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Pack Bitch

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Gerard’s mouth is still opening and closing, no sound emerging from it, as he falls to the ground; the blood and bile spewing from every orifice, blackened by the mountain ash in his system that had caused his body to reject the bite.

 

“Why didn’t you tell me, Scott?” Derek asks from his prone position on the ground, looking up at me with hurt in his pleading eyes.

 

I feel the pull to tell him the truth; to say that Deaton thought it best to keep everyone else in the dark about the plan, that he said the less people that knew the less chance of someone slipping up and Gerard somehow finding out.  But I steel my resolve; I can’t let the wolf control me like that.

 

“Because you might be an alpha, but you’re not MY alpha,” are the words that come out of my mouth.  My voice is harsher than I intended, and the wounded look in Derek’s eyes spreads as his whole face shows just how much my words and tone have hurt him.

 

I feel as if I just stabbed myself in the heart as I turn from him and walk away, but I know that must the wolf; the invader inhabiting my body showing its displeasure at my rejection of the alpha and his pack.  I just wish that it didn’t make me feel like I betrayed the pack and wish there was a way I could allow myself to be a part of it; but that’s not what I want, it’s what the wolf wants.

 


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It’s been over a week since the fight at the warehouse and I still feel the wolf gnawing at me.  I can’t concentrate on anything.  Stiles even managed to get some balls past me and score when we were practicing lacrosse; it’s a good thing school’s out for the summer because if Coach had seen he would have chewed me out for a week.  Every day it’s getting worse, I feel hot and feverish.  If it wasn’t for the fact I’m a werewolf I would think I’m getting sick.  I’ve been avoiding Derek and his pack since the fight with Gerard, I’m pretty sure I’ve burned all my bridges with him; so, that leaves talking to Deaton or Stiles about it.

 

Stiles will just start asking a thousand question that I don’t know the answer to, or he will end up spending all his time researching werewolf diseases on-line; he might even recommend asking Derek.  And at this point I need something more reliable than what what I can find on Google; that leaves talking to Deaton.


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My shift is practically over and I still haven’t been able to muster up the courage to ask Deaton about what’s going on with me, but I can’t put it off any longer.  I need to figure out what’s wrong with me; and I have to do it subtly, in a way that doesn’t make him think it has something to do with me.

 

“So, I was thinking that I should find out what could maybe make a werewolf feel sick, there must other things than wolfs bane, right?”  I ask as I’m cleaning out one of the animal cages.

“Are you feeling sick?” Deaton asks back.

“What, no, I was just… it’s just that I don’t have an alpha to go ask about werewolf physiology and being one I just thought that…”

“I have noticed your lack of concentration today,” he interrupts me, “You even put the notes on Charlie, Mrs Fields’ Blue Persian, in the folder for Maxwell, Ms Armstrong’s King Charles terrier.”

“Huh?”

“Exactly,” Deaton pointedly says, “So, Scott, what do you really want to know?”

“Umm… well, I’ve not be able to concentrate and I’ve been feeling hot; hotter than usual, and feverish, like I was running a temperature or something.  It kinda feels like it did when I was coming down with something, when I was human and could get sick…”

“It could be a number of things,” Deaton replies, “From a reaction to coming into contact with certain types of wolfs bane, a spell or curse, or it could be a new evolution of your power.  I’ll see if there is any way to narrow down the possibilities and in a few days I should know more; if nothing has changed by then we’ll run some tests to determine what is happening.”

“Okay, thanks.”

 

I leave the clinic feeling a lot better about things now that I have someone that is looking out for me.


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Today has been a complete failure.

 

It’s a few days after I had finally spoken to Deaton, and he still hasn’t been able to give me any answers.

 

I was getting frustrated and called Stiles, we both logged on and spent the day playing CoD.  He’d loved every minute of it; having a hell of a time as he continued to beat me every game.  I just couldn’t focus; my concentration wandered, I felt hot and my body ached.  There was a tingling sensation over my skin, and it felt as if it was pulled too tight across my body.

 

Eventually I just gave up and told Stiles I was signing off.  I wasn’t going to get my dignity back tonight;  I did worse with each consecutive attempt.  I imagine I’ve got too much on my mind to fall asleep anytime soo...


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I wake in the morning to the sound of my mom’s car pulling out of the driveway, she has an early shift at the hospital; I can feel the tangle of the bed sheet around my legs.  As I pull myself up and sit back against the headboard I can see one pillow laying on the floor a few feet away, and even though I slept through the night I feel spent.  But everything else is gone;  the heat, the aching, the sense of unease I’ve felt non-stop over the past days seems to be gone.  I actually feel great, every part of me feels amazing, so reach over to the lotion on the nightstand; as I do I look down at myself and the bed and notice what’s happened.

 

My chest is smooth and hairless; the hair from my arms is gone too.  With growing panic I kick away the tangled mess of sheets and look down, hair is everywhere; short hair covers the bed and looks as if I were a mangy dog that had shed its coat.  All of the hair from my neck down has fallen out of my body.  Disentangling myself from the sheets made it clear that my hair isn’t the only thing I’ve lost. 

 

Where my cock and balls used to be I find just a slit… almost like the lips of a… I have a fucking vagina… and as the thought finally registers I panic.

 

My heart is pounding in my chest as I leap from my bed and… fuck, I don’t know what to do.  I feel the tears pool in my eyes and start to fall down my cheeks.  I’m scared, and I feel so helpless.  Maybe this is just a dream – a nightmare – it can’t be real.

 

I move towards the mirror and look at myself; the expanse of smooth, hairless, skin from my neck down, and the mound of flesh where my cock and balls should be, bring a shuddering gasp and whimper from my throat.  ‘It can’t be real’ I repeat to myself, my hands running over the hairless skin – it feels so strange and different – down towards that area.

 

I don’t want to touch it, I want this to be a dream, I don’t want to make it real but… my fingers caress along the lips, slip into the folds and as I bring them up to the top they brush against something that sends a jolt of an electric sensation through me and the gasp that shoots from me has my hand jerking away.

 

I don’t know what has happened to me.  I don’t understand… this shouldn’t be possible… this change can’t be, but I know it’s the wolf’s fault.  Fuck.  Fuck.  I don’t know what to do… I can’t leave the house, I don’t want anyone to see me like this.  With a hairless body, and… that

 

I wipe at my eyes with the back of my hand, I feel the tears threatening to fall, but I won’t allow it; I’m not a girl.  Whatever is happening to me, I am still male.  And whatever is happening I can deal with it.  I can work this out; I’ve faced and dealt with psycho hunters and a kanima.  This is…

 

I need to talk to someone about this; someone that knows about werewolves, and can explain what’s happened to me.  And how to undo it.

 

My first thought is Stiles.  But don’t think he’ll know anything, and will need to research, and I don’t want to see… this… and think less of me because of it.  He’s my best friend and I don’t want to lose his friendship.

 

Deaton would be able to find out what has happened, and he was already checking out about the hotness and concentration problems I was having.  This must be connected, but he didn’t know what those were, and he said to let him know if anything changed.  But again, I don’t really want my boss to see me like this.  Plus, he’s a doctor, what if he wants to… see it.  No, Deaton is not an option.

 

With a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach, I fear my only option is Derek.

 

He is a born werewolf, and he has more chance of actually knowing something.  I really don’t want to interact with the any of the pack – especially the alpha – but I don’t see any other option if I’m to get any answers about what has happened to me.  And if anything, he’s the one person I know who’s opinion matters the least to me; so that’s something.

 

I quickly pull on some clothes, just some jeans and a shirt; the material feels strange against my skin, the hairlessness making me feel more and my underwear feeling loose and just not fitting right without my…  I rush out the door and ride my bike to Derek’s loft.



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I pound on the door and wait for him to answer.

 

The door opens warily and Isaac is standing on the other side frowning in confusion.

“You smell different,” he says, almost making it sound like a question.

“I need to talk with Derek,” I reply, adding, “Privately.”  I see Derek standing at the top of the spiral staircase; only wearing a pair of sleep pants.  Isaac’s frown deepens as he looks between Derek and me, waiting for his alpha to tell him if I’m allowed in their den.

“Isaac, go meet up with Erica, Boyd, and Jackson, and get some breakfast,” Derek says as he walks down the stairs, “You can all head out to the house after and I’ll meet up with you there after I’ve ‘talked’ with Scott.”

Isaac takes one more look at his alpha before he shrugs and then heads out the door; barely acknowledging me when we used to be nearly friends.

 

As he walks to into the apartment he sees Derek sniff the air, and his eyes widen in shock; his eyebrows nearly disappearing into his hairline.

“So, you changed last night I take it,” he smirks, a wolfish grin breaking out on his face.

“You know what’s happening to me?”

“You don’t?” he asks as he lounges back on his sofa, “It must have started a week or so ago, and you must have felt… off, so you would have talked to Stiles,” I must give something away in my look as he continues, “Ah, you didn’t go to Stiles about it, too embarrassed maybe?  That means you went to Deaton.  He should have been more than able to explain.”

“Deaton said it could be several things, a spell, a curse, the wolf evolving…”

“You have certainly evolved,” he snorts, “So, Deaton really didn’t tell you anything?”

“No,” I snap back at him, “Just tell me what’s happening to me,” I demand of him.  His eyes narrow in anger and I can feel the wolf trying to get me to bare my neck in appeasement; the wolf’s desire to show submission to the alpha wins out and Derek smiles at my act of surrender.

“Show me,” he commands.

“What?  You already know, why do…”

“Show. Me.”

 

I don’t want to; I want to yell at him to just tell me what he knows, but my fingers fumble with the buttons on my shirt and jeans as I strip out of them and pull my underwear off, throwing them defiantly on the floor.

“Sit,” he nods towards the other end of the sofa he’s sitting on.  The wolf is enjoying following the alpha’s orders, I can feel the tingle of excitement in my crotch and hope that Derek doesn’t notice.

Suddenly he’s on his knees between my legs, pulling them up and spreading them as leans in close and examines the… changes.  I feel myself blush, and turn my head to look anywhere but at him.

“Look at me,” he growls.  I turn back to face him, but the low rumbling growl continues as he looks at the mound between my legs.  I feel my pulse and breath quickening, a gasp escaping from my throat.  Derek’s eyes dart to my face before his gaze returns lower.

 

“You’re going to need this,” he says as his fingers caress over the lips of… there’s some sort of moisture on his fingers as they continue down over my…

“What?” I ask confused, between the touching, and the wolf preening under the alpha’s attention, and the sensitivity of my skin where his fingers continue to glide over me.

“See how aroused you are?” Derek absently asks ignoring my question, his fingers raised in front of me glisten, wet with some of the fluid that’s leaking from my… the vagina.

 

His fingers return between my legs, rubbing over the swollen lips and teasing the sensitive spot at the top.  I feel myself shudder at the contact.

“See that clit emerging from your pussy?  How it’s twice the size of an average clit?  That’s what has become of your cock,” Derek’s words float over my skin and I can’t hold back the whine; it looks like a tiny cock peeking from the folds of skin, but before I can respond he rubs the wetness from the vaginal juices over the clitoris and my head falls back as a moan is pulled from me.  His fingers massage my clitoris in a circular motion and my hips begin to move to meet each stroke.  I feel him leaning over me and he bites and sucks on my nipples.  As my nipples get larger and harder from the attention Derek is giving them with his teeth, his lips, and his tongue, my breath quickens.  I feel hot all over, and my heart is racing.

His fingers haven’t stopped playing with my clitoris, and it feels so sensitive and swollen, and I feel so wet down there.  Suddenly I’m gasping.  I lose all control to the wolf, my legs wrapping round him, trying to pull him closer, as I bare my neck to him whimpering in need.

“Ah, ah, ah, ah, ah, Derek!” his fingers never stop rubbing against me and his teeth bite around my nipple, “Alpha!” I scream as I my body go rigid and I hear him release a satisfied growl.

 

As my heart beat and breathing return to normal I look at him, looking into his red alpha eyes and I know my own are shining amber.

“As much as you loved my fingers teasing you, I know what a bitch like you really wants,” Derek growls at my ear, “But don’t worry, I know how to give you what you need.”

“What do I need?” I ask a little breathlessly.

“You need your alpha’s knot,” Derek says, “You’ll need contact with all of the wolves in the pack before you go into heat; the more intimate the contact the less you’ll be affected by your heat, and the more focused you’ll be afterwards.”

Intimate… heat?!  What?!”  I screech jerking out of his touch as I try to get off the couch, “What do you mean I’m going to need…?” I can’t understand what he means, “And go into heat?  What?  Like a dog?

Derek growls at the dog comparison and I can’t help but bare my throat to him.  The wolf still having so much control over my actions.

“We’re not dogs, we’re wolves,” Derek growls, before continuing, “And you are one of the rarest werewolves.”

 

“What am I?” I ask, filled with uneasiness at the answer he might give.

 

You’re my bitch.”

 

 

Chapter Text

 

What?  I’m not your bitch!” I wailed; the alpha was towering over me, between my spread legs as I lay sprawled on his couch.  I tried to back away from Derek, but one flash of red bleeding into his eyes had me whining in submission.

"I said you were a male bitch, but you hear what you want Scotty," the alpha smirks down at me, “Guess you want this more than I thought.”

“No, and I’m not a bitch,” I say, unable to put any conviction into my denial as the wolf basks in the afterglow of the alpha’s attention, “There has to be some way to undo this, to get me back to normal.”

“No,” Derek snarls, “There isn’t; this is who you are, and it’s not as if you aren’t enjoying being…”

I’m not!” I cut him off before he finishes what he was saying.

“Really?” he asks holding his fingers, still coated with the wetness from when they were in me, in front of my face, “That’s why you came so hard from my fingers in your pussy?”

It’s not me,” I counter, “It’s the wolf; not me.”

I’ve told you before, the wolf is not separate from you!” Derek snaps at my words, “I’m taking you to Deaton; he can explain like he should have, instead of just tell you you’re ‘evolving’.  See if you believe him.”  He almost sounds like Stiles with his snarky tone.

 

I don’t want Deaton to see me like this, but Derek doesn’t give me any choice; grabbing me half-naked as I try to get my clothes back on, and dragging me out of the door.  The wolf seems to like this commanding alpha routine and I can’t seem to fight against him.




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The wolf must be as unhappy as I am to be dragged to see Deaton.  I don’t feel any conflicting emotions as Derek drives us there.  I half think I should jump out of the Camaro and make a run for it, but decide against making the alpha any angrier.

 

Deaton is closing up as Derek grabs my arm and pulls be along towards the door.  Deaton turns to face us.

“Derek, Scott,” he says, looking down at the tight grip Derek has of my arm he asks, “Is everything alright?”

“Scott was unaware exactly on the possibilities that ‘your wolf evolving’ could mean,” Derek all but snarls at Deaton, “While I’ve tried to explain to him what being a male bitch in the pack means, and that there is no way to reverse his change, I think he needs to hear it from you.”

I see the flicker of shock fleet across Deaton’s face before he schools his features back to his normal expressionless appearance.

“You better come inside,” he says unlocking the door again.

 

He leads us, well Derek – I’m still being dragged by the arm – through to the examination room.  As we walk through the door, Derek closes it behind us, placing himself between me and the door before he lets go of my arm.  Clearly worried that I’ll run from him.  I look across to Deaton and there’s concern showing again.

 

“Doc?” I ask, my voice cracking a little as I start to worry, again.  I hate the fact that I start to calm down when Derek puts a hand on the back of my neck.  The wolf taking comfort from the alpha’s presence and attention.  Deaton’s eyes dart between Derek and me before he speaks.

“Scott,” my boss starts, pausing before he continues, “you were supposed to tell me if the symptoms changed, if they were getting worse.”

“They didn’t change!” I snap at him, “It was the same symptoms, and the same hotness and lack of concentration.  It was only during the night that… something… happened.  There’s a way to undo it; right?”

“I should examine you, make sure that…”

Answer his question!” Derek snarls at Deaton, his eyes blazing alpha red.  I can’t stop myself from ducking my head and bearing my neck to him, the wolf taking control in my anxiety.  I know there can only be one answer if Deaton is avoiding answering me.

“No, there isn’t any way reverse the change,” Deaton softly says.  I fall back, expecting to sit against a counter top, but instead my back hits against Derek’s chest; his arms wrap around me, holding me as Deaton continues talking.

“I wasn’t expecting this to be the evolution that was occurring in your body; male bitches, the recorded instances, usually manifest with their first change,” I barely hear what the vet is saying, only aware of the blood pounding in my ears.  Derek says something in reply, but I don’t make out a word he says.

 

"No, no, no!" I hear myself shouting, “This isn’t supposed to be happening.  This isn’t how things are supposed to be.  Allison is coming back from France, and we’re supposed to get back together.  She and I are meant to be.

 

I struggle to free myself from Derek’s arms, I try to pull out of his grip.  I hear the growl of frustration from him at my back.  The heat of his breath on my neck.  I know his eyes are red, and know my vision has switched too.  I go still in his arms when I hear the growl from him, and feel it reverberate through me as his fangs grip the skin at the back of my neck.  I see Deaton come toward me, a syringe in hand.  Then everything goes black.




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When I wake I’m lying on the examination table.  My pants and underwear have been removed. In a slight panic I look around sharply, and the wolf starts to relax when I find Derek sitting next to me.

“Just relax,” the alpha says.

“You’re awake,” Deaton remarks as he enters the room, “I’m sorry I had to sedate you, but I hope you realise it was necessary.”  I move my hands to cover myself, and he comments, “You know I should do an exam to check the changes, and see that everything is functional.”

For some reason I look to Derek, I don’t know why; probably the influence of the wolf.

“It would be best to get a proper medical check-up,” the alpha says.

“Okay, if you’ll raise your legs and put your feet here,” Deaton says, indicating two points on the table, before I reply and I find myself complying.

 

Deaton stands at the base of the table between my parted legs.  I start to feel anxious, this shouldn’t be necessary, I should have a cock and balls not a… Derek grasps my hand and I look towards him, my breathing settles back down, my heart rate slows from the rapid panicked state.  Bloody wolf.

 

“Okay,” Deaton intones, taking my attention back to him, “I’ll start by examining the area outside of your vagina.  I’ll check the size of the clitoris and the development of labia minora and majora, and the vaginal opening.”  With a gloved hand he begins pressing around my… lower area.

“Let me know if anything is uncomfortable,” the vet says.  I want to say all of this, but I know that isn’t what he means, “Okay, now I’m going to use two fingers to check the vaginal wall,” he says and I feel two fingers press inside me.  I involuntary tighten my grip on Derek’s hand, his eyes snap to the vet with a low growl.

“Was that painful?” Deaton asks.

“No, no, just surprising,” I reply; while thinking that he wasn’t as gentle as Derek was earlier.

“Almost finished with this part of the exam,” he says as he prods and runs his fingers around inside me.  “Now I’ll just take a look at the cervix, and take a couple of swabs,” he says picking up the speculum.

 

I’m not sure what he’s looking at, but eventually he finishes, closing the speculum and removing it.

“A final check,” he confirms as he wheels the ultrasound machine over, “I don’t have a transvaginal transducer, but this will let me confirm.”  He smears the cold gel over by abdomen before passing the ultrasound over it and looking at the monitor.

 

“So?” Derek asks once Deaton has cleaned up the instruments and I’m dressed again.

“Scott has a fully working uterus, ovaries, and both a female and a male prostate gland…”

“Women don’t have prostates,” Derek states.

“Scott is not a women, he’s intersex; or as most werewolves would colloquially refer to him a male bitch.  Also, the Skene's gland was renamed the female prostate in 2002.  The point is, having fully functioning female anatomy along with the remaining male anatomy, he will experience a menstrual cycle, and can get pregnant.”

What?!

 

Deaton then fills in more of what Derek had already started to tell me before we started arguing.  I’m going to go into heat and if I don’t have a heat partner, someone from the pack, it will become painful.  How painful it gets will depend on how close I’ve been with the pack before the heat starts.  Oh, and it’s going to be every full moon.  While I was taking that in he went on to say something about… androids?... having a special place in the pack as mediators in intrapack disputes because they were so close to each member of the pack, and a conduit between the betas and the alpha and their mate.

 

When Deaton finishes he suggests that Derek takes me home, as I’m clearly exhausted and have had a stressful day.  In all honesty I’m in too much shock to argue.




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When Derek pulls the Camaro into the driveway my mom’s car is still gone; she must still be at the hospital, probably pulling an extended shift.  I can pick out the mix of scents coming off Derek; the mix of emotions warring in him reflecting my own turmoil.

 

I’m happy that I know what’s wrong with me, but… I want everything to be like it was before I… before Gerard and the Kanima.  I open the car door and walk towards the house.  I hear the sound of a car door opening and closing and Derek’s footsteps following me to the house.  I turn towards him as I reach the front door.

“We need to talk,” he grumbles.  I wait for him to continue, “Not out here, inside.”

 

He follows me into the house and when we get to the living room he has my pants and underwear off me before I can protest.  He’s sitting on the couch and has me trapped over his knee before I know what’s happening.

“As your alpha you need to trust me,” Derek’s words rumble above me as his hand smacks down on mu upturned naked ass.

“Deaton told you exactly what I did,” SMACK, “But you didn’t believe me,” SMACK, “You needed to hear it from him before it could be true,” SMACK.

“No, don’t,” I cry out as I struggle against the grip of his other hand holding me down.  I feel the tingling heat all over as his hand rains down SMACK, after SMACK, on my ass.

“As alpha I need to take care of you and the rest of the pack,” SMACK, “You need to let me take care of you,” SMACK, “and trust that I know what you need.”

The moan I let free surprise me, and I know I’m grinding against Derek’s thigh as he continues to spank me.

 

Until he’s not, and he’s pulling me off his knee, the scandalised look on his face mirroring my own as the humiliation of what the wolf was making me do raises a blush over my whole body.

“Clearly I’ll need to think of some other way to punish you,” Derek says, his eyebrows still somewhere in his hairline, “And save the spankings for something else.”

“No, I don’t… I…” the words scrambled in my head and I can’t find the words to deny enjoying his spanking me.  But I know it has to be the wolf and not me that was aroused, and caused the damp patch in the denim covering Derek’s thigh.

 

“Come to the loft tomorrow, I’ll get the rest of the pack there and we can tell them you’ve re-joined the pack and why,” Derek starts.

No,” I shout, “I can’t I…” I know the wolf wants this, but, “I can’t Derek, I don’t want to be like this, I want to be like I was, and I want my life back; I want…”

“Scott,” there’s sadness in his eyes, and I know I’ve put it there again, “There’s no way to undo the changes, and the full moon is only two weeks away.  You need to reintegrate to the pack, and you need to be close with them.  Let us take care of you, and let me be your alpha…”

“I…”

“Just one beta tomorrow…”

I nod, barely moving my head, as I fight the wolf and lose.

“Okay, get some rest and come to the loft after nine,” Derek says and he heads to the door, relief clear in his eyes.

I head to my room, pants and underwear in hand.




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I don’t turn the light on as I enter my room and head towards the hamper to throwing my pants and underwear in.  The click of the switch on the bedside lamp and the sudden brightness of the room has me turning round to see Stiles’s wide eyed surprise as he stares at my crotch from the other side of my bed.

 

“Dude!  What.  The.  Fuck!” he exclaims.  I cover myself with my hands and dive to the floor to hide behind the bed.  “Is this what’s been going on with you for the past few weeks?”

“What?” I screech questioningly.

“Scotty, you don’t think I haven’t noticed that my best friend has been acting a little off, been distracted, and crap at games he usually wins?  Now I initially put it down to the whole break up with Allison…”

“We’re on a break…”

“Scott.  Really?!  Now what’s going on, and why was Derek spanking you in the living room?”

“What?!”

 

At his determined stare I cave and tell him everything; except Derek having his fingers inside me, and that I came from that, or that Deaton examined me down there in detail, or that I got wet down there again when Derek was spanking me.  I go for a shower while Stiles texts his dad to say he’s staying the night.

 

“Oh, and Deaton said I was some sort of special android, but I didn’t really get what he was talking about…” I say as I finish getting dry and pull on some boxers.  I look across at Stiles lying on the bed, his eyes wide and mouth open, staring at me again.

Deaton said you’re some sort of wolf-y sex-bot?!

 

 

Chapter Text

“What?!  No!” I yelp at Stiles question, “Who said anything about a sex-bot?”

“You did Scotty,” he replies, “You said you had to be intimate with the pack, and that Deaton said you were an android.  Though really, I hate to break it to you, but this isn’t Weird Science, and you’re not anything like Kelly Le Brock.   Obviously I’m going to need to do some research and figure out what Deaton really said to you; you clearly weren’t paying attention.”

 

All the time that Stiles is talking to me, I see his eyes rove over my hairless body.  It makes me blush in embarrassment at his scrutiny.  Then I see the glint of an idea in his eye and it makes me nervous; it’s the same kind of look he had when he suggested we go look for a dead body in the woods.

“Sooooo… the best place for me to start researching would be to get a closer look at your… at the changes that have happened,” he states with his arms stretched out gesturing towards me, and specifically the lower parts of me.

“What?!” I exclaim in shock, “Why would you need to see… what’s changed?  You’ve watched enough porn on-line to know what… it looks like.”  I don’t want to be showing Stiles… that bit of me while it isn’t how it should be.  Not that I want to show him what it looks like normally, but he has seen that.  In the shower after lacrosse.

“Scotty, Derek and Deaton have already seen what you got, or not got, down there…”

“Dude!” I feel myself blush with embarrassment at his words.

“You know it makes sense, it will help with my research,” he pleads, “You want me to have as much detail as possible to help me find out why and how, and if it can be reversed; right?  And it’s not like when we were in eighth grade and practiced kissing and…”

Bro code,” I cut him off, “We swore we’d never mention that!”

The words that get me to consent are ‘if it can be reversed’, I can’t give up hope on that being possible; even if Deaton and Derek don’t believe it is I know if there is any chance of fixing me, Stiles will find it.

 

So I’m sitting on my bed with my legs spread, and Stiles is lying on his stomach between them, staring at it.  And I know he’s aroused, I can smell it rising from him, and the wolf loves the attention.

“Fuck,” Stiles words are hot against the bare skin of… my body, “Yours is as smooth as any porn star’s, fuck.”

“Stiles,” I whine, trying to control the wolf’s instinct.  I’ve always seen Stiles as pack, he’s my best friend – more than that he’s my brother – and the wolf recognises him as pack.  Derek’s words fill me with dread about what the wolf could make me do if I don’t control it.

“Are you… leaking?” Stiles question cuts through my thoughts, “You’re looking kinda puffy and moist; do you like me looking at…”

It’s the wolf, it likes the attention,” I snap at him.

“Okay, but didn’t Derek always say that you and the wolf are one…”

“I don’t care what Derek says…”

“Fine,” Stiles shouts back, rising from the bed, “I’m going to brush my teeth.”  He closes the bathroom door behind him.

 

When he comes back out of the bathroom, he’s stripped to his boxers and undershirt; I pulled on some boxer briefs and an undershirt while he was… brushing his teeth.  He’s nervous as he walks towards the bed.

“I’m sorry I shouted,” I say.

“It’s okay,” he fleetingly smiles as he pulls back the covers and jumps into the bed beside me.  There’s a moment of awkward silence, then he says, “Scott, you know you’re gonna need to tell your mom.”

“But you’re gonna find a way to fix this?!” I wail.

“I’m gonna try, you know that,” he replies, “But if there isn’t, or if I don’t find one before the month is over… your mom might notice if she’s going through more… feminine hygiene products than she normally does at certain times of the month.”

“STILES!” I screech.

“I know,” he apologetically says, pulling me into an embrace, “And I’m going to do everything I can to find a way to undo this, you know I am, but if I can’t…”

 

He doesn’t finish the sentence, he doesn’t really have to.  My mind is in turmoil, everything that Derek, Deaton, and Stiles have said is spinning around.  I allow myself to relax against him, my arms wrapped around him with my chest against his back; the familiar comfort of his presence, and his scent, allow me to sleep.

 


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I get up when I hear my mom coming in early next morning, having had the best night’s sleep I have had in weeks.

“Mmph, five more minutes,” Stiles grumbles as I disentangle myself from his octopus tight grasp; somehow during the night I had become the little spoon.

 

When I get downstairs I see the red light blinking on the answer machine.

“I see you didn’t get my message that I was working a third shift,” my mom says from the doorway to the kitchen.  She’s standing with a bowl of cereal in hand and takes another spoonful and turns around walking back into the kitchen.

I walk into the kitchen, and she’s sitting at the table.

“I tried to calling you and I sent a text, but when I didn’t get any answer,” I can feel the tension of the anger she’s holding back, release of the fear she had, “Do you realise how worried I was?  I’m still getting used to this whole werewolf business, and that there’s hunters, and the danger that you…”

“I’m sorry,” I say taking the seat next to her, and leaning over to hug her, “I was out most of the day, and I guess I forgot to charge my phone or something, and then Stiles came over and stayed the night.”

“I found that out when I called the sheriff,” she huffs.

“Hey Mama McCall,” Stiles shouts from the doorway.

“Now I know something is wrong if Stiles is out of bed this early,” mom says as we watch him head to the cupboards.

“Oh, any Cinnamon Toast Crunch left?” he asks opening the cupboard and fetching himself a bowl.

 

“So, what’s going on?” my mom asks, looking between us.  Stiles gives me a pointed look.  But I still don’t want to tell my mom anything about what’s happened to me, especially if Stiles can find a way to fix it.

“Nothing to worry about,” I answer, and receive sharp looks from both my mom and Stiles.  “It’s just a wolf thing, I’m helping Derek and the pack out with,” I say before Stiles opens his mouth, “I’m going over to Derek’s later, it’s nothing to worry about.”

“Ah-huh,” mom looks at me like she does when she doesn’t believe me, “Derek and the pack that you’ve been avoiding since the fight with Gerard Argent?”

“Yeah.”

“Scott, you may be a werewolf, but I am still your mother, if you have problem I want to help, even if… especially if it’s something like Gerard Argent, don’t shut…”

“It’s nothing like that,” I cut her off, “It’s just some pack stuff that I’m helping Derek out with.”

“You know what, we’ll talk about this later, when you’ll give me a full and truthful answer,” she says rising form the table, “I’ve just worked twenty-four hours straight and I’m dog tired; and no jokes about Scott being a werewolf, Stiles.”

She gives me another pointed look before leaving the room.

 

Stiles is staring me down from the other side of the table.

“Maybe we should bring your dad in on this too,” I spitefully say when I hear my mom close her bedroom door upstairs, “You know, tell him about the whole werewolf thing and how you’ve been lying to him for the past few months!”  The words are out before I can stop myself, and instantly want to take them back.

“You should get showered,” Stiles says, “You said last night you were to be at Derek’s for nine.  I’ll drop you off.”

“I…”

“You should get a move on Scotty-boy,” he says rising from the table, “I’ll shower when I get home.”  He turns his back on me taking the bowls to the sink.

 


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The door to the loft slides open.  Derek is standing on the other side in just a pair of jeans, the hair on his chest glistening, damp, like the hair on his head…

“You’re early,” he says, breaking me from staring at the bead of water clinging to his chest hair as it rolls down his pecs.

“Stiles dropped me off,” I answer, Derek’s eyes dart to look behind me, “He’s headed home after staying the night at mine.”  A thought occurs to me as Derek stands aside to let me in, “Did you know Stiles was in my room last night when we were in the living room?”

“You didn’t smell him or hear his heartbeat?” Derek replies, by way of saying ‘Yes’.

“You striped me, and spanked me knowing that Stiles could hear everything?!” I growl at him as I walk into his loft.

“I’m sure all he heard was my hand hitting your ass, and you moaning like you were in heat,” Derek replies as he closes the door.  I turn to answer back, but the words die in my throat when his eyes flash and my wolf makes me submit to the alpha’s dominance.

 

“You smell like Stiles,” Derek states as he walks towards me.

“He slept over last night, after… I explained what happened to me,” I explain as Derek crowds into my space.  I keep backing up as he moves closer.

“Did you and Stiles…”

What? No; he saw my… but we just slept.”

 

I feel the backs of my calves hit the edge of the sofa and fall back onto it.  Derek is kneeling between my legs again, his hands sliding up my thighs, “Stiles is going to look for way to undo… whatever happened to me.”

Derek’s hands stop at the waistband of my pants where he just opened the button, his fingers now gripping the zip; his head snaps up to look at my face, his eyebrows raised in surprise.

“Deaton already told you there isn’t one?  You don’t believe him now either?”  He looks offended.

 

“What? No, I just… Just because no-one knows about a cure doesn’t mean that Stiles can’t look for one for me!” I respond angrily.

“No, but while he’s looking, what are you doing?”

“Huh?”

“You need a pack,” he says laying his forehead against mine, “You need to be close to your pack and intimate with them.  Otherwise come the full moon you’ll be in so much pain you’ll let stray dogs in the street fuck you just to take the pain away,” he’s shouting by the time he finishes.  But it feels like he’s afraid.

“Well, that’s not gonna happen!” I shout.  I’m sure Stiles will find a solution before then.

“Good,” Derek says, calmer than before, “’cause the full moon is less than two weeks away, and we’re running out of time.”  He slides his cheek against mine, the heat of his chest pressed against mine, and I wish… the wolf wishes, that my shirt wasn’t in the way.

 

My shirt is pulled over my head, and Derek’s lips are locked around my left nipple while his fingers tease my right; pulling gasps from me as I buck up against him.  His other hand is pulling down the zipper on my pants, and soon he’s pushing them down and his claws rip through my underwear pulling them off me completely.  My head is saying no, but my body… the wolf is so wanting the alpha’s attention.

I lay down across the sofa; Derek is on top of me, his fingers slipping into the wetness between my thighs as he strokes inside me I gasp, his teeth biting into my nipple and his hand fisting in the hair at the back of my head.

“Please,” I plead, not knowing if I want him to stop or if I need him to do more.

I feel the length of him hard against my thigh and grinding against me while his thumb tweaks and rubs against me as the fingers of his hand, wet from me, circle around my hole, pushing into my ass.

“Derek, please, fuck,” I gasp as I buck against his hand, trying for more.

“No, fucking,” he mouths against my neck where he’s nipping a trail along my collarbone, “We don’t want to get you pregnant.”

 

I thrust against his hand as the fingers in my ass rub against one bundle of nerve endings, and his thumb sends shocks of pleasure through the massaging of the… other place.  His mouth, lips, teeth, and tongue are raising bruising marks on my neck.

“Please, Derek, Alpha, I need…” whatever I need is soon forgotten as I spasm uncontrollably, crying out as I come.  Derek kneels above me, fisting at his cock, large, swollen and red as he uses the hand wet with my juices to bring himself; his seed covering my abs and chest.  As we both stop shuddering from the release, his fingers trail through the cooling residue on my skin; spreading it further over me.

 

“I hope you didn’t ask me here just to watch you two make out after sex,” Jackson’s voice thick with arousal crashes through the fogginess of my thoughts and the haze of feelings Derek’s… scenting of me has caused… in the wolf.

 

Chapter Text

 

 

I slouch back in the passenger seat of the Porsche as Jackson pulls out of the parking spot in front of Derek’s building.  I still feel humiliated that Jackson of all people was the one to see me like that – so totally under the control of the wolf and it’s desires – and that Derek didn’t let me shower; the alpha’s come still sticking to my body under my shirt, my pants pulled up over my naked ass, and the shredded remnants of my boxer briefs in Derek’s trashcan.

As I think about him seeing me spread out under Derek, painted in Derek’s come, I feel the heat of the embarrassment coil in the pit of my stomach.

 

“So,” Jackson says, taking a deep sniff of the air, his eyes flashing at the scent of sex clinging to me, his knuckles white as he grips the steering wheel and asks, “How does some shopping sound?  We can get lunch at the food court after.”

“Fine,” I answer.

“Okay, then we need to head over to your place to pack you a bag and…”

“What do I need to pack a bag for?”

“So you have a change of clothes for tomorrow morning; you’re sleeping over at my place,” the blond wolf says with a smirk.

“Who said I was sleeping over at your place?”

“Me,” he bluntly states, before I reply he continues, “Derek said that pack bonding time was important, and you were nervous about telling the whole pack at once.  Apparently our alpha doesn’t interact with real people enough to realise that we need time to adjust to things like this before sharing it with everyone on earth…”

We don’t need time Jackson, I do,” I angrily retort, “What do you know about…” my words fail me as the sad smile crosses his lips and I remember the sight of his body lying dead in the morgue; I realise that Jackson at least may understand, at least some, of what I’m going through.

“… it will be a good way for us to get to know each other better,” he continues ignoring my outburst. “I don’t think you want me to fuck you into your mattress in your bedroom with your mom across the hall hearing you moan and screaming out my name when you come so hard?”

“What?!  No!” I screech at him.

“Which is why you’re spending the night at my place,” he says, his hand resting on my knee before gliding up the inside of my thigh.  I quiver at his touch, wanting it and scared of it at the same time; the wolf basking in the attention of its pack mate.  My legs would fail me if I wasn’t already sitting down.

“I… stop… please…” I gasp.

“Whenever you ask me to,” he says removing his hand, “But, I’m pretty sure you wanting me to stop isn’t why your pants are getting so wet,” he smirks, “We should do something about that, but let’s get the shopping I want to do out the way and get some lunch,” he adds pulling into the mall parking garage.

 


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As we wander around yet another lingerie shop Jackson seems to be getting more bewildered by my less than enthusiastic response, but I’m more concerned with trying to hide the damp patch on my pants.

“I guess they’re alright,” I say as he asks me about another pair of blue lace panties.  Why my opinion about the underwear he’s buying for his girlfriend is important is beyond me.

“Well is there anything in here that you like?” he asks.

I see a pair that looks like two straps, one large strap on the right side, and three thin straps on the left joined to a full lace back.  I imagine Allison in them, and then think that it would be better if she was smooth down there.

“Those look… interesting,” I say.

“Great,” Jackson beams at me, seemingly happy that I was more involved, “We’ll get a pair of those too, in blue to match the others.”  I wonder if he’ll tell Lydia that I helped pick out the lingerie he’s buying her.

 

Jackson’s four bags of lingerie shopping are on the seat between us as we sit at the burger joint having lunch.  I notice Stiles collecting some food to take out from the counter.

“Stiles!” I call out to him.

“Hey buddy,” he greets as he walks over, “Jackson.”

“Did you find anything?” I asks him, I know it’s been less than a day, but fear the wolf getting more control of me like it seemed to do when I am with any of the pack.

“Dude, it’s been like six hours, and like I told you, I’m not even sure I will find any way to reverse it.  Despite its effects on you we don’t even know what ‘it’ is.”

“I thought Derek said there was no way to undo this?” Jackson asks.

“Yes,” Stiles answers, “And Deaton thinks there is no way to reverse it either, but I told Scotty I’d look, even though the chances of me finding anything are remote.”

“Does Derek know?” Jackson asks again, and I don’t get the pointed looks that are going on between them.

“I dropped in on him to tell him on my way here, but Scotty had already told him,” Stiles replies for some reason glaring daggers at me, “So, yes he does.  Not that I would need to tell Derek what I’m doing anyway.”

Jackson looks like he is about to say something, but his phone rings and he stalks off to answer it. 

 

I’m about to ask Stiles what the deal is between him and Jackson, and why he was dropping in on Derek, but he jumps in asking me, “So, what super fun stuff have you been up to with lizard breath?”

“Nothing much,” I say, I’m not sure if I should tell him about to tell him what happened in the car, “He’s been buying lots of fancy underwear for Lydia.”

“Why’s he buying underwear for Lydia?” Stiles asks, his face a picture of confusion.

“Because she’s his girlfriend?” I ask back, not understanding his puzzlement.

“But she’s with Allison…” he says.

“Well, they must be presents for when she gets back from France.”

Before Stiles says anything else Jackson returns.

“We need to go and let you get your pants cleaned up,” Jackson announces, “Then we can head to your house to pack your bag, and let your mom know you’re staying with me tonight.”

“I should go too,” Stiles says as he walks away, scowling at Jackson, “I need to get this tofu burger to my dad before he snags one of the deputies’ blue cheese laden burgers.”

 


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I'm trying to direct the air from the hand drier down to the wet patch on my pants when I hear Jackson behind me.

“It would be easier to just take them off.”

“Someone could come in.”

