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When Stiles came into consciousness, he found himself surrounded by garbage. He was in a dumpster.
"Bitch." He muttered. Fucking Erica knocked him out and left him in a dumpster.
His head throbbed, there's a huge bump that was beginning to form where Erica bashed him over the head with a car part, and OH MY GOD WHAT THE HELL IS THAT Stiles thought as his hand felt something furry and moving. He quickly climbed out of the dumpster with as much grace as he could muster due to all the dizziness he was experiencing.
He shook his head in an attempt to clear his mind. The first thing he did was take out his cell phone and dial Scott's number to find out if he was alright.
""Stiles! Where the hell have you been?" Scott answered. He sounded weak and exhausted.
“Erica man. She knocked me out and left me in a dumpster! What happened to you?”
“I found Boyd at the ice rink, but so was Derek, Isaac and Erica...” Scott paused. “They got Boyd, Stiles. Derek has all three members of his pack now, which means he's more powerful than ever. He needs to be stopped."
Scott took a sharp breath and groaned.
"Hey, are you okay?" Stiles asked nervously.
“I was no match for Derek. We fought and he won."
"But you should be okay now right? I mean can't you just heal yourself?"
"Well that's the thing, the wounds and injuries from Isaac and Erica healed immediately, but the cuts from Derek are not healing, no matter how hard I concentrate. It fucking hurts man."
"…Where are you now? Do you need me to drive you to the hospital?"
"Yeah and having to explain the claw marks on my stomach? No thanks. I'll tough it out tonight and go see Dr. Deaton tomorrow."
"Okay. But I'm coming with you tomorrow."
After he hung up with Scott he headed back to his house. Luckily where he was now was not too far away, only about 30 min on foot. He needed a shower badly. He smelled of dead fish and various rotten things.
When he got home he jumped into the shower immediately and tossed his smelly clothes into the hamper. Luckily his dad was working night shift today, so no one was home.
After he got out of the shower he wrapped himself in a bathrobe and went to his room. He didn’t bother turning on the light because he was just going to collapse into his bed. His big, soft, heavenly bed.
The window was open and a gentle breeze was blowing through the room. That’s odd, the windows are never open since they had the AC on. Stiles walked over to close the windows.
As he turned around he noticed a dark shadow looming in front of him.
“OH MY GOD!” He all but yelled, jumping about 4 feet into the air.
Slowly the shadow stepped forward, revealing a person dressed in a black jacket, with piercing eyes that glowed red in the moonlight.
“Derek! Oh my God can you not do that you creep?!” This must have been the third time Derek had waited for him in his room, like a creepy stalker. The guy had major social issues to fix, particularly the one about not scaring the shit out of people with his presence.
“Where were you tonight, Stiles?” Derek said. Stiles was always amazed at how gentle and soft Derek’s voice was compared to his hard alpha wolf exterior, but he knew that underneath that gentleness was danger. The guy could rip his throat out right now. With his teeth. If he wanted to.
Stiles didn’t say anything but glare at Derek. Derek knew where he was. Even with the shower he knew Derek could smell the dumpster on him. It was probably him who told Erica to stop him from finding Boyd. He was the one behind all this, behind Scott getting hurt.
“I don’t have to tell you anything. You hurt Scott.”
“I did.” Derek actually had the nerve to smile. “He needed to be taught a lesson. A wolf is only as strong as his pack. If he continues to resist us, then I will not be responsible for what happens when the hunters get a hold of him.”
Stiles’ blood boiled. Although he could never decide whether the guy was trustworthy or not, deep down he desperately wanted to believe that Derek was good, that he was on their side, because he was showing Scott how to deal with his wolf, and he helped him get into the police station to rescue Isaac. Now all that’s gone down the drain. He felt utterly betrayed and hurt.
Derek stepped closer to Stiles, who stiffened. They were almost chest-to-chest now.
“You’re angry.” Derek stated.
“No shit I’m angry. You’ve been a douchebag ever since you became alpha. Guess what, being alpha doesn’t mean that you’re god. You can’t have everything you want.”
“I know.” Derek said. His voice barely a whisper now. He seemed almost mournful.
“And by the way? You little henchwoman Erica bashed me over the head with my own car part. Now not only is my jeep dead I think I might have a mild concussion.”
