ever known before, and it was more than a little unnerving.
Even now, Derek could feel his wolf urging him to put off shopping to drag
Stiles back upstairs. Here he was, a Dom with years of experience, ready to
drag this boy into the pantry and rut against him until he came in his pants
like a newly tattooed dominant that was still wet behind the ears. It probably
should have been more embarrassing, but as Derek watched while Stiles pulled
his sandwich apart with long, elegant fingers to add a layer of chips to it, he
found he couldn't be bothered by it. He suppressed a shudder when Stiles licked
mustard off one finger and decided that shopping was an excellent idea after
all. He needed the distraction if he was going to be able resist dominating
Stiles before he claimed him properly.
When Stiles wrapped his perfect lips around the straw he was drinking from and
hollowed his cheeks as he sucked soda up, Derek concluded then and there that
the universe hated him. He put his half eaten sandwich down on his plate and
pushed it away, shifting in his seat and trying to will his very interested
cock back into submission. Dominance was coursing through his veins like a
sultrily wicked song, and the hunger he felt right now wasn't going to be
satisfied with food. If he was going to survive to make it to and through the
claiming ceremony, he needed to distract himself quickly.
"Are you alright, Mister Derek? Is your sandwich not to your liking today?"
Libby asked him in concern, eyes cast down respectfully.
Derek felt a little bad. Libby had worked for his family for years, even before
the fire. She had known Derek since he was a prepubescent boy having to learn
how to control his wolf during the full moon and he was actually quite fond of
her. He was grateful that she was a human and couldn't smell the barely
contained lust he knew had to be coming off him in waves, although he was sure
she sensed his tension. She worried over him like a mother, even now that he
was fully grown, and he didn't want her worrying now.
"Everything's fine, Lib," Derek said as he rubbed her shoulder reassuringly.
"We just have to get going soon. We want to have time to find suitable cuffs
and be sure we get to the magistrate on time. If you'll wrap it up and put it
in the fridge I'll eat it later."
Stiles sat up straighter in his chair and grinned at Libby before stuffing the
last bite of sandwich in his mouth. "Yeah, yeah! Cuff shopping! I'm finally
gonna be cuffed!" he said excitedly while still chewing, waving his left arm
around and indicating towards his currently bare wrist with the other hand.
"Don't talk with your mouth full, Stiles," Derek chided absentmindedly, finding
himself focused once again on his submissive's lips as he grinned and
apologized. "We need to get going."
Derek steeled himself as they walked out to the garage to get in his car. It
was going to be a slow and maddening form of torture to be in a small, enclosed
space with Stiles again, being surrounded by that scent that was so very
tempting. Fortunately for him, traffic was light and the mall wasn't that far.
Before long they were in the premiere boutique Laura had recommended he try
first, standing in front of a large cuff display.
In truth, Derek hated the mall. It was always too noisy, filled with people
chatting loudly with either a companion or on their cell phones, screaming
children, and multiple types of music pouring from different stores. The smells
were even worse; the mix of different foods coming from the food court, the
dyes of the materials on the racks, the sweaty undertones of humanity, and
Derek was positive there was a child in the vicinity that was in desperate need
of a diaper change. None of that mattered to him at that moment, though,
because Stiles was standing next to him with wide eyes that glowed amber in
their excitement.
"They're all so nice. I don't even know where to start," Stiles breathed
reverently.
Derek decided that he could deal with the mall for a bit if it made his boy
smile like that. "Do you see anything you like? We can always go somewhere else
if you don't see one that interests you."
As if on cue, a sales associate appeared across the counter from them. Her name
tag denoted her as a manager and her red tattoo indicated her dominant status.
"Hello, Sir," she greeted Derek with a pleasant smile. "What can I do for you
today?"
Derek returned her direct gaze. "I am looking to buy cuffs for my submissive
and myself, Ma'am."
She nodded and smiled even wider. "A new claim! How exciting for you. We have a
wide variety of cuffs to choose from, as you can see. Wide leather, thin bands,
even metal if you prefer. If you wanted a custom cuff, say a different color or
special engraving, we offer that as well. Did you or your submissive want to
try anything on? I'll be happy to take anything out of the case for you to look
at more closely."
While Derek was talking with the sales manager, he had seen Stiles looking
closely at several cuffs. He turned to him and asked, "Did you want her to show
you any of these?"
Stiles nodded, eyes shining with an eagerness that made Derek want to suck
another dark mark on his neck. "I see a few I wouldn't mind looking at on that
second shelf," he answered, indicating a black velvet lined tray with several
cuffs displayed on it and nearly vibrating in his enthusiasm.
She unlocked the case and pulled the tray out to place it on top of the glass
counter. She smiled at Derek one more time and then nodded once before stepping
over to assist another customer.
"This one is kind of cool! Dig that spiral!" Stiles said enthusiastically,
picking up a cuff made of thin strips of leather joined by a silver medallion.
Derek recognized the design immediately. He had a larger version of it on his
back that Stiles hadn't even seen yet. Strange how Stiles would pick that up
first. "It's called a triskelion," he said quietly. "Is that the one you like?"
Stiles looked at it ponderingly for a moment, then shook his head. "I don't
think so. I really like the triskelion, but I'm not sure about the actual cuff
itself." He replaced the cuff on the tray and picked up another one made of
brown leather to examine it.
Derek felt a fleeting sense of disappointment. The idea of Stiles wearing a
cuff with his tattoo rather appealing, but he wanted his boy to have something
he liked. He quietly examined some cuffs for himself while keeping an eye on
Stiles, who picked up several cuffs and looked them over closely before shaking
his head and putting them back. When he had looked at them all, the sales
manager returned the shelf to the display case and pulled out another one.
Derek found a cuff for himself that he liked, a smooth and supple black leather
that fit well but had some give to it to move with his wolf shifts. It was
plain with a silver buckle and appealed to him. When Stiles looked up from his
third tray of cuffs he was looking over, Derek held the cuff out to him.
"I like this one for myself. What do you think?" Derek asked. He held it out to
Stiles, who took it and looked it over carefully. He ran his fingers over the
soft leather and nodded in satisfaction.
"Yeah, I think that actually suits you pretty well. A bit understated but
inherently sexy. Very classy. I approve," Stiles said with an almost shy smile.
Derek felt his cheeks heating up as Stiles' words sunk in. His submissive had
just called him sexy and only the fact that Stiles hadn't chosen a cuff for
himself yet kept Derek from dragging him back out to his car and speeding home
to the privacy of his bedroom. He shifted on his feet and tried not to feel
impatient as Stiles had the sales associate pull out yet another tray for him
to look through. He was just about to repeat his offer to go elsewhere to look
for a cuff when he heard Stiles' heartbeat pick up and his breath hitch.
"Look at this," Stiles said in an almost whisper as he picked up the cuff that
had caught his attention and handed it to Derek.
Derek took it and looked it over. It was made of a similar leather to his own
but was not quite as wide. Instead of buckles, it had a clasp that fastened it
around the wrist. The clasp was a silver circle that was engraved with an image
of a full moon. Under the moon was a wolf seated on its haunches and its head
lifted in a howl. He quirked a brow at Stiles and asked, "Really? This is the
one you like?"
Stiles ducked his head and blushed. The faintly bitter scent of embarrassment
and uncertainty wafted off of him, making Derek wish he hadn't said anything,
especially when Stiles set the cuff down and muttered, "Never mind, I'm just
being...I'll keep looking."
Derek inwardly castigated himself as he put a hand on Stiles' shoulder. "Hey,"
he said quietly. When Stiles didn't say anything, he placed a finger under his
chin and gently urged him to tilt his head up. "Stiles, no. Look at me,
please." When Stiles finally raised his eyes to meet Derek's, he smiled at him.
"There, that's better. Now, I want you to get what you want, okay? If you want
that cuff, it's yours. I guess I just didn't expect you to go with something
depicting a wolf."
"Too cliché?" Stiles joked feebly.
"No," Derek said firmly. "Anyone who thinks it is can say it to my face."
Stiles cast his eyes downward again. "I like it," he said softly. "You're my
Dom, and you're also a werewolf. That's like, a huge part of you and that's
important to me. I'm proud to be your submissive, you know?"
Derek stared at Stiles, surprise rendering him speechless. His wolf had been
the thing about him that Kate had hated the most, had been the reason she
deceived and tricked him and ultimately took nearly everything from him. In New
York there had been a Sub Club that catered exclusively to werewolves, and the
submissives who worked there were known as lobo locos, subs who specifically
wanted to be dommed by wolves. He had gone there a couple of times before the
novelty wore off. Derek was used to being desired for his body or for being a
wolf, but he was unprepared for the clear honesty he saw in Stiles' eyes. His
heartbeat never wavered and Derek knew he was being truthful.
Derek was so screwed.
Picking up both the wolf cuff and the one he had chosen for himself, he caught
the sales manager's eye and walked to the register.
"Very nice selections," she remarked as gave Derek the total, hiding her smile
as Stiles' eyes widened at the amount she said. Derek handed her his credit
card without even batting an eyelash, and declined her offer to gift wrap the
cuffs for them.
"No thanks, if you can just bag them for us we can be on our way," Derek said.
They would be exchanging the cuffs soon enough and he didn't want the hassle of
unwrapping them during the ceremony. He was ready to leave the chaotic hustle
and bustle of the mall behind, with all its warring sounds and smells. He
signed the credit slip and waited impatiently as she wrapped each cuff in
protective paper before slipping them into a bag embossed in silver with the
store name. Stiles stood quietly next to him and Derek found himself wanting to
touch his submissive. Giving into his urge, Derek put a hand on Stiles' neck
and rubbed his thumb lightly over the dark mark he'd left below his ear
earlier. The touch grounded him somehow and made him feel less agitated, and
his wolf felt appeased some when Stiles closed his eyes, lashes fluttering in
obvious enjoyment. When the manager handed Derek the bag, her eyes flickered
over the dark marks on Stiles' neck and she smiled knowingly. She thanked Derek
for his business, then gave him a sly wink and mouthed, "he's adorable" as she
handed him the bag.
Derek acknowledged her comment with a nod. He took Stiles by the hand and led
him out to the car. It was still a bit early yet for their appointment with the
magistrate, but Derek decided he might as well drive them there. It was better
to be early than late. The last thing he needed was to lose their spot and end
up having to reschedule their claiming for next week. There was no way he would
make it through the weekend; his wolf was on edge as it was with the need to
claim his submissive.
A sideways glance showed Stiles fidgeting with the handles of the boutique bag
that held the cuffs. His knee jiggled with nerves. Needing to break the heavy
silence that permeated the air inside the car, Derek asked, "So have you
considered what terms you want for our contact?"
Stiles huffed out a soft laugh. "I've been thinking of what I wanted for my
first claim since my tattooing. I guess that seems kind of silly, huh?"
"I don't think so," stated Derek firmly. "I think it's smart for you to have
been thinking about it. I also want you to know that if you ever want to change
terms during our claim, I'm open to negotiating. I want you to always feel
comfortable, and I understand that people can change. So while our contract is
binding it's not written in stone, okay?"
Stiles blinked at him in surprise, then nodded. "Okay. Thank you for that.
Hopefully we won't need to do anything like that, but it's good to know we have
that option on the table." His knee continued to bounce up and down, and Derek
finally put his hand on it to still the movements.
"Are you nervous?" Derek asked. He already knew the answer; he could smell the
anxiety pouring off of Stiles in sharp waves and could hear his heart pounding.
He was so bad at this. He wanted to put Stiles at ease but he found he had no
idea what to do.
"Yeah, I am," confessed Stiles. "Like, on one hand I'm really excited and
happy, but on the other I feel kind of like I'm going to pass out. I feel like
my heart's gonna beat out of my chest. I'm going to be fine, though." He gave
Derek a mischievous grin. "My dad says before his first claim he was so nervous
he actually threw up. I don't think I'm that bad."
Derek squeezed his knee reassuringly. "Good to know my interior is safe," he
said casually, hiding a grin.
Stiles stared at him in surprise, then laughed. "Did you just...you totally
just made a joke, didn't you?"
There was something about Stiles' laughter that caused a pleasant flutter low
in Derek's belly. He decided he rather enjoyed the sound. There was something
open and genuine about it, and he hoped he heard more of it during the course
of their claim.
They made small talk as they drove. Derek discovered Stiles had a fondness for
curly fries. Stiles learned that Derek had been the star center of the
dominants basketball team when he'd been in school. Derek chuckled when he
found out Stiles had let Dom Finstock call him Bilinski for two weeks running
because it meant he got playing time on the lacrosse field. Stiles laughed so
hard he had to wipe away tears when Derek told him the tale of how he and his
buddies stole a statue of Ronald McDonald from a local McDonalds and put it in
the football stadium for their senior year prank. Conversation flowed easily
between them and before Derek knew it, he was parking the car in front of the
magistracy.
As he linked his fingers with Stiles' to walk into the office, Derek could
hardly believe his luck. He wasn't much of a talker normally, and he usually
found it difficult to listen to anyone for very long without feeling bored or
even annoyed. When he scened with submissives in the past, he kept it to
necessary conversation only. Yet he had the feeling that he could happily
listen to Stiles chat about just about anything and participate in the
conversation without feeling put upon. He found himself wondering if Stiles was
going to be a talker in the bedroom as well. Would he be able to make him
babble incoherently or maybe silence him instead? Derek decided he preferred
the former. He couldn't wait to hear what Stiles had to say when he was being
pushed to his limits or begging for release. A gag might be fun, but somehow
Derek got the idea that listening to each whimper or plea from Stiles' perfect
mouth would be even better.
When they walked into the main lobby there was a woman seated at a desk behind
a sliding glass window. When they approached her, she slid the window open.
"May I help you?" she asked.
"We have an appointment for Hale and Stilinski at 5:30," answered Derek.
The woman pulled up a schedule on her computer screen and peered closely at it.
"Ah, yes, here we are. Let me get you to step over to the kiosk there and sign
in, Dom Hale. We will be with you shortly." She slid the window closed and
began typing on her computer.
Derek stepped over to the indicated kiosk and tapped the screen to start. It
was a relief not to have to fill out paperwork for this part. Completing the
information was quick and once the machine had scanned their IDs, they sat down
in the waiting room. The chairs didn't look particularly comfortable, but there
were vending machines in one corner and a big screen television was playing yet
another paternity test results episode on Maury Povich. Derek bought them both
a soda and got Stiles a bag of chips before sitting down next to him
"I never know if I should be amused or appalled by these shows," said Stiles,
crunching on the chips as he watched a weeping submissive talk about her former
Dom denying her child. "Like, get this dude! Saying he isn't the dad because
they only slept together unprotected once! How does he think this works,
anyway? He's got three other kids already, you'd think he'd have figured this
out by now." He cackled as the potential baby daddy walked out on the stage to
massive boos from the audience. "You don't know me! You don't know nothin'
about me!" he mocked along with the television. When Maury pulled out the
results envelope, Stiles leaned further on the edge of his chair in
anticipation. "You ARE the father! Booyah!"
"I think we need to put a limit on how much trash TV you watch," observed Derek
dryly.
"Whatever," snorted Stiles. "I'm sure you have some guilty pleasure show you
watch. What is it? Real Housewives? Jersey Shore? RuPaul's Drag Race? You don't
seem like the X-Factor type."
"I think Derek is rather partial to Hell's Kitchen," said Peter as he walked
over to them. "Something about Gordon Ramsay's expletive laced tirades is
fascinatingly entertaining."
"More like trying to figure out just how some of those people even made it
through the tryout process. There is some seriously scary stuff happening in
those kitchens," grinned Stiles.
Derek had stood up when Peter joined them. "They should be calling us back
soon, Uncle," he said. He hoped he sounded calm and nonchalant, but the knowing
smirk Peter gave him said otherwise. The reality of the situation was starting
to sink in and Derek found himself actually feeling nervous. There was still a
scent of anxiety coming from Stiles, but at least he no longer seemed quite as
jittery.
"Good, good," said Peter agreeably. "Unfortunately, duty called and Maks has
been unavoidably detained, but he will join us as soon as he can. He may not be
here for the drawing of the contract, but he will definitely be here in time
for the ceremony itself."
Derek nodded. In claims where one or both parties were under 18, a parent or
guardian had to be present for that person. Maks had already given his verbal
consent to the Alpha, so technically Peter could stand in as Stiles' guardian.
It would be better, though, if Maks were there, since it would put Stiles at
ease and because Peter was actually there in his capacity as Alpha and not as
Derek's uncle.
When a pair presented to the magistrate to enter a claim, be it provisional or
permanent, there was a certain protocol to be followed to insure everything was
in place for a successful joining, even for arranged claims such as theirs. If
it was a human pairing, the magistrate was mediator between them to insure
there was no coercion involved and that both parties were honest about their
needs. If it was a werewolf pairing, Peter took on the part of mediator
instead, since no wolf would dare cross him by lying. Pairings between
werewolves and humans were different, though. Both the Alpha and the magistrate
had to be present to make sure both the human and wolf interests were
represented and to attest that no one was being unduly influenced.
They would be drawing up their contract soon, a daunting task if Derek had ever
faced one. Sub clubs held the contracts for the submissives working there and
all he had ever had to do was fill out a questionnaire to be paired with a
compatible submissive and then sign the agreement to adhere to house policy.
Suddenly he felt the heavy weight of responsibility on his shoulders because
this was so much more than a one-time scene. There was more at stake here than
there had ever been before.
The door leading to the back of the office suddenly opened, shaking Derek from
his thoughts and making him jump. He shot Peter a dirty look when he heard him
laugh softly. The woman from the desk stood in the door and gestured to them.
"Come this way, please, gentlemen. I am going to show you to one of our work
rooms, and Magistrate Deaton will join you there shortly."
===============================================================================
Stiles quietly followed behind Derek and Peter. He wasn't afraid, but he was
sure both werewolves could hear his heart pounding and he probably reeked of
nervousness. As though sensing his need, Derek reached back and took his hand,
making Stiles instantly feel calmer.
It was nice that they seemed so well suited thus far. Stiles didn't usually
take to dominants very easily. He knew he was what some would refer to as
willful, but he preferred to think it was more that he knew himself and his
needs pretty well. It was true that he didn't exactly know Derek very well yet,
but they were definitely getting along. When they were talking on the way over,
Stiles was sure he had rambled a bit, as he was wont to do when he was nervous
or excited. Yet Derek hadn't made him feel dumb or as if he was bothering him.
He had actually seemed interested in what he was saying, and underneath his
quiet and broody exterior, it seemed Derek Hale was hiding a rather wicked
sense of humor. Stiles couldn't deny they seemed very compatible in the bedroom
as well. If last night was just a tantalizing peek of what their claim would be
like, then he could hardly wait to see what happened next. He suppressed a
shiver, then blushed hotly when Derek's hand tightened on his own and he heard
Peter give a low chuckle. Right. Werewolf senses. Probably best not to be
thinking about the sexytimes right now. He made himself think instead of
lacrosse practice earlier this week when Dom Finstock made everyone run laps
because Greenberg went the wrong way and scored on his own goalie.
They were led into a large room that was painted a calming pale color and was
light and airy. Late afternoon sunlight streamed in through the window, giving
it a pleasant glow. A large round table was to one side, surrounded by several
chairs, while to the other side there was a small couch with matching easy
chairs. Peter headed straight to the coffee maker set up in one corner and
began fixing himself a cup. "You two sit down at the table," he tossed over his
shoulder as he stirred. "Go ahead and get started outlining your contract. I'll
be just a minute here, and then I believe I'll take one of those comfy chairs
over this way and catch up on emails. You won't even know I'm here."
Stiles waited for Derek to sit, then settled in the chair next to him. At least
these chairs were a little more comfortable than the ones out in the reception
area. He twiddled his thumbs nervously as Derek took paper and a pen from the
neat stacks in the center of the table.