“I’ve put the ‘Cleaning in Progress’ sign outside the door and locked it,” he replies walking over to me.  I’m fumbling with the belt on my pants, my hands shaking with nerves.  His hands brush against mine as he steps behind me and begins to unfasten my belt; the only sound in the room is of the zipper being pulled down.

“Step out of your pants,” he says, and I can feel his head against mine as he whispers into my ear.  I look down and he’s holding my pants by the waistband.  He kneels down, taking my jeans with him, and I can feel his breath on my thigh.  As I step out of them it’s like I’m on autopilot, the wolf just takes over and I find myself giving in to Jackson’s suggestion; so different from Derek’s commands.  As I stand their naked from the waist down I suddenly find myself being turned around and his hands cup my ass, as my wolf takes control my legs wrap around his waist and he lifts me onto the countertop beside the nearest hand basin; my eyes switch to my wolf’s amber and he responds by leaning in to me, a low rumbling growl emanating from his chest, and flashing his wolf’s blue eyes back at me.  His gaze has no anger in it and yet my wolf instantly backs down, and I lower my gaze, baring my neck to him.

“Not gonna be much of a co-captain next semester if you back down that easy, what’s wrong?” he comments as he turns to start drying my pants.

My hands drift over my lap, covering ‘what’s wrong’.  He notices, his eyes darting down to where my hands rest over the smooth mound.

“What?  You ashamed of your honey pot?”

“My what?”

“Well I can’t exactly call it your ‘hairy heaven’, ‘bearded cave’, or ‘beaver’ now can I?  Not with you all smooth skin and hairless.”

“It’s not what I’m supposed to have!  I should have a dick, I used to have a dick!”

 

He drapes my pants over the top of the dryer as he turns to look at me.

“Yeah, you did, but something has happened and you got this instead,” he says pushing my hands out of the way as he runs a finger up along the slit.”  A whine escapes from my throat as I feel the heat begin to pool there.

“And believe me,” Jackson all but growls, his voice deepening and his eyes hooded with his own growing lust, “It’s one very sweet honey pot.”  His fingers slip down the slit, pulling the bead of slickness over my skin.  The needy whine erupts from me again, and Jackson uses his other hand to spread my legs further apart.  He pulls me to the edge of the countertop as he kneels down, his mouth hovering over where his fingers continue to tease, and his warm breath adding to the sensations flooding area.

 

“So, hot,” he breathes over my skin as his fingers breaching into me.  My head hits the mirror behind me and I catch my reflection in the mirror to the side.  My mouth hanging slack, and my eyes burning amber and wide with need.

Jackson’s tongue slides over me, lapping at the folds of skin, his fingers rubbing over the hood of flesh as his tongue pushes in and up to the nub of nerve endings.  His tongue is flicking back and forth, as his fingers continue to apply circular motion of pressure…

“Jacks…” I call out, my body bucking forward.  His hands move and grasp at my legs, his tongue rubbing over my clit, and he traps it between his teeth, gently grazing them over the sensitive flesh…

“JACKS…” I cry out as the spasms overwhelm my body.

 

When I open my eyes he’s standing over me, he leans in and I can smell his arousal, that he hasn’t touched himself.  He takes my mouth in a kiss, I can taste my wetness on his lips and tongue.

“We should get cleaned up,” he says, “Go pack your back, and then head to my place.”

My eyes drop to his groin.

All he says is, “Later, when we get home.”

 


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“So, ready to talk?” my mom asks as me and Jackson walk through the door.

“About this ‘wolf-thing’ that’s going on with you that you don’t want to talk about,” she clarifies at my non-reply.

“Your mom doesn’t know about… what’s happened?” Jackson asks looking at me with a horrified expression.

“Jackson,” mom greets him.

“Mrs McCall.”

“I guess you’re doing fine, now,” she wanly smiles at him, “And helping Scott with whatever this ‘wolf-thing’ is.”

“Yeah, no-longer a scaly lizard controlled by a psycho, my alpha’s really helping me get control of my wolf instincts and nature, and the having the pack around me helps keep me anchored,” he replies.

“And the ‘wolf-thing’?” she fixes him with a steely gaze.

“The pack are all going to be helping Scott with that,” he says, “It’s part of why Derek wants him to stay at mine tonight.”

“And neither of you are going to tell me what’s going on?” she asks, hurt tinging her voice.

“It’s not for me to tell,” Jackson says, “But I plan to help Scott through it, so will the pack.”

“Fine.”  She walks through into the kitchen.

I run upstairs to my room; Jackson’s at my heels.

 

“Dude!” I exclaim, closing my bedroom door behind Jackson.

“What?” he replies; as he places the bags he brought in from the car on my bed.

“Now she’s going to know there’s something seriously wrong with me that I’m keeping from her?”

“What?” Jackson has a puzzled look, as though he doesn’t know what I’m talking about; but given his fingers and tongue were in there earlier he knows what I’m talking about.

“You know!” I hiss at him as I point down.

“McCall, believe me there is nothing seriously wrong with your vagina; seriously nothing wrong…”

I shouldn’t have one!” I shout at him, “I should have a cock and balls!

“Everything alright up there?” my mom shouts from downstairs.  I blanch at the thought of what she might have heard.

“Fine mom,” I shout down to her.

“We’re just having a disagreement about what Scott’s problem is,” Jackson adds.  I stare at him with my mouth hanging open.

“Scott?” my mom sternly queries from the bottom of the stairs.

“I don’t have a problem.”

“And I completely agree,” Jackson smirks.

“Fine,” I hear the exasperation in her voice, “As your spending the night out I’m going out for dinner,” she shouts, “Love you.”

“Okay, see you tomorrow mom, love you too.”

 

“I’m going to grab a shower,” I say, walking to the bathroom.

“No, we’ll have a bath at my house,” Jackson says, grabbing my waist, “That way you’ll smell more like me… like pack.”  The anger I had felt melting away at his touch; the wolf fawning at his attention.

“Fine,” I relent, picking up my backpack and placing it on the bed.  I start to pick out clothes to change into, and some to put in the backpack.

“You don’t need those,” Jackson remarks, picking up my boxers and putting them back in the drawer.

“I need underwear,” I retort, hoping he doesn’t expect me to go commando; it was weird enough today after Derek ripped my boxer briefs apart this morning.

“You can wear a pair of the new stuff I bought you,” he says.

“What?  But you bought that for Lydia!”

“Why would I buy Lydia lingerie?  Even when we were together I wouldn’t buy her panties and bras.”

“But they’re girl’s underwear!”

“No, they’re your underwear.  They’ll fit you better than boxer briefs, with the pouch at the front flapping about,” Jackson says while rummaging about in one of the bags, “What about this one?” he asks, a smile spread across his face, “You said this one was interesting.”

“I…” I swallow as I feel the wolf push for me to accept the gift, telling me how important it is that a pack mate is providing for me, “I guess.”

 

Jackson quickly helps me strip out of the shirt and pants I’m wearing and is soon helping me into the Eva lace string panties.  He stands behind me as he turns me to look in the full length mirror.  His hand sliding up my chest, and his fingers lightly scraping over my erect nipples.

“Perfect,” he whispers at my ear, “Scotty, you are completely perfect.”

Looking at myself I can see I was right; these panties look good when you have no hair sticking out from them.

 

Chapter Text

 

Jackson’s fingers are teasing my nipples, and with his breath on my neck he soon had me worked up… had the wolf worked up again. 

“Let me pack your bag for you,” he asks me, his lips brushing against my ear.

I nod consent and all too soon he steps away from me as he places another pair of the panties in the bag along with a pair of pants and a shirt.  He then picked out my change of clothes and I pulled the pair of jeans he handed me on over the panties and pulled the sweatshirt over my head.  Then we were back in the car as he drives us to his house, and I’m lost in my thought of why I was so compliant with him and wanted his touch; before I realise it he’s parking his car and we’re walking into his house.

 

“My parents are out, so we have the place to ourselves,” he says over his shoulder as he leads me up the stairs towards his room.  I can feel the wolf’s excitement at being lead to this other wolf’s den; the desire to roll around and soak in his scent.

 

“I promised you a bath,” he calls out heading through another door off his bedroom, as the sound of water running into a tub filters back into the room I assume it leads to his own bathroom.  I notice that he’s left my backpack on the chair he passed heading through the door, I vaguely wonder why he was carrying it for me.  I pick up the bag and look through it to see what he’s pack for me; other than the panties, shirt and pants the bag is empty.

“Don’t I need something to sleep in?” I ask.

“I figured you’d borrow one of my shirts,” he answers, and I jump slightly having assumed he was still in the bathroom, but he’s standing right behind me and leans in against my back, his hands on my hips as he kisses my neck, “It will help with you smelling more like… pack.  Your bath is ready.”  I turn around to face him and find myself caught in his embrace, “Let’s get stripped and in the tub; you’ve wanted our alpha’s come washed off you all day.”

“Yeah, at first it was just sticky, now it’s kinda itchy and flaky,” I say; stepping out of his arms I turn and start to pull the sweatshirt over my head.  I manage to get tangled in the arms and hood as I get lost in the scent as I drag the top over my head; Derek’s scent fills my nostrils and I inhale deeply, my head swimming in the musk of alpha, of my alpha a voice in my head tells me.

 

I fall against naked skin; the sweatshirt is pulled off my head and I’m staring into Jackson’s wolf blue eyes as he throws the top onto the chair with my bag.  I know my own eyes have also shifted from the tint I see him through, as I look down from Jackson’s face I realise that he’s completely naked.  It shocks me out of my scent fuelled stupor.

“What…Why are you naked?”

“I’m not getting the tub with clothes on,” he replies.

“I tho… I thought I was,” I stutter, “Getting in the tub I mean, not with clothes on.”

“Well you better finish getting undressed then, preferably before the water gets cold.  I did say we’d have a bath when we got here.”

“Together?”

“Yes,” his brow creases as he replies, “Derek said to take care of you, and I plan to do just that.”

 

I convince myself that it's not that different from the locker room at school when we shower after lacrosse.  And he’s seen me naked already, so…

 

I’m wrong.

 

The huge free standing tub is filled with steaming water, and he’s placed lighted tea-light candles around the steam filled bathroom.

“Why are there candles lit around the room?” I ask him.

“I… I thought they’d help you… us… help us… relax.  Lydia always said that having a hot, candle-lit, bath always helped her unwind; I figured we could try it, and that having the bath together would be intimate, like Derek says you need from the pack.  Right?”

“Oh,” I realise he must be missing Lydia and that candles are his way coping, “Yeah, I guess.”

 

I climb into the tub, and Jackson climbs in behind me; manoeuvring us until I’m sitting between his legs, my back against his chest.  The water sloshes over the edge of the tub onto the tiled floor.  I panic about flooding his parents’ house, and move to climb back out.

“Don’t worry, the floor slants slightly towards the drain of the shower,” he says pulling me back against him.

 

The warmth of the water and the dim light from the candles soon have me relaxing back against him.  His arms rest against me, one lying against my abs, the other wrapped around my chest as his fingers lightly brush against my hardening nipples.  My head falls back against his shoulder.  The heat is pulling his scent out of his skin, filling the steam around me with it; in my relaxed state I breathe deeply of it, and it’s familiar and comforting.

“You smell of Derek,” I sleepily say.

“Not the same way you smell of Derek,” Jackson snorts, his fingers continue to brush and tease at my nipples; building a need deep in me.

“Hmm?” I squirm back against him and feel his hardness pressing at my back, “Please,” I ask.

“Tell me what you need Scotty,” he mouths against my ear, “Pack is family, pack looks after pack, and takes care of each other.  I’m here for you, just tell me what you need.”

 

I don’t know what I need; what my wolf needs.  I just need.  I grab one of his hands and lower it down my body, seeking that feeling he created in me before.

“No baby, not here,” he says pulling back from me, I whine in distress at the loss of contact, then his arms are pulling me from the water, “Let’s get you dry and then we’ll take care of you real good, on the bed, where you’ll be comfortable.”

 




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Jackson is in the bathroom cleaning up, and putting out the candles.  I’m in the middle of his bed, sitting back against the headboard with a glass of water in my hands.  Feeling clear headed after Jackson got me out of the tub and out of the scent soaked steam filled bathroom.

 

He was patting my skin dry with the softest, fluffiest towel, I had ever felt when I seemed to get back in my own head. 

“I can dry myself!” I snapped at him, yanking the towel from his hands. 

“Thirty seconds ago you couldn’t stand on your own, I wasn’t gonna let you fall and brain yourself dumber,” he shot back, but he still looked hurt and offended.  He grabbed the other towel and started drying himself as he headed into the bathroom; he was still wet and had been taking care of me before drying himself.

He came back with the glass of cold water shortly after; he was naked with no sign of the towel he had been drying himself with.

“Towel,” he demands with his hand held out.

“But, I need something to cover my… self with,” I protest, “I don’t have any…”

“You’re here because you need to be close and intimate with the pack, covering yourself up isn’t gonna help with that,” he states, pointedly giving me a cold stare.  I handed him the towel, covering myself with my hands when his gaze flicks below my waist.

“You should drink the water; you don’t want to be dehydrated,” he says going backing to the bathroom.

 

So, I’m sitting in the middle of his bed, with a pillow covering my… covering me as I sip at the water trying to figure out why I acted like I did in the bath.

“Why was I acting like that?” I whisper to myself.

“I’m guessing the hit of Derek’s scent you got from your sweatshirt,” Jackson says as he sits at the bottom corner of his own bed, “And you said my scent reminded you of him.  So you were acting on instinct.”

“I don’t like when the wolf takes over,” I say sharply, “I like to be in control of myself.”

“I can relate to that,” Jackson says, the sadness and distress clear in his voice. 

“I…” Of course Jackson would relate to that, after being controlled by both Matt and Gerard when he was a Kanima; and I don’t know how to respond.

“It’s fine,” he says, “But from what Derek said on the full moon you are gonna be a slave to the need to get fucked unless we take care of you before then.  So what do want to do?”

“I guess we need to… do stuff.”

Jackson snorts in reply, climbing onto the bed on all fours he stalks his way up until he’s straddling me.  His head next to mine and his mouth over my ear.

“I didn’t ask what we need to do McCall; I want to know what Scotty wants to have done to him,” he growls low and I shiver at the heat I feel pooling in me.

“So, what do you want to do Scott?” he whispers as his nose brushes against the tip of my ear; he doesn’t move an inch, but I don’t want to give into the wolf again, and I’m worried of what will happen…

“We won’t do anything you don’t want to Scott,” Jackson says clearly.

“Can we just cuddle for now?”

“Of course we can,” he takes the glass from my hand and places it on the side table.  Laying behind me he spoons against my back.

 

I lay there in his arms feeling both safe and trapped.

 




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I jerk awake from the dream, unsure when I fell asleep.  I can feel Jackson’s hard cock pressed against my back, his arms still wrapped around me, holding me to him.

“Must have been a nice dream you were having,” he growls against my neck, nuzzling at the nape, “You were moaning so loudly, and have gotten so wet I can smell it with my nose buried between the pillow and the back of your head.”

“I don’t remember it,” I lie.

“Scotty,” his voice is thick against back of my ear, “We both know that isn’t true.  You should tell me what’s gotten you so turned on; maybe we can make it a reality…”

I try to hold back the whine in my throat, and fail.

 

“McCall,” Jackson says without a trace of the horniness that was there moments ago, “You know I’m trying to help you here, right?”

“Right?” he asks again when I don’t reply.  I merely nod in agreement.

“Okay, so come on; talk to me, I’m not gonna judge.  There’s nothing you can tell me that will make me think less of you.  Help me to help you, what was your wet dream about?”

“You,” I say, trying not to pout about admitting what my wolf desires, “And Derek, and what we’ve done.”

“Like?” he asks, his fingers skimming over the folds, making my hips involuntary press forward in search of more contact.  He smirks at that.  “Na-ah, you need to tell me more, babe.”

“When Derek had his fingers in me, and was rubbing them against…” I feel myself clench at the memory, more wetness leaking over my thighs.

“What was Derek rubbing his fingers against?” Jackson breathily asks.

“Rubbing against the clitoris…”

“Against what?” he asks, his fingers ghosting over me but never giving the pressure I want; that I need to find the release.

“Against the…”

“The?”

“Against my clitoris, it felt so good when he rubbed his fingers against it, and…”

“Show me,” he demands, his fingers pulling away from the area as I push forward chasing them with a needy whine.

“Nooo…” I whine at the idea of touching myself there, I haven’t since I woke and found the changes, “I can’t… I haven’t… please Jacks, please I need…”

“Please Scotty,” he pleads, moving us down the bed, “See,” he says, moving us to our knees, “We can watch in the mirror.”

I can see myself, my eyes yellow to his blue, his hands roaming over my chest and thighs, but not touching me where I need him to; where the glistening fluids are slowly leaking.  I feel him place his hand on mine, and slowly he glides it down my body until my fingers are over the wet folds of the lips; my head falls back onto his shoulder, my teeth bite into my lip as I press inside myself.

“So hot Scotty, look at yourself as you show me how Derek rubbed you there…”

I open my eyes and look at the mirror; I want to turn my head and look into his eyes, I want to see the pleasure I’m feeling reflected in him, but I keep my eyes down, not wanting to see my face, to acknowledge that it’s me leaning back against Jackson with two fingers in my wet pussy rubbing them back and forth along my clit; my body shuddering with the pleasure it causes to course through me.

“Look at you, so sexy, so horny, and needy,” Jackson whispers against my neck, “Your clit’s twice the size it was, it must be about two inches.  I haven’t known any girl have one that size when they were as aroused as you are Scotty.”

His hands slide up my body and his fingers pinch and pull at my nipples as I stroke my clit, my fingers wet with my juices and my body vibrating with the need to come.  I push back against him and feel his hardness press against the crack of my ass.

“Please, Jacks, please, I need…”

“Tell me what you need, babe…”

“Fuck!” I scream as the sensation rocks through me.

“I can’t fuck your pussy babe, I want to so much, but our alpha said not to risk getting you pregnant… I can’t disobey Derek’s order.”

God, the thought of him in me is…

“Please…” I whine as I continue to frig myself with my fingers, “Please Jacks, I need you…”  The deep aggressive growl that comes from him silences me.

 

His fingers join mine briefly as he soaks, then I feel him rubbing his slicked fingers against my other hole; teasing it open.  His fingers breach inside and stretch me.  I cry out at the burn as he slides them in and out.

“Need to get you relaxed back here Scotty, I don’t want to hurt you,” I hear him say, and soon I’m pushing back on his fingers as I rub myself.  I’m no longer looking in the mirror; I’m on my knees, leaning forward down the bed with one hand grasping the covers, the other frigging my pussy while I look over my shoulder as Jackson lines his cock against my ass and pushes in.

 

Jackson slides a hand around me and presses something against the hand I’m using to press and massage my clit.

“I got you something else,” he says as he pushes the long smooth item in beside my fingers.  Against my hand I feel him turn something and the thing vibrates inside me.  He pulls it back and forth in time with his hips as I’m fucked in both holes.  I come from the sensation of both my prostate being stimulated from Jackson’s cock hitting it relentlessly, and the vibrator pressed against my clit.

 

Jackson holds the vibrator in place, and my orgasm keeps rolling through me as he continues to fuck my ass.  I look in the mirror and see myself, glassy eyed, sweat dripping from my hair, and mouth hanging slack.  I’m gripping on to the bed sheets, my ass raised and legs spread either side of Jackson as his hips slap against me.  I can’t think, I can’t speak; there is just a constant whining moan from my lips as I come again and again.

 

I feel his cock thicken at the base.

“Scotty…if…you…want…me…to…knot…you…tell…me…or…I’m…pulling…out…” he says between rapidly shortening thrusts.  I don’t want him to stop, everything feels so good.  I can’t let him pull out, don’t want him to. I can feel my claws forming as I grab Jacksons ass, I can see his eye’s flare blue as my claws dig in, pulling him deeper into me as his knot begins to form.

As his knot stretches me and sinks inside, my body tightens as I spasm through another orgasm.

 

I come to under the covers.  The vibrator no longer in me, but Jackson spooned against my back, still filling my ass with his cock and his come, his knot still tying us together.

“Sleep,” he nuzzles against my neck, and I’m too exhausted to do anything else.

 




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I wake some time later.  Jackson is asleep behind me, his arm slung loosely over me.

I can’t help but worry at what my wolf has made me do.  When I was with Derek, and now with Jackson, I lost control to the wolf and gave in and acted on instinct.  I realise now that will never happen if I’m around the pack.  I can’t stay here with Jackson; I can’t be with any of the rest of the pack or I will lose control to the wolf every time.  I didn’t want any of this, the wolf did.  I want my life back the way it was.

I slip out of the bed, making sure not to wake Jackson.  I start to pull on my pants, before seeing the panties Jackson had bought me the day before. Before a I change my mind I step out of my pants before pulling on my panties and the rest of the change of clothes and flee.

 

Chapter Text

 

 

My mom’s car was still outside the house when I got back.  It was gone after eight in the morning, I remembered that she had worked a triple shift and has the day off, so I crept through the front door and up the stairs; cringing at each creak of the steps as I tried not to make any noise.  I slowly pushed the door to my bedroom open, and stopped as I heard cough behind me as my mom cleared her throat.

 

"Are you ready to talk yet?” she asks in no-nonsense manner, “I need you tell me what is going on with you…”

“Mom…”

“No, Scott,” she stops me, “No more lies.  You told me that you were helping the pack with a ‘wolf-thing’, and yesterday Jackson said the pack were helping you with whatever this ‘wolf-thing’ is.  I know you need your privacy, but you’re still my son and I’m worried that something is very wrong,” she says walking into my room, “I need you to talk to me, to tell me what this wolf-thing is, to let me help, and tell me how I can help; and…  what it has to do with the underwear I found in your drawer when I was putting the laundry away.”  She sits on my bed and looks at me expectantly.

 

“Underwear?” I ask walking into the room.

“Yes,” she replies, “The blue lace panties, several pairs of blue lace, silk, and satin panties.”

“In my…”

“Yes Scott, with the rest of your underwear; now tell me what’s going on with you, and why you have blue panties with your boxers.”

“I thought Jackson was buying them for Lydia…”

“Then why are they in your drawer?”

I can see the fear in her eyes, I didn’t want her to worry, I didn’t want to burden her with this after everything else; but I also see the resolute fixed look in her eye and the rigid straight backed way she’s sitting and I know that my mom is not going to take any crap.  I want to run rather than talk, but I don’t want to cause her any more worry.  I feel the tears start at the corner of my eyes and I can’t stop them.

 

“What’s going on with me?  You really wanna know?  Well, I’m pretty much convinced that I’m totally out of my freaking mind,” I practically yell, and then I tell her – almost – everything.

 

“So,” mom starts slowly, “Let me get this straight… two days ago you woke up to discover that, apart from on your head, all of your hair had fallen out of their follicles, and you have a va…”

“Yes!” I interrupt her not wanting to hear my mom talk about that part of my body.

“And so you went to Derek Hale, the alpha werewolf you’ve been avoiding since the Kanima and Gerard Argent incidents, who said you’ve become this special sort of werewolf?”

“Yes,” I wasn’t telling my mom that he said I was the pack’s bitch.

“And you didn’t believe him so he took you to see Deaton, who told you the same thing?”

“Yes.”

“And Deaton ran some tests and said you were a robot?” her voice rises in pitch questioningly over the last words.

“Some sort of android,” I answer.

“And this special werewolf you’ve become needs to be close to the pack, so that when you go into ‘heat’ it’s not as bad as it could be; which is why you were staying over at Jackson Whittemore’s last night?”

“Yeah; that’s what everyone tells me,” I sigh, and in a rush of words say, “But I don’t want to be this special werewolf, I want to go back to the werewolf I was, and Stiles is going to find a way to undo it…” my words coming to a halt as the door to my bedroom flies open.

 

“No,” Stiles says tripping over himself as he hangs on to the door handle, “That’s not what I said.”

“Stiles?” my mom and I shout at the same time.

“How did you get in?” my mom asks.

“Through the front door,” Stiles smiles as her.

“It was locked,” she replies as I say, “I locked it when I came in.”

“I used my key,” Stiles holds up the front door key in reply.

“When did… you know what never mind,” she says exasperatedly, “What’s not what you said?”

 

“I didn’t say I was going to find a way to reverse…” he waves his hands about in my direction, “the changes; I said I was going to try, but that I might not be able to, especially given Deaton and Derek both say there is no way to undo… the changes.”

“And there isn’t?” mom asks him.  I look at him fearing what he’s going to say.

“It doesn’t… the thing is…”

But you’ve only been looking for a day!” I exclaim, leaping from the bed, “You can’t give up!

 

“Scott!” the admonishing tone in my mom’s voice making me feel ashamed for shouting at Stiles.

“I’ve already got Derek pissed at me,” Stiles starts saying.

“Language,” my mom warns Stiles.

“I don’t need you growling at me too,” he finishes griping at me.

“Derek’s pi… angry that there’s no cure,” I don’t want to examine why that upsets me.

“No,” Stiles corrects me, “Derek’s not happy that I spent the night at Uncle Bad-Touch going through the Hale family archives, and then digging up Gerard’s grave with Isaac to make sure he really was dead.”

“You did what?!” my mom cries out.

“It’s fine,” Stiles brushes off the concern, “Isaac used to work at the graveyard so we were able to fill it all back in properly before we went back to the loft.”

 

My stomach decides at that point to make it know that it’s empty, the rumbling sound emanating from it loud and clear.

“Why don’t we continue this in the kitchen,” my mom says looking at me.

 



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“So,” Stiles says between another mouthful of cereal, “Yesterday when Scotty was getting some pack time with Jackson, oh, I should totally call Derek and let him know you are here and safe,” he suddenly veers of topic.   I hope my mom doesn’t pick up on what ‘pack time’ Stiles means with the way he says it, but from the look she gives me I think she does, “Apparently Jackson was freaking out when he woke up and you weren’t there, I told Derek I’d check here after I’d showered as you weren’t answering your phone.”  Stiles taps a text out on his phone and sends it.

“Do we need to have another talk with the pamphlets from the clinic?” she asks me, confirming that she did pick up on Stiles emphasis.  I shake my head ‘no’.

“Good,” she replies, “I don’t want my son starring in some MTV show because some other werewolf has gotten him pregnant.  You had enough sense to use protection with Allison…”  I open my mouth to reply, but my mom continues, “Oh, don’t look so shocked, do you really think I didn’t know when I found the open packet of condoms in your room?”

 I need to shift the attention from me and I suddenly realise Stiles said he had gone back to the loft with Isaac, and he told Derek he come here after he showered.  He was showering at Derek’s, and when did he start caring about Derek being pissed at him.

“Why were you showering at Derek’s?” I ask him when he’s finished sending the text message.

“Because Isaac and I were covered in mud from digging up Gerard’s grave to make sure he was in there,” he replies looking at me as if it was obvious, “And boy am I glad I don’t have werewolf senses, the smell off a decomposing rotting corpse is… I almost felt sorry for Isaac.”

“But…” I go to ask why he didn’t just shower at home, but he cuts me off.

 

“And it’s not like I wanted to head home covered in mud where my father, the Sheriff, could start asking question I couldn’t answer; it’s not like I like lying to him about what’s really going on in this town, so I’d rather avoid having to.  Anyway, as I saying while you were with Jackson having…”

“I think we all know by now what he was having with Jackson,” my mom intervenes.

“Right…” Stiles grimaces at me and mouths ‘sorry’, “So, I went to talk to Deaton before meeting Uncle Bad-Touch, and tried to get some answers.  First he didn’t call you an android, he said you were gynandroid.”

“Deaton told you about Scott’s…?”

“He figured I should know, he’s been training me to handle my ‘spark’ and to be able to become a pack emissary after all, so I need to know about this sort of stuff.  So, gynandroid, I had to look that up…”

“It means hermaphrodite, or a person who does not fit into either traditional male or female gender roles or stereotypes, but leans towards the female end of the balance” my mom says; Stiles and I both look at her, “What?” she asks, “I am a nurse, I have medical training.”

“Right, so,” Stiles continues before I can protest that I am a guy and don’t lean towards the female, “Deaton also told me that he’d only ever heard of this, never seen or known of it, and that every case had been during the bitten wolf’s first change.”

“Yeah, I remember something about him saying that it usually happened with the first change,” I add.

No, Scotty, not usually, only ever.  Every case he had heard of, because he had never seen one before; and every one had been during their first full moon.  And it is only ever bitten wolves.”

“I don’t get it,” I say; confused by what Stiles is telling me.

“Neither did I,” he says, “That’s why I went to see Peter and ask to look at the Hale bestiary, which Derek didn’t appreciate.”

“Why?”

“Because Peter isn’t part of the pack, and Derek doesn’t want him knowing anything about you… changing.”  Before I can ask anything else Stiles continues, “So, in there I found that all born werewolves are binary gendered, male or female, there are no transgendered or third sex children born werewolves.  If a transgendered human is bitten, and survives the bite, during their first full moon they transition to the sex they identify as.  The only known cases of intersex werewolves have been bitten werewolves where the person bitten didn’t identify as either male or female; and their change was always the first full moon after they were bitten.”

“But what does this mean?” I ask, still confused about what Stiles is saying.

“It means Deaton was wrong, you weren’t evolving.  Somehow, at the new moon, you went through a shift as if it was your first full moon shift.  It has to be that someone cursed you.”

 

“Gerard!” I exclaim, “So, if you know it’s a curse then…”

“And this is where Deaton was right.  We don’t know exactly what the curse is, or what it was supposed to do.  If we try to undo it we could make things worse, and if it was his own death that fuelled the curse then it might be impossible to undo.”

“That’s why you were digging up Gerard,” my mom says to Stiles, “To check that he really was dead.”

“Yeah,” Stiles sighs, “If he had been alive we could have tracked him down to make him tell us what the curse was so we could reverse it, but he must have cursed Scott as he was dying so his death added extra power to the curse and triggered the changes to start happening, but we don’t know what he intended to happen, only the effect it’s had.  Deaton thinks all of this is just speculation.”

“This is all speculation…” my mom starts to say.

“But it fits with the known facts,” Stiles replies.

“Except it doesn’t make sense,” my mom firmly states, “If the curse was to make him go through his first change again, why was the change different?  Why didn’t he just become a werewolf like he did on his first change?  Why is he now a gynandroid?”

“That’s why we don’t have a way to undo it,” Stiles answers, “We don’t know what’s different.  I'm still looking for some way to undo this, but, if I’m right and it is Scott’s first shift happening again, then… well the full moon is still a couple of weeks away, and Derek says the only cure for a bitten werewolf he’d ever heard of was to kill the alpha that bite you before your first shift on the first full moon.  Of course he doesn’t know if that’s true, and even if it is we don’t know that it would work with Peter not being the alpha anymore; but at least we’d be rid of zombie wolf.”

 

I sit there stunned, my mom looks horrified.

 

“I don’t want this; I don’t like being like this, my wolf likes being this werewolf for the pack I don’t.  I want to be like I was before; I don’t want my wolf taking control… but I can’t kill Peter on a slim chance that it would turn me back…” my words a barely audible; the tears threatening to fall.  I feel like I’m in some surreal dream and that I just need to wake up.

“You were going to kill him on the slim chance that it would work before,” Stiles says wide-eyed like he can’t believe what I’m saying, “You were pissed off at Derek for killing him instead and taking your chance of being human again away!  The chances of it working haven’t changed, there still slim to none…”

“Stiles!” my mom interrupts his tirade, “That’s enough, Scott isn’t killing anyone, especially for some ‘cure’ that most likely isn’t going to work.”  She looks down at the table, her mind processing everything that Stiles and I have said; some of it that I can’t even start to wrap my head around.  “Okay, Scott, you said that Deaton performed tests on you?”

“Yeah,” I nod my head, “He examined me and…”

“Fine.  I want to talk to him and see exactly what we’re dealing with, maybe gender reassignment surgery…”  I clamp down on a whine of terror at the thought.

“No,” Stiles cuts her off, “Sorry mama McCall, but I asked Deaton and Derek about that option.  Apparently werewolf healing kicks in and undoes the changes created by the surgery.  Werewolves can’t even get a nose job or breast enlargement, or anything like that.  Their healing just starts to undo everything and puts things back as they were.”

“I still want to talk to Deaton,” mom says looking at Stiles, “I want to see what his examinations of my son show; I want answers, not more questions.”

 



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When my mom had said she wanted to see what Deaton’s examination of me had shown, I thought she meant she’d look at the results he had recorded.  I was wrong.

 

We didn’t go to Deaton’s clinic to meet with him, not that I wanted to go anywhere other than my bed and curl into a ball to hide, instead my mom had made arrangements to use one of the examination rooms at the hospital, and Deaton was meeting us there.  When we got there Deaton was already waiting.  So was Derek.

 

“What’s he doing here?” I ask my mom.

“He’s paying for the use of the facilities,” she replies.

“For what?”

“A better examination than a vet can perform on you at his clinic.”

Reluctantly I follow my mom into the room, each step feeling heavy as I move more on auto-pilot than actually thinking about what’s going on, my eyes flick to and from my… the alpha as I pass Derek; he doesn’t enter the room, but takes the seat outside the room to wait.

 

Only Deaton and my mom are in the room with me.  As I look around the room I see the examination table in the corner.  It’s more like a big reclining chair, with two separate foot rests.  My mom repositions the back of the chair so it’s at a forty-five degree angle.

 

“Okay sweetie, you need to disrobe from the waist down and put this drape on,” she says handing me the hospital gown; I can feel the nervousness and embarrassment leaking from her.

Automatically I slip off my sneakers and pull my pants down, folding them to put on the chair.  When I see my mom staring at my underwear I look down and realise I’m wearing the pair of blue lace panties that Jackson had put in the bag with the change of clothes.

“They’re one of the pairs Jackson bought me,” I say without thinking.

“Very nice, but I need you to take them off so Deaton can… start,” my mom says turning to talk to Deaton.

I feel the heat of embarrassment as I slip off my panties, pull on the gown to cover myself before my mom sees anything more, though she is studiously avoiding looking in my direction, and I sit in the chair.

 

“I need you to lie back with your knees bent and feet placed in stirrups,” my mom says her eyes fixed firmly on my own, “Deaton is going to gently insert this transducer into your… into your vagina and rest it against the cervix.  This will give clearer images than those taken with the pelvic exam he did before, so when we look at the results, along with the ones Deaton already has we’ll have a better understanding of what’s happened.  It will only be about ten to fifteen minutes.”

 

As I redden with humiliation my nerves start to get the better of me, and a part of me wishes that my… the alpha was with me.  A small whine escapes my throat and before I know it the door is opened and Derek is beside me.  I grab his hand and he grips back tightly, his other hand resting in my hair and feel the worry drain away.  I see the look my mom gives Derek, and how her gaze catches that he’s holding my hand, but she doesn’t say anything.  I’m thankful for that, as I feel self-conscious enough about what’s happening and how easily I was calmed by Derek’s presence.

 

With the examination over I’m getting dressed again as they discuss what the results mean.  I should pay more attention, this affects me, but they aren’t even talking to me; they’re just talking among themselves.  I catch parts of what Deaton is saying to my mom.

 

“His clitoris is at least one inch long… the urethral opening is through the clitoral glans… It is in effect still a penis… the testes have receded… so what is producing the testosterone?... still capable of producing ejaculate, but it would not contain any spermatozoa… the labia and vagina walls are all perfectly formed… he now has a fully functioning set of ovaries… the uterus and cervix look good… fully capable of conceiving and giving birth… menstrual cycle is likely to follow the lunar cycle as will his heats…”

 

“Well, I’ll need to arrange birth control,” my mom says, and my mind finally focuses on their conversation.

“Normal contraceptive pills won’t be affective with his werewolf…” Deaton starts to say, but my mom cuts him off stating, “Well there are other forms of contraception…”

“Werewolves can’t use condoms,” Derek quietly adds, not looking my mom in the eye, “We… Our… They may stretch quite a bit, but our knots tend to cause them to tear with…”

“If you think you’re getting my teenage son pregnant during his… during the next full moon, or before then, you’re very much mistaken, there has to be some form of birth control that…”

 

I’ll just stay clear of the pack!” I scream at them.  All of them talking about me and making decisions for me as if I wasn’t even there.  It’s just like when my wolf takes over and takes the decisions from me.

“Scott, you need a pack, you need an alpha,” Derek says

“Scott, honey, we…” my mom starts to say at the same time.

“No, all of you arguing about what’s best for me, it’s my body it’s happening to, and it’s my choice.”

 

I turn and run out the door, through the corridor and out of the building.

 

Chapter Text

 

Part-1 -- Chapter-07

 

I was running through the car park when I came to a stop as Stiles’s jeep screeched to halt in front of me.

“Dude!” he called to me as he leaned out of the driver side window.

 

I jumped in the passenger side.

“Please, just get me out of here,” I pleaded with him as I pulled the door closed behind me.

“What’s up buddy?”

“Please, Stiles just drive.”

“Okay,” he says as starts to drive us out of the parking lot, “Anywhere in particular?  You want me to drive you home?”

“No!” I bark, “No, sorry, I… I don’t want to go home, not yet, can we go to your house?”

“Sure,” he says, glancing over at me.  I can tell he’s worried, wondering what’s wrong with me, and he asks, “You wanna talk about it?”

I whine in reply; I can’t.

“Hey, it’s okay buddy,” he places one hand on the back of my neck, squeezing reassuringly, just like Derek does, and I feel some of the fear and tension leave me, “We don’t have to talk about it until you want to; whatever it is you know I’m here for you right?  You know I got your back?”

“Yeah, thanks bro; I just need to get my head together, okay?”

“Okay.”

We drive the rest of the way to his in silence.

 



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His dad’s cruiser is gone when we get there, and we head up to his room.

 

I feel kind of torn when we get in the room and I settle back on his bed like I normally do.  Part of me glad to be surrounded by Stiles’s scent and part of me, my wolf, missing the scent of Derek and the connection to the pack.  Derek’s scent is still there, an undercurrent to Stiles’, and I assume that it’s because Stiles showered at Derek’s this morning.

 

“So,” Stiles says as he taps away on his phone sitting beside me on his bed, “I’ve texted your mom and Derek to let them know you’re safe, alive and with me.”

“What?! Why?”

“Because they both sent me a text asking if I’d seen you, and they both were worried about you.”

“Oh,” I reply, “They’re not coming here are they?” the worry leaking into my voice as I ask, “I don’t want to…”

“It’s okay, I said you needed some time,” he placates me, his hands held up as if to calm a startled animal, “That whatever was said at the hospital, you needed time to work through, on your own.”

“Thanks,” I rest back against the wall, my legs dangling off the edge of his single bed.

 

We sit in silence, but I can feel Stiles fidget beside me; his legs bouncing and his fingers tapping.  I turn my head and look at him and realise something I didn’t earlier.

“Is that one of Derek’s shirts?”  Stiles looks down at himself as I ask, his eyes going wide.

“I… I must have put it on after I showered at his place…”

“Take it off!” I shout; jumping from the bed.

“What?! Why?” Stiles asks as he scrambles off the bed after me.

“’cause I don’t trust myself… I mean I don’t trust what my wolf might make me do when I catch his scent.  I keep losing control when I catch the pack’s scent, especially Derek’s, my wolf more easily takes over and I don’t know what I might do…”

“Okay, here, I’ll take it off and put on one of my shirts,” he says, his stomach bare as he stretches up and pulls the Henley over his head.

“No, here, wear mine,” I say taking off my shirt and leaving me in my undershirt, “My scent covering his should help.”

“Fine,” he grumbles, pulling on my shirt, Derek’s consigned to the laundry pile in the bottom of Stiles’s closet.

 

We sit back down for only a few minutes before Stiles starts to fidget again.

“So,” he says, “Wanna talk about the hospital visit with your mom, and what’s got you so freaked out?”

“No,” I let my head fall back against the wall and a whine escapes.

“Okay,” he drawls out, “We can play some Call of Duty…”

“Everything’s wrong,” I interrupt him, suddenly feeling the need to vent.  I’m  staring at the ceiling, but my gaze turns to my feet before I continue, “They were talking about me as if I wasn’t even there, all of them, making decisions and deciding what was best for me without even asking me.  Everybody acting like all I can do is roll over and take it from everyone in the pack, like I just have to give in to what I want… I mean what my wolf wants.”