Derek’s eyes narrowed. “Erica…hurt you?”
“Oh please, don’t pretend like you didn’t know. You probably were the one who put her up to it. Lucky for me it was Erica who came after me, If you had it your way, I’d probably be dead right now.” Stiles rolled his eyes.
Derek growled and slammed Stiles against the wall, but immediately let go when Stiles grimaced in pain. Instead he punched the wall hard behind Stiles, who stiffened. He looked at Derek wide mouthed and terrified.
“Fuck!” Derek growled. He walked away and circled the room, like a caged animal. His eyes were glowing red. Stiles watched him, terrified, and unable to leave his current position by the window. He’d never seen Derek loose control of his emotions like this before.
Once Derek calmed down he came back, and backed Stiles against the wall again.
“I never meant for her to harm you.” He said, his expression deadly serious. “I simply told her to keep you away.”
“And why would you ever do that? Ha, to protect me? Because you care about me?” Stiles scoffed.
He stopped laughing when he saw how incredibly serious Derek was. He looked wounded and apologetic. Oh shit, maybe Derek really was trying to protect him. But why? He was not a werewolf, he was not pack. Derek had nothing to gain from protecting him.
“I’m sorry.” Derek said, and Stiles might have had a mini freak out because Derek Hale the Alpha wolf just apologized to him.
Derek leaned down and brushed his nose over Stiles’ neck, breathing in his scent. Oh God Stiles should not be turned on by that because right now he needed to concentrate at being angry.
“Why do you smell faintly of garbage?” He asked.
“Oh that’s the funny part. Because after your girlfriend knocked me unconscious, she left me in the dumpster for dead!” Stiles exclaimed.
“She’s not my girlfriend. She’s pack.” Derek said.
“Uh huh, and what does that mean? That you two bang whenever you want and have werewolf babies?” He’s being irrational and ridiculous now, but Stiles didn’t care. He was angry as hell.
He flashed back to the scene in the school parking lot where he saw Erica getting into Derek’s Camaro. Derek had looked him straight in the eye and smirked like a bastard. Stiles was not jealous, he was not, but the thought of Erica and Derek together made him want to vomit.
“She’s not who I’m interested in.” Derek said. Derek’s face look tortured, like he was fighting an inner battle within himself. “I’m sorry, Stiles, for hurting you.”
“I-It’s okay man… I mean…” Stiles rubbed his hand over his hair awkwardly. He started to say something that flew out the window as Derek started sniffing him again, this time more methodical, taking his time to breath deeply.
He started by holding Stile’s hands up, and breathing in over his wrist. When his lips came in contact with Stiles’ skin he shivered. Then Derek moved up his arm, stopping to smell now and then, and nosed along his jaw.
“What the hell are you doing? That tickles!” Stiles laughed, which came out as more of a gasp.
He was so close now, that Stiles could smell Derek’s faint musk, full of woodsy spices and incredibly masculine. It was making Stiles dizzy and his heart jackhammer.
Derek smelled down Stiles’ neck again, he must have had a thing for necks. When Derek went over Stiles’ pulse point, he paused, and Stiles thought oh my god he’s going to ripped my throat out and feast on the blood.
But instead he felt something wet and warm. Derek licked him there, mouthing over the pulse point and sucking a bruise into the tender flesh.
Stiles let out a whimper because Derek must have some special werewolf power because he was so hot and turned on right now he felt like he would die if Derek didn’t touch him.
He whimpered again and tilted his head up further, exposing more of his neck. Derek growled in approval. He nipped at Stiles' neck with his sharp teeth possessively before soothing it with a flick of the tongue. As much as Stiles wanted to give into the Alpha and let him have his way with him, a little voice in the back of his mind told him that this was not right. He had hurt Scott, and he shouldn’t be doing this with someone who could be their enemy.
It took all of Stiles’ strength to bring his hands up to Derek’s shoulders and push him away.
“You should go.” He said, biting the bottom of his lip. No matter how much his body was saying that he wanted this, his loyalty was with Scott.
He could feel the Alpha gaze on him. And within moments he was gone, leaving as quietly as he came.
Stiles went over to shut the window for the second time. He was still incredibly aroused. It looked like another lonely night full of sexual frustrations.