Derek opened his mouth to begin talking, then seemed to hesitate before taking
a deep breath and trying again. "Okay, so I'm going to be really open right now
because that's what we both need. I want us to be able to explore things
together, but I want it to be things we both want. I've never had a regular sub
before and you haven't had a Dom at all. I want us to get to know each other.
So let's start by establishing our safewords," Derek said. "I want you to
always be comfortable with me and what we're doing, but if there is ever a time
where you aren't comfortable or feel unsure, I want you to tell me immediately.
I will never punish you for using your safewords, okay? These are for your
protection and I don't want you to think there will be any negative
ramifications or retaliation of any sort. I know this requires a lot of trust."
He hesitated again. "Do you think you can trust me?"
Stiles nodded. "Yes, Sir," he said immediately, knowing Derek would be able to
hear that he was being truthful. He did trust Derek; he somehow knew that he
could. The importance of safewords had been stressed heavily in freshman sub
studies, and he was glad it was important enough to Derek that he brought that
up first.
"Good boy," praised Derek, taking a moment to lightly run his fingers through
Stiles' hair. "Thank you for trusting me."
Stiles happily leaned into his Dom's touch, pouting just a bit when Derek
removed his hand. "What should we use? Moon phases or something like that?" he
asked.
Derek tapped his pen on the table thoughtfully. "We don't want to get too
cutesy. I don't want there to be any chance of some sort of misunderstanding or
not recognizing your safeword. I think, at least to start, we should stick to
the color system. It's easy to remember and is pretty universally recognized.
You're familiar with it, right? Green means everything is alright, yellow means
you are close to your limits or need a break, and red means we stop everything
immediately. We don't have to be in a scene for you to use these, either. For
example, if we are out in public and something has you uncomfortable, you can
give me your color so I can do what it takes to make it better."
"Okay," agreed Stiles. "That seems to work pretty well, but what if I can't
talk?"
"Somehow I get the idea that talking comes pretty easily to you," Derek said,
delighting inwardly at the pretty flush that stained his submissive's cheeks
and ran down his neck.
Stiles laughed nervously. "No, I meant like, what if I'm gagged and I can't say
my colors?" He was staring at the tabletop and missed how Derek's pupils
dilated slightly.
"We'll discuss hard and soft limits soon," Derek said after clearing his
throat. He wrote Safewords down on the paper and recorded the color system as
their choice. "But since you brought this up, in any scene where you might be
gagged, you still have a way to communicate with me. A bell works well; you can
ring it if you need to stop and I'll be able to hear it. So I guess we can move
on now to things we do and don't want. I take it you would be okay with being
gagged, then?"
Stiles blushed harder, unaware just how tempting he was to Derek without even
trying. "I think so? I don't actually know, since I haven't actually done
anything before. I don't really know what I will like, I just have an idea of
things I think I want to try. Maybe it would be easier if I told you things I
know I don't want."
Derek nodded. "That makes sense. We can always go back as well and revise
things if we decide to change them down the line, so if anything were to come
up that you didn't like we can add that if need be." He wrote Hard Limits on
the paper next and looked seriously at Stiles. "Why don't you go ahead and tell
me what you have in mind."
Stiles sat quietly for a moment. "Okay. I don't want you to hurt me badly,
especially for punishment. Like, you're a werewolf, you've got claws, teeth and
crazy strength and healing abilities, while I'm 147 pounds of pale skin and
fragile bones. It's one thing if you nip me or scratch me a little while we're
playing, but if I need punishment I don't want you to use rahr claws on me to
make me bleed or break any bones or anything. No needles or knives or creepy
things like that."
Derek made record of it on his paper. "I appreciate you being honest with me. I
wouldn't want to hurt you like that anyway, but I'm glad we're putting it in
writing so there's no question. What else?"
Stiles thought for a moment. "I don't want any watersports or scat play or
anything like that."
"Agreed," said Derek, wrinkling his nose in distaste as he wrote it down. "I
was never into any of that."
"I don't want to be humiliated, either," said Stiles tentatively. "Especially
in public. I don't mind dirty talk, don't get me wrong. The idea of you telling
me in our room that I was born to suck your cock is one thing, that's actually
pretty hot, but I don't think I want to be called a cockslut or a dirty whore
or anything like that. I also don't want to have to kiss your shoes or anything
that would feel degrading to me."
"Okay," said Derek as he added humiliation to the hard limits list. "That won't
be a problem either. I don't intend to make you do something like crawl after
me, and remember, you always have the option of safewording, even if we aren't
scening. What else?"
"No breathplay," Stiles said after a moment's thought. "Not being able to
breathe freaks me out and I don't know if I could manage to think straight
enough to safeword out of that."
"Got it," said Derek, underlining it after he wrote it down. "Anything else?"
Stiles drummed his fingers on the tabletop while he tried to think if there was
any other limits he had. "Not that I can think of at the moment. I promise I'll
be sure to let you know immediately if that changes. But what about you, Sir?
Do you have any limits?"
Derek looked taken aback, as though he hadn't considered it or hadn't been
expecting Stiles to ask. He twirled the pen in his fingers while he thought and
finally said, "I agree with pretty much everything you've laid out so far. I
also don't want to share you with anyone. I know there are some Doms that share
their subs or have their subs play with and service others, but I don't want
that. Even the thought of you smelling like someone else because of that sets
me on edge."
Stiles felt his eyes widen. He hadn't even thought of that. "No, I agree 100%,
no sharing of the Stiles with other Doms or subs." He paused and then asked
tentatively, "Does that go both ways? Like I won't have to share you either?"
"You will have my full commitment while we're claimed," Derek promised. "That
means no Sub Clubs and no playing with other submissives. Now, have you thought
of any things you might want to try?"
"I liked the blindfold today and I think that would be fun to explore further,"
Stiles said thoughtfully. "I think I'd like to try some light bondage, too.
Maybe not hardcore, but we can talk about it when the times comes. Spanking has
potential, too, although I think a lot of couples use it for punishment, but
maybe we can try it for fun as well. I also really liked how you came on me
last night. That was way hotter than I thought it would be. So maybe we can do
that sometimes, too." He paused for a moment, positive he'd seen Derek's eyes
flash bright blue for a moment before returning to their normal green. "Maybe
we could experiment with temperature play one day. Ice cubes and hot wax."
"Hot wax? You mean like candles?" Derek asked, his voice coming out slightly
strained.
Stiles winced when he remembered that most of Derek's family had died in a
fire. "Okay, never mind on that one, you can put that under hard limits if you
want." He felt Derek's hand cover his thigh and squeeze reassuringly.
"I'm capable of being around controlled fire, Stiles. You haven't offended me.
It was more the mental image of your beautiful skin covered in all that
colorful wax that got to me," Derek whispered softly. He began rubbing his
thumb gently along the inseam of Stiles' jeans, which, along with his Dom's
words, was about to drive him crazy
Stiles wiggled in his chair as he tried to keep from popping a boner right
there, because seriously? In the magistrate's office with his Headmaster in the
same room? Derek leaned towards him and sniffed, his eyes flashing blue once
again, and Stiles swore he saw fangs, too. Submission flowed through him in a
warm wave and he wanted more than anything to just drop to his knees right
there and let his Dom do as he pleased.
"Now, now, boys, let's put it away. Do try to remember where we are and not
embarrass ourselves, shall we?" called Peter from across the room.
Derek leaned back and closed his eyes, appearing to be composing himself.
Stiles did the same, reminding himself that they just had to get through the
next hour or so and then they would be home and in their room, ready to begin
their claim in earnest.
Home. How strange to already think of somewhere other than his father's house
as home. Stiles wondered if all submissives adapted to their Doms this easily
or if he was just weird. Or lucky.
They continued talk about and agree upon their terms, Derek taking careful
notes of everything. The door opened and a dark skinned man placidly walked in
with a laptop tucked under one arm. He smiled benignly at them all. "Good
evening. I am Magistrate Deaton." He looked over to where Peter was sitting and
said, "It's a pleasure to see you, Alpha."
"Indeed," smirked Peter. "This is my nephew, Dom Derek Hale, and his chosen
submissive, Aurélien Stilinski, known as Stiles. They are here to enter into a
provisional claim, first time for both."
Stiles had to hand it to the magistrate; he was one cool customer. If Deaton
was surprised at this being Derek's first claim, he didn't show it. He nodded
once and walked to the table to sit down across from them, motioning for Peter
to join them as well. He set up his laptop and smiled tranquilly at Stiles and
Derek.
"I see you have already established some foundation for your contract," Deaton
said, sounding pleased as he glanced at the notes Derek had made. "That's very
good. Communication is one of the most basic and necessary elements of a
successful claim. Without it, things can go terribly wrong. People can get
hurt, whether it be physically or emotionally, and we don't want that. Honesty
is another important fundamental. You each must be honest with yourself first
and foremost so that you can in turn be honest with each other. Without both of
these, you cannot establish trust between you, and without trust a claim cannot
exist."
Stiles wasn't sure if he was supposed to speak yet or not. He saw that Derek
was nodding in agreement, so he did as well. Everything the magistrate was
saying made perfect sense to him.
"If I may?" Deaton asked, holding his hand out to Derek. In turn, Derek handed
him the notes he had made while they were discussing contract terms. Deaton
looked them over imperturbably and opened a document form on his laptop. They
sat quietly, the only noise being the rapid keystrokes as the magistrate wrote
up their contract. The soft sound of the door opening caught Stiles' attention,
and he smiled in relief as his dad slipped quietly into the room and joined
them at the table.
"I'm glad you made it, Sheriff," said Deaton as he continued typing. "Now,
before we begin the claiming ceremony, I need to be sure there is no coercion
of any kind. I understand this is an arranged claim; Stiles is entering in this
claim of his own free will and is not being induced into accepting this claim
against his better judgement, is that correct?"
Stiles watched as Maks nodded his head. "Yes, Magistrate. I let my son know of
the offer being made and assured him that he could refuse the claim with no
fear of retaliation by or on behalf of the Alpha and his family. He accepted
this claim on his own with no means of persuasion from me."
"That's good to know," replied Deaton, his voice level and calm. "Stiles,
before we proceed, I need to get a statement from you. If I could have you
follow me?"
Stiles glanced at Derek and then his father, feeling anxious and uncertain.
Derek leaned into him and pressed their foreheads together. "You're my good
boy," he said softly. "Go with the magistrate and do as he tells you." Stiles
nodded and stood to follow Deaton out of the room.
Deaton lead him to an office just a few doors down. He walked in and sat behind
the desk, gesturing for Stiles to sit in one of the chairs across from him.
"With your permission, this conversation will be recorded and will go on record
as part of your claim process," Deaton said as he set up a small recorder. When
Stiles nodded, he pressed the record button. "This is Magistrate Alan Deaton of
Beacon Hills precinct, Beacon Hills, California. I am with submissive elect
Aurélien Stilinski, henceforth to be addressed as Stiles, and have his
permission to record this conversation. Stiles presents with prospective
Dominant Derek Hale and is applying for a provisional claim. This claim will be
a first claim for them both. Do you feel nervous, Stiles? A first claim is a
serious deal," remarked Deaton, betraying no emotion as he focused on the young
submissive.
"I am, just a little," confessed Stiles. He knew this was part of the protocol
for a claim, but that didn't make it any less nerve wracking.
"First time jitters are normal and to be expected," Deaton replied sagely. "I
just need to verify that this is what you want. You aren't being pressured into
this claim by any member of the Hale family or your father?"
Stiles shook his head vehemently. "No! Not at all. I want this. I like Derek
and I think he'll be an awesome Dom. He's been really great so far and we seem
like we're going to be pretty compatible. I think we'll do great together."
Deaton smiled tranquilly. "I'm glad to know that. Let it be known this day that
Aurélien 'Stiles' Stilinski has verified that he is entering into this claim of
his own free will and has not been unduly pressured or influenced in any way.
This claim can now proceed." He clicked the record button and hooked the
recorder to a small cable that was connected to a desktop computer. "Thank you,
Stiles. I'll download that audible file and it will go on record as part of
your claim process today. We can return to the other room now."
When they returned, Derek had stood up and was leaning back with his arms
crossed so that he was nearly sitting on the table instead. He looked almost
apprehensive, as though he was expecting something to go wrong. Stiles quickly
crossed the room to return to his side, feeling the need to be close to his Dom
again. The feeling was apparently mutual as Derek immediately ran his hands
gently over Stiles' cheeks and neck, taking a moment to scent him before
returning them both to their chairs, keeping a hand on Stiles to calm them
both.
Deaton returned to his seat and checked something on his laptop before he
turned his even gaze to Peter. "Dom Peter Hale, as Alpha of this pack and on
behalf of your nephew, do you verify that he enters this claim under no duress
and of his own free will?"
Peter nodded solemnly. "My nephew enters into this claim willingly, Magistrate.
You have the word of the Alpha."
Stiles released a breath he hadn't known he'd been holding as Deaton continued
to type on his computer. Derek had a firm grip on his thigh still, which kept
him him from freaking out, and he suspicioned the same was true for Derek as
well. He hadn't missed earlier the tightening of his Dom's hand on his leg when
the magistrate had mentioned him possibly refusing the claim. He had placed his
own hand on Derek's and had been happy to feel him relax immediately. Deaton
began speaking, drawing his attention from his inner musings, and he paid close
attention to what was being said.
"I have everything ready, I believe, and am ready to begin the ceremony,"
Deaton said, looking at Stiles and Derek solemnly. "Understand that this is a
provisional claim, entered in as such until one or both parties decide to end
it. If both parties are not in agreement for its end, counseling can be
provided, but there is no obligation to accept it or to stay in the claim if it
is not desired. It is expected of both parties that this provisional contract
will be honored and adhered to. Failure on the part of either party to maintain
their part of the agreement is grounds for dissolution of the claim. If during
the course of this provisional claim there is an agreement to make it a
permanent claim, arrangements will be made for a collaring ceremony, which is
legal and binding. Do you understand this so far?"
"Yes," answered Derek, meeting Deaton's eyes while Stiles turned his gaze to
the table and said, "Yes Sir."
"Excellent," stated Deaton. "Do you have cuffs to exchange?" When Derek and
Stiles both nodded, he closed his laptop and stood up. "Then if you will follow
me this way we can get started."
Stiles looked questioningly at Derek, who looked just as confused as he felt.
Peter silently handed the bag to Derek and motioned them both forward to follow
Deaton. He stopped briefly at a printer in the hallway to gather a small stack
of papers and then continued on. They all followed him towards the back to a
small room that looked like some sort of courtroom. There was a podium at the
front, and Deaton stood behind it, shuffling the papers he held.
"Alpha Hale, Sheriff Stilinski, thank you for your assistance. The terms of
this claim and contract are confidential, so I am going to ask that you both
wait for us in the main lobby. We will join there when the ceremony is
complete. Will the Dominant and submissive elect come stand before me?" he
intoned quietly.
Stiles swallowed nervously, casting his dad one final panicked look. The
sheriff nodded and smiled encouragingly at him one final time as he and Peter
left them with Deaton. Stiles felt himself relax some when Derek took him by
the hand and led him to stand in front of the podium. He was grateful that his
Dom kept a calming hand on the small of his back while they listened to Deaton
recite the terms of the contract and ceremonial out loud.
"First, let it be known that both Dominant Derek Hale and submissive Aurélien
Stilinski, known and henceforth referred to as 'Stiles,' come into this claim
of their own free will and consent. This contract, set and agreed upon this
day, is amendable at any time with the mutual consent of both parties."
"Derek and Stiles have agreed on the following terms: this is a relationship
founded on mutual respect and trust. They each have the right to seek and
experience physical and emotional satisfaction from each other and within this
claim. Derek and Stiles have also agreed on a relationship sexual in nature.
This is defined as consent to engage in oral and anal sex, including fellatio
and anilingus; masturbation, be it mutual or for the pleasure of the partner;
prostate massage and anal play; and light bondage with straps, ties, handcuffs
or other restriction and also including gags and blindfolds. Stiles has
consented to relinquish ownership of his sexual pleasure to Derek and
understands that orgasm attainment is now at the discretion and behest of his
Dominant."
"As Dominant, Derek accepts the responsibility of Stiles' body and entirety, to
do with as he sees fit, under the provisions of this contract. He agrees to
care for Stiles, to arrange for his safety and well-being as long as he is
under the terms of this contract. He also accepts the commitment to treat the
Stiles properly, to train him, punish him, care for him, and use Stiles as he
sees fit."
"Derek has the right to ask any questions of Stiles regarding any concerns he
may have and has the right to expect Stiles to answer truthfully and
completely, to the best of his knowledge. If he suspects that Stiles is not
disclosing the truth, he may interrogate further to acquire the best answer
from Stiles within the limitations of this contract."
"As submissive, Stiles understands he will keep his body available to Derek at
all times within the parameters of this contract. Stiles also acknowledges that
Derek may use his body or mind in any manner he wishes within reasonable
parameters of safety and any limitations set forth in this contract. Stiles
will not touch or pleasure himself sexually unless given permission to do so by
Derek. The surrender as a submissive is done with the knowledge that nothing
asked of Stiles that will demean him as a person or cause harm to him as a
human joining in a claim with a werewolf."
"Stiles understands that Derek expects him to be forthcoming and honest in
regards to any of his needs, whether they be physical or emotional. Safewords
have been discussed and agreed upon, and it is understood that Stiles has the
right to utilize them at any time if he finds it necessary to his well being to
do so. He is able to do so knowing that Derek will respect his need and that
there is no fear of punishment or retaliation."
"Both parties understand and agree that any failure by Stiles to comply fully
with Derek's desires shall be regarded as sufficient cause for any punishment
deemed appropriate, within the limitations of this contract."
"Both parties must be aware of the rules and know that Derek has full
discretion to decide on the appropriate punishment for rule breaking on a case
by case basis. Derek will always provide reason for a punishment. Punishment
will be treated seriously. Derek will comfort Stiles after he has been
reprimanded. Punishments besides spankings are at the discretion of Derek and
always must be complied with. These include orders to stand or kneel in a
corner, lectures, or whatever else Derek determines as useful and necessary to
teach Stiles."
"It is assumed that submissives wish to be in service and wish to perform to
the best of their ability. Submission is not intended as a game wherein the
submissive intentionally makes errors to provoke their Dom. Therefore, if
Stiles fails at a task, it is initially assumed that the failure is due to a
lack of understanding or instruction, and Derek will instruct him again.
Punishments will not be designed to be confused with play; they will be
designed to be unpleasant. Punishment of Stiles is subject to certain rules
designed to protect him from intentional abuse or permanent bodily harm.
Punishment must not incur any form of abuse, including but not limited to:
death; injury designed to cause permanent bodily harm, broken bones, or loss of
mobility or function; loss of consciousness; body modification or mutilation;
and withholding any basic necessity, such as food, water, or personal hygiene
for extended periods of time."
"Hard limits are defined here as an act or issue that is strictly prohibited by
term of this contract. They are agreed upon as the following: no acts involving
needles, knives, cutting, piercing, or blood, no acts involving deliberate
humiliation, be it public or private, no acts involving urination or defecation
and the products thereof, and no acts involving breath control. There is also
to be no activity that involves the direct contact of electric current, whether
alternating or direct, fire, or flames to the body. Both parties have expressed
that they wish to be monogamous and do not wish for there to be any third party
involvement, including sharing with another dominant or bringing another
submissive into a scene. Failure to respect these limits will result in formal
investigation and punishment up to and including termination of the claim."
"Soft limits can be discussed, negotiated and agreed upon between both parties,
as long as Stiles and Derek both give their consent. This includes the
following: use of vibrators, butt plugs and other implements; heavier bondage
than that agreed to in terms, such as use of shibari technique or a spreader
implement; restraint including ankles and/or hands being bound, either in front
or back of the body, and binding to fixed items, such as a head board or wall
mount; and light painplay, including spanking, nipple clamps, and temperature
play, such as ice cubes or hot wax."