“What were they deciding for you?”

“Everything, that I had to go on birth control, and that I needed a pack, and I needed an alpha; I already have a pack, you and Allison are my pack…”

“Allison’s in France, with Lydia, and neither Allison or I are werewolves Scotty,” Stiles interrupts, “Also, I think for it to be counted as a pack you need an alpha and three betas, so I don’t think just the two of us, you and me, is enough…”

“But…”

And, given when you’re in heat remaining chaste is not an option, is birth control really a bad idea?”

 

Why are you on their side?!” I snap at him, as everything he’s saying seems to be agreeing that they should decide for me, “I thought you said you’d have my back?

“Scotty, I am on your side, they should be explaining everything to you and letting you decide what happens to your body.  All I’m saying is you do need a pack to help you…” he briefly pauses quickly marshalling his thoughts, “From what I’ve read in the bestiary I copied from Peter you’re not really gonna have a choice come the full moon…”

NO!  I won’t let my wolf…

“That’s the point Scott, it is your wolf, you.  Derek has been telling you that this whole time; the wolf and you are one in the same.  It’s your base desires, your primal instinct that is the wolf.  It’s like psych-101, the wolf is your id, the ‘you’ that is fighting it is your superego, and you’re not letting your ego referee the match.”

“No, it’s not, I don’t want to want those things!”

“Yes, Scotty, I think you do; you’re forgetting I’ve seen the porn you looked at, I helped you clean out your browser history.”

“No, I told you I didn’t know how that stuff got there…”

“Bro! I don’t need your wolfy senses to know that’s a lie,” he snaps at me, and I can see that he is just as angry and frustrated as me; his fists clenching and unclenching, when he strikes down at the air in front of him, the snarl on his lips.  “Look,” he continues more calmly, “You don’t have a pack that can help get you through a heat, and from what I read in the bestiary, I don’t want you to go through that kind of pain; I love you bro, you’re my brother, but if you don’t have a pack you are going…”

No!” I growl at him, “I don’t need them deciding stuff for me and I don’t need them to help me through this.  Deaton thought I didn’t need an alpha, he thought I was strong enough to not become an omega even without one… I’m not going to give in, I’m going to prove to you all that I can get past this full moon without the pack.”

 

I turn and throwing open his window jump down to the ground and run home.  I ignore Stiles shouting my name behind me.

 



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When I get home and walk through the front door I hear my mom crying in the kitchen.

“Mom?!” I call out as I rush to check what is wrong.

 

Stepping into the kitchen I see her sitting on one of the chairs around the table, wiping the tears from her eyes.

“Mom, what’s wrong?” I ask rushing to her and kneeling by the side.

“Nothing’s wrong,” she replies, pulling me into a hug, but I hear it in her heartbeat, “I’m just glad you’re home safe.”

“Mom,” I plead, giving her what Stiles always calls my puppy dog eyes, “I know something is wrong, I can hear it when someone lies, it’s…”

“Let me guess,” she interrupts, sounding annoyed, “It’s a werewolf thing.”  She pulls back from me, sitting against the back of the chair.  I can see the wetness of her tears in her eyes and streaking her cheeks, the lines crossing her brow, and the fear.

“Mom…”

“I… I only had since the… incident… with the Daehler kid, at the sheriff’s station to get used to the idea that werewolves exist, and that my son is one.  And I thought I was doing a good job of that.  I… I thought I had a handle on everything, and then this… change comes a long out of left field and I don’t know what to think… what to feel…”

 

“You think I’m a freak and a monster…?” the words are out my mouth before I even think I about them.  I just know that my mom doesn’t love me anymore, that she hates what I’ve become and it hurts.

What?!” she shouts at me, “NO!

“But…”

“No, Scott,” she says, her hands grabbing me by my shoulder, “No you look at me and listen very carefully using that werewolf hearing of yours,” I fearfully look up at her eyes, “You may be a werewolf, but you are not a monster, and no matter what has changed about you, you are not a freak.  I might need some time to get used to this… probably more time than you’re being allowed, but no matter what, I will be there to support you.  You are my son.  No matter what has happened, you will always be my son and I love you.”

 

She pulls me into a hug, and I can’t stop the tears falling.

“Mom,” I cry against her shoulder, “I’m still your son.”

“Of course you’re still my son,” she says, her hand soothingly rubbing circles against my back.  It means so much that she doesn’t think less of me, and that she still sees me as her son.

 

We’re both silent for a few minutes, holding on to each other tightly.  And I needed this.  Then I feel my mom still in my arms.

“But, we need to talk about the full moon, and…”

“No,” I whine in response, “I’ll just stay away from the pack.  Deaton believed I was strong enough to not need the pack, and I don’t want everyone making my decisions for me.”

“Scott McCall,” my mom pulls back from the hug and stares down at me with her eyebrows pointedly arched, “Deaton may have thought that before your… change, but he and Derek both said that on the full moon during your… basically if you don’t get what you need from your pack it could be dangerous, that it could kill you,” I see the panic and fear in her eyes, “Please,” she pleads with me, “I don’t want to lose my son…”

“I don’t plan for it to kill me, and I’ve never really been a part of Derek’s pack, please mom, I need to try to deal with this without the pack…”

 

She chews on her bottom lip as she looks at me.  I can see the worry and fear are still there.

“Fine, I will agree on two conditions.”

“Okay,” I warily agree.

“First tomorrow we discuss with Deaton what contraceptive treatments might work for you, and you will choose one to use.”

“Mom!” I whine; I really don’t want to think of that.

“Scott!” she snaps back, “I know you think I’m not allowing you to make decisions that should be yours, but that isn’t true.  At the hospital I was trying to make sure you had the information you needed so we could discuss... things properly and you could make an informed decision.  I need to know you are safe, please.”

“Fine,” I huff, accepting that she won’t back down; and now, knowing why.

“Good, and secondly, during the full moon, when… if it becomes too much, and you need the pack you call Derek and allow the pack to… help you through it.”

I stare at her.  I just said that I wanted to deal with this on my own.  But underneath the steely gaze I can see the worry and fear, and I realise that she needs to know I’ll be safe.

“Okay,” I sigh, “If I need to.”  Instantly the relief she feels is evident.

“Good; how about I pick up some pizza for dinner on my way back from the store, we need some milk and stuff.

“Meat feast?” I ask.

 



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While my mom is out I head up to my room to change my clothes.  Opening my bedroom door I freeze when I notice that the window is open.

 

I look around and see Derek sitting on a chair staring at me, my laptop on his lap.

“What are you doing with that?” I demand.

“You know,” he smirks at me, “I think even your mom would find your porn on here when you’ve ‘hidden’ it,” he actually makes air quotes, “In a folder called ‘Private Special Stuff’.”

I whine in fear at what he’s seen; how could he have known my username and password?

 

“I was sceptical of Stiles’s theory, of Gerard having cursed you, but he knew about this,” he says pointing at my laptop, “Didn’t he?”  He doesn’t wait for me to reply, he just carries on talking, “So, his suggestion that Gerard cursed you so that you would lose control of your wolf and go feral giving the hunters a reason to put you down, it all fits.  You were most feral after your first change; so that’s what happened, your first change all over again.  Only this time your wolf had new information to go on, the dates on these files are all after your first full moon, so I don’t think Gerard’s curse on you worked as he intended.”

“I… I’m not… I’m going to deal with the full moon on my own,” I force myself to say.

“Don’t worry I heard what you said with your mom, and the pack will stay out of your way.  But I warn you now, the next week and a half aren’t going to be easy for you, you really should have listened and learned what you are.  And come the full moon, when you’ve suffered as much as you can without the pack and you finally stop fighting your instincts and come crawling back.  Well, now I know how you need to be treated Scotty, and as your good alpha I’ll see to your needs.”

I finch as he walks past me to the window.

 

“Oh,” he calls as he sits astride the window frame, “I really liked the naked boy with the black hair on all fours with the collar and leash,” he smirks, “he reminded me of you.”

Then he’s gone; leaving me knowing I need to make this work without the pack.

 

Chapter Text

 

 

Derek was no sooner out of the window and I was picking up my phone and texting.

[Scott>Stiles: did u tell Derek my username and password for laptop?]

 

I paced back and forth beside my bed while I waited on his reply

[Stiles>Scott: No!]

[Stiles>Scott: Why?]

[Stiles>Scott: Wait! U did change them after I had to tell Peter didn’t U?]

[Stiles>Scott: I told U to change them dude]

[Stiles>Scott: what did Derek do?]

The five rapid fire replies arrive almost at the same time.  I’m still reading read one when my phone sounds the next one is waiting.  I sit on my bed, my phone held in my shaking hand as I type out my reply.

[Scott>Stiles: he was using my computer in my room, dk what 4]

 

The problem is Stiles knows me better than anyone.  He knows when I’m not being totally honest with him, almost like he has werewolf senses; senses that seem to work through text messages too.

[Stiles>Scott: what was he doing in your *bed* room Scott?]

[Scott>Stiles: NO!  he was just on my computer!]

[Stiles>Scott: Looking at?]

[Scott>Stiles: IDK]

[Stiles>Scott: *Looking at?*]

[Scott>Stiles: stuff I’d saved]

[Stiles>Scott: Of?]

[Scott>Stiles: pics and video]

[Stiles>Scott: Of?]

[Scott>Stiles: stuff]

[Stiles>Scott: raindrops on roses and whiskers on kittens?]

[Scott>Stiles: what?]

[Stiles>Scott: tell me]

[Scott>Stiles: Porn, ok]

[Stiles>Scott: Lucky we deleted the stuff you didn’t know how it got there]

[Stiles>Scott: who knows what he would have thought]

 

“Shit, shit, shit!” I cuss to myself; knowing that Stiles is going to work it out and know I had a copy of the pics and video he helped me delete.

[Stiles>Scott: WTF?!]

[Stiles>Scott: I knew I was right]

[Stiles>Scott: You downloaded that stuff again, after I helped delete it!]

[Stiles>Scott: Why would you do that?!]

[Scott>Stiles: I didn’t]

[Stiles>Scott: ?]

[Scott>Stiles: I didn’t]

 

I know Stiles isn’t gonna just accept me saying I didn’t download them and I’ll need to tell him.

[Scott>Stiles: there were copies of some of them]

[Stiles>Scott: the ones you *really* liked!]

 

I don’t want to answer; I didn’t want him to know about them, and I’m scared to talk to him about the pictures and stuff.  I’m scared I’ll lose my best friend.  It’s all my wolf’s fault.  I never looked at this stuff before I was bitten.

[Scott>Stiles: please, I didn’t look at this b4]

 

My phone rings; it’s Stiles’s name that flashes on the screen.

“Scott, I’m back with dinner,” my mom shouts from downstairs.  I haven’t showered and changed like I planned, and my phone is still ringing in my hand.

“Down in a minute,” I shout.  I switch my phone off without answering; leaving it on my bed I head down stairs.

 



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Mom and I sit in front of the TV watching a re-run of a couple of episodes of ‘Yo soy Betty, lá fea’ while having the pizza.  It’s almost normal, except I never usually watched the soap with her, and I can almost forget the weirdness that’s happened the last few days as we sit and eat and talk about what’s happening on the show.

“So, when I was out I picked up a couple of leaflets for you,” my mom says putting them down on the couch between us.  I feel my face heat up as I read the title on the first one, ‘Hygiene rules for a healthy vagina’.  “Now I know they won’t all apply to you, because ‘a’ you’re still a guy, and ‘b’ you’re a werewolf, but some of them will, and…”

“Mom,” I whine in embarrassment, the normality of the evening gone.

“I don’t intend to go through the leaflets with you like I did with the safe sex talk I gave you,” she continues, “I don’t think either of us would be comfortable with that, given the circumstances, but promise me you’ll read them; I just want you to be safe,” she finishes.

I nod vigorously, grateful that I’m not going to have to endure the scarring of a talk about my… lower region.

“Good,” she says, “I’ve got an early shift tomorrow, so I’m going for a relaxing soak in the bath and then having an early night.  Don’t stay up too late.”

“I won’t,” I say, “I’ll probably just have a shower and head to bed too.”

“Okay,” she says, rising from the couch she places a kiss to my forehead, “Love you.”

“Love you too, mom.”

 



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In my room I strip out of my clothes down to my underwear and look at myself in the mirror.  I’m still wearing the pair of blue lace panties.  I feel myself redden with heat of shame and I’m no-longer sure what that shame is.  That my wolf likes how I look in them – or is there really no difference between the wolf and me – or that Derek has seen pictures like this on my laptop?

 

I pull the panties off, throw them on top of the rest of my laundry, and walk into my bathroom.  I turn the shower on and set the temperature to the maximum I can stand.  With the room filled with steam I’m reminded of the bath at Jackson’s as I step under the showerhead and the water cascades down over me.  I turn my head down so the water runs over the back of my neck and across my shoulders; looking at the water cascading down my hairless skin I think to myself – maybe accept? – this is what I’m going to be like for the rest of my life.

 

I run my hand across my abs and think of how it felt when Jackson’s hands brushed over my skin in the bath.  Running my fingers over the lips of… my mound, my mind flashes on the sight of myself in Jackson’s mirror when he had me place my fingers inside and stroke my clit.  Before I think about what I’m doing a groan escapes me and I’m biting my lip to hold in any other sound as fingers brush over the sensitive bundle of nerves.

 

As I think of how much better Jackson’s tongue licking me there felt in comparison to my fingers teasing my other hand runs up over my chest to tug on my nipple.  I think of how Derek played with them, bit them and flicked them with his tongue.  I recall how Derek jerked his cock and squeezed his knot, and as my fingers increase the pace of their rubbing me inside I wonder how differently Derek’s cock would feel in my ass compared to Jackson’s.  Would he feel as good?  Would he fuck me hard like Jackson did and tie to me?  Would he spank me as he shot his load in me?

 

My knees give out and fall to the floor of the tub as the shower turns cold and my pussy clenches around my finger; the coppery taste of blood in my mouth as I realise my fangs have dropped and I’ve bitten through my lip as I hold back the moan of my orgasm shuddering through me.

 

I quickly finish showering; feeling ashamed that I let my thoughts drift to Jackson and Derek, knowing that I need to steel myself against thinking of my times with them if I am going to get through the full moon without relying on my… Derek’s pack.  I quickly dry myself, wrapping the towel around my waist I exit my bathroom.

 



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Dropping my towel beside my laundry I walk over and open my underwear drawer; pointedly ignoring the panties Jackson bought me I take a pair of boxer briefs and pull them on.  I fall back on my bed and reach for my phone.  Switching it back on it is soon flashing with missed calls and text messages.

 

There are a dozen calls and voice messages from Stiles, and twice as many texts.  The gist of which are that he’s worried about me not answering and I’ve to call him back right now.  There are also two calls and two texts from Jackson basically saying that he heard I was planning to stay away from the pack and that he hoped he didn’t do anything to cause me to make that choice.

 

I text back Jackson first to assure him that he didn’t do anything wrong and that I just need to do this for myself.  Then I call Stiles.

 

“Scott!  Where are you?  Are you hurt?  Is it hunters?  What’s happening man?” the questions tumble at me as soon as Stiles answers.

“What?  No,” I reply, “I’m in my bedroom, there’s no hunters and I’m not hurt.”

“Then where the hell have you been?” he asks in contained rage, “And why weren’t you answering my calls or…”

“I was having dinner with my mom, and I left my phone up in my room,” I answer, cutting him off, “I didn’t get Jackson’s calls or text either until just now.”

“Jackson called you?” he asks, he sounds as surprised as I was and I briefly frown in annoyance that he thinks Jackson wouldn’t check I was okay.

“Yeah,” I reply.

“What did he call for?” Stiles asks, and I feel he’s getting side-tracked from whatever he was gonna say; but for now I’m happy with that.

“He was just checking I was okay, and that he didn’t do anything to make me… decide to stay away from the pack.”

“Uh-huh,” I hear Stiles grunt on the other end of the phone call, and not for the first time wish one of the werewolf powers was mind reading; though maybe it’s for the best that it isn’t.

“I’m feeling kinda beat…”

“About earlier, and Derek finding your…”

“It’s not…” denying that it’s mine is on the tip of my tongue, but I can’t say that to Stiles anymore, “There’s nothing I can do about that… just another reason for me to avoid him and the pack.”

“Scott…”

“I’m kinda beat, are we still on for tomorrow’s CoD and GoW marathon?” I try to derail Stiles’s train of thought.

“Yeah, sure, looking forward to beating your ass again,” he laughs.

“Okay, ‘nite.”

“Wait, I’m emailing you the section of the bestiary that covers… well, you, make sure you read it okay?”

“Sure, see ya tomorrow, buddy.”  I hang up before he replies and see there is a reply from Jackson.

[Jackson>Scott: As long as you are ok.  Keep safe]

 



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“Scott,” my mom calls into my room early next morning, “I’m heading to work.  I’ll pick you up about four this afternoon so we can go to see Deaton.”

I groan into my pillow; I’d forgotten about my mom insisting that we talk to Deaton about contraception.

“Do we have to?” I ask, “Stiles is coming over to…”

“Yes we have to, I’ll see you at four.  Love you,” she says as she walks down the stairs.

“Love you too, mom,” I shout out, and then I hear the front door close over.

I pull the pillow over my head and go back to sleep.

 

“Oh come on!” I hear Stiles exasperated voice cry out as he lands at my side on the bed, “Aren’t you up yet?”

“No,” I groan gazing at the clock and seeing it’s only just after nine.

“So you haven’t looked at the email I sent, I even created a cliff notes version of the bestiary entry especially for you,” he complains.

“No, not yet,” I say turning towards him; something catches my attention and I sniff the air, “Is Derek here too?” I ask at the strong undercurrent of Derek’s scent hanging in the air.

“No,” Stiles replies, “But I have been spending time at his loft, and with the pack, so maybe… it’s me?”

I lean in close to Stiles’s neck and inhale his scent deeply.

“It is you!” I shout, “Why are you spending so much time a Derek’s that you smell like him?”

“Well, I did start spending time at his loft and with his pack because I was trying to figure out what was happening to you, and then I was spending time there to find if there was a way to undo it, and he is the alpha of his pack and the only born werewolf we know that could have information – excluding uncle zombie wolf – so I was spending more time with him because I wanted to find out how to keep you safe and protect you when we knew we couldn’t undo the changes.”

“Oh,” I mumble; I can’t really complain about him smelling like Derek when it’s because he was trying to help me.

“You read the stuff I emailed you,” he says rising off my bed, “While I go use your shower and get me smelling more like you, okay?”

“Thanks Stiles,” I weakly smile at him as I pull back realising that I was leaning into the space he had been sitting.

 

I pull on some jeans and a shirt and head to the kitchen to grab some breakfast.

 

By the time I head back to my room having wolfed down some cereal and drank some juice for breakfast, Stiles is coming out of the bathroom with his hair still damp but with less of Derek and the pack’s scent on him.

“So,” Stiles says, holding his arms out on either side, “Do I pass the sniff test?”

“Doofus,” I grin at him and pull him into a hug; his arms relax around me and hold me to him.  His arms slide up and down my back as I hold him tightly and nuzzle at his neck.

“Erm, Scotty,” Stiles says, his voice breathy and low, “We should probably check the email I sent you now, ‘cause not so little Stiles is taking an interest and I’m not sure that’s what you want right now…”

“Hmm,” I reply as I continue to hold him to me, I’m not sure why he thinks there’s a problem; I can feel his interest pressing against my thigh.  It takes me a few more seconds to realise and it’s like a splash of cold water to my face and I let go and jump back from him.

“What?  What just happened?” I ask in shock, there wasn’t really that much of the pack’s scent on Stiles for it to be affecting me like that.

“Read the email, then I’ll explain,” Stiles says as he sits on the edge of my bed.  I sit on the chair opposite and at Stiles’s insistence open up my laptop to read the email he sent me.

 

 

Chapter Text

 

I’ve read the email; I’ve read the email like ten times and I’m not getting it.  Maybe it’s just that I don’t want to.  There is stuff I already know; like, born werewolves are only ever binary sexed, and what I am only occurs in bitten wolves.

 

“You’re looking confused, Scotty,” Stiles says from the side of my bed where he’s perched.

“I…” my eyes catch a line in the text that explains why I almost had sex with Stiles, the anger rises up in me and I find myself shouting at him, “So you were right, I might as well be a sex-bot, to any pack I’m nothing more than a sex toy to fuck and breed, and I’m pumping out pheromones that make everyone just want to have sex with me and…”

“It’s not that simple,” Stiles cuts me off mid rant, “

  • Your pheromones are connected to your emotions, so right now there is no sexy thoughts being thought, and…
  • If you’re claimed by an alpha for their pack you will only affect the members of that pack.  Something in the bite when the alpha claims you changes the chemistry of the pheromones you produce.
  • The breeding… the pack bitch acts as a surrogate for mated pairs in the pack that can’t have children.  Because they can more easily conceive due to their bodies being… less hostile to… male bodily fluids, and during their monthly heat they are more fertile and more likely to conceive.
  • And you were always a tactile kinda guy anyway, but you’re more so now; you need the affection and touch of your pack.  It’s also one of the ways a pack bitch affects the pack and helps diffuse intra-pack arguments, through touch; especially… intimate touching…”

Sex, I’m supposed to create peace in a pack by fucking them?!” I roar.

“No!” Stiles shouts back, “I said ‘intimate touching’; that doesn’t mean you have to have sex with all of the pack, it could be a caress, a kiss, or an embrace.  And I said it’s one of the ways, because also your pheromones could calm everybody if you remained calm and thought calming thoughts, or you could start an orgy if you wanted.  Basically, a werewolf like you can have a lot of control over the pack that they allow to claim them.  They help the alpha stabilise the pack and keep the peace within the pack.”

Allow to claim them?

“You’d have to ask the alpha to claim you, and then they would have to bite you while you were…”

“Were what?”

“If it was during your heat then the alpha would have to be tied to you, and by that I mean their knot in your pussy, and filling you with their jizz.  If it wasn’t during your heat, it would be the same, only… it would be in a binding circle and the rest of the pack would need to be present.”

 

I sit staring at him with my mouth open.

“Scotty?” he asks, worry in his voice, “Bro, you okay?”

“Just as well I’m not gonna be with the pack then,” I reply.  Grateful that he’s not a werewolf, and the cotton of my boxers is hiding the wetness around my groin, as I tried to hide my reaction.  A reaction that’s scaring me.

“Dude,” Stiles stresses, “If a heat is severe enough and you don’t have a pack to help you through it, it can cause you to overheat and major organs to stop working.  It can kill you.  Why would you…”

“Stiles, I need to do this on my own.  I need to take make my own decisions; I’m not going to be someone’s slave!,” I state, ignoring the concern in the look he’s giving me.

“Are you sure that’s what you want?” Stiles asks; and I know he’s referring to the porn Derek found.

“Yes,” I whine in reply.

 



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I steer Stiles away from more talk about the email, or my upcoming heat during the next full moon, and we start our planned gaming marathon.

 

It doesn’t deter him from returning to the subject during the games.  And it becomes clear he’s worried about how bad the heat will be; probably due to talking with Derek about it and the alpha saying how being intimate with the pack during the month before the full moon lessens the severity of the heat itself during it.

 

He raises it again when we’re sitting having some leftover cold pizza for lunch.

“Stiles, don’t worry,” I says, “I’ve already promised my mom that I’ll go to Derek if it’s more than I can deal with.”

“You have?” he asks around a mouthful of pepperoni and extra cheese.

“Yes,” I state.  And I can see the tension leave him.

 



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Stiles and I are still playing on my XBOX when my mom comes in from work.

 

“So, ready to go?” she asks.

“Go?  Go where?” Stiles asks.

“You, home,” she replies to Stiles, “Scott has an appointment to keep.”

“Do I have to?” I whine.

“Scott McCall you promised me!” she sharply retorts, “Now get your butt out the door and in the car; we are going to Deaton’s and you are finding out which form of birth control will work for your werewolf biology!”

 

Stiles looks from me to my mom and back again.

“Can I come?” he asks her.

“What?!  No!” I wail, “It’s embarrassing enough!”

“It’s something I should know about so…”

“You’re not a werewolf, and not female,” I say, and quickly add, “And not… like me either.”

“But I could add the info to the bestiary, now that I’ve got the copy of the Hale bestiary, and a copy of the Argent one, I’m cross-referencing and updating the information,” Stiles smiles at me, “I mean, I could always ask you detailed questions later.”

“Fine, come,” I gripe in answer, “I’d rather just be embarrassed once.”

 

We all pile into my mom’s car and she drives to Deaton’s.  Stiles asking what type of contraceptive I was considering, and what ones I had looked at and researched.  He looked disappointed in me when I said I didn’t know and hadn’t read up about any.

 



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Deaton was in the waiting room when we arrived, showing his last client of the day out, and ushered us through to the examination room.  I hoped I wasn’t going to be poked and prodded again.  If he was surprised by Stiles’s presence, he didn’t show any sign of it or say anything about it.

 

“I’ve checked with some colleagues who also provide medical services to werewolf packs local to them,” he says starting up a laptop, “And they have provided some details on contraception methods used by female werewolves in those packs.  They are based on available human medication and implants, but to cope with werewolf metabolism and healing they are modified.  There is a variation of the contraceptive pill that you would need to take every day, there are also subdermal implants that work for around three years, and intrauterine devices that can work for five or ten years.”

The diagrams that he then shows of the fitting of the devices have me panicking.  And then he starts talking about the potential side effects of each option.

 

“… bleeding not related to menstrual period… irregular periods… feeling weak… headaches… inflammation of the vagina… stomach cramps… visible water retention… weight gain… acne… flu-like symptoms… painful periods… dizziness… nausea…”

 

“Why would any woman go through that?” I shout, “There has to be some way that doesn’t have a risk of these side effect, right?” I ask hopefully.

“Yeah,” Stiles says, “Abstinence, but that isn’t really an option for you with your pheromones…”

“Stiles,” my mom barks at him, “He’s planning on trying to… wait, what pheromones?” she asks looking between Stiles and Deaton.

“It’s part of what sets an intersex werewolf’s position as a mediator within a pack,” Deaton explains to her, “They have the ability to affect the mood of those around them; this happens through the release of pheromones…”

“Like the ones he’ll be sending out on the full moon…” Stiles adds.

“Stiles,” I whine at the reminder of my impending heat.

“Yes,” Deaton continues, and my mom stands open mouthed in shock, “But also pheromones that can calm aggression in his pack and diffuse potentially violent situations, which leads to their role as mediator.”

“And until claimed by an alpha for their pack the sexy time broadcasting will attract and affect any…” Stiles continues.  I wrap my arms around myself and try to ignore the discussion.

“So,” my mom interrupts, “What you’re saying is…”

“Scott’s milkshake will bring all the boys, werewolves, wolves, and dogs to the yard,” Stiles helpfully explains; not.  My mom looks scandalised.  I feel… I don’t know, but I wish the ground would open up and swallow me.

“Seriously Stiles?!” I screech, “What the f…” I remember my mom is in the room, “Fudge.  Actual wolves and dogs?  That can’t be…”

“Did you not read the whole of the bestiary section I sent?” Stiles asks, “There are cases of omega pack… intersex werewolves being so consumed by their heat that they have been found with… not werewolves… or humans…” he thankfully trails off looking almost as uncomfortable as everyone else.

 

“Yes, but such occurrences are rare, and have only been with omega werewolves.  If we can get back to the discussion at hand,” Deaton attempts to steer everyone’s thoughts back to birth control.

“Scott,” my mom sharply intones, while pointedly not looking at me, Stiles, or Deaton, “I am taking this moment to remind you of your second promise; if this full moon starts to prove difficult you will contact Derek Hale immediately, right?”

“Yes,” I swiftly reply; trying to calm my own rising panic as I see her face ashen with worry.

 

No-one seems keen on me taking a pill every day, Stiles and my mom pointing out how often I mislaid or just forgot my inhaler when I had asthma.  I’m not keen on an implant in my arm that releases hormones and whatever else that goes through my whole body to get to where it’s needed to stop me getting pregnant.  Which leaves the intra… thing devices; the IUD.

Again it will be releasing hormones and stuff into me, but it will be where it’s needed; not that I’m even thinking about how it’s going to get there.  And Deaton said in some cases it can reduce the bleeding and cramping during periods; so that’s got to be a positive.

 

“Fine, I’ll get in touch with my colleagues and should have the werewolf modified IUD in a few days,” Deaton says, “We’ll want to have it fitted at least a week before the full moon.”

“Doc, that’s only a week and half away,” Stiles reminds everyone.

“It should arrive before Scott’s next work shift here at the clinic, so I can have everything arranged to perform the procedure then.”

“That’s three days away,” I say.

“Fine; that’s settled,” my mom states, “I think I need a stiff drink and bath, so let’s head home.  We can pick up dinner on the way.”

“Oh, we can go to the diner on fourth, they have the best curly fries,” Stiles excitedly exclaims.  My mom looks like she’s about to say he wasn’t invited.

“Fine,” she says instead as we head out the door.

 

“See you on Friday, Scott,” Deaton calls after us.

 



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After dinner Stiles drives home saying he’ll come by tomorrow so we can play more of our intended marathon CoD and GoW sessions.  My mom heads to her bathroom for a hot bubble bath with a glass of wine, and I head to my room to shower and get some sleep.

 

I wrap my towel around my waist when I step out of my shower, and when I open the bathroom door to my room I catch his scent.

“Scott,” Jackson says from the shadow s near my window, he takes a half-step towards me, “I know I shouldn’t be here and that you want to stay away from us, from the pack, but I wanted to make sure you’re okay.  I heard Stiles telling Derek that you were going to see Deaton; is everything okay?”

“Yeah, it was nothing,” I sort of lie, not wanting to explain.

“Scott,” Jackson says with a sigh, I smell the concern coming from him before I see it cross his face.  I’m not sure when I got to recognise the changes in Jackson’s scent.  “You know you can talk to me about this right?” he adds.

“It was for him to talk to me and my mom about birth control,” I blurt out, wanting him not to be worried over nothing.

“Oh.”

“I just didn’t want to talk about it.  It’s weird for me; the fact that I have these… female parts, and can get pregnant, now.  Half a week isn’t enough time to get used to it.  Everybody keeps going on like I just need to accept it and get on with life, and I know I’m going to have a heat soon, so I kinda do have to just get on with it, but it isn’t so easy.  I don’t know if I’ll ever get used to it.  Being with you, or with Derek, makes me forget that last week I didn’t have these parts, you make it seem normal for me to be like this and…”

“Isn’t that a good thing?” Jackson asks, “I don’t think there is anything abnormal about you…”

“I…” his words derail my train of thought, “I just don’t know,” I finally say.

“Anyway,” he says looking to the floor, “I thought I’d bring you those,” he points to a bag sitting on the bed, “I figured you might want something to help, if you’re going to get through the full moon on your own.”

 

I look in the bag.  There’s the vibrator he used on me when I spent the night with him.  I feel myself go red all over and know the scent I’m sending off at the memory of how it felt in me.

“Good to know I have that effect on you,” Jackson smirks.

I pull out the other item.  A piece of red silicone with a black base.  I look from the dildo to Jackson’s smirking face.

“It’s called ‘David the Werewolf’, it’s marketed as being modelled on a werewolf’s erect cock,” my face must give away some of my confusion and worry at a company knowing about werewolves existing as Jackson continues, “Not seriously, the company that makes them is joking, we might have a knot like they have on the toy, but you know my cock and Derek’s cock is nothing like that.”

“I…”

“Like I said, I thought they might help,” he steps close to me, his hand coming up to grip at the back of my neck, “But promise me, if they’re not enough call… well, call Derek; don’t try to head over to his place, stay here and call him or me to come to you.”

“I will.”  He seems to relax at my promise; pulling my head to his and resting our foreheads together.

“You can…you can even call me, if you want to.  Stay safe,” he whispers, the words hot against my cheek; then he leaves, leaping out of the window and running off to his Porsche.

 

Chapter Text

 

“’Sup bro?” I ask Stiles as he appears on my screen, “Shouldn’t you be heading over here for our continued gaming marathon?”

“About that,” he cautiously says.

“What?”

“Funny thing; you know how you’re concerned about how you start acting when you pick up Derek’s pack's scent?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, I’ve still been around them…”

“Stiles?!  Why would you be anywhere near Derek’s pack?”

“I was talking to him about you, and about your upcoming heat, and seeing if there was anything you needed to know that we didn’t already know…” he rambles in explanation.

“Oh,” I say, and then wonder out loud, “Why didn’t you just call him?”

“Why do you think he would answer when he saw it was me calling?”

“How would he know it was you?  He wouldn’t recognise your number.”

“Because he would know it was me calling when it showed my name and started playing the ringtone I programmed into his phone for me when I added myself to his contacts that time that I acquired his phone when you were pretending to be part of his pack and I thought you really were part of his pack only you were actually lying to Derek, me, and Gerard Argent who you were plotting against with Deaton and not any of your friends or werewolves that thought you were pack.”  His voice got louder and angrier as he spoke.  I knew how much I had hurt Stiles and Derek over that, but it’s the first time I realised how angry Stiles was about it.

“I’m sorry,” I say, and I know it isn’t enough, but words are never going to be, “I was trying to do the right thing, I swear, but I should have been a better friend.”

“Yeah,” he responds and clears his throat, “Any way, I figured we would play on-line since I should stay clear of you too.”

 

And that’s what we do.  For hours.  Eventually we take a break to get some lunch, and I decide I should shower and dress; at least shower and put on some sweats instead of lounging on my bed in my boxers.

 

I’m drying myself when I think back to Stiles’s words; when he mentioned about how I react around the pack.  He’s right; I do act differently around Derek and Jackson; but it’s not just them.  Around Stiles and my mom too.  Apart from my initial outburst and wailing about what’s happened to me I’ve been more or less accepting of it.  Calmer than I maybe should be; and I wonder if that is part of the change too and should I worry about it?

But what can I do?  Neither Derek nor Deaton have any solution, and Stiles has looked for ways to reverse the changes; only to confirm that there is no way that any of them can find.  I have to accept that I now have a vagina where my cock and balls used to be.  And it still scares me; I still wish I was like I was before.  But I’m not, and I need to find a way to deal with it.  On my terms.

 

I open my underwear drawer and ignore the vibrator and dildo lying there among the panties that Jackson bought me.  I blush at the memory of how the vibrator felt inside me when I was with Jackson and find myself wondering if the knot on the werewolf dildo will feel anything like Jackson’s knot felt like when it was in me.

Before I take those thoughts any further I pull out a pair of underwear and close the drawer.  The underwear is a pair of blue lace panties from Jackson, boy shorts from Fredrick’s.  I pull them on thinking no-one will know what I’m wearing under my sweatpants.

 

“Nice blue panties,” I hear Stiles voice call, “Those some of the ones that Jackson bought you?”  I turn and see that I left the skype call with him on my computer open.  I trip over my own feet trying to pull my sweats up to cover myself and fall on the bed.

“How… how long have you been watching me?” I stammer out.

“Since you dropped your towel and stood their deciding what underwear to put on.  Relax,” he adds as I stare at the screen with my mouth open, “It’s not like I haven’t already seen you naked.  I’m sure Jackson will be happy that you’re wearing the panties he bought you.  I’m just happy that you’re accepting your kinky self.”

“Stiles,” I whine at him, not liking the reminder of my fetishtistic and submissive fantasies that he, and now Derek, are aware of from the porn I had – have – on my computer.

“So, ready for me to whip your ass?” he asks

“WHAT?!”

“At the game, Scott,” he rolls his eyes, “I’ll leave the spanking of your ass to Derek, unless…”

“I…” my mind stalls at the thought of placing myself over Stiles’s knee, as I had lain over Derek’s, and I try to ignore the shiver of excited worry that goes through me, “No,” I finally squeak in answer.

“Just as well, given I’m at my house and we’ve got our CoD marathon to finish,” Stiles smirks in reply, but I hear the tinge of hurt in his voice at my rejection and I wish I hadn’t caused it to be there.

 

We spend the rest of the day playing, only stopping when my mom gets home and I go down to have dinner with her; Stiles promising not to go visit Derek or the pack and scrub himself clean of any lingering scent from the other werewolves and come over tomorrow so that we can continue our CoD marathon.

 


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“Dude, I am so, so, sorry,” Stiles pleadingly extolls over skype the next morning, “I’d just finished showering and gotten back to my room and Derek was there, asking if I’d heard from you, and if you were okay.  He wasn’t here long, and I can still head over now if you want…”

“What was Derek doing in your room?”

“I just said, asking if you were okay.  I can take another shower and head over, or we can play the same as yesterday?”

 

I’m surprised at Derek visiting Stiles house to ask about me – I’d have expected him to just call or text – and I am missing human contact with my mom at work all day and just spending my time on my own – even if I do have Stiles playing on-line and skyping me – but maybe keeping away from the scent of the pack completely is for the best.

“We should probably just skype and play on-line, just to be safe,” I answer.

 

The day passes much like the previous day, and after a day of fighting behind enemy lines – that passes all too quickly – Stiles has to make something healthy for his dad, and my mom is asking what I want to order for dinner.

 


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“Is your mother picking you up after your shift today?” Deaton asks while I’m working at the clinic the next day.

“No, she’s having to work a double shift, I’m just going to ride my bike home.”

“Scott, you do remember that I’ll be performing the procedure on you today to insert the IUD for your birth control method today?”

“Yeah,” I cautiously reply; I do remember, I’m just still not looking forward to it.

“You should call someone to drive you home afterward, and stay with you; as a precaution,” Deaton pointedly states.

“Okay, I’ll call Stiles.”

 

My nerves have been rising as the day progressed.  Deaton’s last appointment of the day has left and he’s cleaning up the examination room while I finish stacking the last of the boxes in the store room.

“So…” Stiles’s voice startles me and I turn to see him standing in the doorway.  I walk up to him, filled with the sudden need for physical contact and pull him into a hug.  As I breathe in his scent I immediately recognise Derek’s scent permeating Stiles’s own.  I recoil back from him pulling out of his arms that were hugging me back.

Why do you smell like Derek?  It’s stronger than ever on you; I thought you were staying away from him and his pack?” I demand.

“Damn it!” Stiles curses, “I showered like three times.”

“Stiles?!”

“Okay…” he brushes his hand through his hair, his words running into each other as he says, “Well funny thing about me and Derek; turns out we’re mates, and can’t keep our hands off each other…”

WHAT!” I roar, “You’re… you’re part of his pack now?!!”

“I guess, sort of,” Stiles mumbles in reply, “I mean… now that we’ve actually claimed each other with a mating bite; but it doesn’t change anything between us, we’re still best friends, right.  And if you do join the pack we’re still…”

“NO!” I shout, it suddenly makes sense to me, Derek is using Stiles to get to me.

“What?” Stiles says looking more hurt than I’ve ever seen.

“I mean, you can’t be mates with Derek, you’re not a werewolf; he’s lying to you,” I try to explain, “He’s just using you to get to me; he just wants me as his pack bitch.”

“That’s not true!” Stiles grits out, “He loves me and I love him, he doesn’t care if you’re in his pack or not.  The number of times you’ve lied to him, and the way you used him.  Once we worked out what was happening to you, what you were, the only reason he even agreed to claim you was because I asked him to!”

“Stiles all he cares about is power and…” I try to make him see how he’s wrong, but he cuts right through me.

“No.  I know how difficult it must be for you in your Scott centric world to think that anyone could care for me.  I mean look at me.  But he does.  He’s been there when you weren’t.”

“Stiles you’re only human, he…”

“Oh My God.  You know what, I’m gone.  Your own your own Scott.”  He turns and walks out.

 

I move to go after him, I have to make him see how Derek is using him and is going to hurt him; but when I get outside he’s driving off in his jeep and ignores me when I call after him.

“Scott,” Deaton says from behind me, “We need to do the procedure now.  I’ll make sure you get home afterwards.”

 


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I’m lying back on the table, naked from the waist down; Deaton had arranged something like stirrups for my feet to be placed in.

“I’m going to insert the speculum into your vagina now,” Deaton says and I feel the cold metal slide in and open me up.

“This is an antiseptic, I’m going to swab your cervix with before I apply an anaesthetic through intracervical injection.”  Deaton has a syringe ready and quickly injects the numbing painkiller somewhere inside me; I’m quickly feeling numb around my crotch.