Deaton looked up from his papers and smiled at them. "Does this sound correct
so far?" When both Derek and Stiles gave their assent, he nodded. "That's fine,
then. Derek, I'm going to have you present Stiles with his cuff first. I
understand you have your own statement of commitment?"
Derek nodded and leaned down to get Stiles' cuff out of the bag. Stiles
immediately missed the warmth of his Dom's hand on his back when Derek turned
him so they stood facing each other. He let Derek take his left hand, shivering
as his Dom gently traced his thumb over the black bird tattoo before wrapping
the cuff around his wrist and fastening it into place.
"Stiles," Derek said, his tone serious and formal, "I promise I am going to do
all I can to be the best Dom for you. Your safety and well being are my top
priority. I promise to listen to you and to take any concerns you have
seriously. I promise to respect your limits and needs, and I am willing to
discuss anything with you, whether you want to try something new or have a new
limit you want addressed. I promise I will always take care of you, in and out
of play. I will be honest and communicative with you and I'll trust you to do
the same. This cuff signifies my commitment to you and my ownership of you so
long as we are in this claim."
Stiles swallowed heavily and took the other cuff out of the bag. He raised
Derek's hand to buckle the cuff in place and took a deep breath. "Sir. Derek. I
promise to try to be the best submissive you've ever had. I trust you to honor
my requests and that you will take control when I need you to. I will be honest
with you and trust that you will be honest with me. If I do anything wrong, I
trust that you will tell me and correct me as merited. I trust you to take care
of me, before, during, and after any scene, as well as in our day-to-day
routines. I accept your cuff and present you with my own to show that while you
own me, I own you as well, so long as we are in this claim." He brushed his
lips lightly over the red phoenix tattoo. "I promise to be your good boy," he
whispered softly, not missing Derek's swift intake of breath or the quick
tightening of his fingers around Stiles' own. His eyes changed from pale green
to electric blue, and instead of a quick flash, this time they stayed that way.
"I think everything is in place to make this a legal claim," said Deaton in
satisfaction. "All I need are your signatures on the designated lines. We will
notarize it, and you boys will be good to go." He stepped from behind the
podium and walked towards a small desk. Stiles and Derek were too caught up in
each other to pay him any mind, and he cleared his throat gently to get their
attention.
Stiles let Derek lead him to the desk, thrilled that his Dom didn't seem to
want to let go of him even for a moment. They signed their names on the
documents and waited impatiently for the notary stamp to be applied. When the
papers were dry and neatly folded into an envelope, Derek tucked their copies
on his pocket and thanked Deaton with a quickness that bordered on being
uncivil before turning and swiftly heading for the exit. Stiles nearly had to
run to keep up with his long legged stride.
When they got to the lobby, Peter and Maks were waiting for them. Peter
chuckled and gave Derek a wickedly amused smirk while Stiles rushed to give his
father a quick hug before they left, deeply aware that his Dom was teetering on
the edge of control and needed them to get home quickly.
"Congratulations, son. I hope you will be happy. You know where I am if you
need me," said Maks softly and directly in Stiles' ear. "I also promise not to
shoot your Dom for all those hickeys on your neck," he teased.
"Okay, Dad, I thought polite society dictated that it's rude to point out
things like that," joked Stiles in return as he took Derek's hand again. "I'll
call you sometime soon, okay?"
He didn't hear his father's answer as his Dom nearly dragged him out to his
car. When they got to the Camaro Derek didn't even bother unlocking it before
he had Stiles pressed up against it, kissing him hungrily and licking into his
mouth, running his hands everywhere he could reach. He could feel Derek hard
against him, and he didn't have to possess werewolf senses to know arousal was
pouring off of Derek in waves.
Stiles felt his knees nearly buckle when Derek licked his favorite sensitive
spot just under Stiles' ear and began sucking another bruise onto the skin
there. As much dominance was surging through Derek, it had its submission equal
coursing just as hotly through Stiles.
"You make me wild," Derek admitted, his voice harsh with the obvious effort to
control himself. "I want you to sit in the back seat on the way home. If you
are where I can easily reach you, we won't make it to the house. I don't want
our first scene to be on the side of the road after I've crashed the car."
Stiles hastened to obey, climbing in the back seat as soon as the doors were
unlocked and squeaking in surprise when he felt a firm smack to his ass. He
buckled his seatbelt and tried to look demure as Derek climbed into the front
seat.
"God, look at you," groaned Derek from the front seat as he cranked the car and
threw it into reverse. "You're going to kill me."
They didn't say anything else to each other as Derek concentrated on getting
them home in one piece. He drove far faster than was allowed by the law, and
Stiles felt sure that if an officer had pulled them over, Derek would have
fully shifted into his beta form. Luckily they made it home without incident,
and Stiles couldn't help but laugh when Derek nearly forgot to put the car in
park. He wasn't laughing, though, when Derek threw his keys at the house sub
waiting to park the car for him and all but carried Stiles into the house.
They ran hand in hand up the stairs, taking them two at a time and not caring a
bit that everyone in the house was aware of what they were doing. When they
reached Derek's room, Stiles gasped as he was shoved against the closed door
and his Dom immediately pressed into his personal space. Derek's eyes were
still bright blue and he was broadcasting dominance that Stiles was willing to
bet even the house submissives could feel. He was in the throes of his own
submission, and even the sensation of clothing against his skin was quickly
becoming annoying.
"I'm going to go downstairs and get a glass of ice water to get myself under
control," whispered Derek, words coming out thickly through his elongated fangs
and sending a frisson of excitement and fear down Stiles' spine. "When I get
back, I expect you to be kneeling in the middle of the bed, naked except for my
cuff on your wrist. Clothes in the hamper and not thrown on the floor. Do you
understand, pretty boy?"
Stiles shivered in anticipation as another hot wave of submission coursed
through his blood. "Yes Sir," he whispered.
***** Chapter 7 *****
Chapter Notes
     *tap, tap*
      
      Is this thing on?
      So, hi. This is where I once again apologize for the length of time
     between updates. This chapter was especially tough, because I had so
     much going on. First, RL was incredibly hectic at the end of the
     year, and honestly, when I had time to write, I was usually too
     exhausted to do so. Then just before Christmas, I managed to fracture
     a finger at work, which put a serious damper on my typing skills.
     Then I found out the hard way that my Pages app on iPad and iPhone no
     longer communicate with each other. My iPad is a gen1 and the OS is
     no longer being updated, so with the latest update I can no longer go
     into a doc on either device and have it save. So imagine my utter
     horror when the nearly completed chapter got deleted and didn't back
     up to the cloud. I shed actual tears over that, not even gonna lie. I
     think I was able to reproduce the chapter (hopefully) admirably. I
     sincerely hope everyone enjoys this chapter and I will truly try not
     to take months on the next update.
      Many thanks to all of you who took time to visit my ask on Tumblr. I
     got so many messages of support and encouragement. Feel free to visit
     anytime! All my love to my wifey Shelley, who did the initial read
     through and made some excellent suggestions to make this chapter
     better, and to my beta Sies, who made a suggestion about a part of
     this fic that I think made it better and hotter. Loves also to Sam,
     who got this fic going in the first place, and to Riah, who isn't in
     this fandom, yet still let me freak out in her ask and took time to
     help me out with a part I was struggling with.
     Gorgeous graphic by Beth
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Do you understand, pretty boy?
Stiles kicked his shoes off into the corner and lined them up neatly against
the wall. He pulled off his socks and tossed them into the laundry hamper,
quickly followed by his flannel, and then tugged his shirt over his head,
managing to only get caught in it once in his haste. Opening his jeans gave
some much needed relief on his hardening cock, but he managed to get one foot
caught in the leg. He was sure he looked ridiculous, hopping on one foot and
struggling to free the other, all while sporting a hard-on. Awesome. Thank god
Derek couldn't see him right now, he would probably think he had claimed a
defective submissive and be questioning his life choices all over again.
Stripped down to his briefs, Stiles took a shaky breath. This was it, finally.
He wasn't sure he'd ever anticipated something so much while at the same time
being one step away from sheer terror. Three days ago he hadn't even known of
Derek Hale's existence, much less that he would be wearing his cuff. Yet here
he was, preparing to be dominated by one of the hottest guys he'd ever seen,
and something about it felt so right he wasn't sure he could explain it.
What even was his life, seriously.
He wasn't sure when Derek would be back, so Stiles knew he needed to get to it.
He had been given instructions by his Dom, and the last thing he wanted to do
was disappoint him by not doing as he'd said to. Taking a deep breath, he
shimmied out of his briefs and tossed them in the hamper with the rest of his
clothes. Stiles closed his eyes and concentrated on his breathing and the warm
sensation gathered in his chest that seemed almost soothing. When he opened his
eyes, he felt calm and clear headed. His reflection in the mirror above the
dresser was wide-eyed, but not with fear. Rather, his eyes shone with something
akin to exhilaration. His skin tingled with eagerness and Stiles was hyper
aware of the warm, supple leather wrapped around his wrist.
He took a moment to stroke the cuff, thrilling at the softness of it and how it
already fit him as comfortably as if he had been wearing it for months instead
of hours. Stiles had known as soon as he'd seen this particular cuff that it
was meant to be his. He had looked at so many that he had been worried that
Derek was starting to lose his patience. Somehow he had known his cuff was
there, he just had to find it. When he had seen this one, it was as if
something had aligned inside him. He had known beyond the shadow of a doubt
this cuff was meant to belong to him.
When it seemed like Derek hadn't liked the cuff, Stiles had to swallow down his
disappointment. No other cuff would have felt right after holding that one, but
he would have done what his Dom wanted. He had felt embarrassed and a little
unsure; maybe he was wrong about the cuff and maybe Derek didn't want him
wearing something so obvious. But then he had listened to Stiles' explanation
of why he liked it and had gotten it for him with no further questions.
Nothing he had ever studied in school had prepared him for Derek Hale. It had,
however, prepared him to be a good submissive, and Stiles knew he was one of
the best. It was time to show his Dom just how obedient he could be. He went to
the bed and pulled the blankets and sheets back so they wouldn't be in the way,
and clambered onto the bed. Once he was in the center, he knelt up on his knees
in the traditional submissive pose, knees slightly apart for comfort and
balance, hands resting on his thighs in anticipation of his Dom's instructions,
head down in obeisance. He trembled slightly, though he wasn't sure if it was
more excitement or nerves—both seemed a reasonable response. Stiles mentally
high fived himself on carrying out orders and wondered how long Derek would
have him wait. As if in answer, he heard footsteps on the stairs, and his heart
leapt in anticipation.
===============================================================================
Derek purposefully took the stairs one at a time, keeping a loose grip on the
handrail as he made his way to the kitchen and concentrating on bringing his
breathing and heart beat back to normal. His gums and fingertips tingled as his
fangs and claws receded and his vision swam for a breadth of a second before
returning to normal human vision. Control was of the essence here. Stiles was
depending on him to do things right and to take care of him, and Derek fully
intended to do just that.
When Derek walked into the kitchen, Libby looked up at him and smiled
encouragingly. She was obviously prepared to leave for the day and Derek
suddenly realized how unusually quiet the house was. At his questioning look,
Libby gestured to the island where an envelope with his name written on it in
Laura's familiar flowing scrawl was propped up against the fruit bowl.
"Mistress Laura left you a note explaining everything. The Alpha has given the
house submissives the night off early, as well as the weekend, and with pay at
that. Very generous of him," she said quietly. "I'm the last one and I just
wanted to be sure everything was in place before I left. Do you require
anything, Mister Derek?"
Derek shook his head at her distractedly. "No, thanks, Lib. Enjoy your
weekend," he said, paying her no further attention as she slipped out of the
room, closing the front door quietly behind her as she left. He tore open the
envelope and read the note inside:
Derek,
Congratulations on your new submissive! It's about time! As a gift to you, I
sweet-talked Peter into us making ourselves scarce for the next few days and
giving you some well-deserved privacy. (I even let him think it was his idea.
You're welcome.) We have opted to take our submissives to the spa for a weekend
of pampering, and maybe a little punishing, too. ;) The staff has the weekend
off, so you and your adorable boy will have the house all to yourself. Libby is
'on call' if you need anything, although I rather doubt you will. The keys for
the playroom are in their normal place if you manage to venture outside of your
bedroom. The hot tub is cleaned, ready, and available, as is the pool.
I packed a small cooler and put it under your side of the bed, all full with
aftercare essentials so you don't have to get out of bed after your scenes and
can concentrate on your submissive. Peter went ahead and had a mini fridge
installed in the corner of your room next to your desk. You may not think much
of that now, but believe me, you'll thank him later. I made sure it was stocked
with plenty of juice and water. There's also meat and cheese cuts, fruit
slices, and some whipped cream and chocolate syrup. Use those as you see fit.
The basket on top has protein and granola bars, peanut butter crackers, and a
variety of chocolates. There is a small electric kettle to heat water and a
multipack of teas if you prefer that to water or juice. Sugar and honey are
next to the kettle.
The box in the bottom drawer of your nightstand has wet wipes, aloe vera
lotion, hydrogel, lidocaine wipes, and basic first aid supplies should you
require them. There are also a few different lubricants in the top drawer to
experiment with, if you like. Clean linens are in the closet upstairs, just in
case you've forgotten.
We will be back sometime Sunday evening. I'll send you a text to give you
specifics so you know when to expect us. Enjoy your weekend and congratulations
again on your claim. Just so you know, I am so incredibly happy for you, and I
believe mom and dad would have loved him, too.
Have fun!
Love always,
Lola
P.S. Stay out of my room. I'll know if you fuck in my bed.
Derek rolled his eyes, feeling a rush of exasperation and genuine affection for
his sister as he refolded the note and put it back in the envelope. Thanks to
her and his uncle, he had pretty much everything he needed to scene with Stiles
and give him proper aftercare, which was good because he hadn't even thought
about it between resisting a claim in the first place and then having one
happen as quickly as it had. He felt overwhelmed for a brief moment with the
reality of what was happening. How could he have forgotten something so basic
yet important as an aftercare kit? What if he did something wrong? What if
Stiles decided he'd made a mistake? Derek grabbed the countertop with both
hands and squeezed it as he fought down the panic clawing at his insides. He
could do this. He was an experienced Dom that was skilled and capable, damn it,
and he would not have a nervous breakdown over the fact that his (young and
completely inexperienced, Jesus Christ) submissive wearing his cuff was
currently upstairs in his room awaiting his arrival.
Opening the cabinet where the glasses were, Derek took one down and walked over
to the refrigerator. He stuck the cup under the ice maker to fill it, then took
the Brita pitcher out and poured it full of cold water with hands that trembled
ever so slightly, although he mentally denied that. Breathing deeply in order
to calm himself, he sipped it slowly and deliberately. A quick glance at the
clock had him placing the glass in the sink. He washed his hands and headed
upstairs for his room. It wouldn't do to leave Stiles alone and waiting for him
for too long. When he reached his door, Derek took one final deep breath to
steady himself and turned the doorknob.
The sight that met his eyes nearly took his breath away. As he had been told,
Stiles knelt in the center of the bed, head down, hands resting on his slightly
spread thighs. He wore nothing but his new cuff, the symbol of Derek's
ownership stark against the pale skin it encompassed. His hair was tousled and
his cheeks were flushed, his already semi-erect cock resting between his
thighs.
He was beautiful.
As directed, Stiles had put his clothes in the hamper and Derek was pleased to
see he had even pulled the blankets back on the bed in preparation and
invitation. There was something so inherently pleasurable about an eager
submissive that awaited their Dom's attentions. The room was filled with the
utterly mouthwatering scents of excitement and arousal, along with a slight
undercurrent of anxiety and something more that Derek couldn't quite identify,
all rolling off his boy in waves. His submissive. His wolf, never far from the
surface, lowly rumbled its approval. It made him want to toss his head back and
howl his satisfaction to the world.
Dominance coursed through him, hot and thick in his blood. Derek closed his
door softly behind him, noting with approval that even though he trembled
slightly, Stiles didn't move from his position on the bed. He toed his shoes
and socks off and kicked them to the side out of the way.
"Just look at you," he crooned softly as he walked slowly towards the bed,
keeping his tone low and soothing. "Such a pretty boy and so good for me."
Derek began removing his shirt with slow deliberation, noting how Stiles
watched him under lowered lashes. He could hear his boy's breath hitch softly
and the erratic pounding of his heartbeat. His hard cock throbbed as it pressed
against the confines of his jeans, and he didn't miss Stiles' quick glance
there, or the nervous yet tantalizing way he licked his lips in response. A
practiced toss sent his shirt flying to the hamper, and Derek knelt on the edge
of the bed with one knee.
"Are you alright? You aren't cold? It's okay to answer me," Derek said as he
reached out to gently trace his fingers over Stiles' cheeks and down his neck.
He felt the movement of throat muscles working as Stiles swallowed heavily
before answering.
"I'm not cold," answered Stiles, his voice sounding slightly breathless, making
Derek's cock throb.
"Good. Before we start playing, do you remember your safewords?" Derek asked,
continuing to lightly stroke Stiles' throat. He smiled when Stiles nodded.
"Excellent. And what are they?"
Stiles licked his lips and answered, "Green if everything is okay, yellow if I
need a break or am close to a limit, red if I need to stop."
"That's my good boy," Derek said approvingly. He laid Stiles back and arranged
him against the pillows, then raised his arms to place his hands on the bars of
the headboard. Kneeling beside his submissive, he said, "I am going to touch
you now and get myself more familiar with your body. For now I want you just
like this. Keep still with your hands holding on the headboard. Don't let go.
If you let go, I stop what I'm doing. Color?"
"Green," Stiles whispered. His eyelashes fluttered shut and Derek nearly
groaned when he leaned into his touch, rolling his head to the side and baring
his neck to him. His wolf wanted him to lean in and take, mindlessly accept
what was being so innocently offered. But he wasn't going to rush things. This
was Stiles' first time being dominated in a scene and Derek was determined to
do it right.
Derek began to leisurely explore, running his hands over the body of his
submissive, mapping him with his hands as he'd admittedly wanted to do from the
start. His alert gaze and sensitive hearing were paying close attention to the
reactions Stiles would be having. It was important to him that he learn from
the physical cues he was being given so that in time he would in turn be able
to know his submissive's body as well as his own.
An intake of breath when his thumbs grazed Stiles' nipples made Derek smile.
"Sensitive?" he asked quietly.
"Y-yes Sir," Stiles answered, stuttering slightly when Derek rubbed his thumbs
over the hardening paps again. When he bit his lip to fight back a moan, Derek
shook his head.
"Hey, no. Don't do that," Derek admonished lightly, raising one hand back to
Stiles' face and cradling his cheek gently while popping his lower lip loose
from his teeth with his thumb and gently rubbing it to soothe it. "Not tonight.
I want to hear you. I want to know what you like, what makes you feel good, and
this is how I'll learn. It will please me to know I am giving you pleasure."
Stiles nodded his head, the action causing him to nuzzle Derek's hand and
making his Dom smile. "Okay," he agreed.
Derek took a moment to admire the beauty of the boy laid out before him like
the most tempting of buffets. His gums tingled ever so slightly and he willed
the wolf back down, determined to maintain his control. He resumed running his
hands lightly over Stiles. Stroking the inner skin of his submissive's arms
made goosebumps rise up and caused a delightful shiver. He traced lightly
across strong collarbones before laying his palms flat on Stiles' chest and
sliding them down, making sure to flick the nipples again as he passed,
enjoying the low grunt he got in response. When Derek ran his fingers down
Stiles' sides, the submissive jerked and huffed a laugh. His boy was ticklish.
He placed his hands flat against Stiles' belly and just held them there,
feeling the warm skin and the muscles underneath twitch in response. He began
rubbing softly along the defined lines that outlined Stiles' hips, moving
outward and carefully away from the now fully erect cock that strained for his
attention. He grasped Stiles by the hips and gave them a squeeze, pleased when
that earned a soft gasp from his submissive.
Derek continued his explorations, moving lower to stroke trim and muscular
thighs and calves. Stiles wriggled above him, his breath coming in soft pants
as Derek began working his way back up his legs on the inside, lightly scraping
his nails against the sensitive skin of the inner part his thighs. He could see
Stiles' cock throb in response. Although he was extremely tempted to keep
teasing Stiles and making him wait, Derek knew what his boy wanted. There would
be time for that when Stiles was better at control. His submissive was so
beautiful, laying in his bed, breath coming in quick bursts, skin flushing a
rosy pink and covered in a fine sheen of sweat. His fingers were pale where
they curled hard around the headboard bars, but he was careful not to move his
hands away, making sure to obey.
"You're doing so well for me, Stiles. Being so good," Derek praised, pleased
when Stiles' cheeks flushed pink in delight. He turned and leaned down to open
the bottom drawer of his nightstand. As Laura promised, there were several
lubricants in the drawer. He grabbed a tube of the easily recognizable KY but
was momentarily distracted, then intrigued, by the selections of flavored
lubes, heating and cooling lubes, the ever familiar Astroglide, and even a
large container of Pjur Backdoor that he had heard rave reviews about but
hadn't ever tried personally. When he had time he would have to investigate
them further, but right now he had a much more pressing matter to tend to. He
popped the cap and squeezed a dollop into his hand, flexing it to spread the
lube and warm it some. He tossed the tube back into the drawer and turned back
to his boy.
"Color?" Derek asked as he situated himself to lay next to Stiles with his
lubricated hand hovering above his erection.
Stiles breathed out as though it had been punched out of him. "Green. Green,
green, so very green."
"Good boy. Remember, you aren't to come. Not until I tell you. If you get close
I want you to tell me, okay?" When Stiles nodded, Derek grinned wolfishly, eyes
flashing blue before turning back to their normal color.
===============================================================================
Stiles felt as though his heart was going to hammer out of his chest. His
fingers ached slightly from their hard grip on the headboard, but he was not
about to let go and have his Dom stop any of the amazing things he had been
doing. His blood rushed under his skin like molten lava, thick and hot with
want, heavy with submission. His skin tingled and felt almost electric
everywhere Derek touched him, as though it crackled with its own energy. Stiles
knew he was hard but he couldn't even think of that, not when his Dom had told
him not to come.
Having Derek's hands on him had been its own sort of sensual delight. Stiles
had always been tactile by nature, like submissives generally were, but nothing
had prepared him for the bliss that came with being touched by his Dom. He had
nearly shivered in anticipation as Derek ran his hands all over him, because it
felt as though every nerve ending he had was ablaze with sensation. Stiles
simultaneously craved and dreaded for him to touch his cock, because he
couldn't, he wouldn't come until Derek told him he could. He would be a good
boy.
When Derek finally wrapped a well lubed hand around his aching erection, Stiles
nearly jerked his hips in response. It was apparent his Dom had anticipated his
movement because he made a low, soothing noise while his other hand found its
way to Stiles' hip to gently hold him in place on the bed. Stiles moaned
helplessly, eyes fluttering shut as skilled fingers pumped him steadily. Each
stroke sent a wave of undiluted pleasure through him, so different and so much
better than his own hand had ever been.
"God," Stiles moaned when a twist of Derek's wrist sent another heated jolt of
pleasure through him, causing his fingers to tighten even more around the bars
of the bed frame.
Derek's low huff of laughter was amused. "You don't have to call me God, you
know. Sir is fine."
"Oh, ok, wolf's—ah!—got jokes, I see," Stiles snorted even as his eye roll
turned from one of amused exasperation to one of ecstasy as Derek's fingers
teased around the head of his dick in response to his sass. His Dom didn't
reprimand him but instead began jerking him off quicker, pushing him towards
the edge with experienced skill. Stiles tossed his head back, writhing and
panting in harsh gasps while reminding himself over and over not to come.
"Sir! Please, I'm close, I'm close!" Stiles gasped, hips jerking forward even
with Derek holding him. Immediately, his Dom slid his hand to the base of
Stiles' cock and wrapped around it tightly for a moment, not moving. Stiles
moaned and struggled to regain some sort of control of himself. He had been
told not to come and he wanted so much to please Derek.
Stiles was just beginning to come away from the edge when Derek began to move
his hand slowly up and down his cock again. "You're doing so good, Stiles,"
Derek praised him. "Do you think you can handle a little more? I'm really
enjoying the feel of your cock in my hand."
Stiles moaned softly, licking his lips and tasting the fine layer of sweat
covering his skin. He nodded his head jerkily. "Yes, Sir," he whispered,
wanting to wriggle in giddiness at the pleased satisfaction on his Dom's face.
"Such a good boy for me," Derek murmured proudly. "Being so good deserves a
reward, doesn't it? Do you want to come, Stiles? Would you like me to make you
come with my hand?"
Stiles nodded jerkily. "Please, Sir, it's so much, please, I want to come so
bad," he pleaded. "Please let me come."
Derek hummed under his breath in approval as he continued to stroke Stiles with
a maddening touch. "Such pretty words coming from that pretty mouth. I want to
do five more strokes, can you do that for me? After that you can come whenever
you want to."
"Yes, Sir," Stiles said breathily, already trembling with the exertion of
holding back. His grip on the headboard was so tight he wasn't sure if he would
ever be able to unwrap his fingers from it. Derek leaned over to count out loud
with his lips nearly pressed to Stiles', honey eyes held by green.
"One...two...three...four...five..."
Stiles closed his eyes as Derek captured his mouth with his own, swallowing the
loud groan he made as he came hard over Derek's hand and his own belly. Sparks
flashed behind his eyes and it was like wind rushing through his mind until he
felt as though he was floating, as though time had no meaning. He could hear
Derek whispering softly against his ear but couldn't understand what he was
saying through the pleasant buzz humming in his brain. The bed dipped as his
Dom shifted away, and Stiles whimpered softly in protest. Before he could mourn
the loss too long, though, he felt a cool wipe being rubbed over his stomach to
clean him up. He was vaguely aware of gentle hands working his fingers loose
from the headboard, rubbing them until they began to regain some feeling.
Warmth surrounded him and he gave himself into the sensation of being safe and
cared for.
When his mind finally floated to the surface and back into his body, Stiles
found himself being held tight against Derek's chest. His Dom was rubbing his
back soothingly with one hand and massaging his hands with the other, all while
pressing gentle kisses to his face and neck. A low, pleased rumble was coming
from his throat. When Stiles shifted slightly, Derek loosened his arms and
leaned up to smile at him.
"Hi there, pretty boy, welcome back," Derek said, rubbing his nose against
Stiles' in an Eskimo kiss. "You did so well for me. Such a good boy. Do you
think you can sit up against the pillows? You need to drink some water."
Stiles nodded agreeably, though he still felt practically boneless. With
Derek's assistance, he sat up. He flexed his fingers, noting that while they
still felt a little stiff from their death grip on the headboard, having Derek
rubbing them had helped a lot. He himself felt loose, pliant, and pleasantly
relaxed. When Derek had arranged the pillows behind and around Stiles to his
satisfaction and had covered him with the blanket, he climbed out of the bed to
go to the corner of the room where there was a new refrigerator Stiles hadn't
seen there before. Stiles' eyes widened when he saw the large tattoo on his
Dom's back. It was identical to the symbol on the first cuff he'd looked at
today; a triskelion, Derek had called it. Werewolf skin didn't tattoo like
human skin, and Stiles knew exactly what Derek had gone through to get that
permanently etched on his back. He would have to ask about it later when his
brain wasn't still pleasantly muddled from orgasm.
"How are your hands?" Derek called over his shoulder as he opened the
refrigerator and took out two bottles of water, then took something from the
basket on top.
Stiles smiled ruefully. It didn't really surprise him that Derek had noticed
him flexing his fingers. They didn't hurt all that much, though, and he didn't
want Derek worried about it. "It's not so bad. You rubbing them helped a lot, I
think." When Derek nodded his head, Stiles knew his Dom could tell he wasn't
lying.
When Derek came back to the bed and sat down, Stiles could plainly see the
erection that was pushing at the front of the jeans he still wore. He accepted
the bottle of water from his Dom and opened it, taking several swallows before
replacing the cap. He noticed Derek was unwrapping a Hershey's kiss and smiled.
"Open," Derek instructed. Stiles opened his mouth and his Dom popped the candy
in, then leaned forward to give his lips a quick smacking kiss. Stiles let it
melt in his mouth, working it around with his tongue to savor the sweetness of
the chocolate. When he looked up, he could see Derek staring at his mouth
hungrily. He swallowed the chocolate, then licked his lips, heart beating
faster as Derek's eyes followed his tongue's movement and his eyes darkened.
Derek opened a second candy and indicated that Stiles should open his mouth
again. This time, Derek slowly traced Stiles' lips with the candy before
pushing it gently into his mouth. Stiles closed his lips around his Dom's
fingers and licked them before he pulled them out of his mouth, causing Derek
to growl softly. They stared at each other unblinkingly while Stiles chewed the
chocolate. He hummed with pleasure as he swallowed, making sure to lick his
lips again.
Stiles whimpered softly as Derek leaned forward and kissed him, his mouth hard
and masterful, claiming Stiles' mouth like he owned it, like he had already
claimed his body. Stiles wanted to crawl under his skin and stay there. He
could feel the heat coming off of Derek in waves and felt a need to touch his
Dom. Stiles knew Derek was still hard, and that wouldn't do at all. Suddenly it
was very important to him that Derek come, too.
"Sir, please, can I make you come?" Stiles asked, shuddering as Derek scraped
his teeth along the sensitive patch of skin below his ear where dark proof of
his Dom's possession stood in dark contrast against the paleness of his skin.
Derek ran his lips lightly over the outer edge of Stiles' ear before teasing it
with his tongue. "Is that what you want, pretty boy?" he asked, his breath hot
against Stiles' neck.
Pretty boy. Just hearing those words coming from his Dom made Stiles want to
preen in happiness at knowing his Dom was pleased. Letting his sub instincts
take over, he tilted his head slightly to the side, baring his throat in the
way he knew Derek liked. Lowering his lashes, he licked his kiss-swollen lips
and whispered softly, "Please, Sir, your boy wants to make you come."
A low growl sounded in the back of Derek's throat and his eyes flashed bright
blue as he quickly moved to stand next to the bed. He looked around the room
wildly as though searching for something. "Shit," he swore when it seemed he
wasn't seeing what he wanted. Derek grabbed one of the pillows off the bed and
tossed it on the floor.
"Remind me to get kneeling pillows. I want you comfortable when you're on your
knees for me," Derek huffed, as Stiles scrambled off the bed, already
anticipating what the pillow was for. He dropped to his knees and looked up at
Derek with near breathless anticipation. His Dom cradled his face in one hand
while reaching for the button of his jeans with the other.
"I want your mouth, Stiles. I want those perfect lips stretched wide around my
cock. I want you to suck me until I'm close to coming. I won't come in your
mouth, not tonight. I don't think you've earned that just yet. But one day I
will, when you've shown me how much you deserve it." Derek smiled when he saw
Stiles' lips part and his pupils dilate at just the mention of being good and
earning something from him. His submissive's entire body give a visible shiver.
"Do you want my cock, pretty boy?" Derek crooned as he kicked his jeans off and
stood before Stiles in just his briefs.
Already reeling from Derek's seductive words, Stiles felt a mixed sensation of
anticipation and anxiety. He had certainly seen his fair share of blow jobs
while doing his "research" watching Internet porn to help him somewhat prepare
for his future Dominant. Now that he was moments away from seeing and actually
touching a cock that wasn't his own, much less putting it in his mouth, he
wasn't quite sure exactly how to begin. So much for having a plan in place.
Should he dive right in? Jerk Derek off first? Kiss it? Lick it? Even with his
briefs still on, Stiles was fairly certain Derek would be able to test his gag
reflex. Oh, god, was he going to gag? That would be both horrifying and
embarrassing if he managed to choke on his Dom's dick his very first attempt at
giving head. Maybe he was too eager? Was it possible to be too enthusiastic?
Maybe he would be incredibly sloppy and end up giving Derek the worst blow job
he'd ever gotten, and Derek would be so disappointed he would never let Stiles
blow him ever again. Or worse, decide he'd obviously made a mistake and make
Stiles give back his cuff. His beautiful wolfy cuff that had just called to him
when he saw it.
"Stiles? Are you okay?"
Stiles realized he hadn't responded to Derek and was actually panting softly as
he worked himself up in his head over his lack of experience with oral sex.
Derek sounded concerned and his hand that was still cupping Stiles' cheek was
gentle as it tilted his head back to make Stiles look at him. He swallowed
heavily and nodded. "Yes, Sir, I'm okay."
"Are you sure? What's your color? Do we need to stop?" Derek asked as he looked
Stiles over carefully, head tilted slightly as though he was listening to make
sure Stiles wasn't about to freak out.
"No! I mean, green, my color is green. I'm okay, I'm just a little nervous
about doing this. I've never done it before and I don't want you disappointed
with me," Stiles confessed. He was worried he had already screwed up as it was,
that Derek would just decide not to bother, and Stiles really didn't want that,
because he wanted so much to please his Dom and show just what a good boy he
could be. He snuck another look at the cotton-covered bulge at eye level and
swallowed heavily.
Derek gave him a little smile. "I'm not going to be disappointed with you,
Stiles," he said firmly. "I know this is probably a bit overwhelming for you
and I understand. We're in this together, right? I know you haven't done this
before and that's part of my job, to teach you and take care of you. Do you
trust me? If you aren't sure of something or aren't comfortable, remember you
can safeword at any time."
Stiles nodded. He actually felt better already, just confessing his anxiety and
having Derek reassure him. Well, he had always been a quick and enthusiastic
learner, and there was no time like the present to get started. He put his
hands on the elastic waistband of Derek's briefs and asked, "May I take these
off, Sir?"
Derek looked as though he relaxed slightly once he realized Stiles was really
okay. He nodded and stood still with his hands at his sides as Stiles pulled
the briefs down, carefully so as not to catch them on the erection that rose
hard and proud from his Dom's groin. He stared at it for a moment, taking in
every inch of exposed skin. Wow. If Stiles had ever had any question about his
more-than-passing interest in dick, it was out the window now. He could still
without a doubt appreciate soft curves and breasts, but he couldn't wait to get
his mouth on that. In fact, it had just become his top priority in life.
When Derek stepped out of his briefs and kicked them to the side, Stiles
scooted forward on his pillow to get closer. He wrapped his hand carefully
around the base of Derek's cock, still a little unsure how exactly to proceed.
He decided to start by giving it a slow and slightly tentative pump, which
earned him an encouraging noise from Derek. Yeah, he could do this. Leaning
forward, he pressed his lips against the hooded head, kissing it softly. When
he heard his Dom suck in a quick breath, he did it again, then began to work
his way down the hard length of shaft, small kisses and kitten licks until he
had his face pressed in the dark hair at the base. He breathed in deeply,
thinking that if someone had told him he would enjoy the mixed scents of sweat
and clean musk coming from another man's body, he might not have believed it.
He did now. It was kind of intoxicating.
Turning his attention back to what he was doing, Stiles leaned down a bit and
ran his tongue slowly up the underside of Derek's cock from base to head. When
he reached the end, he slipped it under the edge of foreskin to lick
experimentally around the head. There was a salty, slightly bitter taste that
Stiles identified as pre-come and though it was definitely different, it wasn't
unpleasant at all.
Stiles leaned back, licking his lips and taking a moment to savor the taste in
his mouth a little longer. He noticed that Derek's hands were no longer loose
at his sides but instead were curled into fists.
"Sir? Am I doing okay so far?" Stiles asked, having a moment of self-doubt.
Derek's face was a little strained, but he was quick to answer. "You're doing
just fine, Stiles," he assured him. "It feels really good."
Stiles let out a small sigh of relief. Feeling a little more emboldened, he
took a deep breath and sucked the head of Derek's dick into his mouth. He took
a moment to get used to it, his lips feeling a bit stretched around the girth,
and then gave a little suck before licking under the foreskin again.
"Jesus Christ," Derek hissed, moving his feet slightly wider apart. His hands
moved as though to grab Stiles by the head and then fluttered back to his sides
to repeatedly open and close into fists.
Stiles decided that he must be doing something right. Maybe he wasn't horrible
at this after all. He fully intended to give this his very best effort, because
he wanted so much for this to be good for his Dom. All those videos he had
watched had made cock sucking look like it was nothing at all, but now that he
actually had one in his mouth he decided they did nothing to make one
understand the feeling of power it gave. He knew with no doubt that at that
moment he was the center of Derek's world, and it was a heady feeling indeed.
He moaned, in turn eliciting a moan from Derek, and that did it. He had to have
more.
Stiles opened his mouth a little wider and relaxed his tongue so he could slide
his lips a little further down Derek's cock. He took a breath through his nose
and slid just a little further, making sure not to take too much and gag
himself. Slowly, he pulled back, running his tongue along the underside and
sucking lightly as he went. There was another small burst of tangy flavor in
his mouth, and he took a moment to savor it before swallowing around the head.
"God, Stiles," Derek groaned, running the shaky fingers of one hand through
Stiles' hair. "You look incredible like this. I knew you would. That mouth of
yours. You're doing so well for me. So good."
Stiles didn't answer but instead looked up at his Dom from underneath his
lashes as he moved his mouth back down, again taking Derek as deep as he dared.
He hollowed out his cheeks and dragged his mouth up, then sank it down again.
His jaw felt a little strained, but the ache was definitely worth it. He knew
with practice he would get better, be able to take Derek deeper, and he decided
that he was definitely looking forward to it. In the meantime, he wrapped his
hand around the base of Derek's cock to handle what his mouth couldn't.
Remembering a move he had seen in several pornos, he started moving his hand
along with his mouth, sliding them both up and down together. His spit helped
make things a bit more slippery, and his hand and lips slid along Derek's flesh
with ease as Stiles gained confidence with what he was doing.
It was so much better than Stiles had ever imagined, and considering the scope
of his imagination, that was saying something. Derek's cock was throbbing, hot
and hard in his mouth, its texture smooth and almost silky. The taste, once he
got used to it, was definitely not bad. As he worked his Dom over with his
mouth and his hand and listened to the pleasured noises he was making, Stiles
decided that for a first time effort he hadn't done half bad. He was hard
again, himself, but that didn't concern him as he concentrated on bringing
Derek closer to the edge. When Derek pulled on his hair, Stiles hummed in
approval, which in turn made Derek groan loudly.
"Stiles," rasped Derek, his voice sounding slightly wrecked, "I'm about to
come. I need you to stop now."
Stiles felt a little pang of disappointment, pulling his mouth off Derek's cock
with a little pop. Even though he had really been enjoying taking care of his
Dom, he probably wasn't quite ready for him to come in his mouth. That made
earning the privilege even more exciting, he had to admit. He looked up at his
Dom from under his lashes, wondering what was going to happen next.
Derek groaned and motioned to the bed. "Those eyes, I swear to god. Up on the
bed, Stiles. Lay down on the pillows on your back. Don't touch yourself."
Stiles scrambled to his feet, quickly obeying. He rearranged the scattered
pillows and lay back, looking expectantly at his Dom to see what happened next.
Derek stroked his cock as he walked to the bed and climbed on it. "I wish you
could have seen yourself," he murmured, moving to straddle Stiles' thighs. "You
looked so good on your knees with your lips wrapped around my cock. God, your
fucking mouth, Stiles. Your lips look all swollen and red right now and it's
all I can do not to come on your face. I bet you'd look so pretty, all covered
in my come. Maybe one day we'll try that, what do you think?"