“So, I’m inserting the IUD now,” Deaton continues, “And trimming the string; you should check the placement of the string every month after your period, so that you know the birth control is still in place.”

 

After he has removed the speculum he has me feel inside myself for the string.  Once I know what I’m looking for I get dressed and lock my bike up in the clinic’s store room.  When Deaton and I walk outside Jackson is there; standing beside his Porsche.

“I’m only here to drive him home,” Jackson conveys to Deaton, “Given his other ride is pissed off at him, and anyone else in the pack would have ripped his throat out.  I doubt he’s in any condition to ride his bike.”  Deaton looks to me.  Part of me doesn’t want to trust anyone in Derek’s pack right now, but I know Jackson isn’t lying; I could hear the truth in his heartbeat.  I nod my assent and walk over to Jackson.

 


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We sit in silence as Jackson speeds the car towards my home.  I try to ignore the cramping that seems to be starting as the sedative wears off; and despite the pain I feel the cloying need to climb into his lap and press against his growing bulge building within me until he opens the windows.

“Bitches and their pheromones,” I hear him mutter before he continues, “You need to learn to control that; especially if you plan on not being part of the pack.”

 

The breeze blowing through the car clears my head of the desire, and we’re both silent again.  I’m left to my thoughts; feeling betrayed and deserted by Stiles.  I’d always thought he was smarter than me, and that he’d see through any scheming plot; but somehow Derek’s managed to get to him and use him to get to me.  I can’t think how I’m going to be able to prove to Stiles what Derek is up to without being around Derek, and I can’t risk that.  This car ride with Jackson has shown me how vulnerable I am to them right now.  I need to get through the full moon first.  I need to avoid the pack and Stiles until after my heat.

 

“I used to think you were smart Scott,” Jackson says, pulling me from my thoughts as he parks outside my house.

“Huh?”

“I mean I knew you weren’t as smart as Lydia or Stilinski, and that you could be oblivious, but I always thought, when it counted, you would get there; see what was real and what wasn’t.  Instead you’ve now managed to piss of your best friend who always had your back, got his mate, my alpha, wanting to rip your throat out, Isaac and Erica want to rip you another new one; even Boyd is pissed at you.”

“And you?” I ask Jackson.

“Me, I just want you to get your head out of your ass and realise that you need… us, the pack, and…”

“Why?” I question him, “If the rest of the pack wants to rip me apart, why don’t you?”

He looks away from me; looking out through the windscreen.  I see him lick his lips and his Adam’s apple bob before he turns back and answers.

 

“You remember when I was the Kanima, and you and Stiles had me chained up half naked in the preserve?”

“Yeah.”

“Everybody wanted to kill me; everybody but you.  You were the only one that thought I should be saved, that I was even worth trying to save.  So I think you deserve another chance, even if no-one else does.”

“But I know Derek is using Stiles and gonna hurt him; he lied to me, he told me I could be cured of being a werewolf if I killed the one that gave me the bite.  He said he’d help me and then he killed Peter himself to take the alpha power, and now he just expects me to trust him unconditionally!?  And Stiles has been lying to me for months.”

“No.  Derek and Stiles are mates.  After you used Derek and the fight with Gerard he was done with you.  He wasn’t going to let you near the pack again.  Stiles convinced him.”

“So, you’re telling me that Stiles was manipulating me too!?  And that they’ve been keeping secrets from me since this began!  How am I not supposed to be mad when I find out that they’ve been making decisions for me without even…”

“When has Stiles been treating you differently than he did before he found out Derek and he were mates?  So he kept secrets from you, are you tell me you haven’t kept secrets from him?  You’re going to lose everything and everyone unless you stop fighting your instincts and realise you need…”

“My instincts are wrong.  This is not who I am supposed to be, and if you can’t see that then I don’t need you either.  I don’t need you and I don’t need the pack; I don’t need anyone,” I shout back at him as I rush from the car slamming the door behind me.

I hear the screech of his tyres on the road as he slams his foot down on the accelerator and speeds off.

 


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Over the next couple of days, as the full moon approaches, there is text after text from Stiles and I ignore them all.  He calls and I don’t answer.  I ignore my phone.  I concentrate on the reading list for school, on training for lacrosse.  Keeping myself in shape by exercising.  The third day he bangs on the front door.

“Scott, you gotta talk to me,” he shouts at the house, “Come on Scott, please, I know you can’t have even read my texts or listened to my messages.”  I ignore him, just like I did with the text and message, “Scott, it’s important, there might be a cure.”

 

Sure, now there might be a cure.  But I can’t trust that there is.  I want to believe him; I want to open the door and ask him what it is, but I don’t do any of that.  Eventually he gives up.

“Please Scott, listen to my messages and call me,” he says before he walks away and I hear his jeep start.

 

I delete the texts and the voice messages without reading or listening to them.  I don’t call him.

 

The closer the full moon gets, the more I find myself on edge; bursting with energy and feeling like my skin is crawling at the same time.  It’s affecting me more keenly than it has since my first full moon after I was bitten.  But it’s different.  I feel so horny.

 

Three nights before the full moon and I throw the bed sheets off me and franticly rub and press against the hood of skin over my clit until I come.  Two nights before and rubbing myself to orgasm isn’t enough.  Even after I have come I am still horny.  I grab the vibrator from my underwear drawer and thrust it between my wet pussy lips, pressing it against my clit until I have brought myself twice more.  The night before the full moon and I am wet between my thighs before I crawl onto my bed.  I reach straight for the vibrator that is now under my pillow and quickly slip it inside me.  With one hand thrusting the toy against my clit, my other hand smears my wetness over my taint and teases my asshole; slowly circling the ring of muscle, opening it up.  I bring myself once, then again with my fingers stretching my ass and the vibrator pressed against my clit.  Then I pull open my underwear drawer and get ‘David’, the werewolf dildo.  I slick it with pool of wetness dripping from my pussy and press it against my stretched asshole.  Sitting down on it.  I bounce up and down on the toy and bring myself for a fourth time. Then a fifth with the knot of the dildo breaching my ass.

 

The night of the full moon I am going out of my mind with the need my heat is causing me not being satisfied.  I’m naked, my skin shining with sweat and the fluid ejaculated from me after each orgasm.  David is still locked in my ass as I rub my clit between two fingers and press the vibrator into me with the heel of my palm as I try to bring myself for the ninth time.  As I cry out with the release and I know it’s not enough.  I still need.

 

“No, no,” I sob.  I feel wrung out from the need the heat is flooding me with.  I’ve avoid the pack for the last week.  I haven’t even spoken to Stiles.  My phone has been left ignored somewhere in my room.  I don’t want to give in and call Derek.  But I just can’t… the need is too much.

 

I frantically search for my phone and find it lying in the corner of the room where I must have thrown it after I deleted Stiles’s texts and voice messages.  I try to switch it on, but it doesn’t come to life.  I don’t know if I’ve broken it or it’s just the battery is needing charged.  I can’t find my charger and another wave of the heat crashes down on me.  I leap out of my window and start running to Derek’s loft.

 

Chapter Text

 

 

It feels like my skin is crawling with fire ants, my body filled with a burning itch, and I know that only Derek and the pack can help.

 

I run naked through the streets to get to him, with just enough presence of mind to stick to the back streets and alleyways.  My feet pounding on the concrete beneath me and my body burning from the inside out.

 

I hear dogs whine and howl as I pass the backyards where they are fenced in; I remember Stiles’s comment that the pheromones I’d release during my heat would affect ‘all the boys, werewolves, wolves, and dogs’, and I run faster past the barking and whining.

 

I’m about a half block from Derek’s place, running through a back alley that’s keeping me from being seen, when I’m grabbed from behind.  I’m pulled back against a strong body, their hand sliding down to my wet sex.

“Well, well, what do we have here?” Peter’s voice sings in my ear, “I wondered why young Stiles was so interested in looking through my family’s bestiary.  But when I noticed the sections he was paying particular attention to; well, it became clear one of Derek’s little menagerie of a pack was actually a bitch.  I have to admit though, after you didn’t turn out to be the bitch I expected when you first shifted I had thought Stiles was researching because Isaac had turned out to be the pack bitch.  So tell me Scott, just how have you become a bitch now, and are you doing out roaming the streets when you’re in heat?” he asks and licks the side of my neck while his fingers slip between the lips of my pussy.

 

I arch into the contact, a needy whine escaping from me.  I need this, I need the contact of another person to take away the burning itch across my skin.  Everywhere Peter touches me relieves the aching need.  I hear him fumble with his belt, his zipper being pulled down, and I want his cock in me.  But... something nags at the edge of my brain… but I promised Jackson, Stiles, and my mom, I would go to Derek.  I need to go to Derek.

 

I howl for Derek as I struggle to stop Peter from pushing his cock into my pussy.

“I can always take your ass for starters, bitch,” he growls in my ear, “You’ll soon be begging me to claim you as I fuck your ass and make you come; and then you’ll willingly give up that sopping wet cunt for me to fuck.”  I feel his cock slide along the crack of my ass.

“No,” I whimper, even as my body moves to give him easier access to me.

“See how much you want me, bitch?” he growls low in my ear.

Peter is suddenly yanked off me and there’s a loud roar.

 

“Stay the fuck away from him!” Derek roars; I turn to see him knee Peter in the balls and throw him against the wall, “You are not pack; you’re an omega in my territory, and you are not welcome.”

“You’ll regret this nephew,” Peter calls after him as he lifts me up and carries me to his loft.

 


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Derek drags me into the loft, closing the door with a bang behind him.  He holds me by the neck against the wall; leaning in close to me he nudges my legs apart with his knee.  I turn my head as much as I can to bare my neck to him.

“Please,” I whimper.

“You were supposed to call me, not leave your house and run around town naked,” he growls, “And that was only our agreement before you insulted Stiles and ignored his calls and texts.”

“I’m sorry,” I gasp, canting my hips towards him; my heat making me desperate for physical contact.

“No Scott,” the alpha growls at me, “You’re not sorry; you’re just a needy bitch, desperate for a fuck.  Well, consider yourself lucky; I promised Stiles that I would make sure you were taken care of and got what you needed,” his words are cold, but in my desperate need I don’t care, “And I keep my word to my mate, because I care about him.”

 

Derek steps away from me, but his grip around my neck stays firm and he drags me to one of the other rooms.  He opens the door and drags me inside.  There’s a warning growl from the bed.  Erica is naked and on top of Boyd and they are clearly fucking, but Boyd’s legs are wrapped around Erica.  It takes me a moment to realise that Erica is wearing a strap-on and is fucking Boyd’s ass.

“He’s yours to play with, I promised Stiles he’d well taken care of if he called; so make sure he is,” Derek tells them, “Once you’re finished with him, pass him over to Isaac.  And Boyd, no fucking his pussy, and that goes for you too Isaac,” Derek throws over his shoulder in the direction of the other room.  Derek turns back to me and says, “My pack will take care of you, probably not as carefully and affectionately as they would have before you told my mate that no one could be interested in him except as a means to get to you; but they will get you through your heat without it killing you.”

 

Derek turns and leaves me alone with them, closing the door behind him.  Erica smiles at me and it’s filled with wicked intent.

 


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Both their eyes are shining beta yellow, and their claws are out.

“You hurt Batman,” Erica snarls through her fangs, “So now his Catwoman gets to play with you.”  She pulls out of Boyd’s ass, and rises from the bed; as she stalks towards me she wipes down the dildo with a cloth she picked up from the bedside table.

“Smells like you’re wet enough not to need lube,” she purrs, walking right up to me, grabbing me by the shoulders as the dildo presses against the lips of my pussy as she grips me tightly and thrusts fully in.

 

I gasp at the sudden ferocity of it, but I don’t pull away; my heat claiming control of me, making me surrender to the need.

 

Boyd is pressed against my back, his fingers coated in my slick as they circle around my asshole and slowly push into me as Erica pounds into my pussy with her strap-on.  I rest back against Boyd’s strength, wrapping an arm around his neck for better purchase as I lift my legs and wrap them around Erica’s waist.

“Wanton little slut aren’t you,” she growls at me and leans forward, biting into my right nipple as Boyd’s fingers grip around my left and twist and pull.  I moan into the room, pushing myself back onto Boyd’s fingers and forward onto Erica’s dildo.  Back and forth I thrust as they bite and squeeze and pull on my nipples.  Boyd’s two fingers become three and then four, before the head of his cock is pushing at the relaxed muscle and sliding in to me.  I’m now filled with a fake cock in my pussy and a real one in my ass and frantically fucking myself back and forth on each of them.

 

Erica’s claws rake up my sides, cutting into me.

“Let me give you some of the pain you gave our Batman,” she snarls in my ear as I cry out and shudder on the dildo and cock I’m impaled on, “He deserves better than you; for a supposed best friend you are shit.”  She spits in my face as Boyd’s knot is thrust into my asshole tying us together.  Erica’s pace of pounding into my pussy become bruising as she screams her release.  The dildo rubbing frantically against my clit and Boyd’s knot pushing against my prostate bring my own orgasm loudly from me.

 

Eventually I am marched out of the room and across to Isaac’s door; Boyd’s grip on the back of my neck tight as his come leaks out of my ass and down my thighs.  I catch sight of myself in the full length mirror as I leave their room.  I look debauched, my pussy swollen and my nipples red and bruised; but the scratches up the sides of my body, while bloody, don’t look deep.

 

Isaac opens his door.  He doesn’t look any more pleased to see me there than Erica was.

 


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Isaac scowls at me as Boyd pushes me into the room and leaves.  I feel the needs of my heat starting to surface again; not as fast or as strong as they did when I was trying to deal with them on my own, but enough for me to want.

“Please Isaac,” I plead, “I…”

“Shut up and kneel,” he snarls at me as he circles round me.  He’s naked and his cock is hard.  I drop to my knees, my eyes never leaving his cock; I need it in me.

“This,” he grabs his erection, “Has been hard since you arrived here, your scent filling every room, and the sounds from you as Erica and Boyd made you come, again and again.  But then everything is about you, isn’t it Scott.  Well, suddenly tonight is too.  Derek said to take care of you, so open up.”

 

He grabs my jaw and pulls me forward and his cock hits the back of my throat.  I gag as he thrusts back and forth.

“Watch your fucking teeth, whore,” he barks at me; pulling his cock nearly clear of my mouth before thrusting forward, the head pushing against my throat and his pubes in my nose.  As he pulls back again I gasp for air.

He keeps thrusting back and forth; making me gag, my chin and chest covered in spittle, as he continues his assault.  Before long he’s pulling back and out of my mouth, his come is released over my head, my face, my neck and my chest, as he squeezes his knot and keeps unloading over me.

 

“I’m sorry,” I say.  I’m not sure what for, but I know Isaac was angry while he fucked my mouth; whether it’s for the way I treated Stiles or something different I don’t know.

 

“Sorry, really?” Isaac says, the anger evident in his tone, “What for Scott?  For the way you’ve treated this pack in general?  Or Stiles in particular?  Or for how you lied to me?  How you made me think you were a pack mate I could trust, a pack mate that cared about me, about my well-being and safety?  Hmm?  Which is it Scott?  Or don’t you know?!” he’s shouting by this point, “Maybe I should show you how my dad taught me not to say sorry when I didn’t know what I was sorry for!”

 

He drags me over to the bed, I hear a belt being pulled from a pair of pants and then feel the force of it strike across my ass.  The belt rains down on my ass and back, striking me again and again.  With each blow I hear Isaac say, “I thought you cared, I thought we were pack, I thought you’d be there for me.  But you were just using me, using the pack, and using Derek; and even after that Derek offers you a place in the pack, and you turn your back on us all again until you need us.  Just using us again!”

"Isaac!” I hear Derek roar.

 


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Derek takes me to his room where he rubs some lotion into the welts from Isaac’s belt, and scratches from Erica, which are still all visible on my skin.

“I told them to keep control and not to be so rough; they’ve usually got better control on a full moon.  You should let those heal,” he says to me as I lay back on his bed.  I look away from him with a blush tinting my face.

“Except you don’t think you deserve to heal them, do you?” he adds.  When I remain silent he continues, “Fine.  I can smell your heat is rising again.”  He’s right, I feel the heat coiling inside me, the need building.  “This should be the last for this full moon.”

 

He lies down beside me.  His steel hard shaft resting against my leg, and his fingers rubbing over the wet lips of my pussy.

“Ready?” he asks me.

“Please,” I ask, expecting him to just play with my clit like before.

His fingers slip inside me and he catches my clit between two fingers while his thumb rubs circularly over the end.  I’m gasping and my body shuddering as he leans over me, his lips at my ear.

“Just imagine the rest of your lacrosse team seeing you like this?” I bite my lip as I moan, his fingers continuing to tease me.

“Or when you’re in the locker room taking off a pair of the lace panties that are in your drawer at home, and they walk in and see them?  How wet would that get you?

“Or maybe Boyd, Isaac, or Jackson have you bending over a bench and they’re fucking your pussy or ass?”

 

My body goes rigid as I jerk against him with the orgasm that his words and fingers have brought.  I feel his weight on top of me as his cock slides into my pussy and he thrusts against me.  I wrap my legs around him and pull him into me as I push up against his thrusts.

“Derek, ah, fuck, please, alpha,” I shout as another orgasm rocks through me, and then I feel his knot swelling; pulling at the lips, and pushing against my clit.

 

With a roar Derek comes in me.  He rolls onto his back and pulls me with him so that I am lying on top of him, my legs either side as his knot keeps us locked together.  His hand cards through my hair and I fall asleep on top of him.

 

 

Chapter Text

 

 

I wake up alone in Derek’s bed.  My body is sore, but my heat is gone.  There are still the marks on me from Erica’s claws, and the whipping Isaac had given me with his belt.  Isaac’s come is matted in my hair, and flaking on my skin around my neck, face, and chest.  Boyd’s has leaked from my ass and is sticking to the back of my thighs; while Derek’s is drying on my thighs where it has leaked from my vagina.

My hand goes to my neck, searching around my collar bone for the mark I expect to find there.

 

“I didn’t claim you, so there’s no bite mark to find,” I hear Derek say; I turn to see him standing in the doorway of his private bathroom, clad only in a towel wrapped around his waist.  His hair still damp and small droplets clinging to his chest hair.  I feel the effect the sight of him is having on my lower region, and from the smirk he has he can smell it too.  I blush and lower my gaze to the foot of the bed.

“You know where the door is, you can let yourself out,” he says and turns, unwrapping the towel from his waist to finish drying himself.

“Can I use your shower?” I ask.

“No.”

“But…”

“But what Scott?  You came here naked last night; running through the streets like a whore, I’m sure you can get yourself back home just fine.”

“Derek, please…”

“Please what Scott?”

“Please, alpha?” I say uncertainly.

“No, I am not your alpha,” he rounds on me, grabbing me from the bed and holding me up against the wall, his hand wrapped around my throat, “You are not the bitch of my pack,” he says using his knee to part my legs, “I was prepared, at Stiles’s request, to let you be my pack’s bitch, to protect you.  And then when I saw your porn collection, knew what kind of submissive bitch you wanted to be I had planned to make sure you were used like that, I even bought a collar especially for you,” I try to hold back the whimper at his words, “Even last night, despite Erica and Isaac going further than they should, was intended as a taste of what you could have had; to see if you were still fighting your instincts, your desires, or if you’d finally accepted them.”

“Please,” I plead, not sure if I’m asking him to let me go, or give me what he intended.

“No Scott, after what you said to Stiles, to my mate; after how you hurt him when he had always been your friend, always been there for you, and always had your back.  I have no intention of claiming you.”

 

I can’t hold back the sob at the thought of how much I’ve hurt Stiles.

“Now I want you to listen very carefully, not just to my words,” Derek instructs me, “Stiles being my mate had nothing to do with getting you in my pack.  Stiles is my mate, and I love him.  Now, was I lying or is that the truth?”

“Truth,” I choke out between sobs.  Derek lets me go and walks over to his laundry hamper and pulls out a pair of his boxers.

“Here, you can keep these.  The smell of the pack’s come on you should keep any other werewolves or dogs from bothering you on your way home; especially now your heat is over.  Now get out.”

 

I quickly pull on his dirty underwear and flee past Erica, Boyd, and Isaac who are sitting in his living room as I bolt out the door and leave the loft.

 


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I run out of Derek’s building, and as I get to the parking lot I see Stiles’s jeep pulling up.  He sees me and his face contorts with anger.  I turn to run the other way.  He swings the jeep around and cuts across my path, blocking my way.  The passenger door swings open.

“Get in,” Stiles barks at me, I put my head down and keep walking, too guilty to look him in the eye and face the anger in his voice, “I said get in before someone sees you and calls my dad!”

I hesitate for a moment before I jump in, pulling the door closed behind me.

 

We’ve driven along in silence for about five minutes.  I can tell Stiles is getting angrier; his jaw grinding, his knuckles taut and white as he grips the steering wheel.  He suddenly pulls over to the side of the road and pulls out his phone.  I slink down in the seat to try and hide from anyone driving by.

 

“What in the HELL were you fucking thinking Derek?!” Stiles shouts into his phone, “I asked you to…”  I only catch Stiles side of the conversation.  I can’t seem to concentrate on what Stiles is hearing.

No, Derek; throwing him out of your apartment, naked apart from a pair of your boxers, after fucking him, and with come crusting to his body, is not taking care of him!  And, if you REALLY want to talk about you taking care of him maybe we should talk about the cuts, welts, and claw marks all over his body?!  Hmm?!  You wanna try explaining where the hell those came from Derek?”

“The fact that you didn’t do it makes it worse, not better Derek!  Where were you that you allowed it to happen?  So did you sit there and watch as your betas did it, or walk away and leave Scott alone with them?!   And if it was your betas and not you, how come he hasn’t healed them yet?”

“The fact that he didn’t say no doesn’t mean a damn thing!  He was in heat and wasn’t CAPABLE of saying no; you know that.  He needed the sex Derek, not the fucking physical abuse that went with it.”

“I’m taking him home and making sure he’s okay; like you should have done.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?  NO!  Of course you can’t come over,” Stiles screams into the phone, “Let me put it this way Derek, do you remember how much I hesitated ages ago when you asked me to cut off your arm?  Well you come near Scott right now and you’ll see just what it would be like for me to cut something off you.  Just wait at your place and I might consider calling you later.”

 

Stiles hangs up and pulls out into the road again.  We’re both silent while he drives me home.

 


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My mom is in the kitchen; I run up the stairs to my room before she can see me.

“Stiles?” I hear her say.

“He had a rough night, ran all the way to Derek’s naked, and…”

“He what?”

“Just…I’ll get him settled in and make sure he’s okay,” Stiles avoids answering and I hear him enter my room.  I stay curled in a ball on my bed.

 

Stiles climbs on my bed behind me and spoons; his arm wrapped around me and his chest against my back.

“I’m sorry,” my voice breaking as I talk, “I shouldn’t have said what I did, and I should have called or gone to see you after Deaton’s… Dude, you’re my best friend and I can’t have you being angry with me.”

“You were angry, and I was angry; and I could have let myself in when I came over to see you too, but I didn’t.  I talked to Jackson after he picked you up, and he told me what you said… and it’s not like you didn’t have a right to be angry.”

“I wasn’t angry, I was scared,” I tell him.

“Scared of what?”

“…”

“Scott?”

“Of what was happening – had happened – to me.  Of how much I was starting to just accept it.  But mostly of how good it felt, and how safe I felt, when I was around Derek or Jackson.  He does love you, you know; Derek I mean.”

“I know he does.  Ever since the actual mating I can feel it; it’s like a thread pulled tight between us, we can sense what each other is feeling.”

 

I turn to face him.

“When did you and Derek become mates?” I tentatively ask him.

“Apparently Derek always knew, from that first time we met in woods when we were looking for your inhaler.  But he was waiting until I was legal before he’d tell me.  Then after the showdown with Gerard we were spending more time together trying to figure out what was up with you, and it sort of cropped up.  He still didn’t want to sex me up, wanted to wait, but then that day I was explaining to you about the pheromones and the affect you had on other people, it seems I must have been really covered in them as when he came over to ask me how you were he lost control…”

He mated with you against your will?

No, no,” Stiles protests, “He knew he was losing control and was planning on leaving; so I sort of pounced.”

“You pounced?”

“He was standing beside my bed, so I jumped on him, knocked him back so he fell on the bed and I kissed him.  Things progressed from there.”

“Oh.”

“How about we get you in a hot shower, so you can clean up, that sound good?  ‘Cause that stuff in your hair is gross.”

“Isaac,” I reply as I nod my head.

 


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When I come back into my room, my towel wrapped around my waist, Stiles if sitting on my bed; he’s leaning back against the headboard with his phone in his hand.

“I’ve put your phone on its charger, but I’m not sure it’s working,” he says, putting his own phone down, “And I thought you might want to clean these,” he indicates the vibrator and dildo he’s placed on the bedside table.  “Want to talk about last night?  And the marks?”

“No.”  I turn to get clean underwear to put on, Derek’s boxers now sitting in my laundry hamper.  I pull on a pair of silk panties from the drawer, and then get a t-shirt to cover the scratches and welts.

 

“Scott.”  He’s suddenly behind me and gently pulls me over towards the bed, then down onto the bed with him, his arms wrapping around me; comforting and safe.  “Come on bro, don’t shut me out; tell me what happened.”

“They were just… they were helping with my heat even though they didn’t want to, and they just didn’t have enough control to deal with the full moon and not wanting to be with me.  After he saved me from being… taken by Peter…”

“Peter?”

“I decided to make a run for it since my phone wasn’t working, but Peter caught me first, and was going to… but Derek stopped him.  That’s when he took me to the loft he gave me to Erica and Boyd.  It was like one of the videos at first, with both of them… but then Erica said she wanted me to feel pain like I made you feel…”

“That’s…”

“She scratched me, while she and Boyd kept fucking me and making me… Anyway, they finished with me and I was taken to Isaac’s room,” I keep turned away from him, and he spoons against me, holding me tightly, “After he… afterwards I said I was sorry, but he got angry asking what I was sorry for, and… he was angry about a lot of things I’d done, before… he thought I didn’t care and had used him, and pretended to be his friend.  He used his belt, but he got too angry.”  I wipe a tear from my cheek, not sure when I started crying.

“I’d made them angry and they just lost control because of the full moon…” I start to explain.

“Don’t you dare make excuses for them or for Derek,” Stiles stops me, “There is no situation that gives them the right to abuse you like that…”

“But…”

“No buts, Scott,” Stiles interrupts, “What they did was wrong.  They raped you…”

“No!” I say turning in his arms to face him, “I went their ‘cause I couldn’t take care of my heat, I wanted to have sex with them, it wasn’t…”

“Scott, you wanted the sex because of your heat, but you didn’t consent to the scratches, or the whipping with the belt; the marks they’ve left on you, the fact they are still there, show it was way beyond any sexytime fun… once they crossed that line, it isn't consensual anymore.”

“I know,” I whisper, “Everything about me liking that stuff is wrong; that’s why I tried to deal with it away from the pack, and why I wanted to…”

“Scott, that’s not what I…” Stiles stops me, he stops talking himself and I can see his mind working, the purposeful look in his eyes when he asks, “The fact that you’re into BDSM isn’t wrong, as long as what happens is consensual; but what they did wasn’t consensual, was it?”

“I…”

“The truth Scott.”

“At first the scratching just added to the heat, but then it hurt too much, and it was just because I was in heat that I could stand it; it was the same when I was with Isaac.  I tried to apologise for what happened but …”

“Then you should have had a safe word to use and they should have stopped.  When it’s sane, safe, and consensual it’s not wrong that you like it…”

“It is; I shouldn’t want to let other people make decisions for me, and I’m a guy, I should have dick and…”

“And who says a guy should have a dick?  What’s wrong with someone wanting to put their trust in someone else to guide them and care for them if that makes them feel safe and happy?”

“…” Stiles’s questions make me pause, I don’t have an answer to them.

“Exactly,” he continues, “Nature may mostly create two biological sexes, male and female, but nature isn’t adverse to some diversity; there’s nothing wrong with you because you have both male and female genitalia, and before you interrupt I heard Deaton say that your clitoris is actually your dick, just a lot smaller and shooting blanks.  And gender is complex and multi-faceted; it’s your biological sex, your gender identity, and your gender expression.  There is nothing that says those all have to be the same.  Explore your own sense of self, including those repressed desires that your wolf let loose, be true yourself, and you define what it means to be Scott McCall; my best friend, my brother from another mother.”

I’m still trying to think through everything he’s saying, so I remain silent and let him talk.

 

“Buddy, a lot of people like the same stuff you do; that’s why there’s porn made about it.  There’s nothing wrong with the fact that you liked some of what happened.  What is wrong is that none of them took a second to make sure you were okay; what’s wrong is that they wanted to make you suffer.  Erica and Isaac both lost control, what they did was not safe and could have been far more serious, and you did not consent to it at any point.  The fact you didn’t say no is not consent; you never said yes.

“I was in heat, I needed to have sex with them…”

“Yes, but what happened wasn’t heat sex; if you don’t want to call it rape then at least call it abuse, because at the least that’s what it is.  I wanted Derek to claim you for the pack because I thought you’d be safe and taken care of in a pack, but…” Stiles closes his eyes, I see him swallow, tears forming at his eyes before he continues, “This is all my fault…”

“No!  It’s not your fault Stiles, it’s mine, I should have…”

“You were in heat, and they knew that meant you weren’t able to speak for yourself properly…”

“I could, I told Peter, no,” I argue, but have to sheepishly admit, “Even though my heat was making it hard to…”

“See, you’re making my point for me; they should have taken care of you, not assault you.  Your biology is not your fault.  I was the one trying to get you to join the pack, and I didn’t want to tell you about me and Derek in case you thought it was only because of that.  You were only just dealing with being cursed, and…”

“It’s fine…”

“No, it’s not.  I thought I could trust Derek to take care of you, he said he was gonna make sure you were okay, even though we’d argued, but...  How can I trust him now?  How could you trust him, trust any of the pack, to look after you when you were in heat after what they did?”  Stiles’s next words shock me, “I don’t think I can forgive them for what they did; I don’t think I can forgive myself.  I have to break up with Derek, we’ll find another pack, one that you feel safe with…”

“You can’t!” I exclaim.

“Scotty, there has to be another pack out there that…”

“No, I mean, you can’t break up with Derek; you’re mates, and you claimed each other…”

“Yes, but as you pointed out I’m not a werewolf, so I can.”

“But without his mate he could go feral!” I’m shocked that Stiles could be so cold to someone he loves, it’s so unlike him, “It could even kill him?”

“Scott, you’re my best friend, and I put your well-being in Derek’s hands, I trusted him to take care of you and he betrayed that trust; do you really think I would…”

“Tell me you don’t love him.”

“I… I still love him, but I can’t forgive him; not yet,” I hear the sadness in his voice, smell the salt of his tears.

“He loves you too, you know,” I say as I kiss his forehead.  I missed kissing during my heat; I so wanted someone to kiss me.  As I think about it, only Jackson has kissed me since I changed.  I tilt my head, and take Stiles’s lips with my own.  He backs off briefly in surprise, but then his lips are back pressing against mine.  His tongue presses against mine, pushing into my mouth, I relax against him, he rolls on top of me, his hands sliding under my t-shirt as I moan into his mouth…

 

“Boys, I’ve made some pancakes,” my mom’s voice comes from my doorway, “I swear to god I’m getting you a lock for this door,” she shouts as the door closes loudly.  From the hall she shouts, “Breakfast, kitchen, now.”

 

Chapter Text

 

 

My mom didn’t say anything during breakfast about walking in on me and Stiles kissing on my bed with me only wearing a pair of panties and a t-shirt.  She did have a lot to say out the fact I had broken my phone and that I’d need to pay to get it fixed from what I was paid by Deaton for working shifts at the clinic.  She also isn’t happy about me ‘streaking through the neighbourhood’, in truth neither am I; Stiles does defend me though pointing out that I wasn’t exactly thinking clearly due to the effects of my heat, only for my mom to point out that we could hardly have explained that to the sheriff’s department if I had been arrested.

 

After breakfast my mom heads to bed; she’s just back from her shift at the hospital and needs some sleep before she has to head back for her next shift this evening.  Stiles and I are left alone in the kitchen with the strict instructions of ‘no sex’; though as my mom heads up the stairs to her room I hear her say to herself ‘at least not while I’m in the house’.

 

As my mom’s door closes I turn back to Stiles and his eyes fall to my lips; his tongue quickly running over his top lip before his teeth pull at his bottom lip.

“You know…” he starts seemingly having trouble concentrating on what he is saying, his eyes never leaving my lips, “You need to control your pheromones, otherwise we’re gonna end up making out again…”

“What’s wrong with that?” I ask, taking a step towards him.

“We need to talk…”

“We are…” I interrupt him as I lean in against him; my hands lightly grip his wrists and I run them up his arms to his shoulders.  His eyes rise to meet mine.

“Scott,” his voice his husky with desire, “You need to stop and we need to talk; about me…” I kiss him gently on the lips, “and Derek, and…” I kiss him again and my brain catches up on him saying ‘me and Derek’…

“Oh my god… you’re Derek’s mate; I can’t make out with the mate of an alpha of a pack I’m not a member of,” the words tumbling from my mouth in panic as my heart thuds rapidly in my chest.  If Derek hated me already for upsetting Stiles, then he’s gonna kill me for kissing him.

“Scott,” Stiles says calmly, “We talked about this upstairs, remember?”

“No, but you still love Derek, you can’t break up with him.  You’re mated to each other; that’s for life.”  I turn and leave, heading back up to my room to get dressed.

 

“I can’t be with someone I don’t trust, and after the way he allowed the pack to treat you, the way he treated you,” Stiles states as he follows me into my bedroom, the defeat and sadness evident in his voice, “I can’t imagine looking Derek in the eye as if nothing happened…”

I roll my eyes at him.

“Stiles, when do you ever trust someone easily.  You are suspicious of everybody, constantly doubting their actions, and use your dad’s access to law enforcement data to do background checks; until someone has proven themselves to you beyond a shadow of a doubt you don’t trust them.  You didn’t trust Derek, Isaac, or Erica, and you wouldn’t have changed your mind about that unless they had earned your trust.  You can’t let one mistake destroy that.”

“This isn’t a ‘mistake’ Scott.  They could have killed you last night, and you can’t just let that go with ‘it’s was the full moon amplifying their anger…”

“You did, when it was me that nearly killed you on the full moon,” I remind him.

“That was different, it wasn’t you it was…”

“The moon…”

“Let's not forget YOU didn't actually do anything to me, they can't say the same…”

“We still need to work to control it, and if we’re already in an emotional state it makes it so much harder to keep control.  They were angry because of how I’d treated you…”  I turn to the sound of my window opening.

 

“And Derek didn't do a damn thing to try and stop them,” Jackson fumes as he climbs into my room, “Are you okay?” he asks me as he stands up and I notice his black eye.

“What happened to you?” Stiles and I ask at the same time.

“My alpha took issue with me taking the pack to town over what they did,” Jackson replies, “I went to the loft to rip them a new one for what they did.  So I start tearing into them…”

“What!?” I gasp at the thought of Jackson fighting with his pack.

“Verbally.  I wasn’t going to physically attack three betas and an alpha; I might have been pissed off at them and angry, but I’m not suicidal.” Jackson clarifies, “Not that I would be against bashing someone’s head in right about now.  Anyway, instead of arguing with me Isaac, Erica, and Boyd, just curl in on themselves.  Isaac saying he’s no better than his dad, and Erica crying about how batman isn’t ever going to forgive her; whatever that means.  Derek tells me I don’t need to tell him that he fucked up and has possibly lost the best thing in his life…”

“So what did you say that got you the black eye?” Stiles asks with a look of confusion that possibly is mirrored on me.

“That this was just as much your fault,” Jackson says nodding his head to indicate Stiles, “As it is Scott’s.  That a real best friend wouldn’t have been so manipulative and hidden the fact he was dating the alpha he wanted his friend to be claimed by, and that you should have listened more to what Scott said he wanted and needed instead of deciding based on what you thought was best for him, and that after you had fought you could have actually made an effort to come over and talked to him instead of just texting and then forgetting about him when he didn’t reply.”

“Jacks! That’s not fair,” I shout as Stiles exclaims, “He can’t go around hitting people for saying what’s mostly the truth!” as he grabs his phone and storms into my bathroom.

 

“I messed up too, Scott” Jackson says as he hangs his head, “We were all pushing you to deal with how you’d been changed the way we thought you should, and it might have been for the best of reasons, but I should have asked you about the underwear before buying it for you.  I want to believe that I just thought you’d be more comfortable in it than regular boxers or briefs, but I also know that’s not the only reason I did it and I should have given you more time to get used to… how you’d changed before starting anything sexual…”

“It’s not like you forced me to do anything,” I tell him.

“I didn't ask if you wanted to do anything either.  So, you never answered my question,” he says looking up and ignoring my comment, “Are you okay?  Stiles’s text said the cuts and welts weren’t healing.”

“It’s nothing,” I lie.

“If it was nothing, you would have healed by now,” Jackson says, his voice rumbling with the effort to hold back an angry growl, “They raped…”

No!” I interrupt him, “They didn’t; I already had this out with Stiles, you’re both wrong…”

“NO!” Jackson vehemently states, “You went there for sex, because you were in heat and couldn’t say no; so you went to Derek and the pack for safety and to be taken care of.  But what they did you didn’t consent to; so when they started doing something that you didn’t consent to then it became rape.”

“Things just got out of hand because it was the full moon,” I argue.  I feel myself start to gasp for air, my heart is thudding; Stiles backed down on this, why won’t Jackson. 

“I get that the moon had an effect, I just experienced it, but that doesn’t change the fact they committed rape, and Derek didn’t stop them.”

“No, no, no…” I can’t breathe; as I black out I feel Jackson’s arms wrap around me and fall against his chest.

 


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I come around to the sound of whispered voices; I am lying on my bed between Jackson curled against my back and Stiles pressed against my front.

“You okay?” Jackson asks from behind.  I hear the genuine concern in his voice.

“I didn’t know werewolves could have a panic attack, buddy,” Stiles mumbles against my t-shirt, where his head is resting against my neck.

“What were you guys talking about?” I ask.

“Let’s talk about you first,” Stiles asserts, “Like Jackson asked, are you okay?”

“Fine,” I say, “I didn’t have a panic attack, I just…”

“Got very anxious and worked up when talking about…”

“I wasn’t raped!” I seethe

“Fine,” Jackson says behind me, “Then tell me how you wanted scratched so deeply, and belted so harshly, that your body isn’t healing bruises, cuts, and welts, that some betas, not an alpha, left on you; tell me how you consented to that!”

 

“I… I just… I wa… I needed…” I know that what happened wasn’t exactly what I went therefore, and the cuts and welts hurt, but… in the end I say, “They didn’t mean to.”

“They possibly didn’t mean to, but they did and Derek didn’t stop them,” Stiles says.

“Scott, even a human has trouble coming to terms with what you went through.  I get that you want to make everything right.  I even understand why you think that if you pretend that they didn’t do anything wrong we can all just move on, but you’re forgetting one thing.” Jackson says.

“Oh, and what's that.” I ask, indulging him.

“My…” Jackson begins, and looks over at Stiles before continuing, “Our, top priority is you. Derek, and the rest of them will never be as important to me as you are.  You come first Scotty, not them; and for all your talk about how the situation is grey because of the full moon, they didn't make some simple mistake, they did something horrible.  They could have killed you, as it is you’re not healing like you should.  And given what you are you’re vulnerable to them.”

I’m speechless at his words; it seems like ages before I gather my thoughts.

“Is that what you were talking about?” I finally ask.

“Talking about?” Stiles repeats, lifting his head to look at me.  I look at him with a stare that I hope conveys I don’t want him to keep anything from me.  At his resigned look as he flops back on the bed beside me I know he got the message.

 

“Stiles was telling me how I was wrong about him not coming over here to talk to you, and I was explaining the problem with his plan to form a separate pack from Derek’s,” Jackson answers.