Without waiting for an answer, Derek moved so that he was laying on top of
Stiles, moving so that their cocks were lined up together. Stiles caught his
breath as his Dom began moving against him, rubbing their cocks together in a
sinfully delicious manner that was going to drive him out of his mind,
especially when Derek leaned up slightly and moved his hand between them to
grab both their cocks and began jerking them together.
"I'm close," Derek breathed. "We'll start working on your control later, but
this time it's okay for you to come whenever you need to."
Having had Derek's dick in his mouth and now his hand jerking Stiles' dick next
to his own, along with his permission to come must have done something for
Stiles. He was tossing his head back and coming in what seemed like record
time, painting his belly a second time with hot, white stripes. That seemed to
be all Derek needed, because within moments he, too, was coming between them,
breathing in and out in harsh pants.
Stiles made a low noise of pleasure when Derek began rubbing their mixed come
into his skin as he'd done the night before. His Dom looked sated and pleased,
a low rumble coming from his chest as he again marked Stiles as his. When he
was satisfied with his handiwork, he once more leaned down to lick Stiles'
belly clean. Stiles flinched when at one point Derek's ministrations hit a
ticklish spot, but he was far too blissed out to do more than snicker and
mumble "Tickles," when Derek huffed at him.
When Derek finally collapsed on top of him, Stiles wrapped his arms tightly
around his Dom's neck and reveled in their closeness. The weight on him was
pleasant and gave him a sensation of warmth, safety, and comfort, of being
owned and cared for. Derek's hands were slowly moving, one softly stroking him,
the other reaching up to caress the leather cuff on his wrist, and he lay with
his face firmly planted in the juncture of Stiles' neck and shoulder, breathing
deeply and making occasional chuffs of what Stiles was positive was
satisfaction. He was warm and pleasantly buzzed with the afterglow of two
awesome and not self-induced orgasms, he had managed to slip into subspace for
a time, and he was pretty sure that even in his inexperience he had rocked his
Dom's world. Making a soft noise of contentment, Stiles closed his eyes and
drifted off to sleep held tightly in his Dom's embrace.
===============================================================================
Derek lay quietly, listening as Stiles' breathing became slower and deeper,
indicating that he was asleep. His heart beat steadily in his chest, the sound
rhythmic and comforting. Even though Stiles hadn't indicated any discomfort,
Derek was sure he must be getting heavy even if Stiles had been able to fall
asleep. Careful not to shake the bed, Derek slid slowly to the side. He raised
Stiles' arm that wore his cuff and pressed his lips softly to the soft leather
before silently sliding out of the bed.
The moon had risen while they were playing, and Derek quietly slid the balcony
door open to step outside. The night air was cool against his bare skin, but by
no means uncomfortable with his body's supernatural system. Soft moonlight
illuminated the back yard and reflected off the water in the pool below. It was
due to be a full moon in just a couple of days, and Derek could feel the pull
as he always did. This time seemed different, though, which was interesting. He
hadn't needed to be locked up on the full moon in years, so that wasn't a
concern anyway, but what was intriguing was how settled he felt this time, even
on the cusp of it.
After Kate had deceived him and killed his entire family, Derek had been
wracked with self-doubt and loathing. He had sworn, had been determined that he
would never take on a regular submissive, since obviously he couldn't be
counted on to get it right and caused harm rather than good. He had kept his
dominance in check and avoided letting himself from going feral by going to the
sub clubs frequently and regularly. If he had lost himself to the wolf by not
tending to his dominant nature, Peter and Laura would have had no choice but to
put him down, and he just couldn't do that to them, couldn't be the source of
even more pain to what was left of his family. He had thought that he was doing
okay, keeping himself sane by working hard and tending to his needs as he saw
fit. He had politely but firmly rebuffed any offers from submissives and all
efforts by his sister and uncle to have him take on a submissive of his own
until finally Peter had taken matters into his own hands and then pulled rank
to make it happen. Derek had resented the hell out of him for it.
Derek was not prepared for how blown away he would be by Stiles.
His control that he had always prided himself on had been tested from the
beginning. Never had the wolf been so close to the surface. Derek had never had
such a keen sense of want, need, own, MINE in his life. He had played with
submissives of all types, had been a favorite Dominant among the clubs. He had
never wanted to keep any of them. There had never been a submissive among them
that had pleased him as much as Stiles had tonight. Every noise he had made had
been music to Derek's ears, his eagerness to please had made the dominance in
Derek's blood sing. What he lacked in experience, Stiles made up for in sheer
enthusiasm and a desire to serve his Dom.
Derek would be lying if he said it didn't give him a deep sense of satisfaction
to be the first one to see Stiles like this, be the one to teach him so many
things. His boy was incredibly beautiful, and Derek could admit to
himself—though never to Peter, because the bastard was smug enough as it was—he
was lucky that another dominant hadn't already claimed him. Why that hadn't
happened, he couldn't understand. Stiles was everything he had ever wanted in a
submissive, he as near perfect as he could be, how was it that no one else had
recognized it? Their loss was Derek's gain, though, and it was just as well
Peter had pulled strings to get Stiles to be his, because if Stiles had been in
another claim, Derek wasn't so sure he might not have risked trying to take him
from his dominant. Even the idea of someone else having Stiles made the wolf
restless under his skin, made him want to snap and bite at something. He had
wanted Stiles from the very first moment he had seen him, and he could admit
that to himself now.
A soft noise of discontent reached his sensitive ears, and Derek quickly went
back inside, making sure to lock the balcony door behind him. Stiles was curled
up into a ball and had worked his way over to Derek's side of the bed. A small
frown marred his sleeping face and his cuffed arm was stretched out as though
he was looking for something. Even in sleep his boy reached for him. Derek felt
a little pang, scolding himself for getting lost in his thoughts and being gone
too long. Touch and contact were important for a submissive, especially early
in a claim, and Stiles was obviously feeling the discomfort of not having his
Dom near to him.
Derek walked to the bed, his bare feet making no noise on the thick carpeting.
He gently slid Stiles' arm over and lowered himself into the bed, careful not
to jostle his sleeping submissive. When he was settled, he turned Stiles on his
side and pulled him back so that he held him tightly to his chest. As soon as
his arms were around him, Derek pressed a kiss to the dark mark he had sucked
on the skin below Stiles' ear, rubbing his face on his neck and scenting him so
that he smelled even more strongly of Derek. Stiles had relaxed as soon as
Derek had held him close, and he sighed softly in his sleep as his Dom happily
rubbed his face along his neck and shoulder.
Their very nature made them need this, need each other. But maybe there was
something more to this, something more than just a Dom and sub together out of
necessity. It was too early to tell, but as Derek lost himself to the call of
sleep, his boy marked, safe and cared for in his arms, he felt a small spark of
something ignite deep in his belly. Something very much like hope.
===============================================================================
***** Chapter 8 *****
Chapter Notes
     Is it possible to die of shame from not updating in forever?
     I swear, I seem determined to find out. This chapter is once again
     woefully late, and I am so sorry. I struggled with it a good bit, and
     I am still not sure if I am pleased with the end product, but I
     already have started on the next chapter and I have hopes for it to
     come to me easier and to be posted in a more reasonable time frame.
     Wish me luck *fingers crossed*
     Many thanks to all who have taken time to review and/or visit my
     Tumblr. When things get hard for me, you guys help pull me through.
     Leg humps and sloppy kisses for Shelley, for helping me when I was
     having difficulty and putting up with my whining, for Sies for her
     beta skillz and keysmashes that let me know when I did something
     good, for Sam for her encouragement and for listening when I needed
     it, and for Beth for making me pretty things and for being my friend.
     I love you all.
     =====================================================================

          [http://media.tumblr.com/17c30e9fb786cc86aef95644e7f45089/
                      tumblr_muu4huhu1S1rnqi7ro1_400.jpg]
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Stiles stirred and stretched as he slowly transitioned from sleep to
wakefulness. The soft morning light was streaming through the blinds and lit
the bedroom with a pale glow. He couldn't tell how exactly what time it was,
but it had to be early; usually on weekends he slept in until at least noon, so
the sun was higher when he got up. Yet he felt well rested, content, and
surprisingly alert for the earliness of the hour. Derek lay behind him with his
arm snug around his waist, and while part of Stiles didn't want to leave this
spot, ever, he was aware that he needed to pee, and soon. He carefully wriggled
out of Derek's grasp, pausing when his Dom grumbled something in his sleep.
When he was sure he hadn't wakened him by moving around, Stiles slid stealthily
out of the bed and moved quickly in the direction of the bathroom. Eager to
return to his Dom, he quickly took care of his business, washed his hands, and
brushed his teeth. No morning breath for him, no way.
When he returned to the bedroom, Stiles stopped and took a moment to appreciate
the sight before him. Derek had flipped to face the opposite direction and lay
on his side in peaceful repose. Pale light bathed him with a golden glow and
Stiles watched as his shoulders rose and fell with the deep, steady breaths of
sleep. He carefully crawled back into the bed, careful not to disturb Derek. At
some point in time during the night his Dom had kicked the comforter off of him
and when he turned over the sheet had slipped low so that it draped more over
his thighs than actually covering him. Even though the room was cool, Stiles
could feel the warmth radiating from Derek's body. Werewolves, seriously.
Still, Stiles could vaguely remember Derek pulling the covers over them both
last night to cuddle him and keep him warm after their scene, and he couldn't
help the blissful grin that broke out.
Running his eyes over the bare form, Stiles took his time appreciating the raw
masculine beauty of the sleeping wolf next to him. Derek's jawline, even when
relaxed, was strong and dark with stubble that was heavier after another day's
growth. The dark triskelion tattoo stood out in stark contrast between Derek's
shoulder blades, the mystical whorls etched on the surface of his skin by
painful ritual. Stiles wanted to run his lips over it, try to soothe the past
hurts that had led Derek to put himself through the process. Maybe he would
trace it with his tongue instead, see if the skin there was more sensitive. His
Dom's shoulders were broad, his back smooth and muscular, torso tapering down
to his narrow waist where two dimples formed just above the gentle curve of his
ass. He bet his hands would fit them perfectly, or even the heels of his feet
when he had his legs wrapped around Derek's waist.
Stiles felt a warm blush suffusing his face as his gaze traveled further down
to the tight roundness of Derek's ass and wondered what it would feel like in
his hands, flexing under his grasp as his Dom thrust into him again and again.
He shifted as his body began to stir in response to his thoughts and before he
knew it, he was moving forward to curve himself around Derek's body, soaking up
his warmth and shivering slightly as body contact made his cock start to
harden. He wrapped his arm around Derek's waist and ran his hand upward, slowly
rubbing from the tautness of his stomach to the firmness of his pectoral
muscles. Leaning up on his elbow, Stiles watched his hand's movement in
fascination. Derek's cock was soft between muscular thighs and Stiles stared in
unabashed fascination. It was probably creepy to be perving on Derek while he
slept, but Stiles was never one to back away from doing research. After all,
one never knew when they would need to know how many seconds were in a Leap
Year, or that rubber bands last longer if they are refrigerated. Everyone
always did say he was a brilliant student. Focusing on Derek's cock, Stiles
wondered if he dared to stroke Derek to full hardness and what it would be like
to wake his Dom with another blow job. He would need to be sure to ask if Derek
was okay with the idea of alarm via Stiles' mouth on his cock, though, because
while clearly it was an awesome idea in theory, not everyone was comfortable
with the actual act. They hadn't talked about any sort of morning ritual or
anything yet, but Stiles would enthusiastically support whatever involved
getting his mouth on that again.
He might be already developing an addiction to Derek's cock. There were
definitely worse things that could happen. Just thinking about servicing his
Dom made Stiles' heart pound and his cock give a very interested twitch, and he
had to force his hips not to move so he didn't end up dry humping Derek while
he slept. Talk about awkward.
Caught up in his fantasy musings, Stiles didn't realize the cadence of Derek's
breathing had changed and he was blinking into wakefulness, sleepy gaze
sharpening with quiet awareness as he inhaled deeply. He didn't know his Dom
was awake until he spoke.
"See something you like?" Derek asked, his voice husky with sleep and sounding
amused.
Startled at the sudden interruption of his thoughts, Stiles yelped and jerked
back, landing perilously close to the edge of the bed. Derek twisted to grab
him, his hand gentle and steady as he pulled Stiles back to him.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to wake you," apologized Stiles, heart still racing
as Derek began rubbing his cheek against his neck.
"It's okay. I heard your heartbeat speed up," Derek explained as he licked a
slow stripe up Stiles' neck and smirking when he shivered. "I like that you
were touching me. You didn't have to stop."
Stiles couldn't help grinning at that. Now that Derek was awake and had pretty
much said he didn't feel violated by Stiles practically feeling him up while he
slept, his hands began exploring with more purpose. He placed both hands on
Derek's cheeks and felt the growth of beard there. His neck tingled where Derek
had rubbed his face against it and he enjoyed the raspy prickle against his
palms. Gathering his courage together, he leaned forward and rubbed his nose
against Derek's before tentatively pressing their lips together. A pleased
noise sounded low from Derek's throat and his grasp tightened for a moment
before he broke the kiss and pushed himself away to slide back a bit, breathing
a little heavier than before. Stiles couldn't keep the whine of protest from
escaping, and Derek groaned softly before pressing his forehead against
Stiles'.
"We need to go to your father's house and get you packed and moved in," Derek
said, the struggle evident in his eyes.
"Right now?" Stiles asked dubiously. He had a much better idea, one that
involved the two of them staying exactly where they were and ended in mutually
awesome orgasms, maybe breakfast somewhere along the way to refuel before going
for round two, or maybe even three. Getting his things from his Dad's wasn't
that urgent, was it? "Trust me. My dad will understand why we aren't there at
the asscrack of dawn the day after our claim," he said coaxingly as he ran an
exploratory finger down to tease at Derek's navel.
"I know that," Derek replied as he firmly grabbed Stiles' hand to halt its
teasing and willfully ignored the ensuing pout from his submissive, "but I want
to get it over and done with. I'll feel more settled knowing you are here and
have all your things moved in. The sooner we get to it the sooner we are
finished and don't have to worry about it. Besides," his voice lowered darkly
and carried a definite tone of promise, "I have plans for you that don't
involve leaving this house once we get started."
Stiles opened his mouth to say he didn't actually need anything from his Dad's
just yet, but when he felt Derek's hand slide down his belly to dip lower and
drag his fingers teasingly along his cock, it snapped shut again. Any ability
to form words was completely lost and all he could manage was a garbled
"Hhnnnhhhhh."
"Were you going to say something?" Derek asked, the smirk obvious in his voice
as he lightly teased Stiles' balls before moving down and back further to brush
feather light across his hole. "Argue with me, perhaps?"
Shaking his head, Stiles choked on his sudden intake of air and his hands
grabbed at Derek's shoulders, fingers digging in as his blood pounded
rhythmically through his body to pool at his groin. "I...I..." he stammered,
unable to put together a coherent thought as his Dom's fingers returned to his
now rock hard cock to tap rapidly around the head in a fluttering move that was
undoubtedly intended to drive him out of his mind and was clearly succeeding
immensely.
"It would please me to have your things moved in," Derek said silkily, and
whoa, unfair because he obviously already knew just what to say to get to
Stiles, because Stiles wanted more than anything to please his Dom in every way
he could. "All your things here so you don't need for anything, and your
clothes will start to smell like mine. That will please me immensely." He
hadn't stopped his featherlight movements on Stiles' cock this entire time and
between his Dom's talented fingers and the things he was saying, Stiles was
starting to wonder how much he was going to be able to take. His balls were
starting to grow heavy with that telltale sensation, and as much as he hated to
bring things to a screeching halt, if he didn't say something fast he was going
to come without permission. Hello, disaster!
"I need you to stop!" Stiles blurted out. He was both relieved and regretful
when Derek froze and yanked his hand away from his cock with a slightly
panicked look as if he'd been burned. Not wanting Derek to get the wrong idea,
Stiles hurried to explain. "It felt so good, too good. I was afraid I was gonna
come and you haven't said I could."
Derek blinked twice and then the edges of his mouth lifted in a half smile as
relieved understanding filled his eyes. "I see. Thank you for telling me. Such
a good boy."
Stiles shuddered as the warm praise of his Dom flowed over him, surprisingly
just as satisfying as the teasing touch had been. He would never have believed
that before; even when Scott has spoken of how pleasing his Domme took
precedence over his own pleasure every time and that her praise was better than
actually coming himself, Stiles hadn't quite believed it. No way words could be
greater than or equal to a mind melting orgasm. Huh. Well, never let it be said
that Stiles Stilinski wasn't open minded and willing to change his belief
system when the occasion called for it. He found that pleasing his Dom had
become one of his top priorities in life and not even a single regret could be
found.
Speaking of pleasing his Dom...
"Derek? Sir? Can I-that is, I'd really like it if you'd let me make you come,"
Stiles said, pleased that although his voice was somewhat breathy, it was
steady rather than a gasping croak.
Derek's eyes darkened and he let go of Stiles to sit up. He took Stiles' cuffed
wrist and pressed a kiss to it before unbuckling the cuff and taking it off,
and Stiles made a noise of confused protest that Derek silenced with another
kiss to his now-bare wrist. "Go start the shower," he instructed over his
shoulder as he turned and rose from the bed, placing the cuff on his nightstand
and removing his own to place next to it. "I'll join you shortly." He turned
around and the only word Stiles could think of to describe the gaze Derek raked
over him was hungry, traveling from his undoubtedly bed-tousled hair down to
his hard cock and back up again. "You know the rules." His eyes flashed blue
and Stiles shivered in response as he moved quickly to obey. His cock seemed to
throb harder and he smiled to himself wryly as he thought of how ironic it was
that for a submissive known for having issues with authority, it seemed he
maybe had a thing for displays of power. It was a turn on that his Dom was so
strong and capable of supernatural acts of power, yet had been so incredibly
gentle in taking care of him last night. If he wasn't careful, Stiles would end
up ruined for any other Dom ever.
But he didn't want to think of that right now.
What he did want to think of was obeying his Dom and maybe earning the chance
to blow him in the shower. Stiles scampered to the bathroom and opened the
glass door. Remembering the hot water came out already heated, he carefully
started the shower. He adjusted the dials until he got it to the perfect
temperature; nice and hot, thank you very much, and hoped Derek wouldn't mind.
If he did, they could adjust it when his Dom joined him. Not wanting to waste
any time, he jumped in and made fast work of wetting his hair and massaging
shampoo through it. Once he rinsed and was in no danger of getting soap in his
eyes, Stiles reached for his body wash. His hand hesitated for a moment as he
considered whether he should use Derek's body wash or his own, then remembering
his Dom's comments about liking for him to smell like himself, he grabbed
Derek's body wash and began soaping himself up. The heavy spray of water was
loud in his ears and he missed the soft sound of the door opening behind him.
Even though he was still hard, Stiles found that he didn't have the slightest
urge to stroke himself, not even just to take the edge off. Shower time had
been a staple of Stiles Time ever since he'd discovered how much easier his
hand moved over slick skin, and normally he wouldn't have even hesitated to
take himself in hand. The fact that he wasn't remotely tempted to pleasure
himself even just a little was testimony to how receptive his submission
already was to Derek. As he ran his soapy hands over his ass and daringly slid
one curious finger across his hole, though, he couldn't stop the hard spike of
arousal low in his belly. He moaned softly and hoped his Dom would hurry to
join him.
===============================================================================
Derek prowled around his room restlessly, determined to give Stiles a few
moments of privacy before joining him. His submissive hadn't made it easy for
him, waking him up with touches that were all the more seductive for their
innocence. Stiles' heart had been pounding and the air was thick with the spicy
scent of arousal. Derek had been consciously aware of the heat of Stiles'
hardness behind him and the effort it cost his boy not to rub against him. He
was impressed with the amount of control Stiles was already showing; a
submissive in their first claim usually struggled with their urges and had to
be taught to master them. It was just one more thing that made Stiles stand out
from other submissives.