“A separate pack?!” I seize on as I don’t want to talk about ignoring Stiles messages or him coming to my door.  And anyway I didn’t think Stiles would give up on Derek; I realise in fact that I was counting on him making up with the alpha, hoping that he’d see what happened wasn’t as bad as he and Jackson seem to think.  From the moment I left my room last night and ran to Derek’s loft all I was thinking about was getting fucked and claimed by him, by Derek.  Even now, with my heat gone I still feel the need to be claimed by the alpha; the need I suppressed and fought.  “Why… how can you form a separate pack?”

“We wouldn’t truly be a pack,” Jackson says, “We’d be two omega werewolves and an Ovate.”

“A what?”

“An Ovate,” Stiles repeats before explain, “A trainee druid emissary.  You remember how Deaton said I had a spark, and that I was able to create the mountain ash circle; well, he’s been teaching me more.”

“When?”

“Since we tried to capture the kanima at the rave,” I feel Jackson flinch behind me when Stiles says ‘kanima’, “I would go see Deaton when you weren’t working at the clinic…”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” I wail at him.

 

“Can you two have a domestic afterwards; we’re getting off topic,” Jackson grumbles, “I was explaining that two beta werewolves and trainee druid don’t make a pack.  You need three betas and an alpha to be a pack.”

“It doesn’t mean that we can’t consider ourselves our own pack,” Stiles counters, “We might not be as strong as them, but I’d trust us to take care of Scott and protect him…”

“I don’t need protecting, I’m not some damsel in distress; I can defend myself!” I take offence at Stiles words.

“He doesn’t mean that you can’t defend yourself, he means during your heat; that we could take care of you and protect you from unwanted… attention,” Jackson explains.

“And agree the limits of what happens regarding your… more specific needs; and stick to them,” Stiles adds.

“Huh!?” both myself and Jackson respond in confusion.

“You know,” Stiles says, giving me this wide-eyed look as if he expects me to know what he’s talking about, “The more special stuff you like.”

“Does Scotty have some kinks?” Jackson’s voice sounding like Stiles on Christmas day if he found an original boxed Star Wars Power of the Force Electronic Millennium Falcon under the tree.  I know I’m blushing; now that I’ve realised what Stiles was alluding to.

“I…” I start to say, not know what I want to admit to.

“You need to work on your kink list,” Stiles states, “I have one I created from some I found on line, I’ll send it to you and you can fill it in.  Then any play will be agreed, everything will be negotiated and your limits respected.”

And it’s clear that Stiles, and maybe Jackson, seem to know more about this than I do as I wonder what a kink list is.

 


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I’m looking down the list of ‘kinks’ that Stiles has gathered on a spreadsheet on my laptop.  There are four columns; Activity, Experience, Willingness, and Comments.  His instructions for completing the list are clearly written on the first spreadsheet in the document.

‘For each activity give your experience as Yes, No, or N/A.  Willingness should be rated as:

NO – I will not do that item under any circumstance (a hard limit). There is nothing wrong with indicating 'no' on an item

1 – I don’t want, or I have no desire, to do this activity, and don’t like doing it; ordinarily I would object to doing it, but I may agree to permit a known and trusted Dominant to do it if they really wanted it (a soft limit)

2 – Will do this activity, but it has no special appeal for me, but wouldn’t object it if was asked of me

3 – I usually like doing this activity, on an infrequent / special occasion basis

4 – I like doing this activity and would like to experience it on a regular basis

5 – This is a wild turn-on for you and you would like it as often as possible

Where an activity has been agreed you can still use a safe word or signal to end the scene.’

 

Stiles has pre filled the Experience and Willingness columns of every row with ‘NO’.

 

“I’ve been working on this since I helped remove – at least if you hadn’t hidden a backup – your porn collection from your laptop,” he says.

“Where did you find all these?” I ask, “They can’t all be real.”

“Some are from BDSM sites I found, some are things I added given we know the supernatural world is real, and then I found this site F-List and it had a section on kink information, so I added all of those too…”

“Angels?  Bears?  Centaurs?  Foxes?  What’s a Nekomimi?  Vampires?  And Dragons?  Pokemon?  Really Stiles?”

“Well given werewolves are real I thought I should include anything that might be a possibility; and a nekomimi is a human with cat ears, a cat tail, or other feline features…”

“Stiles, no animals!  I’ll only be with members of the pack…”

“If we re-join Derek’s pack,” Jackson says looking over my shoulder at the list, “Speaking of which, when do I get to see your porn collection.”

I ignore Jackson’s comment about my porn collection.

“Okay, so, you just go through the list changing the NO to what you’re comfortable with.  Nothing is set in stone and we can change things later if you want,” he explains to me, “But it will be binding; only those things that you have as 5, 4, or 3, will be allowed, and Jackson and me will stick to that, at least until you feel comfortable going beyond that.  then we can talk about pushing your limits.  That sound fair?”

“Yeah, I guess.  You’ve put a lot more thought into this than I have.”

“Anything you don’t know what it is we can talk about and look up on line,” Stiles adds.

“What’s ‘riding the horse’?” Jackson asks, his brow crinkling in confusion; my own confusion at what it means being satisfied when Stiles searches the term on-line and the video of a woman straddling a saw horse as she lowers herself onto a large dildo, a man then proceeding to whip her back as she raises and lowers herself on the dildo.

“So, that’s what ‘riding the horse’ is,” Jackson smirks at me, no doubt having caught the change in my scent as we watched the scene.

 

I try to ignore Jackson’s eyes watching me as I return to go through the list.  there are hundreds of things Stiles has in the list.  Most things I have no idea what they are, or if I’d want to allow them, so I leave those set to ‘no’.  But things I’ve seen on-line, things I have saved to my laptop, I start to change from the pre-set, changing only those I’d like to do.

 

Activity

Experience

Willingness

Comment

Biting

Yes

4

 

Femboys

No

3

 

Handjobs/Fingerjobs

Yes

4

 

Kissing

Yes

5

 

Leather

No

5

 

Licking

Yes

4

 

Masturbation

Yes

4

 

Sexy/Slutty clothing

Yes

4

 

Spanking

Yes

5

 

Anal Sex (Receiving)

Yes

4

 

Rimming (Giving)

Yes

4

 

Rimming (Receiving)

Yes

4

 

Breast/Nipple Play

Yes

3

 

Crossdressing

Yes

5

Have some experience if wearing the panties Jackson bought me counts

Double Penetration

Yes

3

 

Multiple Partners

Yes

3

 

Strap-ons

Yes

3

 

Forced Clothes-wearing

No

4

 

Forced Nudity

No

5

 

Orgasm Control/Denial

No

4

Is this possible now?

Vaginal Sex (Receiving)

Yes

4

 

Bukkake

No

3

 

Creampie

No

3

 

Cum Marking

Yes

5

 

Cunnilingus (Giving)

Yes

4

 

Cunnilingus (Receiving)

Yes

5

 

Face-Fucking

Yes

4

 

Fellatio (Performing)

Yes

4

 

Humiliation (Private)

Yes

3

 

Knotting/Tying

Yes

4

 

Oral Sex (Giving)

Yes

4

 

Oral Sex (Receiving)

Yes

4

 

Leash & Collar

No

4

 

Light/Medium Bondage

No

4

 

Master/Pet

No

3

 

Master/slave

No

3

 

 

 

“You are a kinky-boy,” Jackson breathes against my skin as he sits behind me, and looking over my shoulder at the screen he rests his chin on my shoulder.  I blush at comment, but I can smell his arousal as he looks at what I have selected.

“Like I said, you can add or remove stuff from the list as we go,” Stiles adds, “There’s one more thing we need to talk about,” both Jackson and I turn to look up at Stiles as he paces on the other side of my bed, “Well two things, but we need to deal with one first.”

 

He stops pacing as he turns to face me.

“Did you read any of the messages I sent?”  The sadness tangible in his eyes.

“No,” I can’t look either of them in the eye as I reply.

“Why?” Stiles voice is barely a whisper.

“Because I… I was mad at myself for hurting you, and I was sure you were just making it up about a way to change me back to get me to talk; I wasn’t ready to talk and the closer it got to the full moon the more anxious and…” I glance up and see Jackson watching me, “Stuff I got.”  I see him snicker, even as he tries to hide it, clearly both of them get what ‘stuff’ I was meaning.  At least Stiles only raises an eyebrow.

“Well, you were half right,” Stiles replies, “I was using it as an excuse to get you talking, but there were a couple of possible cures for Gerard’s curse.”

“Were?!” both Jackson and me enquire.

“One needed to be done before your heat,” Stiles explains, “Not that we knew if it would work.  I couldn’t find anything to say it would, it might have needed to be done before you changed at all, but the wording said before the change was complete, and I thought that might mean once you’d had a heat,” Stiles rambles on, clearly nervous as his words run into each other.

“Okay,” I say which stops his flow of words, “I guess we’ll never know now if you were right.  I guess I should have answered the door to you.”

 

“You said there were a couple of possible cures,” Jackson hesitantly reminds Stiles.

“Yeah,” Stiles drawls out, “The second one is a little trickier.  It’s still a possibility, but I’m not sure how feasible it is.  It might make things worse…”

“What is it?” I feel my face scowl as I ask.

“Well…” Stiles squirms as he answers, “It’s basically replacing one curse with another, this one is to change you to the opposite sex...”

“What?!” I leap from the chair.

“Like I said,” Stiles has his hands up in front of him as if trying to placate me, “I’m a little dubious about this one working.  It might work as you have mostly female parts, but it might turn you fully female as you identify as male, or it might just change the anatomy you have so that you end up with breasts and a cock and balls…”

Jackson growls at Stiles the longer he talks.

“The choice has to be yours, Scott,” Stiles adds scowling at Jackson.

 

I sit back down confused.  It’s a possible way to turn me back, but… there’s no guarantee and…

“If it turned me fully female, could you do it again to turn me male?” I ask

“No,” Stiles sadly states, “Deaton says the magic of it would stop the spell working on the same person more than once.”

“Then no, I don’t want to risk it.”

 

“Okay, that leaves one other thing to tell you,” he says.

“What is it?” I ask, worry starting to gnaw at me as he paces back and forth.

“It’s something Derek said when I called him earlier,” Stiles stops pacing and turns to face me, “He said that if the IUD that Deaton fitted hasn’t worked then you might already be claimed by him; if you’re pregnant.”

 


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The next morning I’m lying in my bed thinking over what Stiles said the previous day; about how if the IUD hasn’t worked and I’m pregnant that I’m already claimed as Derek’s concubine.  The pack’s concubine really.  But my head keeps getting stuck at ‘if I’m pregnant’.  I want to be claimed, it would take some of the worry about being a pack bi… about being an intersex werewolf, Stiles says that pack bitch is an archaic and derogatory term; but I don’t want to be pregnant.

 

I hear someone at the front door.

“Scott, you have a visitor, I’m just leaving for work,” my mom calls up to me, “I’ll see you tonight.”

I pull on some sleep pants and a t-shirt and head downstairs, expecting Stiles to be raiding the kitchen, but there is no-one there.  I go to the front door and open it to find Jackson standing there.

“Finally,” he says, “Get dressed I’m taking you to breakfast.”

“What?” I say as my brain tries to catch up.

He turns me around and pushes me into my own house, the carrier bag in his hand hitting me in the back.

“I said, get dressed, so I can take you out to breakfast,” he replies walking in behind me and closing the door, “And I got something for you.”

 

"So, Stiles said you were starting to heal now,” Jackson says; half asking how I am as we walk into my room.

“Yeah, I’m all healed,” I say taking my shirt off to change.  His smile returns as he watches me dump the shirt on the floor.

“Slob,” he comments, picking the shirt up and placing it in the hamper.

“Wait,” he calls as I’m about to pull a pair of pants on over the satin panties he’d previously bought me.

“I’ve bought you some new stuff…” he says hesitantly, “That I thought you could wear under a shirt and pants, and no-one but us would know.”  He opens the carrier bag and puts the items on my bed.

 

I stare at the assortment of lace, silk, and satin underwear and hosiery Jackson has laid out.  There are several pairs of Body by Victoria Thong Panty in an array of colours, Dream Angels Lace Trim Thong Panty again in varying colours; all from Victoria’s Secret.  There are pairs of Zuri Brief and garter belts from Agent Provocateur, and Bridget Allover Lace Thongs and Jessica Lace Tanga Panties in several colours from Frederick’s of Hollywood.  There were also several lace garter belts and bras and at least a dozen pairs of stockings.

 

Jackson suddenly seems nervous and unsure of himself as I stand in silence looking at the selection spread out on my bed.  I know he’s worried at my reaction, and part of me is too.  I know cross dressing was something I put a ‘5’ beside on the list, but I don’t know if I’m ready; on the other hand I can feel the buzz of excitement stir in me as I look over the range of lingerie Jackson has bought me.

 

“You don’t have to if you don’t like them,” Jackson says, and I know he’s hurt.

“What? No, it’s just…” I stumble over an answer, “There’s so much, you must have spent a fortune.”

“You do like them, right?” he says, and sounds so unsure of himself, so not like Jackson, “I mean, I saw before that you mostly looked at the lace and satin, so I tried to stick to those, and I thought I maybe went overboard with the blue last time…”

“It’s…” I pick up the black Paris Lace bra, the cups are so small that they don’t really exist.

“I got the bras from that place that makes them for men,” Jackson says, “The same with most of the stockings and garters…”

“When?” I ask, the only place I can think he means – and maybe I looked into it once before Gerard cursed me – he would have had to order on line and wait for a delivery; he couldn’t have bought them since last night.

“I ordered them after you spent the night at mine,” he says.

 

I pick up the Dream Angels denim print Lace Trim Thong Panty and pull it on, the back feels strange with nothing covering my ass cheeks and the strip of material sliding into the crack.  But I catch the subtle shift in Jackson’s scent; the burst of pride and arousal.

 

Next I pick up the blue lace Ray of Sunshine Bralette that has a black trim around the edge, I figure that colour wise it’s the better match for the panties than the plain black.  I have trouble adjusting the straps so that it fits properly and look to Jackson.

“Can you help?” I ask him.  His lips twitch into a smile, and there’s a shine to his eyes.

“Sure,” he answers as he strides over to me, the cocky Jackson returning.  As he alters the length of the straps and adjusts the position of the bra, his fingers brush over the lace covering my nipples pulling a gasp from me; I shudder and lean back against his chest as his thumb and finger deliberately tweak my nipples through the material and he lightly kisses my cheek.

Once the straps on the bra are corrected he also helps me into the black Dream Angels lace garter belt; he rolls the sheer black stockings up my legs and fastens the tops to the garter belt.

 

Looking at myself in the mirror as he stands behind me I know my panties are damp from my arousal; Jackson nuzzles against my neck and I can see his fangs pushing to form.  His eyes are vibrant blue and my own shift to their yellow.

“You look so good,” he huffs against my ear, “And you smell so sweet.” 

He closes his eyes and I can see him fight to control his instinct; and I’m not sure I want him to.

“Let’s get some pants on you and a shirt, so I can buy you breakfast,” he says wrestling control of his wolf.

 

I pull on a baggy white oxford short sleeved shirt over my bra; unless the shirt is pulled tight against my chest the blue and black of the bra can’t be seen.

“Daring,” Jackson says smirking at me, “Still I should expect the guy that followed Stiles into the woods to look for half a dead body would like a bit of danger.”

I pull on a pair of black jeans over my stockings and realise that the garter belt is going to sit above the waist of my jeans.  With the shirt tucked in it would pull it tight and I’d risk showing off the bra and garter belt.  I untuck the shirt.  Jackson just smirks at me.

 

Once I put on my trainers we’re ready to leave.

“Oh, I almost forgot,” Jackson says as we’re about to walk out the room; he turns back and directs me back into the room, walking over to the bed he pulls something else from the carrier bag.  “Here’s your new phone.”  He hands me the new iPhone 4S.

“What?!” I shout.

“Stiles said how your old phone was broken, so I got you this.”

“But…”

“You need a phone.”

“But I can’t…”

“To late, no refunds.  By the way, I’ve already put Stiles’s number and my number in for you, and I got Deaton’s number and his clinic’s number in there too.  I didn’t know your mom’s so you’ll need to add that yourself.”

“Jackson, I don’t make enough to pay the contract on this,” I protest.

“It’s on my contract, so I’m paying for it, I can easily afford to, trust me,” he firmly states, “Now, let’s go.”

 

Chapter Text

 

 

I feel strange walking down the street as we head to the local Denny’s.  Jackson has parked across the street and down the block.  There’s a light breeze blowing my shirt against my chest as we walk, and I’m sure that the people we pass can see my bra.

“Hey Jacks, Scott,” I hear Danny’s voice call out and look up to see him just coming out of the gym.  He looks surprised, possibly wondering what Jackson and I are doing together; or maybe wondering what I’m wearing under my shirt.

“Hey,” Jackson responds.

“Whatcha up to?” Danny asks.

“Just getting some breakfast,” Jackson answers, and Danny raises his eyebrows; clearly questioning why Jackson would be having breakfast with me.

“Yeah, mind if I join you?  I could do with something to eat after my workout.”

“Sure,” Jackson smiles at him, but I can feel the irritation crawling under his skin at the intrusion.

 

Denny’s is pretty quiet when we enter, and sitting at the table as we eat there’s unease as Danny sits between Jackson and me.  Danny’s eyes convey the questions running through his head; wondering what’s going on between Jackson and me, why he paid for my breakfast, why their usual banter is stilted and conversation at the table so difficult.  He tries to find out where Jackson has been since the lacrosse game and what he’s been up to; but Jackson’s answers are evasive and non-committal.

“I gotta go use the bathroom,” I say, excusing myself from the table.

 

The bathroom’s empty when I walk in and I head to one of the stalls to sit and pee.  Something I’m getting used to doing.  As I’m finishing I hear someone else enter, the smells in the place make it next to impossible to for me to tell who.  There’s knock on the door of the stall I’m in.

“Open up,” I hear Jackson say from the other side of the door.

“Jacks?!”

“Quickly,” he says with some urgency.

 

I reach over and unlock the stall door as I try to pull up my panties.  He comes into the stall and pulls me up, my panties are still bunched up around the tops of my stockings where they are fastened to the garter belt.  He takes my lips in a bruising kiss.

“God, you have no idea how hot it was knowing what you are wearing while sitting there eating breakfast with Danny at the table.  I couldn’t concentrate on anything he was saying thinking about you in your bra and panties,” Jackson says between kisses.  His hands running over my stomach and down over my sex.

“I want you so much, can I fuck you?” he growls out, his eyes blown with need.

“Yes… but… Stiles said we couldn’t, not until we know the contraceptive works,” I gasp out as his fingers graze over my quickly dampening tightness.

“Ass,” he gruffly responds.

“Ugh?”

“I can fuck your ass,” he explains, “Though frankly if you’re already pregnant it’s not like I could get you pregnant again.”

 

Jackson is sitting on the toilet seat while I slide up and down on his shaft; he has one hand trying to cover my mouth, while the fingers of the other tease and stroke over my front sweet spot as his cock rubs and hits at the one in my rear.

I feel Jackson’s wolf rumble just under the surface and know his knot is forming; it breaches into my ass and locks us together and I cry out as I come, squirting my release over his hand again.

 

“Guys,” Danny’s voice comes from the other side of the stall door, “I think the staff are calling the cops.”  He knocks on the door and it swings open, and Danny stands there wide eyed at the sight before him.  Jackson hadn’t locked it when he came in.  I know my eyes are shifted, and I’m sure Jackson’s are too from the growl he directs at Danny.

“Shit,” he exclaims, “That explains a lot, except for why McCall is wearing stockings, panties and a bra, and why doesn’t he have a cock anymore?”

 


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Thankfully Danny is able to convince – somehow – the staff that there was nothing illicit happening in the bathroom and that I was just throwing up, maybe having become ill from something.  I guess I must look ill, I know I feel sick at Danny having found us like that – with me dressed the way I am – and I’m worrying about what he is going to do.

 

The three of us return to Jackson’s car and he drives back to my house, I text Stiles on the way.

 

I’m shaking as we enter the house; my mom is still at work so we sit in the living room.  Jackson and I sitting together on the couch where he takes my hand, comforting both of us, while Danny sits across from us on the armchair.

“So, you’re werewolves,” Danny says, “I knew there had to be a pack in the area, the ‘cougar’ attacks over the last year had a sense of something supernatural about them, but…”

“How do you know about werewolves?” Jackson growls at his friend, putting himself between Danny and me, “Are you a hunter?”

“What’s the emergency!?” Stiles shouts as he sprints through the front door, somewhat out of breath, and bangs it closed behind him.  “Danny,” he says catching his breath, “Didn’t know you were here, how ya doing?”

“Fine,” Danny smiles at him, “Didn’t know my best friend was a werewolf, so a little shocked at that, was even more surprised to find him fucking McCall in the ass in a bathroom stall in Denny’s, though the most surprising part of my day so far,” I whine at what Danny’s gonna say next, “Was seeing McCall in stockings, a bra and panties, with Jackson’s fingers in his pussy while he was fucking his ass.”

“Uh-huh,” Stiles says, his head nodding emphatically up and down as Danny talks.  Stiles turns to Jackson and me, “A public bathroom?  You couldn’t have waited to get him home?”

 

Jackson lets a low rumble of a growl out at Stiles before turning his attention back to Danny.

“You haven’t answered my question,” he snarls at him.

“No, I’m not a hunter,” Danny says, his tone implying Jackson is stupid for asking, “Don’t you remember what my name means?  Mahealani, ‘night of the full moon’."

“You’re not a werewolf,” Jackson says accusingly as he sniffs the air, “I’d smell it if you were.”

“No, I’m not a werewolf, but werewolves aren’t the only ones connected to the full moon,” Danny counters him.

 

“So, what are you?” Stiles questions him.

“I didn’t say I wasn’t human,” Danny replies evasively.

“But what are you?” Stiles presses him.

“I’m a Menehune,” Danny replies, he must see the confusion on my face as he adds, “Hawaiian faeries.”

“Menehune,” Stiles says sceptically, “You don’t look like a gnome or brownie to me; you may be a wonderful person, but you’re anything but ‘small of stature’.”

“You’ve heard the legends?” Danny asks him, sounding slightly impressed.

“I’ve read a bit, not that I could find much,” Stiles says in reply.

“Yeah, probably a lot of what you’ve read is misinformation, like the description of what we look like,” Danny smiles as he replies, “Best way to hide in plain sight is if no-one knows what they’re looking for.  So, McCall and Jacks are beta werewolves, but you’re not and you’re not an alpha.  So, what are you?” he throws Stiles’s question back at him.

“He’s a trainee emissary,” I say proudly before Stiles can answer.

“You’re an ovate?” Danny queries.

“Yeah, well, maybe not as much as I hoped,” Stiles sullenly replies, “Outside of throwing down a ring of mountain ash, I don’t seem to have much aptitude for anything outside of alchemy.  I’d be top of Snape’s class at Hogwarts.”

“You’ve only been training with Deaton for a few weeks; you can’t give up!” I exclaim.

“I didn’t say I was giving up, only that I’m finding it more difficult than I thought it would be, and maybe, just maybe, I’m not as magical as I thought.”  I can hear the sadness in Stiles’s voice.

“Not everyone can handle mountain ash,” Danny says, “If you can create barriers with it then you can do a lot more than most people could.”

“And not everyone knows how to mix up a Molotov cocktail,” Jackson adds

“And you’re the best at finding out stuff, and coming up with plans, and…” I relax into the touch of Jackson’s hand on the back of my neck, calming me and taking the worry I have over Stiles being upset.

“Thanks for the pep talk,” Stiles smiles at me, and the last of my uneasiness melts away as I smile back.

“So, what about the alpha of your little pack?” Danny asks.

“We don’t have one,” Jackson states, “Scott and Stiles were never really part of the pack, and after… the last full moon, I left the pack to join them.”

“You’re omegas?  Isn’t that a little dangerous?” Danny sounds a little concerned that Jackson left his pack, “What happened that made you leave your pack?”

Jackson looks between Stiles and me.

“It mostly concerns Scott,” Stiles says, “So it’s up to him how much of the story is told.”

 

So over the rest of the afternoon we tell Danny everything that has happened starting with finding half a body in the woods, through killing the alpha that gave me the bite, Gerard and the kanima, through to my changing and my heat.

 


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I sit in the chair across from Ms. Morrell in Deaton’s office contemplating how I ended up here.

 

It was the day after the breakfast at Denny’s incident.  Stiles was still fixated on what happened during my heat, and Jackson wasn’t much better.  We were in my bedroom with me trying to explain – again – that it was the full moon.

“I don’t need to talk to Morrell,” I say, I might have shouted, at them in frustration, “ I wasn’t raped!

I can’t deal with them going over this again, I yank open my bedroom door and rush down the stairs.  My mom is standing there; compassion and worry shining in her eyes.

Scott, what’s wrong?!” she demands. 

“It’s nothing,” I automatically reply.

“I know something’s bothering you, and if you want to tell me I’m here,” she says, there’s a sadness in her scent and her eyes, “If you want to talk…” she leaves the rest unsaid.

Maybe I should tell her, maybe she can get Stiles and Jackson to stop harassing me over the what happened the night of my heat.

“It’s just…” I start, not sure how to continue, “Things didn’t go so well the night of… you know, with the full moon and everything, and…”

 

I tell her how the pack was angry at me and how Erica, Boyd, and Isaac lost control and I got hurt; that Stiles and Jackson keep insisting that it was abuse or rape.

 

We’re sitting round the dining room table.  My mom is glaring at Stiles and Jackson in equal measure.

“This is my fault,” Stiles says, increasing the glare from my mom, “I shouldn’t have made the pack keep their promise to help Scott through his heat if he called, I should have…”

“It’s no big deal,” I interrupt him, trying to diffuse the tension, but that only seems to add to the worry on their faces, “Things just got out of hand because of the full moon, and they were angry because of what I said to Stiles and that I wasn’t talking to him.”

“If it was no big deal,” Jackson slowly says, “Then you wouldn’t flinch every time we touch you, or hug you, before you relax.”

“No I don’t,” I quickly deny.

“Yes, you do,” Stiles softly contradicts me.

“We’re werewolves,” Jackson continues, “It’s not like we can go talk to a just any therapist.  I’ve been going to Morrell every week since…”

“What?” I gasp, I see the shock on my mom’s face too, but Stiles seems to have known.

“I needed help dealing with the memory of what I did when I was the Kanima; I don’t remember everything, but I get bits and pieces, flashes of… things I did.  It was Stiles’s idea to talk with Morrell, he told Derek about it and got Derek to get me to go.  And she’s helped; enough that it stopped my parents talking of sending me to Eichen House.”

“Maybe,” my mom says calmly forced, her arms stretched out, palms face down against the table, “Maybe you could go talk to her, just once; just to get her opinion,” she faces me squarely, her eyes pleading, “And if after that she agrees with you that it’s no big deal, and you still think it’s no big deal, then Stiles and Jackson need to stop badgering you about it.  Deal?”  She looks between the three of us.  Finally, I see a way to get them to put this to rest.

So, we arranged for me to talk to her informally, here at Deaton’s.

 

“So, it was just the effects of the full moon and nothing about what happened troubles you?” she looks directly at me as she speaks.

“No, I’m fine.  My mom, Jackson, and Stiles are worrying over nothing.”

“So you have no issues with intimacy and being touched.”

“No, I’m intimate with Jackson all the time, we’re always touching,” I say, then think about what I said and quickly add, “I don’t mean we’re having sex all the time, we’re just close, and cuddle and stuff…” my words dry up.

“So, how do you feel when Jackson or Stiles touch you, or when your mom hugs you?”

“Fine.”

“There’s no hesitation?”

“No.”

“Really?”

“No…” I repeat less assuredly.

“Scott, I want you to think on how you would interact with the pack now, after what happened during the full moon.  Would react as if it was ‘no big deal’?”

“Yeah.”

“What if Erica or Isaac tried to hug you?”

“It…” I want to say ‘it would be fine’, but I feel my heart start to race at the thought of Erica smiling widely as she wraps her arms around me, and…

“It’s okay Scott, we can pick this up when we talk again, okay?”

“Yeah, okay,” I say.

 


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It’s been ten days since Jackson took me to breakfast and Danny discovered us fucking in the bathroom.  Since then he’s basically become part of our pseudo-pack.  He and Stiles trading information on supernatural creatures for Stiles’s Bestiary, and Danny helping Stiles with his ‘homework’ from Deaton.  But over these days Stiles has been becoming more irritable and depressed.

 

“I wish I could think of a way to cheer Stiles up,” I say.  I’m currently lying on my side on the couch at home, my knees drawn up and a hot water bottle pressed against my stomach.  Jackson is sitting at my feet lazily rubbing circles with his hand on my lower back, as black veins travel up his arm drawing away the pain.  “He just seems to be getting more down over not being able to do the magic like he thinks he needs to as an emissary.”

“That’s not what’s getting him down,” Jackson says, I turn my head and give him a disbelieving look, “It’s not the only thing that’s getting him down,” he amends.

“Then what is?” I ask.

“He and Derek shared a claiming bite, they fully bonded as mates.  Now they are apart, and that bond is telling both of them how wrong that is.”

“But Stiles is human, how would he be affected when he’s not a werewolf?”

“Even if Stiles isn’t fully magical, he at least has a spark, that’s enough to affect him similar to how a werewolf is affected.”

“How do you know so much about it?” I ask, a little harshly, my curiosity peaked, “You’ve been a werewolf for less time than I have.”

“Maybe because I had an alpha that taught me about being a werewolf, instead of relying on what the internet said, and I didn’t fight against my instinct to be part of a pack,” he bites back; but as his hand still rubs at my back and eases the pain I know he’s not that offended.

 

“God!” I shout as another cramp seizes in my abdomen, “I’m going to be going through this, every month!  The IUD was also supposed to make my periods easier,” I bitch, “If this is easier how the hell do women stand having this happen every month?”

“I thought you liked a bit of pain,” he tries to joke.  I just glare murderously at him.

“Sorry,” he apologies; as he looks away I still see the smirk on his lips.

 


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It’s five days since my period ended, and seven days until the next full moon and my next heat.  I don’t think my next heat is going to affect me as much as my last heat.  Over the last couple of weeks I’ve been close to Jackson, Stiles, and Danny.  While I haven’t had sex with Danny we did snuggle on my couch a few times, and I’ve rarely slept alone; usually spending the night with Jackson, or Stiles, or both of them.

 

Yesterday I spent the day at Jackson’s.  I had no idea if his parents even knew I was there as Jackson kept me upstairs, naked; he called it a trial period.  Apparently he wanted to see how much control I wanted to give up, and it turned out to be just like one of my fantasies; he wouldn’t even let me use his bathroom, I had to run across the hall, naked, to use the family one.  I was practically vibrating with a mix of emotions; both fear at being caught and excitement at Jackson dominating me like that.

At one point he had me standing in front of his open window while he fucked me, thrusting into my pussy, his hands on my ass as he pulled me onto his hard cock, slamming us together until his knot swelled and locked us as one.  I wrapped my legs around his waist and my arms clung around his neck as I rode out the orgasm that shook through me.  He walked back to his bed with me holding on to him; when he lay back on the bed I sat straddling him as we waited for his knot to go down.

“Jeez, Jacks, what if someone had seen us?” I asked him.

“Then they’d know how lucky I am,” he said, then added with a smirk, “And how lucky you are that I can make you come so hard.”

 

It wasn’t until this morning when I ran back across from the family bathroom to get dressed and come to work that he told me his parents were in New York and wouldn’t be back until the weekend.

“But knowing how hot being controlled like that gets you, you can be sure I’m going to treat you like this a lot more often,” he whispered in my ear as he fastened my bra.

 

Thinking about it now I get so lost in the feelings it stirs in me I’m startled by the voice behind me.

 

“Can we talk?” Derek’s voice asks.  I turn towards him and hardly recognise the alpha.  He looks so lost and broken.

“Derek?  What are you doing here?”

“I… I just wanted to warn you; there’s an alpha pack in Beacon Hills, and their leader is… he’s after you.  He’s sure I’ve already claimed you, and if I had he’d have to remove me and my pack to be able to claim you himself.  So, I’m taking Isaac and we’re getting out of town.  With luck he’ll follow us.”

“Derek, what are you talking about?  What’s an alpha pack?”

“Tell Stiles… tell him… I know he can’t ever forgive me, but tell him I’m sorry; I’m sorry I failed him, I failed Erica and Boyd.  And Scott, for what it’s worth, if it’s worth anything, I’m sorry I failed you too.”

 

Before I can cross the room he’s gone.

 

 

Chapter Text

 

 

Gerard’s mouth is still opening and closing, no sound emerging from it, as he falls to the ground; the blood and bile spewing from every orifice, blackened by the mountain ash in his system that had caused his body to reject the bite.

 

“Why didn’t you tell me, Scott?” Derek asks from his prone position on the ground, looking up at the beta with hurt in his pleading eyes.

“Because you might be an alpha, but you’re not MY alpha,” Scott replies.  The coldness of the words cold shocking everyone, and cutting deep through Derek’s emotions.

Isaac, Jackson, Allison, Chris, and Stiles, stare open mouthed in shock at Scott’s uncharacteristic callousness.  Peter seems to be amused by the whole scene.

 

Scott turns and walks away, leaving the pack and Stiles to look on his retreating form in disbelief.  His former pack mates feeling betrayed and the hackles of their wolves raised in anger at his deception and rejection.  Stiles confused by the sudden switch in his best friend’s demeanour; the amiable Scott replaced by the cold person that would so callously use or hurt someone.  Derek bites back the sorrowful howl his wolf wants to let loose at the wound the betrayal of being used by someone he trusted and cared for has carved into his chest.  Again.

 


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Stiles turns from his computer screen at the gentle sound of scraping of wood to find Derek lightly stepping through his now open window into his room.

“You know, there are these things called doors,” he snarks; he sees Derek’s brow furrowing as he continues, “My window is not your personal doggy flap.”

“Yeah, I’m sure your dad would be more than happy to let me in your bedroom without questioning why…” the werewolf starts to reply.

“And why are you here?” Stiles cuts into Derek’s response, “Don’t you have some betas you should be tucking up in their little werewolf beds?”

“I came to check that you were okay,” Derek almost snarls at him, “The bruising still looks painful…”  Stiles is sure he heard distress in the alpha’s voice.

 

Stiles opens his mouth to make another smart comment, but Derek’s apparent concern has thrown him.  After Scott’s rejection of him and his pack earlier he didn’t expect to see Derek anytime soon; and not in his bedroom.

“Boyd and Erica told me how you tried to free them from Argent’s basement, and what Gerard did to you,” Derek’s voice a barely restrained growl at those words, “I just wanted to check you were alright; and to say thanks.”

“It’s fine…” Stiles blinks as he answers, thrown by the gratitude and worry over his well-being the alpha is showing him, “It doesn’t hurt too much.”

 

Derek reaches out as if to touch; hand wavering between Stiles’s split lip and black eye, his own lips slightly parted, before his hand falls to his side and he looks down. 

“Thanks for trying to help,” he says before disappearing through Stiles’s open window.

Stiles hears the soft thud as Derek’s feet land on the lawn below, and sits bewildered as the roar of the Camaro’s engine starts and drives off.

 

As Derek speeds away his hand slams down on the steering wheel.  He wanted to take Stiles’s pain, he wants to protect him and make sure he’s safe.  He wants to tell him, but he can’t, he has to wait.  Stiles is still too young, and Derek won’t be like… her.

 


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After the trouble with the Derek and Gerard, Scott had been… off.  And Stiles wasn’t just thinking about how distracted his friend was, he looked… off.  If Stiles didn’t know better he would think he was coming down with the flu or something.

 

At first he put it down to Scott sulking over his break up with Allison.  But then he noticed the other things that weren’t right; the pastiness of his skin, the lack of focus in his eyes, and the lack of energy.  Something was wrong, and Scott seemed oblivious to it.

 

So, Stiles did what he always did and took the initiative.  From what little information he had to go on he was sure that it had to be related to Scott’s declaration of Derek not being his alpha; omegas were weaker and less wolf-y than werewolves in a pack, right?  He was extrapolating here, maybe guessing, but it was his only starting point so he researched; everything he could find on wolf packs, omegas, werewolf pack structures and what happens to omega werewolves.

 

He found a lot; too much actually, and most of it was fifty shades of maybe, possible, and what the fuck.  He never knew there was so much BDSM werewolf porn.  He needed help sifting through the reams of information to find out what is and isn’t true.  He could talk to Deaton, but he wanted a straight answer.  That only left him one source to turn to.  Derek.

 

When Stiles headed out early the next morning, finding Derek’s new wolf den turned out to be easier than he thought.  He saw Isaac at the grocery store and tracked him home.  As Isaac walked along the sidewalk he didn’t seem to even notice Roscoe trailing behind him on the road.

 

When Isaac turns left into a side street Stiles follows and promptly loses sight of him.  He slows down and pulls into the curb, parking his jeep as he looks frantically around trying to catch a glimpse of the blond, curly mop of hair; only to be startled by the passenger door opening and Isaac jumping into the seat.

“If I’d know I was gonna get a lift back to Derek’s I’d have bought more groceries,” Isaac says, flashing a smug smile at Stiles.

“What…”

“You’re not exactly inconspicuous in this old… rust bucket,” the werewolf snarks.

“There’s nothing wrong with Roscoe,” Stiles defends his jeep, “Don’t you listen to the mean puppy,” he says petting the dashboard, “And what makes you think I’m going anywhere near Derek’s?  I don’t even know where he lives now that he’s not hiding out at either the old Hale house or the derelict depot.”

“Which, I expect, is why you were following me,” Isaac smirks at him; ignoring Stiles’s spluttering he continues, “Don’t worry, it’s not much further.”

 

Arriving at Derek’s loft Stiles carries one of the bags of groceries, figuring he should at least do something to help given he’s coming here to ask Derek for help; for Scott, who rejected him and his pack.  He’s sure this is going to go well.  He’s no sooner through the door and Erica launches herself at him, hugging him tightly. Boyd gives him a nod of acknowledgement from the couch he’s sitting on.

“You tried to help,” she sobs against his neck, “I glad you’re okay.”

“It’s fine, no big deal,” Stiles replies, grateful when Isaac takes the bag of groceries from him, freeing his hand allowing him to hug Erica back; looking around the room he sees Jackson brooding in the corner, “Am I crashing some pack event?  Should I come back later?”

“It’s a pack breakfast,” Stiles disentangles himself from Erica’s embrace at Derek’s voice and, looking in his direction, he watches him come down the stairs.

“Uncle Fester still to rise from his crypt?” Stiles can’t help but quip, “How are you gonna have a pack breakfast with Zombie Wolf not around?”

“Peter isn’t pack,” Derek flatly states.

“Huh?  Since when?”

“Are you really going to need an answer to that question?” Derek asks in reply.

“But… wasn’t he…”

“He had information we needed to defeat the kanima,” Stiles notices Jackson flinch at Derek’s words, “He should consider himself lucky that I let him keep his stolen life.”

“I…” Stiles stammers, unsure how to respond.

“So what is it you want Stiles?” the alpha asks, stopping Stiles stuttering.

“I need some help working out what’s wrong with Scott.”  Stiles feels the sudden stillness in the room at his mention of Scott’s name.

“So why come to me, Scott made it clear he doesn’t want to be part of my pack,” Derek all but snarls, “That means he isn’t my responsibility.”  Derek realises he should have known that his mate being here wasn’t about them, it was about Scott.

“Please,” Stiles begs, “I need your help…”

 Derek cuts him off.  “Why not ask Deaton?”

“No one can get a straight answer out Deaton, you know that.  And I just… I knew that I could trust you to tell me what I need to know,” Stiles eyes are staring directly into Derek’s own, his words running around Derek’s head; ‘I know I can trust you’. 

“We’ll talk after breakfast,” Derek finds himself saying.  His wolf wagging its metaphorical tail at the teen trusting him and being able to provide for the teen; and the rest of his pack.

 

They sit down to breakfast, Derek taking his own and then piling a plate with pancakes, eggs, sausage, and bacon for Stiles.  He sees the look his betas give him as he passes the plate to Stiles, and stares them down with a silent warning about mentioning it; and is thankful that Stiles didn’t notice, being too engrossed in the food.

Stiles notices Jackson’s seeming lack of involvement with the discussions going around the table with the rest of Derek’s pack, and his generally less than meticulous appearance.

“What’s up Jackson?  You look like you haven’t slept all night,” Stiles quips.