It certainly wreaked havoc on Derek's intentions to move slowly and train
Stiles in steps, rather than all at once. He had never been with a virgin
submissive before; the Sub Clubs he went to only hired experienced submissives,
although it was known that some of the shadier clubs out there would charge a
hefty premium price for a sub's first time. He had never been interested
before, but knowing he was giving Stiles all his firsts made his wolf want to
howl in satisfaction. Plenty of Dominants would have already fucked their
submissive, especially one that was so eager, but Derek felt that Stiles
deserved better. He deserved to experience things of a sexual nature at a pace
designed to teach and titillate, rather than lose his virginity and then learn
other things, all because his Dom wasn't patient enough to teach him the
pleasures of the slow build. Derek didn't want Stiles to regret anything about
their time together, but he especially didn't want him to regret his first
time.
Not like he did.
His first time had been in the back seat of Kate's car behind the Beacon Hills
High cafeteria after hours ("It's the perfect place, no one ever goes back
there and there's no security at all. We won't be disturbed...") and had been
little more than a sloppy hand job to get him hard before Kate had been
instructing him on what to do ("Come on, Derek, harder than that, I want to
actually feel it...") and at the time he had been so nervous and excited and
caught up in the illicitness of the whole affair with the pretty substitute
teacher who wanted him to be her Dom even though she had experience and he
wasn't even tattooed yet ("You already know you're a Dom, right? All the tattoo
does is make it official, and I don't need that for you to dominate me...")
that after fumbling with the condom and finally getting it on, he had only
lasted minutes, pumping between her thighs in a few quick, short thrusts before
coming ("Well, maybe next time you can do better..."). Everything about it had
been wrong. To this day Derek couldn't think of it without revulsion and shame
and the utter humiliation that he hadn't recognized there was not a submissive
bone in her body.
His first time had been stolen from him, and Derek was determined that when he
and Stiles finally took that step it was something Stiles would be able to look
back on with fondness and pleasure. The added benefit of teasing his sub and
making him beg along the way was simply a bonus for Derek. Happily resolved in
his plans, he went to join Stiles in the shower. The sound of water running and
hands moving over slick skin had been teasing at his sensitive hearing the
entire time, and the erection that had softened at remembering Kate came back
in full force. Padding across the room, he quietly opened the door to the
bathroom.
And nearly fell to his knees.
The air was thick with warm steam that was heavy with the scent of Stiles. It
was mixed in with the spicy aroma of arousal that was made even more potent in
the trapped confines of the heated room, and Derek was sure he was salivating.
To his pleasure, he recognized the scent of his own body wash and realized
Stiles must be using it. He stood silently for a moment, watching Stiles
through the clear glass as he stood under the heavy spray of water. His
submissive was beautiful to look at, lean and muscular, and Derek took his time
running his appreciative gaze over the bare skin on display. Stiles was wet and
flushed pink from the heat, and his soapy hands ran smoothly over his body as
he bathed. Derek heard the quick intake of breath as Stiles ran his hands over
his chest and remembered how sensitive those nipples had been the night before
and how he had teased them.
God.
Stiles continued to wash, oblivious to the presence of his Dom, and Derek felt
a rush of heady pleasure at watching his submissive perform his ablutions.
Voyeurism had never been his thing before, but clearly it had serious
potential. There was no scent of come in the heated air and even though he
faced away from him, Derek instinctively knew Stiles had obeyed and not touched
himself. While he watched in fascination, Stiles ran his soapy hands over the
curves of his ass. When Stiles dipped a finger between the cheeks to rub across
his hole, his soft moan went straight to Derek's cock, and he had to swallow
his responding groan. Blood pulsed hot and heavy through his veins and he
decided he had deprived himself of his submissive long enough.
"Mind if I join you?" he asked mischievously as he tapped gently on the glass
door.
To Derek's amusement, Stiles squawked in surprise and turned around so fast he
was hit full in the face by a jet of water streaming from one of the shower
heads. He stepped back and hurriedly rubbed the water from his face. "Yeah,
sure! Of course!" he babbled as he pushed the door open to allow Derek entry.
"How long have you been here?"
"Long enough to enjoy the view," Derek smirked as he wrapped his arms around
his boy and pulled him close, noting with approval that Stiles was still hard.
"Mmmmmm, you smell good," he purred low in Stiles' ear before licking up his
neck. The shiver he got in response delighted him and he added, "You taste even
better."
"I used your body wash. I hope that's okay," Stiles said, sounding a little
nervous. Derek smiled and hummed his approval as he leaned back under the spray
to wet his hair and body down. He ran his hands musingly over his beard and
wondered if he wanted to take the time to trim it today or put it off until
another time. He liked the sensation of rubbing it against Stiles' skin and
seeing the marks it left behind gave him a sense of keen satisfaction, so he
wouldn't be shaving it off altogether, but since they were going to the
Sheriff's house today it might be best to at least neaten it up just a little.
Grabbing his shampoo, he massaged a small amount into his beard before
shampooing his hair. When he was finished, he backed under the spray to rinse
all the soap thoroughly so as not to dry out his skin.
Stepping out from under the shower heads, Derek shook himself to clear the
water from his eyes and heard Stiles chuckling in amusement. He cracked open
one eye to shoot his boy a mock stern glare.
"I better not hear the first dog joke, Stiles, or I swear you'll spend the rest
of this shower on your knees in the corner facing the wall," Derek threatened
with a smirk, and even if it wasn't obvious to Stiles that he was only playing
with him, his words lost some of their impact when water ran into his mouth
while he talked and he had to spit to blow it out.
Stiles looked unintimidated and completely unrepentant. "Whatever, it gives you
an excuse to stare at my ass," he said with a sunny grin.
Derek straightened his shoulders and lifted his chin so that he appeared to
look down at Stiles, even with their similar height. "I'll have you know that
if that's what I want to do, I don't need an excuse, I can just make it
happen," he retorted. When he reached for the shelf where his body wash
normally was, it wasn't there. Turning back to look at Stiles, he raised an
eyebrow as his submissive held up the bottle, looking almost shy.
"I wondered if maybe you'd let me bathe you," Stiles explained hopefully,
biting his lower lip in the way he had that seemed guaranteed to melt away some
of Derek's brain cells.
"I see," Derek said, studying Stiles closely. "Want to take care of me?" he
asked, feeling both pleased and even more turned on.
Stiles inhaled and nodded vigorously. The movement loosened drops of water from
his hair, and Derek found himself captivated by the sight of Stiles' honey eyes
framed by wet lashes. It seemed to make them stand out even more than normal
and he breathlessly wondered if it was possible to drown without being
underwater.
"Do you think I should let you?" Derek asked, hoping to buy himself some time
to refocus on the conversation at hand instead of the incredible need to hustle
Stiles back to his bed and not leave it for the foreseeable future.
Stiles grinned impishly. "Well, I've been good this morning," he pointed out.
"I haven't touched myself except to wash."
Derek gave him an amused smirk. "Such sass," he observed. "You think you
deserve a reward for doing as I told you?"
"Well, no. Actually, I was hoping that you'd let me bathe you and that if I did
a good job maybe you'd let me blow you again before we went to my dad's,"
Stiles answered, voice soft under the rushing water but still audible to
Derek's ears. As if Stiles' words weren't enticing enough, he ducked his head
and looked up at Derek through those wet lashes.
Christ. This boy was going to kill him.
Derek thought quickly. It was good that Stiles was already telling him what he
wanted and giving him some insight to what he liked. It was a relief, actually,
to know that Stiles seemed to like giving blow jobs. He had done so incredibly
well last night, especially for his first time, and Derek wasn't ashamed to
admit to himself that he had a serious fixation for his submissive's mouth. If
Stiles hadn't liked performing oral sex, Derek would have done without, but a
part of him would have mourned the loss. That Stiles was already wanting to
perform a service for him to earn the reward of sucking his cock was enough to
make Derek even harder, and he decided he'd better say something quickly so
they could get started. It would be an incredibly erotic tease to have his boy
rubbing his hands all over his wet body to build up towards a blow job. Derek
couldn't remember when he'd felt so eager. He had heard of erotic bathing but
had never done it before. There wasn't time for it today, but he was suddenly
appreciative of Peter's insistence on installing a hot water tank that would
allow for lengthy showers without the water running cold. He could see many
lengthy showers with his submissive in their future.
Nodding his head, Derek said, "Okay. My only rule for this is I want your
hands, no washcloth or loofah this time. We are under a bit of a time crunch
today, so while I want you to do a good job, I want it done in a timely
fashion. I promise you that in the future we will make time for proper showers
together where we take care of each other. Does that sound good?"
Stiles popped the cap on the body wash and poured some into his hand. "Sounds
great. Maybe you'll let me shampoo your hair and beard next time, too?"
Derek liked the idea of those capable looking fingers running through his hair
and over his face. "Maybe I'll indulge you," he said as he watched Stiles rub
his hands together to coat them both with soap. Stiles stepped closer to him
and placed his hands on Derek's shoulders, rubbing at them firmly before
sliding down his arms. He linked their fingers for a brief moment before using
his thumbs to briefly massage at Derek's hands and then moving back up along
the more tender skin of his inner arms.
"Can you raise your arms a minute?" asked Stiles, his voice sounding a bit more
hoarse than usual. Derek complied by placing his hands on the back of his neck.
He managed not to flinch when Stiles began soaping his armpits, but to his
chagrin a snort escaped him. Stiles' eyes lit up and he laughed, "Looks like
I'm not the only one who's ticklish!"
Derek did his best to look stern, no easy feat as Stiles ran his hands down his
sides and along his rib cage. "Don't make me jerk off in the shower instead of
letting you have your way, Stiles," he groused, and nearly regretted it as
Stiles poked his lush lower lip out in a pout.
"But sir, aren't I doing a good job?" Stiles cajoled as he reached around to
rub his soapy hands up Derek's back, bringing their bodies closer together.
Their cocks slid against each other and they both hissed at the contact.
Derek tried to frown but found he couldn't. Instead he placed his hands on
Stiles' hips and leaned forward to give him a quick smacking kiss on the lips.
"You are a menace," he grumbled, even though his voice held a tone of
amusement. "Finish up so I can put that mouth to a much better use than sassing
me."
Stiles caught his breath and nodded. He made quick work of bathing Derek's back
and shoulders, commenting, "I should probably have you turn around for this but
I kind of like where I am right now."
Derek silently agreed. Every move Stiles made caused them to rub against each
other, and Derek felt like most of the blood in his body had rushed south to
gather at his groin. When Stiles stepped back away from him, it took all the
control Derek had not to pull him back again, but then Stiles dropped
gracefully to his knees. Derek adjusted his stance a bit wider, and Stiles made
quick work of bathing his legs, massaging at his thighs and calves. His hands
slid up along the back of Derek's thighs to somewhat hesitantly cup his ass
before kneading it. Although Stiles was tentative and not yet skilled, his
touch affected Derek in a way that held promise for future endeavors.
Finally, all that was left of Derek to be bathed was his aching cock, and he
managed not to growl when Stiles took it in one hand and slid his slippery
grasp along the full length while the other hand reached down to cup his balls.
The mixture of innocence and allure was incredibly heady, and combined with the
heavy scent of arousal pouring off his boy, it was nearly intoxicating.
"It's interesting, how doing this to someone else instead of yourself is
exactly the same yet incredibly different," Stiles observed, panting softly but
managing to sound for all the world like he was commenting on a class rather
than slowly driving his Dom out of his mind. Derek grit his teeth as Stiles bit
his lower lip in concentration; he wanted to bite that lip. His fingertips
tingled as his claws threatened to pop out, and Derek decided enough was
enough. If Stiles could affect him like this already, then god help him as he
gained in confidence and knowledge. Derek let Stiles work him with his hands,
getting him closer to the edge until he knew he needed to stop if he was going
to let Stiles blow him.
"I'm going to rinse this soap off," Derek told Stiles calmly, belying the fact
that he was this close to having to talk around fangs. "You've done well, so
I'm going to reward you like you asked. I think I'd really like to do this in
the shower, what do you think? Are your knees okay? What's your color?"
Stiles' pupils had dilated slightly as Derek talked, and he nodded his head
enthusiastically. "Yeah, I'm cool with all that. Green, definitely green."
"Good," said Derek as he moved back into the shower spray to remove all the
soap from his body. Inspiration struck him, and he gave his boy a slow smile.
"And what else, Stiles? You've been so good, would you like to come?"
"Oh, god," Stiles groaned, briefly closing his eyes before looking up at Derek
entreatingly. "I'm not gonna be able to hold off if you say things like that."
"Then don't," Derek said as he continued to rinse. "Touch yourself. Make
yourself come. I want to watch."
"Derek," Stiles moaned, cheeks turning a darker red, but his hand was already
starting to stroke along his own hardness, thumb sliding along the head before
moving down then up again to repeat the movement. Derek watched closely to see
how Stiles pleasured himself, mentally filing away things such as how his fist
would tighten and release and how he paid particular attention to the underside
and head. He stood under the shower silently, his own excitement growing as the
smells of Stiles and arousal threatened to overwhelm him.
Stiles shuddered and bowed his head. "Please, Derek, I can't last any longer,"
he pleaded as his hand moved faster. "Can I come? Please?"
Derek hadn't known until now that making his submissive beg might become one of
his favorite things, but as sweetly seductive as those words were falling from
those pretty lips, this was supposed to be part of a reward for Stiles. There
would be time in the future for prolonged begging and denial. "Come whenever
you're ready, Stiles. I want your mouth."
With a moan, Stiles closed his eyes and moved his hand faster. With just a few
jerks he was coming over his own fist, stripes of come washing away and down
the drain. He knelt there, breathing hard, cheeks flushed and lips bitten red,
water beaded on his body. The sight and smell was overwhelmingly intoxicating.
Just when Derek thought he couldn't be more beautiful, Stiles opened his eyes
to look up at him from under thick eyelashes dotted with drops of water.
"Did I do good?" Stiles asked, body still shaking with the aftershocks of
orgasm.
Derek reached down to cup his cheek, rubbing his thumb along the lower lip.
"You did so good, Stiles. Such a good boy," he praised, pleased when Stiles'
eyes lit up with a proud smile. He stepped forward, taking his aching cock in
his other hand. "Are you ready for me now?" Stiles nodded, and Derek managed to
stifle his groan when his boy parted those lush lips, opening his mouth
enticingly. He teasingly rubbed the head of his cock around his submissive's
perfect mouth before pushing in.
Derek shuddered as Stiles immediately began moving his mouth up and down, the
wet heat of his mouth so different from that of the shower they still stood in.
He seemed to be trying to take Derek further than he had last night, pushing
forward and then pulling back to circle around his foreskin with a tongue that
was showing talent far beyond this being only the second blow job Stiles had
ever given. Each bob of his head was different, his movements having no real
rhythm. He would barely take the entire head of Derek's cock in his mouth one
moment, then push deep enough to nearly gag himself the next. It was
unpredictable and mindblowingly good. It took most of Derek's self control not
to grab Stiles and push his cock deeper into his mouth until he could feel his
boy's throat constricting around him. Stiles moaned softly, the vibrations
going straight through Derek's dick and traveling until his fingertips tingled
and his toes curled. A sudden feral need hit him low in his solar plexus, and
he felt his wolf very close to the surface, howling at him to do what needed to
be done.
With a low growl, Derek stepped back, pulling his cock out of Stiles' mouth
with a sudden jerk. "It's okay," he breathlessly reassured his visibly startled
submissive. "I'm sorry, I have-I just need to-just hold still, okay?" he
stuttered. Stiles nodded, still looking unsure, but Derek was too close to the
edge. He wrapped his fist around his cock and started jerking himself off with
a practiced hand. Knowing Stiles was probably confused, he hastened to explain,
"You were so good for me, felt so good, Stiles. I want to come on your face.
Will you let me?"
Stiles eyes filled with understanding and a sudden eagerness that had Derek
biting down on another growl. "Okay, yeah, that's-that's awesome. Do you want
me to open my mouth or close my eyes or what do you want me to do?"
Jesus. Derek wondered, not for the first time, how he was going to make it
through this claim alive. His hand moved faster as he pushed himself towards
his orgasm. "Just stay right there as you are. On your knees looking at me.
I'll tell you what to do." Stiles nodded, his eyes focusing on Derek's cock
before traveling up to his face. They stared at each other, eyes locked, both
of them panting.
Derek felt the pressure building up in his balls and knew he was about to come.
He stepped closer to Stiles and said, "Close your eyes." Stiles obeyed
immediately, and Derek felt every muscle tense as he felt himself approaching
the edge. With a tightening of his fist and a slight twist of his wrist, Derek
finally let himself go. His cock jerked in his hand as he painted Stiles' face
with his come, white stripes splashing across his cheeks and nose.
Derek stood there panting hard as though he had run for miles. The running
water of the shower seemed magnified in his ears, rushing through as loudly as
a fast flowing rapids. He stared at Stiles, marveling at the heady rush of
primal satisfaction that came with seeing his boy marked so thoroughly. So
pretty, covered in my come like that.Stiles blinked slowly a couple of times as
though to make sure Derek was finished and that he wasn't about to have come in
his eyes.
"Wow," Stiles marveled in a near whisper. "That was...intense."
Derek chuckled weakly. "You have no idea," he murmured as he used one thumb to
rub a bit of his come into Stiles' skin. His wolf, satisfied with marking what
belonged to him so thoroughly, rumbled its happy approval. Derek made a low
growl of approval of his own when Stiles took Derek's thumb into his mouth and
eagerly sucked the come off.
"You are something else," Derek said as he offered Stiles a hand to help him up
off his knees. Stiles stumbled a little as he regained his footing and the
pattern of the stone shower floor was marked on his skin. Derek resolved to
look into getting a mat or something that would make kneeling in the shower
more comfortable, because he could see this becoming a thing for them. "Are you
okay?" he asked with concern.
"Yeah, I'm cool. Just gotta get my land legs back again," Stiles joked. His
face was still streaked with Derek's come, and as much as he liked the look of
it, Derek wasn't about to take Stiles to see his father like that.
"Come on, let's rinse you off one last time and we need to get moving," Derek
said as he pulled Stiles to him and stepped back so they were both under the
spray again.
"How is this water even still hot?" asked Stiles as he closed his eyes and
tilted his head back to rinse his face. "Is this house built over a hot spring
or something? Don't tell me; you have a dragon living in the basement that does
nothing but keep the water hot."
Derek smirked in amusement as he turned the water off and opened the shower
door to step out. "Close," he said as he quickly wrapped a towel around his
waist and grabbed another for Stiles. "I have a self-indulgent uncle who wants
nothing but the best luxuries and has the financial means to have them." He
wrapped the towel around Stiles and dried him off tenderly but thoroughly.
"Now, go get dressed. We need to get to your dad's so we have time to get you
packed and moved over here. I'd like to get it done in one day if we can."
"I bet Scott would be glad to come over and help," offered Stiles brightly as
he walked out of the bathroom and over to the dresser to get clean underwear
and socks. "I helped him pack and move when he first got claimed, so he'd
probably be willing to return the favor. Plus I think he'd like to meet you, if
that's okay."
Derek thought about it for a moment. So early in their claim, his Dom instincts
were already rebelling against leaving his bedroom at all, but having Stiles
moved in and settled with him would actually ease that. His wolf would be
satisfied with having his boy in his den, further marking Stiles as his. With
all these instincts so close to the surface right now, he wasn't sure how wise
it would be to have Stiles in the presence of another werewolf, even if that
wolf was a submissive and obviously no threat to him. It would be difficult
enough even being around another dominant, even if that dominant was Stiles'
father.
"I don't know. It might be better to save that for another time," Derek said.
When a look of disappointment crossed Stiles' face, Derek sighed. "Let's get
over there and see if we need more than just you, me and your dad to do this,"
he relented. "If we need the help then we'll call Scott. If we don't, I'll call
his Domme and maybe we can set up a play date or something." His heart clenched
when Stiles grinned happily, like sunshine coming out from behind a cloud.