“What’s it to you Stilinski?!” Jackson snarls back at him, earning a warning growl from Derek.

Jackson storms from the table, leaving his breakfast pretty much untouched.  The meal then continues in silence.

 


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Leaving Erica and Boyd to wash up after breakfast Isaac heads to his room, and Derek and Stiles head to the living room.

 

Jackson is on the couch, his head in his hands and his phone lying on the table in front of him.  Stiles sees an open text from Mr Whittemore mentioning Eichen House.

“Why are your parents trying to send you to Eichen House?  I wouldn’t wish that place on my worst enemy,” Stiles blurts out.  Jackson grabs his phone, clears the message from the screen and locks his phone; all while glaring at Stiles.

“Maybe it’s because they don’t know how to handle their precious heir going bat shit crazy.  That they can’t think of anything else to do when he wakes up screaming in the night about being a monster, of killing, and his hands being covered in the blood of his victims,” Jackson screams at him, his eyes damp with tears that Stiles can tell he’s fighting not to let fall.  It leaves him feeling ashamed of prying in to something Jackson is clearly, obviously, struggling with.

“I’m sorry, man,” Stiles looks away, turns his head and looks to the floor.  Looking back up at Jackson he says, “After what… happened, you’re bound to have issues coming to terms with it; anyone would.  Maybe talking with someone will help, but Eichen House?  All the stories about that place…”

“And who would you suggest I talk to? Jackson says storming off.

 

“You can’t let him be sent to Eichen House!” Stiles flails at Derek, “You need to find another psychologist he can talk to, someone to help him realise the whole blame of what happened, what he was made to do, lies with Matt and Gerard.”

“And who would you suggest?” Derek asks, his arms folded over his chest defensively, “He can’t exactly talk openly to just anyone, so until I talk to Deaton and ask…”

“If he knows someone who knows about the supernatural,” Stiles voice rising as his face lights up with an idea, “Ms Morrell, from school, she knows… and she knows Deaton, I overheard them talking one night when I went to the clinic looking for Scott.  She could help him.”

“Are you sure?” Derek asks.

“Well, you can talk to Deaton about it, right?”

“Yeah, I can,” Derek concedes, silently pleased at his mate caring about his beta, “But that’s not why you’re here.  What did you need to talk about?”

 

“Scott, I think something is wrong with him.  Like, at first, I just thought he was being broody over his breakup with Allison, but it’s more than that.  He doesn’t concentrate and is even more oblivious that usual, and he looks like he’s coming down with the flu or something…”

“He’s a werewolf, he can’t get sick, unless he’s been dosed with some strain for wolfs bane, but if you’d thought it was that you’d have gone to Deaton…” Derek deduces.

“So I was thinking if it’s something to do with him being an omega…”

“Being an omega just means he’s going to be weaker and less able to defend himself if attacked by hunters…”

“I read all these different theories on line, and a lot of them suggested that omega werewolves are like chew toys for a pack, and that they change to enjoy being the punch bags for pack wolves, and… you know… used by them…”

“Not true,” Derek growls, the red bleeding into his eyes, “Omegas are just werewolves that don’t have an alpha and a pack, they tend not to stay in a pack’s territory; most packs don’t allow them to.  And unless they were masochists they’re not gonna enjoy being used by a pack.”

“Oh…”

“Something you want to share about Scott?” Derek quizzes Stiles at the contemplative look that crosses his face.

“What?! No!”

 

“Nothing you’ve described about Scott fits anything I’ve heard of,” Derek steers the conversation back to Stiles original point at the obvious scent of embarrassment flowing from the teen, “If I had my family’s bestiary I might have been able to help more, but Peter took them with him.”

“So, I need to talk to Uncle Fester…”

“No!” Derek roars at the thought of Stiles anywhere near the man’s grasp, before controlling himself enough to continue more normally, “He’s under strict instructions that he can only remain in Beacon Hills if he makes no attempt to contact or interfere with the pack…”

“But I’m not…”

“Or, with you, Scott, or Lydia Martin.”

“Okay Sourwolf, thanks anyway,” Stiles says, and Derek can smell the frustration rolling off his mate at not having the answers he needs. “And if, by some miracle, Scott comes to you for answers, could you, like, try and be friendly to him; I know I don’t have any right to ask, after the way he treated you, but… he must be confused and scared about whatever’s going on with him, and it must be bad when he’s not even talking to me about it.  So, please, just be civil to him, and smile a little.”

“Fine,” Derek nods, “And if I think of anything else I’ll let you know,” the alpha tries to soothe the teen’s disappointment.

“Thanks,” Stiles calls back to him as he closes the door and heads back to his jeep.

 


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“So, I was thinking that I should find out what could maybe make a werewolf feel sick, there must other things than wolfs bane, right?”  Scott ask Deaton while they are cleaning out the animal cages.

“Are you feeling sick?” Deaton asks back.

“What, no, I was just… it’s just that I don’t have an alpha to go ask about werewolf physiology and being one I just thought that…” Scott stumbles over his reply

“I have noticed your lack of concentration today,” Deaton interrupts him, “You even put the notes on Charlie, Mrs Fields’ Blue Persian, in the folder for Maxwell, Ms Armstrong’s King Charles terrier.”

“Huh?”

“Exactly,” Deaton pointedly says, “So, Scott, what do you really want to know?”

“Umm… well, I’ve not be able to concentrate and I’ve been feeling hot; hotter than usual, and feverish, like I was running a temperature or something.  It kinda feels like it did when I was coming down with something, when I was human and could get sick…”

“It could be a number of things,” Deaton replies, “From a reaction to coming into contact with certain types of wolfs bane, a spell or curse, or it could be a new evolution of your power.  I’ll see if there is any way to narrow down the possibilities and in a few days I should know more; if nothing has changed by then we’ll run some tests to determine what is happening.”  Deaton is certain he knows what’s happening, sure that in Scott rejecting Derek as his alpha that he’s becoming an alpha in his own right; a true alpha.

 


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“What’s up bro?!” Stiles cackles at Scott over their CoD game, “I’ll killing you so easily, this is the best game I’ve had since you got your wolf on.”

“Stiles!” Scott whines back.

 

Stiles won game after game; he could tell Scott just wasn’t concentrating.

 

“I quit,” Scott finally said, “I’m too tired, and not gonna get my dignity back tonight.  Talk to you tomorrow.”

“Sure,” Stiles said, “Run away with your tail between your legs.”  They both log out of the game.

Stiles is more sure than ever that something is clearly wrong with his best friend.  He knows what he’s going to have to do to get any further in figuring out what, and he knows Derek isn’t going to like it.  Stiles needs to see the Hale bestiary; he needs to talk to Uncle Zombie Wolf.

 


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There’s a loud pounding on the loft door.  Derek heads from his bedroom to see Isaac opening the door.

 

“You smell different,” Isaac says, confusion in his voice.

“I need to talk with Derek,” Scott replies, stress and fear in his words, “Privately.”

Isaac turns and looks up to Derek waiting for his alpha to tell him if Scott’s allowed in their den.

“Isaac, go meet up with Erica, Boyd, and Jackson, and get some breakfast,” Derek says as he walks down the stairs, “You can all head out to the house after and I’ll meet up with you there after I’ve ‘talked’ with Scott.”

Isaac takes one more look at his alpha before he shrugs and then heads out the door; barely acknowledging Scott, the pack mate that abandoned him, abandoned their pack, and abandoned their friendship.

 

As Scott walks to into the apartment Derek has to remind himself that he promised Stiles to try and be courteous to Scott; the scent of the teen assaults his senses and forces him to breathe deeply, his eyes widen in shock and his eyebrows nearly disappearing into his hairline.  This can’t be.

“So… you changed last night I take it,” he asks, trying to school the concern and confusion of how this could have happened; his thoughts turning Stiles’ words into a mantra.  SmileBe friendly.  He can smell Scott’s confusion and fear, under the heavy scent of what he is, and what he needs. 

“You know what’s happening to me?”  Scott asks him, the fear over what’s happening in his voice, and the scent broadcasting the need for an alpha to take him.

“You don’t?” he asks as he leans back on his sofa, distancing himself from beta, “It must have started a week or so ago, and you must have felt… off, so you should have talked to Stiles,” Derek feels the want coil around him, the heady scent pulling at him, he has to pull himself together and fight it, Scott can’t know what his body is doing, he won’t have control over his pheromones, “Only, you didn’t go to Stiles about it, too embarrassed maybe?  That means you went to Deaton.  He should have been more than able to explain.”

“Deaton said it could be several things, a spell, a curse, the wolf evolving…”

“You have certainly evolved,” Derek chokes back the growl, fighting the need to dominate and claim the bitch , his alpha instincts being driven by the scent from Scott that surrounds him, “So, Deaton really didn’t tell you anything?”

“No,” Scott snaps at him, “Just tell me what’s happening to me,” the bitch demands.  Derek’s eyes narrow in anger and he can feel the bitch’s need to be claimed, to be taken by a pack; the desire to submit and be dominated.  And as much as he fights to maintain control he feels himself losing.

“Show me,” Derek commands.

“What?  You already know, why do…” Scott stammers out

“Show. Me.”  The scent of the male bitch in front of him clawing at the slim control Derek has.

 

Derek watches as Scott fumbles with the buttons on his shirt and jeans, defiantly pulling them from his body and discarding them on the floor.  He can see the anger in the young beta, but also he can smell the want in him.

“Sit,” he orders, his head inclining to the other end of the couch once Scott is naked.  He smells the teens fear, and his excitement.  He falls to his knees between the teen’s legs, pulling them up and spreading them as he leans in and inhales the scent of the bitch’s desire.  He looks up at Scott’s face and sees he has turned away, his eyes closed.

“Look at me,” he needs Scott to understand what this means, what he now is.

“You’re going to need this,” he tells the teen as his fingers graze over the folds of the boy’s labia.

“What?” Scott asks, his breath quickening.

“See how aroused you are?” Derek urges him to understand, “See that clit emerging from your pussy?  How it’s twice the size of an average clit?  That’s what’s become of your cock.”

Derek’s fingers slide over the wetness and Scott’s head lolls backwards as he moans his need.  Derek loses himself to the scent and needs of the bitch, leaning over him and tasting his skin, nipping at his pecs and nipples as he fingers the bitch’s inner walls, rubbing over the clitoris as Scott cants his hips up seeking more from the alpha.

“Ah, ah, ah, ah, ah, Derek!” Scott screams as Derek’s fingers never stop rubbing and his teeth bite around the boy’s nipple.

“Alpha!” the beta cries as his body goes rigid.  Derek releases a satisfied growl at the sight of the long stretch of Scott’s exposed neck; and it’s all he can do to hold back from claiming the bitch as it so desperately wants.  But he knows that Scott doesn’t fully understand, and he needs to.

 

“As much as you loved my fingers teasing you, I know what a bitch like you really wants,” Derek growls at his ear, “But don’t worry, I know how to give you what you need.”

“What do I need?” Scott asks, his voice husky.

“You need your alpha’s knot,” Derek says, “You’ll need contact with all of the wolves in the pack before you go into heat; the more intimate the contact the less you’ll be affected by your heat, and the more focused you’ll be afterwards.”

“Intimate… heat?!  What?!”  Scott yells as he jerks out of the alpha’s touch, trying to get off the couch, “What do you mean I’m going to need…?” Derek can tell that Scott doesn’t understand what he means, “And go into heat?  What?  Like a dog?”

He growls at the dog comparison and Scott can’t help but bare his throat to him.  The beta needing to appease the alpha.

“We’re not dogs, we’re wolves,” Derek growls, before continuing, “And you are one of the rarest werewolves.”

 

“What am I?” Scott asks; Derek can smell the disquiet at the answer he might give.

 

“You’re a male bitch.”

 

 

Chapter Text

 

 

What?  I’m not your bitch!” Scott wails below Derek as he towers over the beta, fighting to regain control of his instincts as the scents from between Scott’s spread legs assault him as he lays sprawled on the couch.  The beta tries to back away from him, but one flash of red bleeding into his eyes has Scott baring his neck and whining in submission.

"I said you were a male bitch, but you hear what you want Scotty," he replies through gritted teeth as he stares down at him; the taste of Scott’s want and need catching in the back of Derek’s throat, “Guess you want this more than I thought.”

“No, and I’m not a bitch,” Scott pouts, “There has to be some way to undo this, to get me back to normal.”

“No,” Derek snarls, his anger at Scott’s constant battle with werewolf nature and instincts rising, “There isn’t; this is who you are, and it’s not as if you aren’t enjoying being…”

I’m not!” the beta cuts him off before he finishes what he was saying.

“Really?” he asks holding his still wet fingers in front of the boy’s face, “That’s why you came so hard from my fingers in your pussy?”

“It’s not me,” he wails, “It’s the wolf; not me.”

I’ve told you before, the wolf is not separate from you!” Derek snaps at his words, he knows he needs to clear his head from the affect Scott’s pheromones are having on him; they need to get out of the apartment, to someone Scott will listen to… Deaton.  Derek fixes the idea in his head; someone he’s sure the boy will trust, “I’m taking you to Deaton; he can explain like he should have, instead of just telling you you’re ‘evolving’.  See if you believe him.”

 


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Derek drives with the windows of the Camaro down, the air blowing through the car and keeping his head clear as they speed to the vet’s clinic.  He picks up on the anxiety levels of the beta rising, and has to consciously stop himself from reaching out to comfort him.  He’s already lost control to his instincts and reminds himself that Scott needs to know what’s happened and why he needs the protection and safety of a pack and an alpha.  And he hopes that Deaton has an explanation of how this could have happened now; Derek didn’t think that was possible.

 

When they arrive at the clinic Deaton is locking up; they get out of the car and without thinking Derek grabs Scott’s arm and walks them towards the vet.

“Derek, Scott,” he says, looking down at the tight grip Derek has of Scott’s arm he asks, “Is everything alright?”

“Scott was unaware exactly on the possibilities that ‘your wolf evolving’ could mean,” Derek all but snarls at Deaton, “While I’ve tried to explain to him what being a male bitch in the pack means, and that there is no way to reverse his change, I think he needs to hear it from you.”

 

Derek realises he was holding onto Scott when they enter the clinic, he hangs back by the door trying to calm his wolf, his instinct to dominate the bitch the way he knows Scott wants; to show him he can be the alpha he needs and take care of him.

“Doc?”  At the waiver in Scott’s voice Derek is beside him, cradling the back of his neck to comfort the beta; giving in to his instinct again.

“Scott,” Deaton pauses, trying to understand the situation, wondering if things changed and Scott didn’t let him know, “you were supposed to tell me if the symptoms changed, if they were getting worse.”

“They didn’t change!” the beta snaps at him, “It was the same symptoms, and the same hotness and lack of concentration.  It was only during the night that… something… happened.  There’s a way to undo it; right?”

“I should examine you, make sure that…”

Answer his question!” Derek snarls at Deaton, his eyes blazing alpha red, as he steps behind the beta.  He needs the man to stop beating around the bush and be honest with the boy.

“No, there isn’t any way reverse the change,” Deaton softly says.  Scott falls back against Derek’s chest; his arms wrap around his… no he needs to remind himself, Scott is not his beta, not yet.

“I wasn’t expecting this to be the evolution that was occurring in your body,” Deaton continues, “Male bitches, the recorded instances, usually manifest with their first change.”

“That’s what I had always believed,” Derek replies, “But that doesn’t explain how Scott has changed now; on the new moon…”

 

"No, no, no!" Scott’s panicked voice stops their argument in its tracks, “This isn’t supposed to be happening.  This isn’t how things are supposed to be.  Allison is coming back from France, and we’re supposed to get back together.  She and I are meant to be.

Scott struggles in Derek’s grasp, the alpha growling as he nips at the back of his neck, causing Scott to still as he calms the beta down; only for Deaton to resort to sedating the boy.

“Was that necessary?!” Derek snarls at the vet.

“I wouldn’t have taken such extreme action if it wasn’t,” Deaton replies, “He’s clearly, and understandably, in shock; and in the emotional state he was in could have been a danger to himself.  He’ll need the firm hand of an alpha to help guide and protect him; if he truly has become a male bitch.”

“He has,” Derek authoritatively states, “I can smell the change on him.”

“It would be better for me to do a full examination of him and determine the extent of the changes,” Deaton advises.

 


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Derek can’t hold back the low rumbling growl that he emits while Deaton removes Scott’s pants and boxers as he’s lying on the examination table.  He also can’t help but feel good when Scott looks to him for confirmation before allowing Deaton to examine him, or stop himself from trying to comfort and support him when he feels the beta’s nervousness increase as Deaton starts to examine his vagina.

He knows it’s partly down to Stiles; not because he knows Stiles would be influenced by him looking out for his friend, but because Scott is important to Stiles and therefore he’s important to Derek.  It’s also because his wolf wants to claim this bitch, he wants to be the alpha that he looks to for comfort and protection.

 

“So?” Derek asks once Deaton has cleaned up the instruments.

“Scott has a fully working uterus, ovaries, and both a female and a male prostate gland…”

“Women don’t have prostates,” Derek states.

“Scott is not a women, he’s intersex; or as most werewolves would colloquially refer to him a male bitch.  Also, the Skene's gland was renamed the female prostate in 2002.  The point is, having fully functioning female anatomy along with the remaining male anatomy, he will experience a menstrual cycle, and can get pregnant.”

What?!” Scott roars in shock.

“I don’t know why this change has happened now, but as far as I know there is no way to reverse this kind of change once a bitten wolf has manifested as an intersex beta,” Deaton explains to the boy.

“I don’t know much about them,” Derek says looking at Deaton, “There weren’t any in the Hale pack when my mom was alpha, but I remember her being angry and upset one time, it was a couple of years before… the fire, and when I asked her why she was upset all she said was ‘sometimes a pack consort needs to be protected, it isn’t easy, but they need to be protected and taken care of even from themselves’.  It was later I found out about pack consort being what most other packs called a male bitch; an intersex beta.”

“Yes,” Deaton says with some disgust and anger in his voice, “Most packs abuse an intersex beta if they have one in their pack, especially if they’re a more gynandroid in appearance, like Scott is; while physically to look at his appearance is male, his sexual organs are mostly entirely female.”  Deaton turns to Scott before continuing, “You will need a pack, they will have to help you through your heats.  Once you learn to control your abilities you will have a special place in the pack as their mediator in intrapack disputes; due to your… closeness with pack members.  And some intersex betas have been known to have a role as consort to the alpha and their mate.”

Neither Deaton nor Derek are sure how much of what he was just told Scott has taken in.  They know he’s in shock at the changes he’s undergone; they are too, this shouldn’t have happened now, everything they know says this only happens during a bitten werewolf’s first shift.

 

“I think you should take him home,” Deaton says to Derek, and in a quieter tone, “And try to be the alpha he needs, most intersex betas tend to be more submissive in nature and need a strong dominant alpha.  If you can be that for him then his instinct should draw him towards accepting both you as his alpha, and the pack for the intimacy he will need.”

 


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Stiles had let himself into the McCall house with the key he had made.  Scott wasn’t answering his phone and he was worried; with all the changes he’s noticed in his best friend lately he wanted to make sure that nothing has happened to him.  He knew Mrs McCall was working so if Scott was home he would be alone; only when he arrived there was no answer, and opening the door he found the house was empty.  With no-one home he decided to wait in Scott’s bedroom.  It wasn’t as if he could track him down by scent like a hunting dog; that would be Scott’s domain.  He laughed at his own joke, wishing Scott was here to share it with him.

 

“Oh Scotty-boy, you shedding your coat like a dog?” Stiles wonders out loud when he notices the excessive hair on the bed, smirking at another of his own jokes again, before he wonders if this is related to Scott’s behaviour of late.

He’s just finished using the hand-held vacuum to clean up the hairs from Scott’s bed when he wonders if Scott has gone to Deaton’s because of the hair loss when he hears the sound of Derek’s Camaro outside.  He creeps out onto the landing and stealthily heads to the top of the stairs before stopping in his tracks at what he sees and hears.

 

Derek is sitting on the couch with Scott over his lap; Scott’s pants and boxers down around his ankles.

“As your alpha you need to trust me,” Derek’s words rumble out of him as he spanks Scott’s upturned naked ass.

“Deaton told you exactly what I did,” SMACK, “But you didn’t believe me,” SMACK, “You needed to hear it from him before it could be true,” SMACK.

“No, don’t,” Scott half-heartedly calls out, and Stiles can see he’s not exactly fighting back as Derek’s hand rains down SMACK, after SMACK, on Scott’s ass.

“As alpha I need to take care of you and the rest of the pack,” SMACK, “You need to let me take care of you,” SMACK, “and trust that I know what you need.”

 

Stiles sneaks back up into Scott’s room before he sees or hears anymore, not sure what he’s just witnessed, but half-wondering if this is related to Scott’s ‘it’s not mine I don’t know how it got there’ porn collection that he helped him erase a few weeks back.  Not that he isn’t fully aware that Scott had a backup of some of those files; he just didn’t call him on it as he wanted to give his best friend time to work out if he was really into it and wait for him to be ready to talk to him about it.  But he would have expected Scott to have put up more of a fight rather than letting Derek spank so hard; and really, how does Derek think this fits with what he asked him to do?

 

He hears Derek leave and Scott climb the stairs.  He hasn’t switched the light on in the room so it’s in darkness as Scott walks in and goes towards the bedside lamp; when it turns on Stiles is shocked at Scott’s naked form, his eyes drawn to Scott’s crotch and what is missing.

“Dude!  What.  The.  Fuck!” he exclaims.  Scott tries to cover himself with his hands and dive to the floor to hide behind the bed.  “Is this what’s been going on with you for the past few weeks?”

“What?”

“Scotty, you don’t think I haven’t noticed that my best friend has been acting a little off, been distracted, and crap at games he usually wins?  Now I initially put it down to the whole break up with Allison…”

“We’re on a break…”

“Scott.  Really?!  Now what’s going on,” because seriously how has he lost his junk, “And why was Derek spanking you in the living room?”

“What?!”

 

Stiles sees the point at which Scott realises he’s not gonna let this go.  He tells him about how he started feeling out of sorts after the showdown with Gerard and rejecting Derek as his alpha; that he thought it was because he was an omega.  The when he thought he was getting the flu or something he talked to Deaton who told him it could be his wolf evolving.  Only he woke up like this. 

“I thought Derek might be able to help,” Scott whines the tears forming in his eyes, “But he and Deaton both said there’s no way to undo it.  And that I’ll go into heat and get can pregnant… Stiles, I don’t want to get pregnant.”

“Bro, it won’t come to that,” he says hugging his still naked best friend, but keeping their lower parts… apart, “Hey, why don’t I stay over, you can tell me more about what Derek and Deaton told you, you grab a shower while I text my dad and let him know where I am.  Sound good?”  Scott nods his head, smiles weakly at him and heads for his bathroom.

 

Stiles quickly texts his dad to say he’s staying over at Scott’s; then he texts Derek.

[Stiles>Sourwolf: Dude, what’s happened to Scott?]

[Stiles>Sourwolf: and why were you spanking him?]

[Stiles>Sourwolf: did you know I was on the stairs?]

[Sourwolf>Stiles: Don’t call me dude, and ask Scott it’s for him to explain.]

[Sourwolf>Stiles: Because he needed it.]

[Sourwolf>Stiles: Yes.]

 

Scott comes back out of the bathroom, a towel around his waist, while he uses another to dry the hair on his head; the only hair still on his body, apart from his eyebrows and eyelashes.

“Oh, and Deaton said I was some sort of special android, but I didn’t really get what he was talking about…” he says as he pulls on some boxers.

Deaton said you’re some sort of wolf-y sex-bot?!” Stiles exclaims, his mouth hanging open in shock.

 


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Derek knows that even though he just told Stiles it’s not for him to say what’s happened to Scott, he’s going to have to explain to the beta he intends to have meet with Scott tomorrow.  He’ll need to explain to Jackson about male bitches… intersex betas, and how Scott has somehow manifested as one.  Find some way to make him understand how much Scott will need their help adjusting and coping with needing to be intimate with the pack.

 

He gets out of the Camaro and walks up the driveway to the Whittemore house.  He can see that most of the house is in darkness, and only Jackson’s Porsche is in the driveway; he leaps up to Jackson’s window and climbs in.

 

“Jesus, fuck, Derek!” a startled Jackson cries from his bed, “What the fuck are you doing here?  Do you know what time it is?”

“I need to talk to you about something,” Derek says, ignoring his beta’s questions and sitting on the edge of Jackson’s bed.

“If it’s about my sessions with Morrell they’re going okay, I’ve notI haven’t skipped any and… I think they’re helping, .  My parents seem to think so at least, they’re keeping my parents of my back aboutthey called off sending me to Eichen House, I mean there’s only been a couple so far.”

“That’s good; that they’re helping,” Derek says, “I’m glad Stiles’s idea is working out, and keeping you out of Eichen, but there’s something else I need to talk to you about.”

“What?” Jackson asks warily. 

 

Derek tells Jackson about male bitches – intersex betas – and how they are only ever bitten wolves, and that they manifest as intersex on their first transformation.  Jackson is getting increasingly worried as Derek talks, but Derek is so focused on trying to explain that he doesn’t pick up on it.

 

You think I’m gonna be some kinda werewolf male bitch?!” Jackson hollers, panic in his voice.  After everything he’s been through, this would be too much to deal with.

“What? No!” Derek turns to him confused, “Scott’s the male bitch.”

McCall?!” Jackson exclaims in shock and relief, “But… I’ve seen him in the shower, he’s not got anything missing.”

“He’s only just changed, and he’s finding it difficult to deal with,” Derek explains, concern and exasperation showing in equal measure, “He’s always fought his instincts as a wolf since he was bitten, and I don’t think he realises just how much he will need a pack.  I tried talking to him tonight, but… I don't think I handled it quite as well I could have.  Either way, He’s he’s going to need to be close to us, need physical contact and intimacy, or his heats will be excruciating; and then he’ll need help to get through his heats on top of that.”

“Why asks me?  McCall and I have never exactly got along.”

“Because you’re my second, or you will be once you get control of your wolf,” Derek looks him in the eye as he replies.

“Me? I thought Boyd was…”

“No, Boyd is loyal and a good man, but he’s not my secondyou.  Now, about Scott, are you up to helping me with him?  We need to show him that the pack can support and help him.”

“Yeah,” Jackson smiles a feeling of pride running through him that his alpha believes so strongly in him.

 

Chapter Text

 

 

“What?!  No?!” Scott yelps at Stiles’s question, “Who said anything about a sex-bot?”

“You did Scotty,” Stiles replies, not keeping the quizzical look from his face, “You said you had to be intimate with the pack, and that Deaton said you were an android.  Though really, I hate to break it to you, but this isn’t Weird Science, and you’re not anything like Kelly Le Brock.”  It’s clear to Stiles that Scott didn’t take in everything Deaton, or Derek, said.  Not surprising really, his best friend has to be freaked out about this, and it’s clear to him what he needs to do, “Obviously I’m going to need to do some research and figure out what Deaton really said to you; you can’t have been paying attention.”

 

Stiles turns over in his mind what Scott has told him; male bitch, always a bitten wolf, always on their first shift, no way to reverse.  Only, this wasn’t Scott’s first shift, and it was on a new moon, so… what if it isn’t a natural evolution of his wolf, what other differences can there be, and what if there is a way to change it.  He doesn’t want to get Scott’s hopes up about that though.  But, he needs information, he needs to know what the differences are, and his mind wanders to what differences there could be between what Scott has between his legs and what a female vagina looks like, and…

 

“Sooooo… the best place for me to start researching would be to get a closer look at your… at the changes that have happened,” Stiles states as he gestures at the lower parts of Scott’s body.

“What?!” Scott exclaims in shock, “No! It’s not a tourist attraction Stiles!  Why would you need to see… what’s changed?  You’ve watched enough porn on-line to know what… it looks like.”

“Scotty, Derek and Deaton have already seen what you got, or not got, down there…”

“Dude!” Scott flushes with embarrassment, and slight arousal, at Stiles’s words.  He doesn’t want to acknowledge the slight tingling sensation between his legs.

“You know it makes sense, it will help with my research,” Stiles pleads, “You want me to have as much detail as possible to help me find out why and how, and if it can be reversed; right?  And it’s not like when we were in eighth grade and practiced kissing and…”

Bro code.  We swore we’d never mention that!”

But Stiles sees the words ‘if it can be reversed’ have already made up Scott’s mind; now he has to try and live up to the hope he’s built up in Scott.  If there is a way to reverse this Stiles is determined, he will find it.

 

While brushing his teeth in Scott’s bathroom Stiles has to ‘take himself in hand’.  And god, but he feels like a creep for getting so aroused over looking at his best friend’s pussy; but how couldn’t he.  Between the sight of the hairless flesh, and the scent, the sweet scent coming from Scott’s… and how was the scent affecting him like that?  He wasn’t a wolf… was it because of how much time he’s spending around werewolves?  And it’s not like he’s got that close to a real live one before.  And he couldn’t see any difference between what Scott now has between his legs and what the extensive research library of images he has on his laptop show him female porn stars have…

But, having taken care of his immediate need, some doubt about being able to reverse Scott’s condition start to creep into his mind.  He hadn’t wanted to give Scott false hope, and he doesn’t want let him down.  He needs more information; more than Scott has and more than Derek has given him.  Stiles knows he’s gonna have to go talk with Zombie-wolf, and that fills him with dread.

 

While lying in bed with Scott he tries to temper Scott’s expectations, just in case he can’t find cure.

STILES!” Scott screeches at him when he mentions talking to his mom, and his potential need for feminine hygiene products at certain times of the month.

“I know,” he apologetically says, pulling me into an embrace, “And I’m going to do everything I can to find a way to undo this, you know I am, but if I can’t…”

While Scott spoons him from behind, Stiles worries at the fingernail of his thumb; hoping he doesn’t fail his friend.

 


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Melissa McCall had thought that in the years of raising Scott as s single working mother she knew how to deal with what life threw at her.  She knew that they were better off without her ex-husband around; that she still knew for certain.  But the last few weeks… 

 

How was she supposed to know how to deal with the supernatural being real? 

And how was she supposed to deal with her son being a teenage werewolf?

How was she supposed to prepare him for a life of being hunted and attacked by psychopaths like Gerard fucking Argent?!

How was she supposed to protect him?

 

She knows she didn’t react in the best way possible when she found out about it; about Scott being a werewolf.  But she was in shock, and she was afraid.  Not for herself, but for him.  Okay, maybe a little for herself, but she loves her son and wants the best for him.

 

And in the weeks since the events at the station, with the Daehler kid, and the events with Jackson Whittemore… well, she thinks… had thought that she was dealing well, and that Scott would start to talk to her more about this side of his life.  Maybe prepare her for whatever next big shock was coming.

 

But she knows he lied to her.  She’s his mother and she knows his tells; the little ticks and looks that give him away.  Whatever is going on may not be like the situation with Matt, Jackson, and Gerard Argent, but whatever it is has him worried.

 

She doesn’t want to try and force him to talk to her, she wants him to want to talk to her.  She wants to help her son and protect him; is that so wrong?

 

All she can do is wait, and hope that he will confide in her soon.

 


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Derek is just out of the shower when Scott arrives at the loft door.  He pulls on a pair of jeans and rushes down to answer.

“You’re early,” he says as he opens the door.

“Stiles dropped me off,” Scott mentioning his mate’s name has Derek searching behind the beta for him, he can smell his scent, but there’s no sign of the boy, “He’s headed home after staying the night at mine,” the beta continues before asking, “Did you know Stiles was in my room last night when we were in the living room?”

“You didn’t smell him or hear his heartbeat?” Derek replies, without adding that he was actually on the stairs for some of Scott’s punishment.  Well, intended punishment; given he enjoyed it more than Derek intended.

“You striped me, and spanked me knowing that Stiles could hear everything?!” Scott angrily wails. 

“I’m sure all he heard was my hand hitting your ass, and you moaning like you were in heat,” Derek replies as he closes the door, wondering if maybe it left Stiles with the wrong impression of what he was doing with Scott; he was trying to follow Deaton’s suggestion, of being the dominant alpha that a typically submissive intersex beta needs, and his own instincts.  He had thought of acknowledging that Stiles was there;, but Scott was responding well to the dominance, he submitted more readily than he expected, and he didn’t want to make him skittish if didn’t know that his best friend had a front row seat to his spanking.  Though the boy’s arousal at being spanked surprised him.  He still doubts he is handling the situation as it needs to be; this is why Laura was alpha and not him, at least until Peter…  He’s brought from his thoughts as he realises how strongly Scott smells of Stiles’s scent.

 

“You smell like Stiles,” Derek states as he stalks towards the beta.

“He slept over last night, after… I explained what happened to me,” Scott splutters as Derek crowds into my space.  He keeps backing up as Derek moves closer.

“Did you and Stiles…”

What? No; he saw my… but we just slept.”  Scott falls back onto the sofa when his calves hit the edge.

 

Derek kneels between his legs, sliding his hands up Scott’s thighs; Scott’s arousal thick in the air between them.  He can smell, feel, the male bitch’s need to be touched.

“Stiles is going to look for way to undo… whatever happened to me.”

Scott’s words still Derek’s hands at the waistband of his pants where he just opened the button, his fingers now gripping the zip; Derek’s head snaps up to look at Scott’s face, his eyebrows raised in surprise.

“Deaton already told you there isn’t one?  You don’t believe him now either?”  He tries to hold back the worry; Scott doesn’t realise the danger he’s putting himself in if he fights what he’s become.

 

“What? No, I just… Just because no-one knows about a cure doesn’t mean that Stiles can’t look for one for me!” Scott responds heatedly.

“No, but while he’s looking, what are you doing?”

“Huh?”

“You need a pack,” Derek says laying his forehead against Scott’s, “You need to be close to your pack and intimate with them,” the fear rising over what would happen if Scott doesn’t, “Otherwise come the full moon…” the concern over his mate’s friend raising his voice until he shouts, “You’ll be in so much pain you’ll let stray dogs in the street fuck you just to take the pain away.”

“Well, that’s not gonna happen!” Scott replies.

“Good,” Derek says, calmer than before, “’cause the full moon is less than two weeks away, and we’re running out of time.”  He slides his cheek against Scott’s, the heat of their chests pressed together, and Derek realises that perhaps some of the fear and concern is that Scott won’t agree to be his pack’s male bitch; be his and Stiles’s consort.

 

He pulls Scott’s shirt over his head; his lips locking around one small nipple while his fingers toy with the other.  Scott doesn’t fight him, he leans into the touch, his body responding naturally to the desires he has.

“Please,” the beta begs him and the alpha grinds his hardness against Scott’s naked thigh as his fingers, wet with the juices from the beta’s pussy tease at his other hole, and slowly push inside.

“Derek, please, fuck,” Scott pleads, bucking against Derek’s hand as he searches for release.

“No, fucking,” he mouths against Scott’s neck where he’s nipping a trail along his collarbone, “We don’t want to get you pregnant.”

 

“Please, Derek, Alpha, I need…” Scott yelps as Derek has him coming in a mass of pleasurable nipping teeth, licking tongue and teasing fingers before coating the beta’s body in ropes of his own white release.

 


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“Are you lost little one?” Peter is a little bit more than surprised to open his front door and find Stiles standing there; though he hides it well.

“Gee, and I was so expecting ‘Will you walk into my parlour?’,” Stiles retorts, “I would have thought you would think it was so more much appropriate.”

“Feeling like you’re the fly, Stiles?” he smiles, “Doesn’t that make me the spider?  The one that eats you?”  He sees the shiver Stiles tries to hide, “Just how do you want me to eat you Stiles?”

“Eew, stop being so… you, creepy zombie-wolf,” Stiles deliberately shudders in mock, and real, horror at the connotations, “And last time you only offered to give me the bite, on my wrist.  I’m here for one reason only.  I need to see the Hale family bestiary.”

“Last time you hadn’t set me alight with a Molotov cocktail; and why should I allow you to see my bestiary?”

“One, it’s the Hale family bestiary, and two, I need to find some info on what might be affecting one of the betas.”

“Why should I help you save one of Derek’s betas?” Peter snarls, “He made it clear I’m not pack.”

“Oh, I don’t know, maybe because you don’t want to be a blue-eyed omega werewolf running away from hunters.  Because you know the only thing you have that could be of use to Derek and the pack is the knowledge you’re hoarding, and because if I show him how useful that information is you might be able to find a way back into Derek’s good graces long enough to be considered pack,” Stiles smugly smiles at him.

Peter can’t deny the little shit has a point, and maybe, just maybe if he pays close enough attention he can find out something that would be of use to himself.  It would be easier to take back the alpha power from within the pack after all.

 

Peter pays very close attention to the sections of the bestiary that Stiles looks at on the laptop.  Oh, he tries to hide it well, flitting from page to page, topic to topic.  But he doesn’t hide it well enough.

What Peter doesn’t get is what info on a male bitch would Stiles need to find for one of Derek’s beta’s.  It’s past any of their first full moons; if any of them were…

 

But, then again… If they were a full hermaphrodite, with their cock and balls still in place, and their ripe cunt hidden between their scrotum and their asshole, maybe until their first heat they might have not realised?  Then again, Jackson is only newly a wolf.  Though, if he’d been a betting man Peter would have expected the male bitch to be Isaac.

 

Though he can only lament that his attempt to make Scott a male bitch failed.  He can only put the failure down to being half out of his mind when he bit him.  Sinking his claws into his neck and pulling the hidden fantasies from the depths of the boy’s mind; filling his mind of his belly being filled with his alpha’s pups.  But there’s no point dwelling on what might have been; Scott didn’t become his male bitch.

 

No, this new development needs closer scrutiny; he needs to keep a close eye on his nephew’s little pack and see what can be learned.

 


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Jackson lay awake most of the previous night.

 

He’d been terrified when Derek had started talking about male bitches and what they could mean for a pack.  Scared that he was talking about him; saying that he was gonna become one.  The thought of having to go through that every month, the need to held down and fucked for hours on end; being nothing but a slave to the need to…

 

No, he’d had enough of being controlled, and the thought of losing control to some primal instinct like that just… it left him in a cold sweat.

 

But then Derek tells him the male bitch is McCall.  And fuck, but that made him happy for reasons he didn’t understand.

 

Sure he and McCall had butted heads time and again.  The dweeb getting under his skin.  But McCall was important to Stiles, and Stiles was important to Derek for some reason.  And Stiles had come up with the idea for Derek to get him to talk to Morrell, so, he guessed he owed him something.

 

And really, when he remembered back to when he was the Kanima, McCall was the only one that fought to keep him alive.  So, maybe he owed Scott… McCall something too.

 

As he walks up to Derek’s loft he catches a hint of the scent.  The sweetest thing he’s ever smelled.  The closer he gets to the door the stronger it is and he can feel the rumbling purr vibrating in his chest at the scent surrounds him.

 

As he walks into the apartment he can see a very naked McCall coated in his alpha’s come, his pussy wet between his legs and the scent is so overpowering.

“I hope you didn’t ask me here just to watch you two make out after sex,” Jackson’s voice sounds strange to himself as; thick with arousal.  He has to shake his head to clear his thoughts before he does something he regrets.

He doesn’t get why seeing Derek leaning over Scott has him feeling so aggressive towards his alpha.

 

Chapter Text

 

 

Jackson grips the steering wheel tightly as he fights to keep his wolf under control.  He’d been getting good at controlling his instincts, but the image of Scott spread out under Derek and painted in his alpha’s come was making him jealous; and that sweet smell coming from Scott, under the combined scent of sex and Derek and Scott’s come, was making keeping his wolf under control that much harder.  He needs to be rational, keep control and not give in to the desire to pull over and wipe Scott clean of Derek’s come and cover him in his own.  He’ll need to talk to Derek about this tomorrow; to try and understand why he’s feeling like this.  Right now he needs to make Scott feel more comfortable, Derek wants him in the pack, and it’s Jackson’s job to show him how good being in the pack will be for him.  He needs to provide for him; he needs new underwear, and they can get some food.  His wolf likes this idea.

 

“So,” he starts to say to Scott, but the inhale of Scott’s scent has his eyes shifting and he grips the steering wheel tighter as he gets control of himself, “How does some shopping sound?  We can get lunch at the food court after.”

“Fine,” Scott huffs out in answer.  Jackson can feel the turmoil rolling off of him in waves; the fear, the worry and distrust.  Derek had warned him about Scott fighting his natural instincts; that he saw the wolf as something separate to himself, and Jackson gets that.  At first he did too, until he finally looked at himself and the wolf and saw the truth.  The wolf is him; he is the wolf.  Derek also told him that while Scott will fight against his own desires and instincts that if he’s firm with him his instincts will take over.  And Jackson doesn’t have a problem with being a little forceful if that’s what Scott wants and needs.

“Okay, then we need to head over to your place to pack you a bag and…”

“What do I need to pack a bag for?”

“So you have a change of clothes for tomorrow morning; you’re sleeping over at my place,” Jackson replies with a smirk.

“Who said I was sleeping over at your place?”

“Me,” he bluntly states, before Scott replies he continues, “Derek said that pack bonding time was important, and you were nervous about telling the whole pack at once.  Apparently our alpha doesn’t interact with real people enough to realise that we need time to adjust to things like this before sharing it with everyone on earth…”

We don’t need time Jackson, I do,” Scott angrily retorts, and Jackson picks up on the fear behind it, “What do you know about…” Scott’s words die in his throat.

“… it will be a good way for us to get to know each other better,” he continues ignoring Scott’s words.  Jackson only too well knows the feeling of not being in control, but he knows that at least for Scott it’s his own desires he has no control over, “I don’t think you want me to fuck you into your mattress in your bedroom with your mom across the hall hearing you moan and screaming out my name when you come so hard?”

What?!  No!” Scott shouts at him.

“Which is why you’re spending the night at my place,” Jackson replies, his hand resting on Scott’s knee before gliding up the inside of his thigh.  He feels Scott quiver at his touch, wanting it and scared of it at the same time; Scott’s wolf basking in the attention of its pack mate, while Jackson’s wolf purrs with want.

“I… stop… please…” Scott gasps.

“Whenever you ask me to,” he says removing his hand; he remembers what it’s like to feel powerless all too well.  If Scott is going to come to terms with what he is, it has to be on his own terms, “But, I’m pretty sure you wanting me to stop isn’t why your pants are getting so wet,” he smirks, “We should do something about that, but let’s get the shopping I want to do out the way and get some lunch,” he adds pulling into the mall parking garage.

 


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“So,” Stiles says striding into the loft and placing the laptop he’s carrying down on the coffee table.  He pulls out a thumb drive and plugs it into one of the USB ports, “I swiped this from Uncle Fester…”

You…!  I told you to stay away from Peter!” Derek snarls, the fear of what could happen to Stiles when he puts himself in danger, of him being anywhere near his psychotic uncle, overriding his ability to stay calm, “I don’t want any of my pack, and especially not my mate, being anywhere near him!

“Mate?” Stiles asks, the look on his face mirroring the shock on Derek’s over what he has inadvertently admitted.

“I…” Derek swallows as he tries to remember how to string words together into a coherent sentence as Stiles expression changes from surprised confusion to dawning realisation.

“I’m your mate… like forever life-partner mate… not like British we’re friends type mate… you love me!” Stiles says, almost to himself, as he replays their interactions in his head, “Oh my god!  All those times you were shoving my up against walls… you were scenting me!  That’s why you kept putting your hand on the back of my neck and scraping your thumb over the spot just below my ear, or leaning in running your cheek over my jawline, and I thought you were just getting close enough to growl in my ear to try and scare me; not that it worked, well not in scaring me…”

“Stiles…” Derek starts to try and deny, but Stiles has leapt on the fact that he himself has realised he has crush on the hot alpha werewolf; that he has for the last year.

Derek, do you realise how much sex we’ve missed out on?!” Stiles interrupts.  Derek’s eyes widen in shock at the statement-cum-question as his wolf whines in agreement with his mate.  Derek barely has the capacity to react as Stiles launches himself at him; Derek tries to hold him back, but Stiles still manages to press their lips together and Derek melts into the feel of his mate’s kiss before his senses return and he pushes Stiles back.

“No, Stiles, we can’t,” Derek forces himself to say, the words growled out between deep breaths as he fights for control, “You’re sixteen, you’re a sophomore in high school; we are not having sex while you’re underage.”

“What?” Stiles whines, “Can we at least make-out?” he asks; with the thought that if he can get the wolf worked up enough it could lead to sexy-times.

“Can you stay away from my crazy uncle and out of danger?” Derek asks, knowing that the answer to the second one is no.  The reminder of his visit to Peter is enough to squash the thoughts of sexy-times Stiles had been building.  Derek continues, “I’m assuming that your visit to him had something to do with looking for a way to undo what’s happened to Scott.”

 

They sit down on the couch to review what Stiles has found in the bestiary, the laptop sitting on the table in front of them.

“So how did you manage to get a copy of the files from Peter’s laptop?” Derek asks, “and how did you get him to let you look at in the first place.”

“I pointed out that he doesn’t want to be an omega with those blue eyes of his, and that the only thing he had you wanted was knowledge, i.e. the Hale family bestiary, so if he should how useful it is you might be willing to reconsider him being pack,” Stiles smiles at the alpha, “Not that you would reconsider, after all I couldn’t lie to a werewolf could I?”  Derek snorts at false innocence Stiles looks at him with.

“And he was too busy paying attention to which pages I was looking at to notice me plugging in the thumb drive and copying the files while I flicked back and forth through the pages.  Don’t worry I don’t think he knows which ones I paid any attention to, I waited until I got home to really read them.”

“So, has you risking your life got us any other information than Scott has become a male bitch…”

“Intersex beta,” Stiles corrects him.

“An intersex beta,” Derek repeats.

“Yes and no,” Stiles sighs, “The bestiary gives us a lot more info on intersex betas, but everything in the book points to a bitten werewolf only becoming one on their first shift.  However,” Stiles pauses, “In the books I got from Deaton there is a curse, created by some sort of dark druid, a Darach or something, which makes a werewolf go through their first shift again on the night of the next new moon.  Though that still leaves the question of why he’d now be an intersex beta when he wasn’t the first time he went through his first shift.”

“And who cast the curse and when,” Derek adds.

“That I think I may have worked out,” Stiles smugly replies with a smile, “Gerard, the curse takes a lot of power, and could be fuelled with a sacrifice; like the casters own death.”

“So?”

“So, we need to check that Gerard actually is dead and in his grave,” Stiles grins at him, “I figure me and Isaac could dig him up tonight, check he’s there and if he used magic.  I mean Isaac used to work at the graveyard, right?”

Derek just frowns at him before they go over the notes in the bestiary about the difficulties an intersex beta faces during their heat, and their need to be tactile and intimate with their pack.  All of which leads to Derek letting slip something that infuriates Stiles.

 

“Seriously Derek!” Stiles angrily shouts, “You’re already sexing up Scott, but you won’t do more than kiss hug me?  Scott and I are the same age!  You haven’t even kissed me, and I’m your mate!”

 


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Jackson feels a little bit disheartened that Scott is less than enthusiastic as they are wandering around some of the stores in the mall trying to choose some new underwear for him.  Jackson decided that, given the physical changes Scott has gone through, some sexy female underwear is bound to be more comfortable and fit him better than boxer shorts or briefs; and for some reason that he doesn’t quite understand it’s really important to him that Scott likes what he buys him.

“Those look… interesting,” he hears Scott say, and turns to see him looking at a pair of blue panties that a little more than some straps connected to full lace back.

“Great,” Jackson beams at him, pleased that Scott’s finally on-board with him buying his new underwear, “We’ll get a pair of those too, in blue to match the others.” 

 


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Stiles hears Scott call out his name and looking around sees him sitting with Jackson outside the burger joint he was heading to buy his dad’s lunch.

“Hey buddy,” he greets as he walks over, a fake smile plastered to his face as he doesn’t want Scott asking what’s up and have to lie about his fight with Derek; he acknowledges Jackson’s presence with a simple, “Jackson.”

Jackson scowls at him, and he feels a little guilty at the coldness of his hello; especially given his closeness to the pack lately while he’s been trying to work out what was happening with Scott.

“Did you find anything?” Scott asks, and he picks up on the desperation in his voice

“Dude, it’s been like six hours, and like I told you, I’m not even sure I will find any way to reverse it.  Despite its effects on you we don’t even know what ‘it’ is.”

“I thought Derek said there was no way to undo this?” Jackson asks.

“Yes,” Stiles answers, “And Deaton thinks there is no way to reverse it either, but I told Scotty I’d look, even though the chances of me finding anything are remote.”

“Does Derek know?” Jackson asks; Stiles figures he must be picking up lingering trace of Derek’s scent clinging to his clothes.

“I dropped in on him to tell him on my way here, but Scotty had already told him,” Stiles replies his mind returning to his fight with Derek over him willing to stick his fingers in Scott’s pussy, but not willing to stick them in his mate’s ass.  And he knows Derek has a point about Scott being a very sexual and tactile kind of werewolf, but… it’s not Scott’s fault and he has to stop thing about this now, “So, yes he does.  Not that I would need to tell Derek what I’m doing anyway.”

Jackson looks like he’s going to comment on that, but his phone rings and he stalks off to answer it.

 

“So,” Stiles jumps in as he sees the wheels turning in Scott’s brain and knows he’s about to ask questions he doesn’t want to answer, “What super fun stuff have you been up to with,” he catches himself about to call Jackson by his name and knows that will just create more questions that Scott will ask, “Lizard breath?”

“Nothing much,” Scott replies, “He’s been buying lots of fancy underwear for Lydia.”

“Why’s he buying underwear for Lydia?” Stiles asks; he knows that despite their declaration of undying love that enabled Jackson to go from being a Kanima to a werewolf he broke up with Lydia because of his guilt over what Matt, and Gerard, made him do.  Though the real shocker was when Lydia and Allison became a couple.

“Because she’s his girlfriend?” Scott innocently replies.

“But she’s with Allison…” he says, not believing that his friend doesn’t know.

“Well, they must be presents for when she gets back from France.”

Before Stiles can correct Scott’s misconception Jackson returns.

“We need to go and let you get your pants cleaned up,” Jackson announces, looking at Scott, “Then we can head to your house to pack your bag, and let your mom know you’re staying with me tonight.”

“I should go too,” Stiles says as he walks away, knowing exactly what Jackson means by ‘staying with me tonight’, “I need to get this tofu burger to my dad before he snags one of the deputies’ blue cheese laden burgers.”  He knows nothing will happen that Scott doesn’t want to, but he worries about his friend’s reaction after the event.  He’s knows Scott hasn’t accepted what’s happened to him, and the desires he has; he’s never been able to accept those.  And he needs to before the full moon; especially if he can’t find a way to reverse it.

 


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“So, ready to talk?” Melissa asks as Scott and Jackson walk through the door.  When Scott stands there in silence she adds, “About this ‘wolf-thing’ that’s going on with you that you don’t want to talk about.”

“Your mom doesn’t know about… what’s happened?” Jackson asks shocked that Scott has kept something this big from his mom; then again he thinks maybe he shouldn’t be.

“Jackson,” Melissa greets him.

“Mrs McCall.”

“I guess you’re doing fine, now,” she weakly smiles at him, too wrought with worry about all that Scott is keeping from her, “And helping Scott with whatever this ‘wolf-thing’ is.”

“Yeah, no-longer a scaly lizard controlled by a psycho, my alpha’s really helping me get control of my wolf instincts and nature, and the having the pack around me helps keep me anchored,” he replies.

“And the ‘wolf-thing’?” she fixes him with a steely gaze.

“The pack are all going to be helping Scott with that,” he says, “It’s part of why Derek wants him to stay at mine tonight.”

“And neither of you are going to tell me what’s going on?” she asks; the fact that Scott is keeping something from her hurting more than she wants to show.  She wants to know and wants to help, but she needs to wait until he wants to let her in; and that is tearing her apart.

“It’s not for me to tell,” Jackson says, “But I plan to help Scott through it, so will the pack.”

“Fine.”  She walks through into the kitchen, needing to hide her tears.  She knew something was threatening her son, knew that he was in some sort of danger; and Jackson has just confirmed it.

 

“Dude!” Scott exclaims in hushed tones as he closes his bedroom door behind Jackson.

“What?” Jackson replies; as he places the bags he brought in from the car on Scott’s bed.

“Now she’s going to know there’s something seriously wrong with me that I’m keeping from her?”

“What?” Jackson asks, his brow creased in question.

“You know!” Scott hisses in reply as he points down at his crotch.

“McCall, believe me there is nothing seriously wrong with your vagina; seriously nothing wrong…”

“I shouldn’t have one!” Scott shouts at him, forgetting his mom is right downstairs, “I should have a cock and balls!”

“Everything alright up there?” Melissa shouts from the bottom of the stairs.

“Fine mom,” Scott shouts down to her.

“We’re just having a disagreement about what Scott’s problem is,” Jackson adds.  Scott glares at him.

“Scott?” his mom firmly asks.

“I don’t have a problem.”

“And I completely agree,” Jackson smirks.

“Fine,” they can hear the exasperation in her voice, “As your spending the night out I’m going out for dinner,” she shouts, “Love you.”

“Okay, see you tomorrow mom, love you too.”

 

“I’m going to grab a shower,” Scott says, walking to the bathroom.

“No, we’ll have a bath at my house,” Jackson grabs him by the waist and pulls him close, “That way you’ll smell more like me… like pack.”  Scott melts into his embrace.

“Fine,” he relents, going to his closet and picking up his backpack; he places it on his bed and starts picking out clothes to take to Jacksons.

“You don’t need those,” Jackson remarks, picking up Scott’s boxers and putting them back in the drawer.

“I need underwear,” Scott argues.

“You can wear a pair of the new stuff I bought you,” he says.

“What?  But you bought that for Lydia!”

“Why would I buy Lydia lingerie?  Even when we were together I wouldn’t buy her panties and bras.”

“But they’re girl’s underwear!”

“No, they’re your underwear.  They’ll fit you better than boxer briefs, with the pouch at the front flapping about,” Jackson says while rummaging about in one of the bags, “What about this one?” he asks, a smile spread across his face, “You said this one was interesting.”

“I…” Scott starts, and Jackson can see the warring emotions flit across his face; he briefly worries that Scott is going to reject the idea and lets out a soft breath when he says, “I guess.”

 

Jackson quickly helps Scott strip out of the shirt and pants he’s wearing and is soon helping him into the lace string panties.  He turns Scott to face the full length mirror, and stands close behind him.  His hand sliding up Scott’s chest, and his fingers lightly scraping over his erect nipples; breathing in the sweet honey filled scent that fills is nostrils.

“Perfect,” he whispers in his ear, “Scotty, you are completely perfect.”

And he can’t deny how good Scott looks to him in those skimpy panties, and with that blush tinting his cheeks.

 

Chapter Text

 

 

“So, we have to dig up Gerard’s coffin and check that he is actually in there,” Stiles states, his arms folded over chest as he looks Derek in the eye.  Isaac fidgets beside the alpha; feeling the rising ire rolling off him.

“No,” Derek replies simply.

“But… but…” Stiles splutters.

“You’re the sheriff’s son.”

“So?!”

“It would be illegal Stiles,” Derek rolls his eyes as he replies.

“Pft,” Stiles dismisses his objection, “It would hardly be the first time we’ve done something that we had to hide from my dad.”

“Stiles,” Derek starts.

“And how else are we gonna confirm he’s dead, and we?  We need to know…”

“There’s nothing to…”

“It’s the only explanation that we have right now, and if he’s dead there really might not be a way to reverse what he did…”

“What you think he did,” Derek corrects him, adding a little more forcefully, “And that doesn’t explain why Scott became a male bitch.”

“No, it doesn’t,” Stiles carefully says, and Derek knows that he’s being evasive, “But from everything you and Deaton have said, and from everything I’ve found from the bestiary, the only working theory we have is that Gerard must have cursed Scott for plotting against him.  The curse must have been to make him go through his first change again; because bitten werewolves only ever become intersex betas,” Stiles emphasises the use of the terminology preferred over male bitches, “So there is a connection between the two, and if Gerard is dead, then it’s likely he cast a death curse making it more powerful and less likely to be able to break.  And,” Stiles continues practically without taking a breath, “To have any chance of breaking it even if Gerard is alive we need to actually know what he cast.”

 

“And just what is your plan to get him to tell us what he cast?” Derek asks, “Assuming he is alive.”

“You go all grrr arrg…” Stiles says to Derek, baring his teeth as he snarls and holding his hands in front of him with his fingers hooked like claws.

“Like the mutant zombie in the end credits of Buffy?” Isaac asks, his face scrunched in question.

“What?! No!” Stiles exclaims in reply, “He goes all alpha-y in his alpha-ness and threatens to bite him.”

“Which is what he wanted in the first place, and what actually happened to him at the warehouse,” Derek points out.

“So, I may need to think of another plan for that,” Stiles admits, “But, the first order of business is me and Isaac, mainly Isaac, digging up his coffin and checking he’s actually in it.”

“Why am I digging him up?” Isaac demands, his eyes wide in distress.

“Because… dah…” Stiles gesticulates, “Werewolf with all the strength and stuff, and…” waving his hands up and down at himself, “a hundred and forty-seven pounds of weak human here; plus, you used to work at the cemetery so you’ll know what you’re doing.”

“You’re going to do this no matter what I say,” Derek sighs in resignation, one arm across his chest, the elbow of the other resting on it as he wipes at his forehead, “So, Isaac is going to have to be there to try and keep you from getting into any serious trouble.”  Isaac groans his acknowledgement.

“Yes,” Stiles smiles, restraining himself enough to stop from fist pumping the air.

 


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“Well you better finish getting undressed then; before the water gets cold, don't you think?  I did say we’d have a bath when we got here,” Jackson smiles at Scott.

“Together?” Scott practically squeaks in shock as his eyes widen and his eyebrows shoot for his hairline.

“Yes,” he replies, “Derek said to take care of you, and I plan to do just that.”  He intends to do just that, and prove he can provide for his… provide for Scott’s needs.

 

Jackson has filled the huge free standing tub with steaming water, and he’s placed lighted tea-light candles around the steam filled bathroom.

“Why are there candles lit around the room?” Scott asks, his confusion evident in his voice.

“I… I thought they’d help you… us… help us… relax,” Jackson stammers, unsure of himself and wondering if it’s too much for Scott to accept, “Lydia always said that having a hot, candle-lit, bath always helped her unwind,” he says by way of explanation, though in truth Jackson is unsure why he lit the scented candles; unsure why he felt it would help Scott and that he’d like it.  He quickly adds, “I figured we could try it, and that having the bath together would be intimate, like Derek says you need from the pack.  Right?”

“Oh,” Scott accepts his explanation, “Yeah, I guess.”

 

In the warmth of the water, and with the flickering light from the candles, Jackson soon finds Scott relaxing back against him.  The male bitch’s sweet scent surrounding him, and making him want… he damps down the growl threatening to erupt and wraps his arms around Scott’s waist and chest; his fingers lightly brushing against the hardening nipples that start to stand out from Scott’s smooth hairless chest. 

“You smell of Derek,” Scott says, his voice is heavy with sleep as his head falls back against Jackson’s chest.

“Not the same way you smell of Derek,” Jackson retorts, his fingers continue to brush and tease at Scott’s nipples; building a need deep in the both of them.

“Hmm?” Scott squirms back against him and he can feel Jackson’s hardness pressing at his back, “Please,” whines needily.

 

“Tell me what you need Scotty,” Jackson mouths wantonly against Scott’s ear, “Pack is family, pack looks after pack, and takes care of each other.  I’m here for you, just tell me what you need.”

Scott can’t voice what he wants.  He wants Jackson to take him, to fuck him, and make him come.  He grabs one of Jackson’s hands and lowers it down his body, pulling it towards the folds of his mound.

“No baby, not here,” Jackson says pulling back from him.  Scott whines in distress at the loss of contact, then Jackson is pulling him from the water, “Let’s get you dry and then we’ll take care of you, real good, on the bed, where you’ll be comfortable.”

 


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“Fuck,” Jackson huffed quietly to himself as he cleaned up the bathroom.

 

Everything had been going so well.  Scott was responding so nicely to him; readily accepting and seeking out the intimate touches that Jackson found he desperately wanted to give him.  So much more so than he had thought when his alpha had approached him to tell him about male bitches and what he would be required to do to help Scott accept his role in the pack; if Scott accepted the pack and Derek as his alpha.

Then suddenly Scott is snapping at him, his anger blazing in his eyes, and Jackson doesn’t know what he’s done wrong; doesn’t know why his… why the other beta’s mood has soured so quickly.

 

Jackson walks back into the bedroom; Scott is sitting in the middle of the bed, his back against the headboard and a pillow hiding his pussy.  He can see the confusion in his eyes as he sips from the glass of water.

“Why was I acting like that?” Scott whispers to himself.

“I’m guessing the hit of Derek’s scent you got from your sweatshirt,” Jackson says as he sits at the bottom corner of his own bed, “And you said my scent reminded you of him.  So you were acting on instinct.”

“I don’t like when the wolf takes over,” there’s a mix of fear and anger in Scott’s voice as he sharply replies, “I like to be in control of myself.”

“I can relate to that,” Jackson huffs in response, his thoughts returning to when he was acting on the instinct of the Kanima, and being controlled by first Matt and then Gerard.

“I…”

“It’s fine,” Jackson cuts off any apology Scott was going to make, it’s the last thing he wants.  He steers the conversation back to the reason they are here, “But from what Derek said on the full moon you are gonna be a slave to the need to get fucked unless we take care of you before then.  So what do want to do?”

“I guess we need to… do stuff.”

 

Jackson catches the sudden change in Scott’s scent.  The sweet honey scent from before and he suddenly feels predatory.  He climbs onto the bed and stalks his way up on all fours until he’s straddling Scott; his head next to Scott’s and his mouth over his ear.

“I didn’t ask what we need to do McCall; I want to know what Scotty wants to have done to him,” he growls low and wanton; he can smell the rising need in Scott, but also the fear of losing control to his wolf.

“So, what do you want to do Scott?” he whispers as his nose brushes against the tip of Scott’s ear; he doesn’t move an inch, the worry and fear grows in beta beneath him…

“We won’t do anything you don’t want to Scott,” Jackson says clearly.

“Can we just cuddle for now?”

“Of course we can,” he lies down behind Scott and spoons against his back.

 

As Scott lies there in his arms he can’t help but feel protective and possessive of the other wolf.

 


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Stiles slinks around the treeline at the edge of the graveyard.  He’s crouched down, dressed head to toe in black; jeans, hoodie, and sneakers.  Isaac crouches down beside him, he is dressed in a pair of blue jeans, a grey shirt, with a grey scarf thrown round his neck.

“You were supposed to dress in black,” Stiles quietly hisses at him, “You’re gonna be more noticeable dressed like that!  Seriously, what the hell is the scarf for?  We’re not on the catwalk at fashion week.”

“Noticed by who?  Gerard?” Isaac smirks, “There’s nobody here.”

“Grrr,” Stiles growls in annoyance, “Just because we haven’t seen anyone, doesn’t mean that someone won’t turn up; there will be security guards patrolling, or…”

“No one is going to be at the cemetery after midnight, except us,” Isaac insists, “The security guards never patrol after eleven until six in the morning, they just watch the feed from the security cameras at the gates.  We have six hours to dig him up, check the body and bury him again.  And with the backhoe it will be easy.”

“How are we gonna use…?”

“I know where the keys are kept,” Isaac smiles at him, “I used to work here remember, and you know, I’m a werewolf so getting into the hut without the keys isn’t exactly a problem.  The padlock’s not that sturdy anyway.”

 

Stiles frantically looks around them as Isaac uses the digger to quickly dig down into Gerard’s grave.  Isaac can sense the human’s nervous excitement and feels himself getting caught up in it; nervous excitement running through them as their glances dart around them, jumping with every noise and the sound of the digger pulling the earth from over the grave.  With most of the soil removed, they jump into the grave and use spades to clear the earth from the top of the coffin.

With the coffin finally uncovered Stiles tries to pry the lid open.  There’s a loud crack as wood splinters from the edge of the coffin lid; other than cracked edge of the lid it doesn’t budge.  He looks up to see Isaac smirking down at him.

“You wanna give this a try?” he snarks at the other teen.  Isaac raises his eyebrows at the challenge and jumps down.  Taking the crowbar from Stiles he quickly pries open the coffin lid and his hit fully by the stench of rising from the body.  Both teens quickly cover the noses and mouths; Isaac taking advantage of the scarf around his neck to cover his nose and mouth while Stiles tries to block the smell by burying his nose and mouth in the crook of his elbow.

“Bet you wish you had a scarf now,” Isaac smirks at him.  Stiles glowers at him from behind his arm.

“Bet with your werewolf senses it still smells like a hundred times worse for you than for me,” Stiles retorts, “Now let’s check it is killer grandpa in there…”

 

“Fuck!” Stiles exclaims as they see the black ooze staining the white fabric inside the coffin surrounding Gerard’s body.  Stiles reaches into his pocket and takes some powder from a small plastic bag and rubs it into his palms.

“What’s that?” the beta wolf asks as he sniffs at Stiles.

“It’s something Deaton taught me how to make,” Stiles replies, hoping he mixed and ground the herbs correctly, “The powder on my hand will glow if there’s magic around the body.  Which if he cast the curse on Scott there will be.”

“Why will the powder glow?”

“How should I know?” Stiles rolls his eyes at Isaac who scowls back from behind his scarf, “It’s not like Deaton actually told me when I asked him.  I think it’s because it absorbs the energy and reacts to it,” Stiles adds before turning back to the task at hand.

 

Stiles holds his hand out, palm down towards the body, his face set in determined concentration.  It isn’t long before the film of powder covering his palms begins to glow.

“I knew it!” he exclaims in excitement at having successfully performed another magical feat.

“Well, now what?” Isaac asks.

“We cover him up again and head back to Derek’s.”

 


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When Stiles and Isaac returned to the loft after their visit to the cemetery, their clothes and hair covered in dirt and mud, Derek sent them both to shower.  Isaac in the main bathroom and Stiles in Derek’s own, connected to his bedroom.

As Stiles walked out of Derek’s room towards the top of the stairs where Derek was standing his eyes tracked Stiles’s every move; he couldn’t contain the satisfied grin that twitched at the corners of his mouth as he watched him, his hair damp and the scent of Derek’s shower gel clinging to him.  It helped too that Stiles had to borrow one of Derek’s shirts to wear; his own caked in something foul smelling from digging up Gerard.  It pulled a satisfied rumble of ‘mine’ from Derek’s chest.

 

“Deaton’s here,” Derek says to Stiles; Deaton had arrived while the boys were cleaning up, and Derek need to remind himself that his mate was underage and in high school before sight of him in one of his own shirts caused him to act on his instinct and do something he’d regret.

“Great, maybe he knows what we can do for Scott now we know Gerard is definitely dead and definitely cast the curse,” the words rushing from Stiles’s mouth, “I have a theory and I don’t think Scott will like it, so I want to check with Deaton,” he continues saying to Derek as he walks down the stairs and heads to where Deaton and Isaac are sitting; Derek following behind him.

 


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“Must have been a nice dream you were having,” Jackson growls against Scott’s neck, nuzzling at the nape, “You were moaning so loudly, and have gotten so wet I can smell it with my nose buried between the pillow and the back of your head.”

“I don’t remember it,” Scott says and they can both hear the lie.

“Scotty,” Jackson’s tone is full of the desire that Scott’s scent has aroused in him, but also contains a hint of menace and warning.  Derek told him how important it was for Scott to be able to voice his needs and desires; how as a male bitch he would need the affection of the pack, “We both know that isn’t true.  You should tell me what’s gotten you so turned on; maybe we can make it a reality…”

A pitiful whine of shame and humiliation is torn from Scott’s throat.

 

“McCall,” Jackson says without a trace of the horniness that was there moments ago, “You know I’m trying to help you here, right?”

“Right?” he asks again when Scott doesn’t reply.  Scott merely nods his agreement.

“Okay, so come on; talk to me, I’m not gonna judge.  There’s nothing you can tell me that will make me think less of you.  Help me to help you, what was your wet dream about?”

Stumbling over the words Scott falteringly starts to tell Jackson about his dream; coaxed by Jackson’s light touches that tease at the folds of his new sex.

 

Jackson can feel his own needs rising as he watches Scott finger himself; the scent of Scott’s fluids mixing with the scent of desire from both of them, that same sweet honey scent he caught before making him feel strangely possessive of rubbing his clitoris in front of him.

“So hot Scotty, look at yourself as you show me how Derek rubbed you there…” Jackson’s words are growled out; husky and deep.  He can’t just watch and soon has his own fingers join Scott’s inside Scott’s pussy.

“Look at you, so sexy, so horny, and needy,” Jackson whispers against his neck, breathing deeply of the sweet scent from Scott’s skin.

“Please, Jacks, please, I need…”

“Tell me what you need, babe…”

“Fuck!” Scott’s screams in need.

“I can’t fuck your pussy babe, I want to so much, but our alpha said not to risk getting you pregnant… I can’t disobey Derek’s order.”  He so badly wants to.

 

Soon Scott is gripping the sheets of the bed while Jackson’s cock pounds into his ass and the vibrator Jackson gave him is pressed against his clit.  Jackson’s knot is forming and…

“Scotty…if…you…want…me…to…knot…you…tell…me…or…I’m…pulling…out…” he says between rapidly shortening thrusts.  Scott grabs Jackson’s ass and pulls him deep into him; the knot stretching Scott as it sinks in and locks them together.

 

Jackson only just manages to stop himself from biting into Scott’s neck; a bite that would claim him as his mate.  The force of Scott’s orgasm causes him to black out, and as Jackson gathers his wits he cleans Scott up as best he can while they are still tied and settles them under the covers.

“Sleep,” Jackson nuzzles against Scott’s neck a little while later when he briefly wakes and they both exhaustedly do fall into a contented sleep.

 


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Jackson wakes to the feeling that something is very wrong.

 

It doesn’t take long for him to realise that Scott is no longer in his bed.

“Scott?!” he calls as leaps from his bed and checks his bathroom.  With no sign of the beta he races through the house calling his name.

 

He can’t think what he did wrong or think of any reason for Scott to have left.  But he must have done something to make him sneak out in the middle of the night.  With mounting worry he calls Derek to let him know, and hope his alpha knows how to fix the situation.

 

One thing Jackson feels for certain, even if he doesn’t understand why, is that what he had with Scott last night is not something he wants to lose.

 

Chapter Text

 

 

Melissa is sitting on her bed trying to come up with a plausible explanation.  She knows they weren’t there last week when she finished the laundry and was putting Scott’s clothes back.  She used to leave his freshly laundered clothes on his bed, but then found he never put them away.  So, if she didn’t do it they would be lying around his room and soon enough he wouldn’t know what was clean and what was needing laundered.  And those panties were definitely not there last week.

Her first thought on finding them was to wonder if Allison has been staying over with him on nights that she has shifts at the hospital and that the underwear is hers, it reminded her of the box of condoms that she found in his room that one time; but as far as she knows the girl is still on vacation in France.

It doesn’t help that she knows Scott is lying to her.  She doesn’t want to be one of ‘those mothers’; the kind that try to micro manage everything their children do.  But she can’t help but worry about him, and want to help and protect him.  He’s her son; and that means she should be doing all she can to support him and help him, but she can’t do that when he shuts her out and keeps her in the dark.  She knows he has lied about whatever this ‘werewolf-thing’ going on is; Jackson Whittemore, more or less, confirmed her suspicions on that.

 

And now that she knows there are werewolf-things, knows that her son is one and has some first-hand experience of just how dangerous, she still needs to try and help and protect her baby boy.  No matter how little that help she has to offer is; it’s her son and she wants to support and protect him however she can.

 

She hears the click of the lock in the door as Scott re-enters the house, and the creak of each step as he tries to sneak quietly back into his room.

"Are you ready to talk yet?” she asks standing in the doorway, “If you don’t tell me what is going on…” he cuts her off with a pleading ‘Mom’ before she can say ‘I can’t help’.

“No, Scott,” she says, the frustration of being shut out of her kid’s life bleeding into her voice, “No more lies.  You told me that you were helping the pack with a ‘wolf-thing’, and yesterday Jackson said the pack were helping you with whatever this ‘wolf-thing’ is.  I know you need your privacy, but you’re still my son and I’m worried that something is very wrong,” she says walking over to the bed, every intention of not being ‘one of those moms’ going out the window as her need to protect her son takes over.  “I need you to talk to me, to tell me what this wolf-thing is, to tell me how I can help and let me help; and…  does it have anything to do with the underwear I found in your drawer when I was putting the laundry away.”  She sits on the bed and looks at him with a mix of hope and trepidation.

 

“Underwear?” he asks walking over to her.

“Yes.  The blue lace panties, several pairs of blue lace, silk, and satin panties.”

“In my…”

“Yes Scott, with the rest of your underwear; now tell me what’s going on with you, and why you have blue panties with your boxers.”

“I thought Jackson was buying them for Lydia…”

“Then why are they in your drawer?” she asks with her brow creased in confusion.  She sees the tears start at the corners of his eyes and she worries that maybe her son is being hazed by the pack and forced to wear the panties, but before she can voice her thoughts…

“What’s going on with me?  You really wanna know?  Well, I’m pretty much convinced that I’m totally out of my freaking mind,” Scott yells, before telling her what’s happened to him.

 

“So,” Melissa says before taking a moment to gather her thoughts; what her son just told her was not anywhere near what she expected, “Let me get this straight… two days ago you woke up to discover that, apart from on your head, all of your hair had fallen out of their follicles, and you have a va…”

“Yes!” Scott interrupts her; she didn’t see how this was possible, but given her son is now a werewolf she wonders if she should be as taken aback by the revelation as she is.

“And so you went to Derek Hale, the alpha werewolf you’ve been avoiding since the Kanima and Gerard Argent incidents, who said you’ve become this special sort of werewolf?”

“Yes,” he replies, his face still turned down and looking away in embarrassment.

“And you didn’t believe him so he took you to see Deaton, who told you the same thing?”

“Yes.”

“And Deaton ran some tests and said you were a robot?” her voice rises in pitch questioningly over the last words.

“Some sort of android,” he answers, and she realises she is going to have to talk to Deaton and Hale because Scott has to have misunderstood.

“And this special werewolf you’ve become needs to be close to the pack, so that when you go into ‘heat’ it’s not as bad as it could be,” and that is something she would rather not think of, “Which is why you were staying over at Jackson Whittemore’s last night?”

“Yeah; that’s what everyone tells me,” Scott unhappily confirms, and in a rush of words his feelings pour out, “But I don’t want to be this special werewolf, I want to go back to the werewolf I was, and Stiles is going to find a way to undo it…” his flow of words stopping as the door to my bedroom flies open.

 

“No, no,” Stiles says tripping over himself as he hangs on to the door handle, “That’s not what I said.”

“Stiles?!” both Melissa and Scott say at the same time; Melissa with a little more puzzlement to her voice.

“How did you get in?” she asks him.

“Through the front door,” Stiles smiles as her.

“It was locked,” she replies, knowing that she heard Scott lock the door.

“I locked it when I came in,” Scott adds.

“I used my key,” Stiles holds up the front door key in reply.

“When did… you know what never mind,” she says exasperatedly, “What’s not what you said?”

 

“I didn’t say I was going to find a way to reverse…” Stiles waves his hands about in Scott’s direction, “the changes; I said I was going to try,” he firmly emphasis’s the words he thinks Scott needs to focus on, “But that I might not be able to, especially given Deaton and Derek both say there is no way to undo… the changes.”

“And there isn’t?” Melissa asks him, turning to Scott she sees the trepidation etched in his eyes as they wait on Stiles’s answer.

“It doesn’t… the thing is…”

But you’ve only been looking for a day!” Scott explodes, leaping from the bed, “You can’t give up!

“Scott!” Melissa exclaims at his sudden outburst of anger.

“I’ve already got Derek pissed at me,” Stiles starts saying.

“Language,” she warns Stiles.

“I don’t need you growling at me too,” he finishes griping at Scott.

“Derek’s pi… angry that there’s no cure?” Scott’s query edged with sadness, both Stiles and Melissa pick up on the hint of the emotion Scott tries to hide; Melissa is unsure what to make of it, while Stiles is only too certain what it means.

“No,” Stiles states, “Derek’s not happy that I spent time at Uncle Bad-Touch going through the Hale family archives, and then digging up Gerard’s grave with Isaac last night to make sure he really was dead.”

“You did what?!” Melissa cries out.

“It’s fine,” Stiles brushes off the concern, “Isaac used to work at the graveyard so we were able to fill it all back in properly before we went back to the loft.”

 

“Why don’t we continue this in the kitchen,” Melissa says as Scott’s stomach rumbles loudly.

 


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“So,” Stiles says between another mouthful of cereal, “Yesterday when Scotty was getting some pack time with Jackson, oh, I should totally call Derek and let him know you are here and safe,” he suddenly veers of topic, “Apparently Jackson was freaking out when he woke up and you weren’t there, I told Derek I’d check here after I’d showered as you weren’t answering your phone.”  Stiles taps a text out on his phone and sends it.

It suddenly occurs to Melissa, now that she’s been told about the ‘special kind of werewolf’ that her son has now turned into, just what that ‘pack time’ he spent with the Whittemore boy entailed.  And really she is not ready to become a grandmother; not yet, and not while she is still trying to get her head around the idea that her son might be the one to become pregnant.

“Do we need to have another talk with the pamphlets from the clinic?” she asks Scott; he shakes his head ‘no’ in reply.

“Good,” she states, “I don’t want my son starring in some MTV show because some other werewolf has gotten him pregnant.  You had enough sense to use protection with Allison…” at Scott’s wide-eyed and open-mouthed expression she continues, “Oh, don’t look so shocked, do you really think I didn’t know when I found the open packet of condoms in your room?”

 

“Why were you showering at Derek’s?” Scott quickly asks Stiles to divert the attention away from himself.

“Because Isaac and I were covered in mud from digging up Gerard’s grave to make sure he was in there,” Stiles replies giving Scott a look saying ‘it was obvious’, “And boy am I glad I don’t have werewolf senses, the smell off a decomposing rotting corpse is… I almost felt sorry for Isaac.”

“But…”

“And it’s not like I wanted to head home covered in mud where my father, the Sheriff, could start asking question I couldn’t answer; it’s not like I like lying to him about what’s really going on in this town, so I’d rather avoid having to.  Anyway, as I was saying while you were with Jackson having…”

“I think we all know by now what he was having with Jackson,” Melissa intervenes; her tone clearly letting both Stiles and Scott know she doesn’t want to brought up again. 

“Right…” Stiles grimaces as he mouths ‘sorry’ at Scott, “So, I went to talk to Deaton before meeting Uncle Bad-Touch, and tried to get some answers.  First he didn’t call you an android, he said you were gynandroid.”

“Deaton told you about Scott’s…?” Melissa asks, shocked at the man talking about his patient with someone else; then it occurs to her that he’s not a doctor but a veterinarian.

“He figured I should know, he’s been training me to handle my ‘spark’ and to be able to become a pack emissary after all, so I need to know about this sort of stuff.  So, gynandroid, I had to look that up…”

“It means hermaphrodite, or a person who does not fit into either traditional male or female gender roles or stereotypes, but leans towards the female end of the balance,” Melissa says; Stiles and Scott both look at her, “What?” she asks, “I am a nurse, I have medical training.”

“Right, so,” Stiles continues, “Deaton also told me that he’d only ever heard of this, never seen or known of it, and that every case had been during the bitten wolf’s first change.”

“Yeah, I remember something about him saying that it usually happened with the first change,” Scott states wondering why Stiles is stressing the point.

No, Scotty, not usually, only ever.  Every case he had heard of, because he had never seen one before; and every one had been during their first full moon.  And it is only ever bitten wolves.”

“I don’t get it,” Scott says, confused by what Stiles is telling them.

 

“Neither did I,” Stiles replies, “That’s why I went to see Peter and ask to look at the Hale bestiary,” adding with a grumble, “Which Derek didn’t appreciate.”

“Why?” Scott’s confusion is clear on his face as he asks.

“Because Peter isn’t part of the pack, and Derek doesn’t want him knowing anything about you… changing.  So, in there I found that all born werewolves are binary gendered, male or female, there are no transgendered or third sex children born werewolves.  If a transgendered human is bitten, and survives the bite, during their first full moon they transition to the sex they identify as.  The only known cases of intersex werewolves have been bitten werewolves where the person bitten didn’t identify as either male or female; and their change was always the first full moon after they were bitten.”