He really and truly was so screwed it was almost scary.
"That would be so awesome, Derek! I think you'll like his Domme, she's pretty
and smart but also a complete badass when she has to be. Her family didn't
really want her claiming Scott since he's a werewolf, but she wouldn't back
down, and the rest is history," Stiles said, frowning slightly in remembrance.
A strange uneasy feeling nagged at the base of Derek's neck. Why was there a
problem with her claiming a werewolf? That usually wasn't a problem, unless...
Was she from a family of hunters?
"I take it everything worked out for them," Derek said, hoping he sounded
casual. "What's her name?" Stiles next words washed over him like icy water:
"Allison Argent."
Derek felt for the wall to support him as the room threatened to close in on
him. It couldn't be."I'm sorry, what did you say?" he asked in a deadly quiet
voice.
Stiles was wriggling into his jeans and looked up in surprise at Derek's tone.
"Her name's Allison. Allison Arge-oh, shit!" he cut off with an abrupt gasp,
face blanching pale and horror filling his eyes as he realized what he was
saying. Derek shakily crossed the room to the bed and sat down. He felt as
though all the air had been punched out of him. Dimly, he was aware of Stiles
falling to his knees next to him, babbling an apology. Taking a deep breath, he
placed a hand on his submissive's shoulder, causing him to fall silent.
"Finish getting dressed and go downstairs," Derek said quietly. "Fix you
something for breakfast. I'll be down soon, okay? Here, don't forget this," he
added as he reached out and grabbed Stiles' cuff off the nightstand. Taking
Stiles' hand in his own and wincing when he felt it quivering in his grasp,
Derek quickly buckled the cuff in place and rubbed the soft leather with his
thumb. He gave Stiles a soft kiss on the cheek and motioned towards the
dresser. "Move quickly now."
Derek watched silently as Stiles finished dressing. His boy was obviously
agitated and shaken up, and Derek grimly promised himself that he would
reassure Stiles when he got downstairs, but there was something he had to do
first. Stiles hesitantly looked back at him as he opened the door, seeming
reluctant to leave him. Derek pulled on his briefs and rifled around to find
old jeans and a shirt he wouldn't mind getting ruined while moving. He motioned
to the open doorway with his head. "Go," he said, not unkindly. "I'll just be a
few minutes."
"Do you want me to fix you something to eat as well?" asked Stiles hopefully,
face falling when Derek shook his head.
"I'll be fine. Please, Stiles, don't make me tell you again," Derek said,
turning his back to pull his jeans up over his hips. He winced when Stiles
sighed unhappily and shut the door softly behind him. Damn it.This wasn't how
he wanted their first morning to be. Everything had been going so well. A sharp
burst of frustrated anger swelled up in his chest, threatening to bring his
wolf to the surface, and with a growl he grabbed his phone off the desk.
Seething, he hit Laura's number and tapped his fingers agitatedly on the desk
waiting for her to answer.
"Derek? What's wrong?"Laura answered, sounding concerned.
"When the hell were you going to tell me?" Derek snarled without preamble.
===============================================================================
***** Chapter 9 *****
Chapter Notes
     Greetings and salutations!
      
      
      
     Long time, no see, right? How I have missed this story and missed all
     of you. It's so good to be back. Life was super crazy for a while:
     since I last updated I have moved (packing and unpacking, ugh just
     kill me), lost my grandmother after a long illness, and dealt with
     some health issues. Yikes and away.
      
     I want to first of all thank each person who took time to review,
     leave me a word of encouragement, or just let me know they were
     excited for this story and looking forward to it being updated,
     either here or on my tumblr. While it has taken far too long, I have
     finally managed to put together something that I am pleased with.
     There aren't enough words to say how sorry I am that this took so
     long. I hope that you all enjoy this chapter.
      
     Love and sloppy kisses to Beth for the gorgeous graphic, as well as
     doing me the honor of beta-ing this chapter! Any mistakes are my own,
     as I can't leave things alone and have to mess with it more...

          [http://media.tumblr.com/48e40c54f111850dc92594fa258dee96/
                     tumblr_inline_n26b4dSW7l1r5h1dy.jpg]
===============================================================================
Laura paused for a moment before cautiously asking, "When was I going to tell
you what?"
"Oh, come on, Laura," Derek scoffed. "Don't play dumb with me. Why didn't you
or Peter tell me there was an Argent in the academy that, oh by the way,
happens to be the dominant of my submissive's best friend? When did they come
back?"
"Damn it,"he heard Laura swear under her breath. "It just seemed better not to
tell you just yet, Derek. We were going to tell you when we got back, though, I
swear. You seemed so pleased to be back and were doing so well–"
"Of course I was!" snarled Derek in exasperation. "That's because I didn't know
the family that ruined my life was lurking around just waiting for me to let my
guard down so they can finish what they started!"
"You don't actually believe that, do you?" Laura asked, sounding shocked. She
angrily continued before Derek could answer, "Chris has publicly decried Kate
and distanced himself from Gerard. Allison is a sweet and lovely girl, a good
student and a good Domme. Chris and Victoria were reluctant for her to claim a
werewolf, given the family's past history. They were worried about public
perception, and rightfully so. Because they were worried about how Allison
might be viewed, claiming a werewolf when her aunt was serving time for
murdering the Alpha's family, they tried to dissuade her; but she was
determined to have Scott, and they are very happily claimed. Peter and Chris
spent a lot of time discussing the claim, if it would be a detriment or
benefit. They decided together that letting Allison and Scott get claimed would
go a long way to showing that not all hunters are like Kate, the Argents in
particular."
Derek rolled his eyes and laughed harshly. "So big of them, deigning to take a
wolf in their home. I'm sure they sleep just fine at night with a perfectly
clear conscience, not a worry in the world, while our family was trapped and
burned to death by one of them! Should I watch my back now? How am I supposed
to let Stiles anywhere near them when I have absolutely no desire to be in the
presence of murderers?"
"Derek," Laura said softly, "You have to understand, Allison isn't Kate. Chris
nearly didn't enroll her in the academy to begin with, but Peter talked him
into it. Trying to mend bridges and show solidarity."
"Oh, of course," Derek snorted in derision. "After all, he isTHE Alpha now.
Gotta look good for the public. It's all politics where he's concerned."
"That's unfair and you know it," argued Laura. "As the Alpha he has to look at
the big picture and consider all sides for the better benefit of all. He can't
let personal feelings interfere. He hasn't forgotten any of what happened. Mom
was his sister. He and Aunt Emmy were mate bonded, and she was pregnant. If you
think for even one minute that he doesn't live with that loss everyday, you are
wrong."
Derek rubbed a hand over his face and sighed. "I know that," he said. "I just
wish you had said something to me first. I should have been informed."
"I see that now," answered Laura apologetically. "I guess maybe in our defense,
we wanted to protect you as long as we could. Be honest, would you have come
back from New York if you'd known?" When Derek didn't answer, his silence
telling, she sighed sadly. "I didn't think so. Please believe me, though, when
I tell you we did what we thought was best. For all of us." She sighed again.
"It would've been nice for you to get to enjoy your new claim for at least a
little while before getting news of that nature. How did you find out, anyway?"
"Stiles let it slip," Derek said wryly. "We were getting ready to go to his
Dad's house to pack his things to move, and he offered his friend's services. I
was a bit leery of having him around another wolf right now, even a submissive
one, so I mentioned a play date instead." He huffed out a deep breath. "He
looked so horrified when he realized what he'd said."
Laura made a soft noise of sympathy. "Oh, the poor thing. I wasn't sure if he
knew or even remembered, he would have been so young when it happened. It was
kept pretty hush hush at the school so as to protect Allison, but I'm sure
anyone who wanted to know could find out, and Stiles is definitely a curious
one. He must be absolutely heartbroken right now, thinking he's upset or
disappointed you, and then hearing you yelling at me. I hope you didn't punish
him."
"Of course I didn't punish him; he hasn't done anything wrong. I sent him
downstairs to breakfast before I called. There was no need for him to hear all
this," Derek answered, rubbing absently at his chest. It had been aching
slightly since he called Laura. He attributed it to his hurt anger.
"You did what?" Laura asked sharply.
Derek sat up straighter at her tone. "I sent him downstairs. He was already
discomfited enough without listening to me yell at you. What's wrong, Lola?
What aren't you telling me?"
"Derek, you have to get to him! Stiles has panic attacks, he could be in
trouble right now," Laura said, her voice bordering on frantic. "I thought he
was there with you, but if he's alone and upset he could very easily have an
episode. He'll need your help."
"Shit,"swore Derek as he leapt to his feet. "This isn't over, Laura. You, Peter
and I will be having a long talk when you get home tomorrow, but my submissive
needs me right now. I'll talk to you later." He hung up without waiting for her
to answer and hurried for the door. Because of the special arrangement of their
claim, Derek hadn't had the time to study Stiles' file to learn about medical
history or needs. While Maks had said Stiles took medication for ADD, panic
attacks hadn't been mentioned. Derek resolved to spend some time with Maks
getting all the pertinent information he needed to know and putting it on file
in his phone for future reference. He had dealt with anxiety in a submissive
before, but this was far different, and he felt the cold edge of fear as he
rushed down the stairs in search of his boy.
===============================================================================
Stiles stumbled slightly as he entered the kitchen. Making his way to the
table, he quickly sat down. His knees felt like jelly, and it had nothing to do
with the time he had recently spent on them. He couldn't believe he'd been so
careless, so stupid. Of all things to do, to blithely suggest Derek meet with
one of the Argents, even if Allison and her parents hadn't been involved in the
tragedy. From the stunned look on Derek's face, he hadn't known Chris and
Victoria had returned to Beacon Hills.
Though it was common knowledge that the Hales had been victims of a murderous
hunter, most of the students that had lived in Beacon Hills at the time had
been young enough to have forgotten the connection between the Hale and Argent
families. Peter was a powerful Alpha, and out of respect and deference to him,
any gossip was kept quiet and behind closed doors. Never one to let idle
curiosity get the better of him, though, Stiles had gone to the library after
seeing Derek for the first time at school. Hearing Lydia's story of the Hale
family tragedy had struck a chord in him even before he knew he would actually
be connected to the family. Who wouldn't be swayed by local scandal? Especially
when presented with a Byronic hero such as Derek Hale. Mysterious, brooding,
tortured by his past, and gifted with sensual good looks that had led to
downfall. Seriously, Stiles defied any of the authors he'd studied in lit class
to write any better. Eat your heart out, Mr. Rochester.
Explaining his presence as a need to research for an upcoming paper to the wary
librarian, who obviously hadn't forgotten the circumcision essay debacle,
Stiles sequestered himself at one of the work areas towards the back where he
wasn't likely to be disturbed. Even though the police files would have been
even better, he had figured he would be able to sneak in his dad's file room at
another time and read them. Google, however, was his friend, and he went to
work. It didn't take long for him to strike pay dirt. The fire had been a huge
media storm, even making the national level.
Massive Fire Rips Through Hale Home
Prominent Werewolf Family Struck By Tragedy As Four Alarm Blaze Kills 8
Respected Alpha Talia Hale Among Victims Of Deadly Disaster
Grim Discovery: Werewolf Family Escape Would Have Been Impossible
"No Accident." Investigators Say Hale Fire Was Deliberate, Mountain Ash Barrier
Kept Family Trapped. Incident Now Classified As Hate Crime.
California Governor Condemns "Senseless Act Of Violence," Offers Support To New
Alpha Peter Hale
Investigation Turns To Hunter Clan As Evidence Mounts
Teenage Submissive Arrested As Accessory To Hale Blaze, Turns State's Evidence
Extremist Hunter Faction Protests Argent Trial, Claims Solidarity With Rogue
Huntress
There had been so many more that Stiles hadn't had time to read them all. But
one article in particular had caught his attention.
Deception, Seduction, and Manipulation: How One Hunter Went Too Far
Dominant Katherine Anne Argent, 25, was arrested Saturday after a week long
manhunt that spanned three states. She was wanted as the main person of
interest in connection to the massive fire that killed 8 members of the Hale
family, including Domme Talia Hale, who was Alpha of the Hale pack and its
territory.
Beacon Hills has been part of Hale pack territory for decades, and the werewolf
clan has always helped maintain the peace while guarding the town's
inhabitants. When the mansion they called home went up in flames, it seemed a
horrible tragedy. But daylight brought the grim discovery that not only had the
fire been deliberately set but the doors and windows had been lined with
mountain ash and wolfsbane powder to prohibit escape. What began as a
devastating catastrophe quickly became a crime scene for arson, entrapment and
murder.
Authorities were initially baffled as to who could have had such an agenda
against the Hale pack. They were incredibly well liked and respected in the
community and the idea that someone could have done something so unspeakable
was mind boggling. Interviews with surviving pack members proved illuminating,
and the search for Kate Argent began in earnest.
Domme Argent had been a substitute teacher at the Hale Academy and had begun a
clandestine affair with the Alpha's underage son. She disguised herself as an
unclaimed submissive, coloring over her tattoo to make it appear black instead
of red. Under this pretense, she had been able to befriend the boy,
manipulating him into thinking she was endangered by her father, known
extremist Gerard Argent. Convincing the young Hale that she wanted him as her
Dom, she seduced him with promises of agreeing to a claim once he was tattooed.
Once she had earned the boy's trust, she began plying him for information about
the pack under guise of getting to know more about her future "family."
It turned out that, like her father, Domme Argent had extremist views that
involved killing all werewolves, not just those gone feral or rogue. In
violation of the universal code upheld by hunters worldwide, she devised her
plan to bring about the demise of the Hale pack. Revealing herself as a
dominant undercover to an unclaimed submissive that had a troubled history,
Domme Argent was able to convince the teenager to help her carry out her
murderous plan in exchange for claiming him once they rid the area of wolves.
Law enforcement officials were able to get the submissive to turn state's
evidence in their case against Domme Argent. Her murder of a prominent werewolf
pack combined with illegal relationships with two underage and unclaimed boys
further scandalized the nation, and prosecutors are confident that, in face of
all the evidence against her, they will get a conviction.
Stiles remembered reading that Kate Argent had been found guilty and sentenced
to life in prison. When Allison had first come to school, her parents had met
previously with the headmaster several times, and it had been hinted by the
teachers whatever family secret they were protecting was best left alone. A few
rumors had gone around, typical high school, but then Jackson–ever the drama
queen–went through his kanima phase and everyone lost interest in the pretty
but quiet Domme and had been swept up in the drama of having a homicidal lizard
running amok in Beacon Hills.
Stiles had always been able to put two and two together. Obviously Allison's
aunt had been the crazy woman Lydia had said was responsible for killing the
Hale family, which meant she had been the older woman who had done the
unspeakable and manipulated an underage Derek into an illicit affair. No wonder
he looked so angry at the world. No doubt he probably blamed himself for what
happened. Stiles knew he would, if the shoe were on the other foot. And now he
had just blithely suggested Derek get to know the niece of the person
responsible for fucking his life up, like it was no big deal. Stiles groaned
and banged his head on the table a few times. Way to go, dumbass.He couldn't
have messed things up more if he had tried.
The sort of trauma inflicted on the Hale family by the Argents wasn't easily
forgiven and would never be forgotten, Stiles understood that. He had lost his
mother at an early age and that loss still hurt even today, so for Derek,
having lost almost his entire pack, it had to be devastating. It was hard to
reconcile kind and loving Allison, who was always so straightforward and
honest, with being the same blood as someone who was willing to go to such
terrible lengths to destroy. Stiles knew Allison loved Scott, it was obvious in
everything she did, whether she was praising him for good behavior or punishing
him for bad. Her parents seemed a bit leery of their relationship at times and
Stiles knew they had been against Allison claiming Scott to begin with, but he
was treated well by them and they didn't interfere with Allison's care of
Scott.
Stiles sighed unhappily. He wondered if Derek was going to punish him. Wow.
Claimed less than 24 hours and already in trouble. That had to be some sort of
record or something. Lead Stiles not unto temptation, he could find it himself
far too easily. Derek had told him to eat, but Stiles found he didn't have much
of an appetite now. He ran a hand through his hair as he stood up and went to
look in the cabinets to see if Peter kept something as plebeian as pop tarts in
his house. That way he could still follow Derek's instructions without making
himself sick trying to eat something more substantial. His search was semi
successful. There was a box of strawberry pop tarts towards the back of one
cabinet, but they were the unfrosted kind. Stiles wrinkled his nose, then
shrugged. At least they weren't those weird fiber ones he'd bought once for his
dad. Once. Maybe he could put in a special grocery request with Libby, if it
was okay with Derek. He sat back down and opened the packet of pastries. After
taking one bite and choking it down, he got up to fix himself a glass of milk.
He was going to need it.
Once he sat back down, Stiles went on to methodically nibbling on his
breakfast. He wondered what Derek was doing and what was taking so long. His
chest felt achy and he felt slightly abuzz with nervous energy. There was a
sense of unhappiness he couldn't quite shake. He had upset his Dominant, even
if it had been unintentional. It grated on him, made him feel even more fidgety
than usual.
Just when Stiles was going to toss caution to the wind and risk Derek's ire by
going back to their room in search of him, his Dom strode into the kitchen. He
scanned the kitchen quickly, looking almost anxious and then relieved to see
Stiles sitting at the table, empty glass and crumbs testimony to his obedience.
Stiles quickly wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and without another
thought slid off the chair to fall to his knees on the cold tile floor. He
placed his hands palm down on his knees and kept his gaze to the floor, waiting
for Derek to acknowledge him so he could apologize. It didn't take long; Derek
placed a hand on Stiles' shoulder almost immediately.
"What are you doing? Are you okay?" Derek asked, and Stiles felt relieved that
he didn't sound angry at all. He sounded confused, though, which surprised
Stiles into looking up before dropping his gaze again. He took a deep breath.
"I wanted to apologize, sir. I spoke without thinking and upset you. I wasn't
thinking about what I was saying and I'm sorry," Stiles said. He fought against
the urge to fidget nervously.
Derek was quiet for a moment. "I see," he finally said, just as Stiles was
beginning to get anxious. "I take it you know some of what happened?" he asked,
tone neutral.
Stiles hesitated, then nodded. "A little. I went to the library after you came
to our table the other day and looked you up online," he confessed. "I was
curious about you, but I probably shouldn't have done it. It was a violation of
your privacy and I'm really sorry. If you have to punish me I understand."
"Punish you?" Derek asked, sounding surprised. "Stiles, you haven't done
anything wrong. My reaction had nothing to do with your suggestion of having
your friend and his Domme over, okay? I didn't know that there were Argents in
Beacon Hills again; Peter and Laura didn't tell me," he said, bitterness lacing
his words. "None of this is your fault, though. I'm sorry if I made you feel
that it was. I handled it badly and I owe you an apology, not the other way
around."
Stiles looked at the floor again. "I should have known better, though. I mean,
why would you want to meet anyone who was related to...to that person? I know I
wouldn't. It was a dumb idea."
Derek tugged lightly at Stiles' shoulder, urging him to his feet. "You listen
to me," he said firmly, "You had no way of knowing that I didn't know or how I
would react. Yes, I was upset, but not because of you. Don't think that. I
would like to meet your friend and his Dominant one day, okay? I don't think
today is a good day, though, and it isn't because she's an Argent, but because
he's a werewolf. Right now my instincts are at a high and I could see him as a
challenge for you, even though he isn't. I told you we would arrange a play
date and we will. Right now, though, my priority is getting you moved in here
with me. Once things get settled down, I'll call her myself."
Stiles gave his Dom a hesitant smile. "You will? Because that would be really
awesome. And I really am sorry, I shouldn't—" His words cut off as Derek placed
a finger against his lips.
"Shhhhhh, no more. It's water under the bridge and we won't talk about it any
more. Okay?" Derek asked. He waited for Stiles to nod before taking his finger
away. "Good boy," he said, smiling as the praise made Stiles smile bigger in
return. Derek's smile turned mischievous. "What we can talk about is you
looking me up," he teased.
Stiles felt his face heating up. "What? I was curious about you." When Derek
smirked at him with one brown raised, he threw up his hands. "I was! The fact
that you're hot didn't have anything to do with it. Much. Okay, maybe a
little," he relented. When Derek didn't say anything, but continued to give him
that look, Stiles finally huffed, "Fine! I confess I wanted to know more about
the Headmaster's hot nephew, alright? But it wasn't just because of your
looks."
Derek sighed dramatically. "And here I was hoping." When Stiles sputtered in
response, Derek looked pleased with himself. He glanced at the clock on the
wall and said, "We're late, we need to get going. I want this done and over
with as quickly as possible. If nothing else, I at least want your things here.
We can unpack and get things settled at our leisure; we can even wait until the
house staff is back to let them take care of it, if need be." He picked up the
keys to the Toyota and held out a hand to Stiles.
Stiles took Derek's hand and let himself be led to the SUV. Even if things
appeared to be normal and Derek seemed fine now, he was still upset with
himself. He couldn't shake the feeling of guilt souring his stomach. Maybe
moving his belongings would help get his mind off things.
===============================================================================
Maksym Stilinski taped a box of books closed. He had gotten up early and begun
packing up Stiles' things so that it would expedite the move. Stiles and Derek
hadn't shown up yet, and Maks didn't want to speculate on what might have
possibly delayed them. At some point when he wasn't looking, his son had grown
up. Now Stiles was moving out, involved in his first claim, and his sex life
wasn't something Maks really wanted to dwell on. He couldn't deny, though, that
the house seemed too quiet and rather lonely without him. Eating a meat lover's
pizza the night before just hadn't been as fulfilling as he'd thought it would
be. He'd never thought he would miss Stiles' lectures about his eating habits.
Maybe he was just getting old.
Maks carried the box over and added it to the stack he'd made. The room was
nearly completely packed up. He'd already emptied the dressers and closet. The
furniture would be staying behind, as Stiles didn't currently need it. Maks had
been sure to pack some of Stiles' favorite pictures, as well as his old teddy
bear that Angie had bought him for his second birthday. He was sure Derek would
do what he could to make Stiles feel at home in the Hale household, but a few
reminders of home couldn't hurt.
He had just put together another box when he heard a car pull up in the
driveway. Maks stood quickly and hurried downstairs, eager to see his son.
Throwing open the door, he stepped out on the porch with a wide smile. His
smile faded, however, when he saw Stiles get out of the vehicle. He looked
unhappy, as though there was something was wrong. All of Maks' protective
paternal instincts flared to life and he rushed down the steps to meet Stiles
half way. He put a hand on Stiles' shoulder and tipped his chin up with the
other.
"What's wrong?" Maks asked, frowning in concern. His frown got deeper when
Stiles hesitated, looking to Derek first as his dominant came up behind him.
"Stiles," Maks said sharply. He hadn't realized that he'd let dominance bleed
into his tone until Stiles jerked and visibly shivered, and Derek stiffened and
growled softly, eyes flashing blue in warning.
Damn. The last thing he wanted to do was to confuse Stiles by making him feel
trapped between two dominants, especially between his father and his new Dom.
Raising the ire of a werewolf dominant in a new claim wasn't the best idea,
either. Gentling his tone, he tried again. "I'm sorry, Stiles. I didn't mean to
use that tone with you. But I know you. I can tell something's wrong. Talk to
me, son."
For a moment, Maks thought Stiles wasn't going to answer him. His frustration
grew when Stiles averted his eyes and said, "Nothing, Dad. Everything's fine.
Just ready to get the move over with, I guess." He looked back and gave him
what was supposed to look like a carefree grin, but it didn't reach his eyes.
Maks frowned. He knew when Stiles wasn't being honest with him and it was an
effort not to put him in the nearest corner until he could be truthful. He
narrowed his gaze on Derek Hale, who stared back at him with an inscrutable
look. Something wasn't right and Maks was going to get to the bottom of it.
"I've started packing your things already, Stiles, but there's still a little
ways to go before it's all done. Why don't you go work in your room?" Maks
said, careful not to make it sound like an order. He then turned to Derek. "Dom
Hale, I would be delighted for you to join me in the kitchen. I put coffee on
just a bit ago and there is plenty. We can talk a bit before joining Stiles,"
he stated, his tone indicating that he was not making a suggestion and brooking
no refusal from either young man.
Stiles didn't move and his face betrayed his conflict. He looked as though he
wanted to obey, but something held him back. Maks bit back the urge to just
make it an order, knowing that would make everything worse. He watched in
silence as Derek stepped over to Stiles and put a hand on one cheek, murmuring
something softly in his ear. Stiles noticeably relaxed and nodded, looking
pleased when Derek raised Stiles' cuffed arm to his mouth to kiss the leather
strap adorning his wrist. With another quick, reluctant glance between Maks and
Derek, Stiles hurried up the stairs.
Maks turned and walked into the kitchen, knowing Derek would follow him. He
silently pulled two coffee mugs down from the cabinet and filled them. "There's
sugar and Splenda on the sideboard, if you like. Milk or creamer?" he asked as
he opened the refrigerator to take out the vanilla flavored creamer he indulged
himself with.
"What you have is fine," answered Derek, his tone neutral.
Maks nodded and poured a small amount into his mug before handing the container
to Derek. The clink of spoons against porcelain was the only sound in the room
as both men prepared their coffee. They didn't look at each other as they
sipped at the hot beverage. The silence stretched out for several moments and
finally Maks had enough. He sat his mug on the counter with a thump and crossed
his arms in his best interrogation pose.
"What's wrong with my son?" Maks demanded.
Derek raised an unperturbed brow and took another sip of his coffee. "There's
nothing wrong with my submissive," he answered flatly.
"Oh, come on, Hale," scoffed Maks. "Don't give me that. I know when something's
wrong. You may be his dominant, but I'm his father. You've been a claim for two
days and already my son looks jumpy and unhappy. I know when he's upset about
something, and so help me, if you've abused him I'll see to it that you never—"
Derek slammed his mug down with a loud thud. "Is that what you think? You think
I've done something to Stiles to hurt him or break his trust? You honestly
think I'm capable of that?" he snapped angrily, eyes flashing blue. "Have you
forgotten, Sheriff, that I know what it's like to be mistreated and have your
trust broken?"
Maks stood his ground. "I haven't accused you of anything yet, Dom Hale, all
I've done is say that something is wrong with my boy and if you are the
reason—"
"Dad!" exclaimed Stiles from the doorway, drawing the startled attention of
both dominants. They had been so focused on their argument that neither had
noticed him coming back downstairs. "Stop it! Derek didn't do anything, it was
my fault!" He strode into the kitchen to stand between them, panting slightly
and looking between them with obvious distress. "I can't stand this. It makes
my head hurt for you to argue with each other!"
"Stiles, you have to calm down, you're going to have a panic attack," exclaimed
Maks in alarm. He watched as Derek quickly put his hands on Stiles' shoulders
and drew him close. The tension literally melted out of Stiles and he closed
his eyes as he lay his head on Derek's shoulder. Derek stroked a hand up and
down Stiles' back in a soothing manner while whispering in his ear. After a few
moments Stiles nodded and Derek made an approving noise. When Stiles raised his
head, Derek dropped a quick kiss on his mouth.
"You're my good boy, Stiles. Now do what you were told and go finish packing.
Your dad and I will be along soon to help. I promise," Derek said. Stiles
looked at Maks, a plea in his eyes, before turning back to Derek and nodding,
then going back upstairs.
Maks and Derek stared at each other for a moment. Derek broke the heavy silence
first.
"The Argents are back in town," he said quietly. "I didn't know. Peter and
Laura kept it from me, and while I don't agree with their reasoning, I guess to
a degree I understand them. I only found out when Stiles asked about having his
friend Scott come over to help with packing and moving. He let it out that
Scott's Domme is Kate Argent's niece and I reacted poorly. I've tried to make
him understand he didn't do anything wrong, but he thinks he has. He thinks I'm
angry over being asked to associate with an Argent, when I'm actually angry I
didn't know such a possibility still actually existed."
"Ah, hell," swore Maks, pinching the bridge of his nose and sighing heavily.
Looking Derek in the eye, he said, "I thought you needed to be told. I even
said as much to the Alpha. I didn't think to warn Stiles against saying
anything about Allison until it was a sure thing you'd been informed about
their return." He took a deep breath and heaved it back out again. "When I'm
wrong, I say I'm wrong. I owe you an apology, for both my inactions and my
actions. I should have spoken to Stiles about Allison, and I didn't. And I
shouldn't have reacted the way I did or said the things I said when you got
here. Understand, though, I will always do everything to protect my son."
Derek nodded his head once in acknowledgement. "I appreciate what you're
saying. Right now I just want it in the past and to move forward. I signed a
contract and swore before both the Alpha and the Magistrate that I would take
care of Stiles and protect him, and I intend to do just that." He picked up his
coffee cup and took a swallow of the cooling liquid. "Let's not argue, Sheriff.
We both want the same thing; what's best for Stiles."
"Agreed," said Maks as he drained his own mug. "We should get upstairs before
Stiles worries himself into a frenzy." He waited while Derek finished off his
own coffee. "Something you'll need to know; Stiles tends to blame himself for
things that aren't his fault. It gets in his head, and it'll be up to you to
get him out of that place when it happens." When Derek nodded in understanding,
Maks held out his hand. Derek took it and they firmly shook hands, both
relieved to have come to an understanding.
"Before we leave today, I need to make sure I get some medical history from you
about Stiles, copies of medical records or at least something letting me know
about him so I am aware," Derek said as they put their mugs in the sink. Maks
walked to the dining room table and picked up a manila envelope marked "DOM
DEREK HALE."
"I have everything here," Maks said. "I actually meant to give it to you
yesterday, but since I was delayed for the ceremony I didn't want to be even
later by coming home first. There's copies of his records as well as all his
legal documents; birth certificate, immunizations, blood results, that sort of
thing. His passport's in there as well, just in case. If I've missed anything,
just let me know."
Derek nodded. "I appreciate it," he said, placing the envelope on the table by
the door and putting his keys on top of it. The two dominants headed up the
stairs, each wanting to check on the young submissive they knew was probably
pacing anxiously, wondering what was going on.
===============================================================================
Later that night, Derek and Stiles were working together in their room. With
the Sheriff's help, packing Stiles' things into the SUV had gone quickly, and
they were able to move everything in just a couple of trips. It hadn't taken
them long to get the boxes unloaded, and they were unpacking and organizing.
Derek was putting Stiles' clothes away in the closet and dresser, keeping a
close watch on Stiles. His submissive was being unusually quiet, and Derek
wasn't sure if it was a lingering reaction to the earlier conflict between
himself and Maks, or if it was because Stiles was still upset over what
happened with the accidental Argent reveal. Stiles kept his head down and kept
kneeling for long moments next to boxes before cutting the tape to open them,
deliberately getting into submissive posture. Derek knew something was wrong,
but he couldn't figure out just what. His wolf whined anxiously, unhappy that
there was obviously something wrong with his boy. Derek wanted to wait for
Stiles to say something to him; he didn't want to have to make it a command for
Stiles to do so, but he didn't know exactly what to do to get his submissive to
open up.
Finally, when Stiles angrily cut the tape on a box and nicked his finger in the
process, causing him to grunt in pain before sticking his finger in his mouth
to suck off the welling blood, Derek had enough.
"Come here, Stiles," Derek ordered softly. Stiles stood and crossed the room to
stand in front of Derek. His eyes were downcast, his lips trembling slightly.
Derek took his hand, looked carefully at the cut on his finger, and gently
maneuvered Stiles to the bathroom so he could clean and bandage the cut. Stiles
remained silent as he was tended to. When he was finished, Derek led Stiles
back to the bedroom and placed a kneeling cushion he'd brought along from the
Stilinski house on the floor.
"Kneel for me," Derek said. When Stiles obeyed, quickly and without comment,
Derek sighed to himself quietly. He tilted Stiles' chin up. "Look at me, that's
a good boy. Now, tell me what's wrong. And don't tell me nothing, you've
obviously been unhappy all day and I can't fix it if you don't tell me what's
going on in that head of yours. I need you to be truthful."
Stiles was stubbornly silent for a moment, and just when Derek thought he was
going to have to take action and put him in the corner, he blurted out, "I need
to be punished."
Well. That wasn't quite what Derek expected. He had to tread carefully here. It
was important that Stiles' needs be top priority, but Derek still didn't
believe Stiles had done anything wrong. He remembered what Maks had told him
earlier, about Stiles blaming himself for things, and knew what he needed to
do.
"I see," Derek said, still gently holding Stiles' chin up. "And what would I be
punishing you for?"
Stiles fidgeted on his knees and cast his eyes to the side. "I upset you. By
telling you about the Argents."
Derek ran a thumb over Stiles' quivering lower lip. "I was upset, that's true.
But it wasn't you I was upset with, Stiles. I would have found out eventually.
I am more unhappy that Peter and Laura didn't tell me." Stiles was quiet but
didn't look fully convinced.
Derek cleared his throat. He had to tread carefully here. "I am a bit upset
with you now, though." Stiles' breath hitched and his eyes widened. "Do you
know why?" Derek asked.
Stiles hesitated as he thought, then said, "Because I didn't tell you why I was
upset?"
Derek nodded. "I need you to be open and honest with me about your feelings and
your needs, Stiles. I need you to trust me to take care of you. Have you done
that?"
Stiles imperceptibly shook his head and said, so quietly that Derek might not
have heard him were he not a werewolf, "No, Sir."
Derek made a noise of agreement. "And because you didn't talk to me about being
upset and why, you hurt yourself. You're lucky it was just a small cut; it
could have been worse. You might have needed stitches, or something even more
serious. That would have really upset me. Do you understand, pretty boy?"
Stiles shivered, his eyes closing at the endearment. "Yes, Sir," he whispered.
Derek made up his mind. It was obvious to him that Stiles was convinced he
needed punishment, and he would not get out of that mindset until Derek did
something about it. While corner time would be enough for Derek, he
instinctively knew that Stiles needed more than that from him. He opened up his
trunk and took out a pair of sleek black leather gloves. They would lessen the
sting of a spanking, which suited Derek perfectly for this mild punishment.
This way he could compromise with giving Stiles what he needed while being able
to keep the punishment at the level he felt was appropriate.
"Here's what we're going to do," Derek instructed. "I want you to take your
clothes off. Put them in the hamper, don't just toss them on the floor. I'm
going to sit on the bed, and when you're undressed I want you to lay across my
lap. I'm going to spank you, ten strokes and you're going to count each one out
loud for me. I'm using gloves because this is a punishment. My hands will
always only touch you for care and pleasure. Do you understand?"
Stiles nodded. "Yes, Sir," he answered as he shakily stumbled to his feet.
Derek walked to the bed and sat down, pulling on the gloves and watching
alertly for any signs of distress in his submissive. Stiles quietly pulled off
his shirts and jeans, standing for a moment in just his boxers and socks.
"Color?" asked Derek, just to be sure. He could always have Stiles write
sentences or do pushups instead of being spanked, but his instincts were
telling him that this was what Stiles needed.
Stiles straightened his shoulders. "Green," he answered clearly, removing his
remaining clothing. He trod silently to Derek and stretched out across his lap.
Derek widened his stance to provide better support. He ran his appreciative
gaze over the gorgeous curve of ass, the strong back and thighs on display.
Pale, perfect and vulnerable. His wolf purred at the thought of marking his
submissive, warming that round bottom to a rosy glow.
"Count out loud. Just numbers, Stiles, don't say anything else," Derek said.
When Stiles nodded, Derek brought his gloved hand down on his right cheek in a
hard smack.
Stiles tensed slightly, then breathed out heavily. "One," he said calmly.
"Good boy," praised Derek. He brought his hand down on the left cheek.
"Two," counted Stiles, voice still measured.
"So good for me," Derek said, pleased to see some of the tension leaving
Stiles. He brought his hand down a third time.
"Th-three" stuttered Stiles. Derek brought his hand down again, making sure to
wait for Stiles to count out loud before proceeding with the next stroke and
making sure to praise him each time. The tension seemed to drain out of Stiles
with each count and stroke, and by the time they reached nine, his ass was
glowing a rosy pink and he was hard against Derek's leg. Derek's hand came down
a final time and Stiles shakily breathed out ten. He was pliant and warm, and
Derek murmured words of approval as he stripped off the gloves, tossing them to
the side as he carefully maneuvered Stiles over to sit in his lap, making sure
not to put any pressure on his bottom.
"Such a good boy," Derek praised, running a hand through Stiles' slightly damp
with sweat hair. Stiles was quiet, breathing a bit heavily, his erection hard
against his thigh. Derek reached for the bottle of lube on the night stand and
squeezed a small amount into his hand. He took Stiles' cock in his hand and
began slowly stroking it. "Would you like to come?" he asked.
Stiles moaned and shuddered in his arms. "Please, Sir, please let me come. I
want to come."
Derek pressed a kiss to his temple and kept stroking. "You can come, pretty
boy. This is all for you. Come whenever you're ready." He held Stiles close,
urging him on towards orgasm with his hand. When Stiles finally came, he tensed
for a moment before moaning loudly. His body jerked as he spilled hot over
Derek's fist. His eyes fluttered shut and he panted softly. Derek smiled to
himself, struck anew by the beauty of the boy he held. He moved so that he
could lay Stiles against the pillows, arranging him on his side so his bottom
didn't touch anything. It took just a moment to clean the come off his hand and
Stiles' stomach; though the urge to lick them both clean was strong, Derek
settled for using wet wipes. He reached into the aftercare kit Laura had left
him and pulled out a tube of lotion. He carefully rubbed some onto the still
warm skin, continuing to whisper praise and endearments to his boy as he did.
When he was finished, Derek got up and quickly put his gloves back in the trunk
and put away the lube and lotion. He stripped down to his briefs and climbed on
the bed to lay down next to Stiles, taking him into his arms and carefully
pulling a blanket over them, smiling when Stiles snuggled against him. Derek
rubbed his hands soothingly up and down Stiles' back, pressing the occasional
light kiss on his lips and cheeks. Watching Stiles drift in subspace could far
too easily become one of his favorite things.
After a short time, Derek felt, rather than saw Stiles returning to himself.
His boy stirred in his arms, then stretched, hissing when his movements brought
his attention to his sore ass. Sleepy eyes blinked at him, followed by a slow
smile.
"Hi," whispered Stiles, raising his arms to wrap them around Derek's neck.
"Hi yourself," replied Derek, tightening his hold on Stiles. "Welcome back. How
do you feel?"
"Mmmmmm, better," Stiles said, stretching again and wincing before reaching
back to rub his ass. "Make that better but a little sore," he admitted,
laughing ruefully.
"Do you need me to put more lotion on you?" asked Derek in concern. "Would you
prefer aloe with lidocaine? I'm pretty sure we have some." He started to roll
away to look when Stiles stopped him.
"I'm fine," Stiles reassured Derek. "My head feels clear, my butt's blissfully
sore and I can't think of anywhere I'd rather be right now than right here in
the arms of my awesome Dom. Please don't leave me."
"I'm pretty sure I've told you you are a menace," Derek huffed softly as he
tucked the blankets around them and settled back down, holding Stiles close.
"Sleep now. I promise I'll be right here. Don't worry about doing anymore
unpacking tonight. Rest is what you need right now, we can worry about
everything else tomorrow." Derek rubbed his nose against Stiles' before
pressing a soft kiss against his lips. He lay still as Stiles cuddled up to
him, watching as he drifted off. Once he was sure Stiles was asleep, Derek
closed his own eyes, allowing himself to relax into sleep as well. His wolf
rumbled low, peaceful and content as he held his boy close.
End Notes
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