“But what does this mean?” Scott asks, he doesn’t see how this relates to him; his first shift was months ago and he didn’t become an ‘android’ then.  The other stuff, the thoughts that might be the cause only really started after he was bitten, so he knows they are the wolf’s not his.

“It means Deaton was wrong, you weren’t evolving.  Somehow, at the new moon, you went through a shift as if it was your first full moon shift.  It has to be that someone cursed you.”

 

“Gerard!” Scott shouts, “So, if you know it’s a curse then…”

“And this is where Deaton was right.  We don’t know exactly what the curse is, or what it was supposed to do.  If we try to undo it we could make things worse, and if it was his own death that fuelled the curse then it might be impossible to undo.”

“That’s why you were digging up Gerard,” Melissa states, “To check that he really was dead.”

“Yeah,” Stiles sighs, “If he had been alive we could have tracked him down to make him tell us what the curse was so we could reverse it, but he must have cursed Scott as he was dying so his death added extra power to the curse and triggered the changes to start happening, but we don’t know what he intended to happen, only the effect it’s had.  Deaton thinks all of this is just speculation.”

“This is all speculation…” she starts to say.

“But it fits with the known facts,” Stiles replies.

“Except it doesn’t make sense,” she firmly retorts, “If the curse was to make him go through his first change again, why was the change different?  Why didn’t he just become a werewolf like he did on his first change?  Why is he now a gynandroid?”

“That’s why we don’t have a way to undo it,” Stiles answers, “We don’t know what’s different.  I'm still looking for some way to undo this, but, if I’m right and it is Scott’s first shift happening again, then… well the full moon is still a couple of weeks away and… Derek says the only cure for a bitten werewolf he’d ever heard of was to kill the alpha that bite you before your first shift on the first full moon.  Of course he doesn’t know if that’s true, and even if it is we don’t know that it would work with Peter not being the alpha anymore; but at least we’d be rid of zombie wolf.”

Of the options Stiles discussed with Derek and Deaton before coming over here, this is the only one he wants to bring up just now.  The spells and rituals he uncovered could make things worse; especially if his theory on the curse just being to cause Scott to relive his first change are correct, and his becoming intersex is because of what Scott still denies even to himself.

 

“I don’t want this; I don’t like being like this, my wolf likes being this werewolf for the pack I don’t.  I want to be like I was before; I don’t want my wolf taking control… but I can’t kill Peter on a slim chance that it would turn me back…” Scott’s voice is barely audible, but it gets Stiles attention and makes him look across the table at his friend.

“You were going to kill him on the slim chance that it would work before,” Stiles says, internally seething at Scott given his reaction to Derek when they killed Peter, “You were pissed off at Derek for killing him instead and taking your chance of being human again away!  The chances of it working haven’t changed, there still slim to none…”

“Stiles!” Melissa silences him, “That’s enough, Scott isn’t killing anyone, especially for some ‘cure’ that most likely isn’t going to work.”  She looks down at the table, her mind processing everything that she has heard from both boys; some of it she is still trying to accept is possible, and thinks to herself if werewolves and kanima are, why not just accept it.  “Okay, Scott, you said that Deaton performed tests on you?”

“Yeah.  He examined me and…”

“Fine,” she continues, “I want to talk to him and see exactly what we’re dealing with, maybe gender reassignment surgery…”

“No,” Stiles interjects, “Sorry mama McCall, but I asked Deaton and Derek about that option.  Apparently werewolf healing kicks in and undoes the changes created by the surgery.  Werewolves can’t even get a nose job or breast enlargement, or anything like that.  Their healing just starts to undo everything and puts things back as they were.”

“I still want to talk to Deaton,” Melissa says looking sternly at Stiles, “I want to see what his examinations of my son show; I want answers, not more questions.”

 


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When she talked with Deaton he confirmed everything that Scott and Stiles had told her.  He did concede that his equipment wasn’t intended to human examinations, and with that Melissa put into action a plan that she could understand.

 

As she and Scott walk into the hospital she sees Derek Hale waiting for them.

“What’s he doing here?” Scott asks her.

“He’s paying for the use of the facilities,” she replies.

“For what?”

“A better examination than a vet can perform on you at his clinic,” she answers; the closer they get to the room the more her heart is hammering.  As Derek sits at the door of the room and Scott follows her in she heads to the examination chair and adjusts it to the angle they’ll need.  As much as what the results of this exam will mean she knows that she needs to get a grip of herself; she needs to be strong for her son and support him through this.  He needs her.  ‘How difficult can this be?’ she thinks to herself, after all she has seen him naked; she used to bathe him when he was a boy… and by that she means when he was younger and not a teenager.

 

“Okay sweetie, you need to disrobe from the waist down and put this drape on,” she says handing Scott the hospital gown.  As he starts to disrobe she sees that he’s wearing one of the pairs of blue panties.

“They’re one of the pairs Jackson bought me,” he says as he looks at her.

“Very nice, but I need you to take them off so Deaton can… start,” she forces a smile as she turns to talk to Deaton.  This may be more difficult than she thought.

 

“I need you to lie back with your knees bent and feet placed in stirrups,” she says her eyes fixed firmly Scott’s once he has taken the underwear off and is sitting in the chair, “Deaton is going to gently insert this transducer into your… into your vagina and rest it against the cervix.  This will give clearer images than those taken with the pelvic exam he did before, so when we look at the results, along with the ones Deaton already has we’ll have a better understanding of what’s happened.  It will only be about ten to fifteen minutes.”

 

The quiet whine had barely left Scott’s lips when Melissa heard the door open and close behind her and suddenly Derek was at Scott’s side and taking his hand, his other hand brushing through Scott’s hair.  She sees how quickly Scott settles and calms under the other werewolf’s touch and turns to Deaton for him to continue the exam.

 

With the physical examination over it becomes far easier for Melissa to look at the results and disassociate her emotions from them; to look at them clinically and not as a worried parent.

“His clitoral glans is about an inch long,” Deaton states, “Which is larger than would be expected, and the urethral opening is through the clitoral glans… It is in effect still a penis.”

“But his testes have receded,” she states as she looks over the results, “So what is producing the testosterone?  He is hormonally and genetically still male.

“Strictly speaking he is neither male or female, and both,” Deaton corrects her, “The labia and vagina walls are all perfectly formed and he now has a fully functioning set of ovaries.  The uterus and cervix look good and he is fully capable of conceiving and giving birth.  His menstrual cycle is likely to follow the lunar cycle as will his heats…”

“We’ll need to discuss and arrange birth control,” Melissa blurts out, something she never thought she would need to discuss with her son again after the condom talk; and she never considered needing to discuss female contraceptive options with him, or periods…”

“Normal contraceptive pills won’t be affective with his werewolf…” Deaton starts to say, but Melissa cuts in.

“Well there are other forms of contraception…” she states, her own words then cut off by Derek.

“Werewolves can’t use condoms,” Derek quietly adds, not looking her in the eye, “We… Our… They may stretch quite a bit, but our knots tend to cause them to tear with…”

“If you think you’re getting my teenage son pregnant during his… during the next full moon, or before then, you’re very much mistaken, there has to be some form of birth control that…”

 

I’ll just stay clear of the pack!” Scott screams at them; breaking up their conversation.

“Scott, you need a pack, you need an alpha,” Derek says

“Scott, honey, we…” Melissa starts to say at the same time.

“No, all of you arguing about what’s best for me, it’s my body it’s happening to, and it’s my choice,” Scott yells before he turns and runs out of the door.

 

Melissa stands there shocked at Scott’s reaction.  She knows that it’s happening to him, that it’s his body, and his choice; but she realises that while she was worrying about him, and trying to be strong enough to support him and hide her own fear, she never told him that.

 

 

Chapter Text

 

 

Jackson has been wracking his brain trying to think of what he did wrong and he hasn’t come up with anything; he is so sure that Scott enjoyed himself as much as he did himself.  At least while they were fucking he did.  He could feel the satisfaction rolling off him; he knows it wasn’t just his own pleasure he could smell and sense.  So what went wrong?  Why did Scott leave so abruptly, without waking him?

 

When he talked to Derek the alpha told him not to worry; that it is just Scott fighting his own desires and needs because he is still adjusting to the change.  Told him that the pack will need to help him understand that they don’t judge him for what he is, and that they accept him; that it is natural for him to be like he is.  And Jackson wants to help Scott accept his nature.  He knows it will take time for Scott to come to terms with the changes that have happened to him, and he doesn’t want to push him too far and too fact; but his heat is coming and he needs to be ready to deal with it.

 

He tries to think of what he can do to help.  The only thing he comes up with is to buy him more lingerie, like the panties he bought him at the mall; he seemed to like those.

 

He can buy most of the items – like panties, stockings, garters and garter belts – from any store that sells women’s underwear, but some items would need to be from a more specialist store.  He’s sure that Scott wouldn’t want to be stuffing a bra to make it look like he had tits; he still identifies as male.  So Jackson starts scouring the internet for somewhere that makes feminine style underwear for men.

 

It doesn’t take him long to find ‘crossdressercloset.com’, ‘crossdressusa.com’, and ‘drag-queen.com’; while the underwear they have won’t suit Scott for the same reason any other store, the pantyhose, stockings, shoes, dresses would be perfect as they are designed and sized for a male body.  On ‘xdress.com’ he finds the bras, camisoles, baby-dolls, that are intended for a man to wear; though here the panties won’t do for Scott as they are designed for a man with a cock and balls.

 

From the site he’s found, and from ‘victoriassecret.com’ and ‘agentprovocateur.com’, he soon has ordered a plethora of panties, bras, stockings, and garters for Scott.  He’ll leave the shoes, skirts, dresses, and negligees and until after he’s talked to him and Scott’s accepted these from him.  Which he has to.

 


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“So,” Stiles says tapping away on his phone as he sits on his bed beside Scott, “I’ve texted your mom and Derek to let them know you’re safe, alive and with me.”

“What?! Why?”

“Because they both sent me a text asking if I’d seen you, and they both were worried about you.”

“Oh,” Scott replies, before agitatedly asking, “They’re not coming here, are they?”  Stiles hears the worry bleeding out in Scott’s voice as he asks, “I don’t want to…”

“It’s okay, I said you needed some time,” Stiles placates him, raising his hands up as if to calm a startled animal, “That whatever was said at the hospital, you needed time to work through, on your own.”

“Thanks,” Scott replies, and Stiles sees him visibly relaxes and leans back against the wall, his legs dangling off the edge of the single bed.

 

They sit in silence, but Stiles can’t sit still; his legs bouncing and his fingers tapping as if straining to keep in all the secrets he can’t currently tell his friend.

“Is that one of Derek’s shirts?” Scott asks out of the blue startling him.

“I… I must have put it on after I showered at his place…” Stiles replies as he looks down, his eyes going wide, as he realises he’s wearing one of Derek’s Henley’s.

“Take it off!” Scott shouts; jumping from the bed.

“What?! Why?” he asks scrambling off the bed after him, scared his friend is about to run.

“Because I don’t trust myself… I mean I don’t trust what my wolf might make me do when I catch his scent.  I keep losing control when I catch the pack’s scent, especially Derek’s, my wolf more easily takes over and I don’t know what I might do…”

“Okay, here, I’ll take it off and put on one of my shirts,” Stiles says, his stomach bare as he stretches up and pulls the Henley over his head.

“No, here, wear mine,” Scott replies taking off his shirt and leaving him in his undershirt, “My scent covering his should help.”

“Fine,” he grumbles, pulling on Scott’s shirt, Derek’s consigned to the laundry pile in the bottom of his closet.

 

“So,” Stiles says fidgeting again only a few minutes after they sit back down, “Wanna talk about the hospital visit with your mom, and what’s got you so freaked out?”

“No,” Scott whines, Stiles watching as his friend slumps back against the wall.

“Okay,” Stiles replies, stretching out the vowels, “We can play some Call of Duty…”

“Everything’s wrong,” Scott suddenly starts to vent, “They were talking about me as if I wasn’t even there, all of them, making decisions and deciding what was best for me without even asking me.  Everybody acting like all I can do is roll over and take it from everyone in the pack, like I just have to give in to what I want… I mean what my wolf wants.”

“What were they deciding for you?”

“Everything, that I had to go on birth control, and that I needed a pack, and I needed an alpha; I already have a pack, you and Allison are my pack…”

“Allison’s in France, with Lydia, and neither Allison or I are werewolves Scotty,” Stiles interrupts him; trying to get him to see their, and his, concern, “Also, I think for it to be counted as a pack you need an alpha and three betas, so I don’t think just the two of us, you and me, is enough…”

“But…”

“And, given when you’re in heat remaining chaste is not an option, is birth control really a bad idea?”

 

Why are you on their side?!” Scott snaps at him, “I thought you said you’d have my back?

“Scotty, I am on your side, they should be explaining everything to you and letting you decide what happens to your body.  All I’m saying is you do need a pack to help you…” he briefly pauses trying to find the best way to explain to his friend that while he agrees with him he can see he does need a plan-b if a way to reverse the effects of the curse can’t be found, “From what I’ve read in the bestiary I copied from Peter you’re not really gonna have a choice come the full moon…”

NO!  I won’t let my wolf…

“That’s the point Scott, it is your wolf, you,” Stiles bites out, “Derek has been telling you that this whole time; the wolf and you are one in the same.  It’s your base desires, your primal instinct that is the wolf.  It’s like psych-101, the wolf is your id, the ‘you’ that is fighting it is your superego, and you’re not letting your ego referee the match.”

“No, it’s not, I don’t want to want those things!”

“Yes, Scotty, I think you do,” vexed at Scott’s inability to acknowledge his long-standing kinks, “You’re forgetting I’ve seen the porn you looked at, I helped you clean out your browser history.”

“No, I told you I didn’t know how that stuff got there…”

“Bro! I don’t need your wolfy senses to know that’s a lie,” Stiles snaps at him, his frustration building as his fists clench and unclench with the fear of what could happen to Scott if he can’t get him to listen and understand.  “Look,” he continues more calmly, “You don’t have a pack that can help get you through a heat, and from what I read in the bestiary, I don’t want you to go through that kind of pain; I love you bro, you’re my brother, but if you don’t have a pack you are going…”

“No!” Scott growls at him, and Stiles knows he isn’t going to listen, “I don’t need them deciding stuff for me and I don’t need them to help me through this.  Deaton thought I didn’t need an alpha, he thought I was strong enough to not become an omega even without one… I’m not going to give in, I’m going to prove to you all that I can get past this full moon without the pack.”

 

Scott turns and throws open a window, jumping down to the ground he runs.

“Scott!” Stiles repeatedly shouts from the open window, but the calls are ignored.

 


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He’d half expected to find the window locked, but it wasn’t.  It makes it easier for Derek to slip into Scott’s bedroom while the boy’s mother is downstairs.  He can hear her crying, smell the worry and sadness from here.

 

But he needs to find what Stiles isn’t telling him, and what Scott possibly isn’t admitting to himself.  There’s a flaw in Stiles’ theory about Gerard having cursed Scott and that he had gone through his first change again.  It shouldn’t have resulted in Scott becoming a pack bitch… an intersex beta… when he didn’t transform into one the first time around.  There had to be more to it.  Scott had to have realised something about himself since he was bitten that would have caused that change; and Stiles must have known about it to leap to the conclusions he has.

 

Quickly looking under the bed, he doesn’t find anything beyond what would be under most teenage boy’s beds.  It’s the same with his closet and the drawers in the dresser; apart from the blue panties that he recalls in the hospital he heard Scott tell his mother that Jackson bough them for him.

Bumping the laptop sitting on top of the dresser, its screen lights up waiting for password to be entered.  He grumbles quietly to himself then remembers something Peter said when his uncle caught him trying to access his laptop to get access to the bestiary.

‘Nephew, please.  Unlike a hapless teenage werewolf my username and password is a little more complex than the name of my girlfriend’, Peter had smirked.

“Unlike a hapless teenage werewolf you can't find anyone willing to touch you,” Derek had snarled back, “Not without paying.”

 

Derek thinks it can’t be that easy; he must have changed it.  He types in ‘allison’.  Scott hadn’t changed it.

 

It only takes a couple of clicks to find a folder called ‘Private Special Stuff’.  But the contents still shock him.

The pictures and videos of dark haired young men being spanked with deep red asses probably shouldn’t have shocked him given Scott’s reaction to the spanking previously; but then he sees the ones with flogging, and how marked some of the bottoms are once the spanking or flogging is over.

Then there are the dark haired young men looking ashamed at being caught in high-heels, stockings and little else.  Or, bending over as they smooth out the wrinkles on their stockings and their naked ass and hard cock framed by the straps from the garter-belt.

And the dark haired young men, naked save for some stockings and a pair of high-heels, laying back on a bed, their legs spread as they are surrounded by a group of guys jacking off and shooting their loads over the stocking-clad boys face, chest, hair, and hard throbbing cock.

Then Derek sees the one of the naked dark haired man on his hands and knees, the thick leather collar around his neck, his head tilted and raised at an angle as someone out of shot pulls on the leather leash attached to the collar…

While not all the subjects of the videos and pictures are dark-haired the majority are; and a large portion of those bare a resemblance to Scott.  Clear indication to Derek of where Scott’s interest in these lies.

 

He hears Scott’s mother leaving, heading to buy some pizza for dinner, and Scott slowly climbing up the stairs.

 

With what Derek has found, Stiles’ theory seems far more plausible.  If these… interests had been repressed and Scott only allowed them to surface after being bitten…

Derek looks up from the screen as Scott enters the room; he watches as the boy notices the open window and then turns to look at him.

“What are you doing with that?” Scott asks when he notices the laptop now sitting on his lap.  Derek smiles wolfishly at him.

“You know,” he smirks at the boy, “I think even your mom would find your porn on here when you’ve ‘hidden’ it in a folder called,” he makes air quotes as he says, “‘Private Special Stuff’.”  He can smell the fear and confusion coming of the young beta, but under that fear there is just a hint of something else.

 

“I was sceptical of Stiles’s theory, of Gerard having cursed you,” Derek continues when Scott just stands there, “But he knew about this,” he says pointing at the laptop with the screen open on the folder of porn.

Didn’t he?” he shouts, making Scott jump before he carries on talking, “So, his suggestion that Gerard cursed you so that you would lose control of your wolf and go feral giving the hunters a reason to put you down, it all fits.  You were most feral after your first change; so that’s what happened, your first change all over again.  Only this time your wolf had new information to go on, the dates on these files are all after your first full moon, so I don’t think Gerard’s curse on you worked as he intended.”

“I… I’m not… I’m going to deal with the full moon on my own,” Scott stammers out, less than convincing.

“Don’t worry I heard what you said with your mom, and the pack will stay out of your way.  But I warn you now, the next week and a half aren’t going to be easy for you, you really should have listened and learned what you are.  And come the full moon, when you’ve suffered as much as you can without the pack and you finally stop fighting your instincts and come crawling back.  Well, now I know how you need to be treated Scotty, and as your alpha I’ll be good to you and see to your needs.”

Scott flinches as Derek walks past him towards the window, making Derek pull his hand back to his side rather than caress the boy’s cheek as he had intended.

 

“Oh,” he calls as he sits astride the window frame, “I really liked the naked boy with the black hair on all fours with the collar and leash,” he smirks, “he reminded me of you.”

 

 

Chapter Text

 

 

[Scott>Stiles: did u tell Derek my username and password for laptop?]

Stiles sat on his bed staring at his phone as if looking at something incomprehensible.  Why would he tell Derek what Scott’s username and password for his laptop was?

[Stiles>Scott: No!]

Why was Scott even asking?

[Stiles>Scott: Why?]

He doesn’t even know what Scott’s new username and password is…

[Stiles>Scott: Wait! U did change them after I had to tell Peter didn’t U?]

[Stiles>Scott: I told U to change them dude]

But if Scott’s asking then he can’t have changed them, but even then Stiles hasn’t told Derek that Scott had ‘allison’ as his username and his password on like everything…  And again, if he’s asking then Derek must know and must have been looking at Scott’s laptop, and that can only mean one thing.  Derek has found out Scott’s not so little not so secret out.

[Stiles>Scott: what did Derek do?]

There’s a pause of several minutes before Stiles receives a reply.

[Scott>Stiles: he was using my computer in my room, dk what 4]

 

“Oh my GOD!  How dumb does he think I am?” Stiles says aloud to his empty bedroom, “He had to be in your bedroom for some reason.”

[Stiles>Scott: what was he doing in your *bed* room Scott?]

The reply comes fairly rapidly.

[Scott>Stiles: NO!  he was just on my computer!]

Now Stiles begins to wonder if Derek suspects what Stiles suspects, well actually knows despite Scott not admitting to it, about Scott.

[Stiles>Scott: Looking at?]

[Scott>Stiles: IDK]

No way does Stiles believe this.

[Stiles>Scott: *Looking at?*]

[Scott>Stiles: stuff I’d saved]

“Really Scott?  I wonder what that could be… hmm?” he says to himself, he knows his best friend too well.

[Stiles>Scott: Of?]

[Scott>Stiles: pics and video]

Stiles is not letting this go.  The first step in helping Scott with the situation he’s in is to get him to admit his kinks to himself.  So he pushes.

[Stiles>Scott: Of?]

[Scott>Stiles: stuff]

[Stiles>Scott: raindrops on roses and whiskers on kittens?]

[Scott>Stiles: what?]

[Stiles>Scott: tell me]

[Scott>Stiles: Porn, ok]

[Stiles>Scott: Lucky we deleted the stuff you didn’t know how it got there]

[Stiles>Scott: who knows what he would have thought]

 

The silence from Scott’s end tells him he was right.  It was the same kind of material that he deleted previously.  Scott swore he didn’t know how it got on his computer, but his browser and search history told a different story.  Scott kept denying knowing anything about how it got there, but Stiles knew he was right.

[Stiles>Scott: WTF?!]

[Stiles>Scott: I knew I was right]

[Stiles>Scott: You downloaded that stuff again, after I helped delete it!]

[Stiles>Scott: Why would you do that?!]

“Huh?  Well, Scotty, if you weren’t into that stuff explain that!” he says to the empty room, again.

[Scott>Stiles: I didn’t]

[Stiles>Scott: ?]

[Scott>Stiles: I didn’t]

[Scott>Stiles: there were copies of some of them]

[Stiles>Scott: the ones you *really* liked!]

[Scott>Stiles: please, I didn’t look at this b4]

 

As he reads Scott’s text, Stiles wishes he had called instead of just texting in reply.  He worries now that he pushed his friend too much; he just wants him to accept himself, and not hate what he has become.  The more he looks into reversing the curse the more unlikely success seems.

He quickly calls Scott on speed dial.  It rings and rings before going to voicemail.

“Scott, call me back buddy,” he says after the beep.

He paces around his room waiting on Scott calling back, biting at his thumbnail.  Waiting.  He’s not very good at waiting and has soon left several other, increasingly worried texts and voicemail messages.

 


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Melissa leans back in the bath and thinks back over the day’s events.  It has been one almighty shock when Scott finally told her what was actually going on with him, and then at the hospital seeing the proof in the test results.  Could the supernatural world throw any more surprises at her?

She had sat at the kitchen table since she returned from the hospital and cried; the worry and fear that had been building since her… conversation with Deaton and Derek after Scott had ran having finally overtaken her.  A conversation that started with heated recriminations.

“You should have been forceful with him,” Deaton scowled at Derek, “As an intersex beta he needs a strong alpha, a pack that he knows will be capable of…”

“What he needs is to stop fighting his nature and accept that his werewolf instincts are his own,” Derek cut the man off, “That is not something I can force him to do, and…” he paused to emphasis each following word, “ I.  Will.  Not.  Force.  Him.”  Looking squarely at Deaton he concluded, “As much as I want him in my pack, it has to be his choice, he has to ask to be claimed.”

“Glad to hear it,” she responded, “Because if anyone tried to force my son to do something he didn’t want I wouldn’t hesitate to ask Chris Argent for some bullets and a gun; believe me.”

“As noble as both the sentiments are,” Deaton said, catching both her and Derek’s attention, “During Scott’s heat he will be very… needy of physical contact; especially when he has not bonded with a pack.  That will make him susceptible to the undue influence of… others; such as another alpha or pack being able to force a bond on him during his heat, or…”

Derek’s growl stopped Deaton from saying anything more.

 

The heart to heart she had with Scott when he arrived home had been something of a revelation; maybe for the both of them.  She knew that the changes he had been going through were tough on him, and they weren’t of his choosing; either the being bitten and becoming a werewolf or this new change of being intersex, caused by the curse placed on him by Gerard Argent.  But when she had found out about him being a werewolf he seemed so strong and had been dealing with the changes brought about by the bite, and the hunters, the crazy alpha werewolf, the lizard creature that the Whittemore boy had become…  She assumed he was dealing with this latest change in a similar manner; fighting through it until a solution was found.  She was wrong.

She had thought he knew that he could count on her, and that she loved him, no matter what changes he had been going through.  She was wrong about that too.

When he said “You think I’m a freak and a monster…?”  The words broke her heart; that her son thought she felt that way about him told her just how much she was failing him.  She is his mother and she should make sure he knows that she loves him and supports him.  She hopes he knows this now.

 

Her fear of what he will go through on the full moon is somewhat alleviated by his promise to call Derek if… things become too much for him to deal with alone.  While Deaton and Derek didn’t agree on much during the argument she witnessed they did agree on one thing; that Scott needed to be part of a pack to help him through the nights of the full moon.  She just hopes he reads the leaflets she picked up on contraception and vaginal health.  If there is no way to reverse the effects of the curse, and everything Deaton and Derek say suggests there isn’t – despite Stiles still looking – and especially not before the full moon, then he is going to need to learn about them.  And he’s going to need to know enough to choose which contraceptive he’s going to use.

 


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Jackson has been on edge since Derek’s text to the pack telling them to stay clear of Scott; that he had decided he didn’t want to interact with them and would be taking care of himself.

 

He barely held in the whine that built in his throat as he read the message.  The thought of not breathing in that sweet scent physically hurt him.  It made him wonder if he had done something to cause Scott to make that choice and his wolf wanted to howl in despair.

Without thinking he quickly called Scott, and the call went straight to voicemail.

“Scott, Derek told us you want to stay away from the pack, and…” he worries at his bottom lip as he leaves the message, feeling unsure of himself and if Scott would even want to hear from him, “I mean… look, I hope… I hope I didn’t do anything to make you decide that.  I thought we were having a good time and that you wanted to… to do what we did together.  If I… if I did something I shouldn’t have… I’m sorry.”  He quickly hangs up, his heart racing and his hands clammy at the thoughts running around his head.

 

When there’s no call and no message in reply about an hour later he calls again, the message he leaves is shorter, but the sentiment the same.

“Scott, I’m really sorry; I just wish I knew what I did.”

 

Fifteen minutes later he texts the same message.  The worry that he did something to make Scott want to avoid the pack gnawing at him, and his wolf’s growing distress.  He texts again, then flops back on his bed staring at his ceiling.

 

His phone beeps and he jolts up and quickly reads the message.

[Scott>Jackson: You didn’t do anything wrong.  I just need to deal with this on my own.]

He feels the weight lift with the first words, and then the worry settles over him again as he reads the next line.  From everything Derek and Stiles have said his heat isn’t something that Scott can deal with on his own; he will need the pack.

 

He considers how to reply, and decides he has to support Scott’s decision; even though he doesn’t agree with it.

[Jackson>Scott: As long as you are ok.  Keep safe]

He also knows he needs to find some way to help Scott through it.

 


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Stiles flails at the sound of his window opening and promptly falls off his bed, landing in a tangle of limbs looking up at Derek Hale scowling down at him.

“You could have hurt yourself,” the alpha says, stating the obvious.  He holds a hand out for Stiles to grab as he continues, “I’ve told the pack to stay clear of Scott until he changes his mind about interacting with us.”

“He’s making a mistake,” Stiles huffs, the worry he feels leaking out of him, “And he hasn’t replied to any of my calls or texts for the past hour… something could have happened to him… there could be hunters…”

“There's no one in the city Stiles.  Ever since Gerard’s death the hunter situation has been quiet in Beacon Hills.  There’s no one outside the pack, Deaton, or Scott’s mom that knows what he is, so he will be safe until his heat hits him,” Derek pulls him into a hug, which he readily relaxes into, running his hands over the werewolf’s strong back; it is over his shirt, unfortunately, but Stiles is taking what he can get.

 

“So, you knew about Scott’s porn collection,” Derek startles him by suddenly not exactly asking, “That’s why you were so certain that he had been cursed to go through his first change again; you knew about those pictures and videos, and with what they are his first change would allow for him to transform into a male bitch...”

“Intersex beta,” Stiles interrupts, “And why did you break into Scott’s house and hack his computer?”

“I didn’t break in, the window was open,” Derek smirks at him, “And I didn’t hack his computer, I used his username and password.  But why didn’t you tell me?  Don’t you think it’s important for me to know this if I’m going to help Scott accept what’s happened?”

“I didn’t tell you because it was Scott’s secret to tell.  And how could I tell anyone when it was something that he isn’t even admitting to himself that it is something he likes, never mind telling me that he likes it; and we tell each other everything, or we used to.  He kept saying that it wasn’t him, it was the wolf; that he only started looking at it since he was bitten.  So you can’t go being all forceful alpha and make him accept it; that’s not the way to handle this Derek!”

“Deaton says male bit… intersex betas need a strong forceful alpha; that they respond better to being dominated.  Does anything you’ve read in the bestiary say differently?”  Taking Stiles’s silence as confirmation that he can’t contradict what Deaton’s told him, Derek continues, “Becoming a werewolf doesn’t really change you; it might bring some of your hidden traits to the surface, but it doesn’t change who you are,” Derek frowns as he replies, sitting down on Stiles’s bed, “But it’s unusual for even hidden traits not to be picked up on and affect the change.  I suppose given how much Scott fought his instincts and denied the wolf as being him may have caused them to remain suppressed until after his first change…”

 

Stiles can tell that Derek isn’t entirely convinced of what he’s saying, but he said it was ‘unusual’ for hidden traits to not be picked up, not that it didn’t ever happen; so to him it makes sense that it’s what’s happened with Scott.

“Maybe we should check with Deaton,” he suggests to the alpha.

Before Derek can reply Stiles’s phone rings.

 

“Scott!  Where are you?  Are you hurt?  Is it hunters?  What’s happening man?” the questions fire out as soon as Stiles answers.

“What?  No,I’m in my bedroom, there’s no hunters and I’m not hurt,” Scott replies

“Then where the hell have you been?” he asks trying to reign in his worry-induced panic, “And why weren’t you answering my calls or…”

“I was having dinner with my mom, and I left my phone up in my room,” Scott replies, cutting him off, “I didn’t get Jackson’s calls or text either until just now.”

“Jackson called you?” he asks, wondering why Jackson wasn’t obeying Derek’s order to stay away; he looks over to see the alpha’s eyebrows raised in surprise.

“Yeah,” Stiles hears the cautious tone in Scott’s voice as he replies.

“What did he call for?” he asks; fishing for more details as he knows Derek is now listening in.

“He was just checking I was okay, and that he didn’t do anything to make me… decide to stay away from the pack.”

“Uh-huh,” Stiles responds as he mulls over the answer; he can see that Derek seems to have drawn a conclusion.

“I’m feeling kinda beat…”

“About earlier, and Derek finding your…”

“It’s not… There’s nothing I can do about that… just another reason for me to avoid him and the pack.”

“Scott…” Stiles starts to say, glad that at least now his friend isn’t denying he downloaded the porn.

“I’m kinda beat, are we still on for tomorrow’s CoD and GoW marathon?” Scott asks out of nowhere taking Stiles by surprise.

“Yeah, sure, looking forward to beating your ass again,” he laughs.

“Okay, ‘nite.”

“Wait, I’m emailing you the section of the bestiary that covers… well, you, make sure you read it okay?” Stiles quickly says, turning to his computer and holding the phone between his shoulder and his ear as he attaches the document to an email and sends it to Scott.

“Sure, see ya tomorrow, buddy.”

 

Scott hangs up before Stiles can reply, leaving him looking at his phone slightly confused by Scott’s rush to end the call.  When he tears his gaze away from his phone and back across to the alpha lying back on his bed he forgets about being confused by his best friend’s abruptness.

“So, mate,” he grins at Derek, “Jackson checking up on Scott; spill.”

“From Jackson’s reaction I’d say that Scott was his mate,” Derek replies with a shrug of his shoulders.

“But, Scott’s a guy and Jackson’s straight?!”

“Scott identifies as male, but he’s a bi… he’s intersex,” he amends at Stiles narrowing of his eyebrows, “His biological sex and gender identity is a lot more complicated than it was a few weeks ago.  And I think Jackson should define his own sexuality.”

“He’d say he’s straight and probably thinks he’s everybody’s type,” Stiles sees the smirk flit across Derek’s lips, even though the alpha ducks his head and tries to hide it, and he can’t hide the pleased smile that it brings to his own.

“Probably, but that doesn't mean it's the truth,” Derek agrees when he looks back up, “But I think Scott’s change from a binary gender and the change in his scent is enough for Jackson and his wolf; even assuming he is straight.”

“Probably,” Stiles grins, before his face takes on a more serious look; one that is quickly mirrored on Derek.  “You know,” Stiles says as he pushes himself off his desk and steps towards Derek, “I think we’ve talked more about Jackson and Scott being mates that we have about us.”

“What?” Derek monosyllabic replies, his brow creasing in confusion.

“I mean,” Stiles suddenly let’s all his fears spill between them, “I know you said we are mates, like soul bound life mates, but after that we haven’t even like kissed, and I know you said you wanted to wait until I was legal, but you’ve already had sex with Scott, twice, and I mean look at me, why would I be your mate…”

His words are silenced as Derek grabs him by the arms and pulls him towards him, taking his lips in their first kiss.

 

“Of course you’re my mate,” Derek breathes against his lips as they pull slightly apart, “But you’re young and human, and I don’t want to bind you to me until you are sure…” Stiles tries to tell him that he is sure, but Derek brushes two fingers against his lips to silence him, “I need you to be one hundred percent sure.  At your age I thought I was sure, it didn’t work out so well.  I want you to wait until you’re old enough to consent.”

“Then why Scott,” Stiles tries not to whine in frustration at still being cock-blocked, “I know you said he needs… the intimate contact and he’s a werewolf, but…”

“The only reason I have done… anything with Scott is the pheromones he’s releasing when he gets aroused.  I thought I’d have more control, but I guess because he was bitten by Peter he’s more attuned to Hale pack werewolves, and I haven’t…”

“Been able to resist… seriously, Scott’s sex-pollen made you do it?”

“Yes,” Derek growls out, ducking his head to Stiles’s shoulder.  Stiles suddenly realises just how embarrassed the alpha is that he wasn’t able to stop himself sexing-up Scott.  “But it’s more his pheromones influence and then my instincts took over, telling me to give the bi… intersex beta what they needed; to be the alpha they needed so they would want to be claimed by me.”  Derek lifts his head, but still can’t quite look Stiles in the eye.

“Oh my god,” Stiles loudly whispers.

“You’ve read the what the bestiary says about intersex betas, tell me you understand,” the alpha pleads with him.

“Yes, yes,” Stiles quickly assures him, “I get it now, but you know…” he drops his voice and draws out the ‘know’, “I think the least you could do for not explaining earlier would be to spend the night making out with me.”

“I should go before your father, the sheriff, gets home and finds me in his under-aged son’s bedroom.”

“You’re a werewolf, you’ll hear when he gets home; besides he’s working the whole night and won’t be home until morning.”  He can see the wheels turning in Derek’s brain; see him warring with himself over giving.

 

Derek thinks this is a bad idea.  He isn’t sure he can trust himself to hold back, his desire to be with his mate and claim them has been growing stronger; especially with Scott and the possibility of them having a concubine to bear them pups. But…

“Fine, but clothes stay on, we stay on top of the bedcovers, and hands stay above the waist,” he finally says.

Stiles smiles as he wraps his arms around Derek’s neck and pulls him into a full open mouthed kiss.

 


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“Oh come on!” Stiles cries out as he allows himself to fall onto the side of Scott’s bed to sit, “Aren’t you up yet?”

“No,” Scott groans as his head pokes out from under the blankets and gazes at the clock.

“So you haven’t looked at the email I sent, I even created a cliff notes version of the bestiary entry especially for you,” he complains.

“No, not yet,” Scott says as he sniffs the air, “Is Derek here too?”

“No,” Stiles replies, “But I have been spending time with him and at his loft, and with the pack, so maybe… it’s me?”

Scott leans in close to his neck and strongly inhales his scent.

“It is you!” he shouts, “Why are you spending so much time a Derek’s that you smell like him?”

“Well, I did start spending time at his loft and with his pack because I was trying to figure out what was happening to you, and then I was spending time there to find if there was a way to undo it, and he is the alpha of his pack and the only born werewolf we know that could have information – excluding uncle zombie wolf – so I was spending more time with him because I wanted to find out how to keep you safe and protect you when we knew we couldn’t undo the changes.”  Stiles emphasises the words he wants Scott to focus on.  He really doesn’t want to lie to Scott, he’s his bro, but right now he knows Scott isn’t going to take it well if he tells him that he’s Derek’s mate; given how he feels about Derek and the pack right now.

“Oh,” Scott mumbles.

“You read the stuff I emailed you,” he says rising off Scott’s bed, “While I go use your shower and get me smelling more like you, okay?”

“Thanks Stiles,” Scott smiles like a happy puppy at him.

 

Stiles is coming out of the bathroom with his hair still damp as Scott walks back into the room.

“So,” Stiles says, holding his arms out on either side, “Do I pass the sniff test?”

“Doofus,” Scott grins at him and pulls him into a hug; Stiles arms relax around his friend and hold on to him.  His arms slide up and down Scott’s back as his friend holds him tightly and nuzzles at his neck.

“Erm, Scotty,” Stiles says, his voice breathy and low.  He’s beginning to realise exactly what Derek meant when he said how difficult he found it to resist Scott’s pheromones.  “We should probably check the email I sent you now, ‘cause not so little Stiles is taking an interest and I’m not sure that’s what you want right now…”

“Hmm,” Scott dreamily hums as he continues to hold Stiles tightly, before he suddenly jumps back from him.

“What?  What just happened?” Scott asks, the confusion and shock written in the expression on his face.

“Read the email, then I’ll explain,” Stiles says as he sits on the edge of the bed. 

 

Scott sits on the chair opposite and with little enthusiasm, Stiles has to insist more than once that he needs to read the email before he can explain, he opens up his laptop to read the email.

 

Chapter Text

Stiles saw the look of horror that grew in Scott’s eyes the more he read the email and notes he’d sent him; a horror that was matched with confusion.

“You’re looking confused, Scotty,” he says from where he’s perched on Scott’s bed.

“I…” Scott starts and then Stiles sees the anger rise up, “So you were right, I might as well be a sex-bot, to any pack I’m nothing more than a sex toy to fuck and breed, and I’m pumping out pheromones that make everyone just want to have sex with me and…”

“It’s not that simple,” Stiles tries to diffuse Scott’s mounting scandalized fury mid rant, and tried to explain the connection between Scott’s emotions and the pheromones he emitted. That unless he was claimed by the alpha of a pack Scott could affect almost anyone. That he would have an important role in the pack as surrogate and as a mediator through being more intimate with the pack…

Sex, I’m supposed to create peace in a pack by fucking them?!” Scott screams at him.

No!” Stiles shouts back, “I said ‘intimate touching’; that doesn’t mean you have to have sex with all of the pack, it could be a caress, a kiss, or an embrace. And I said it’s one of the ways, because also your pheromones could calm everybody if you remained calm and thought calming thoughts, or you could start an orgy if you wanted. Basically, a werewolf like you can have a lot of control over the pack that they allow to claim them. They help the alpha stabilise the pack and keep the peace within the pack.”

“Allow to claim them?”

“You’d have to ask the alpha to claim you, and then they would have to bite you while you were…”

“Were what?”

“If it was during your heat then the alpha would have to be tied to you, and by that I mean their knot in your pussy, and filling you with their jizz. If it wasn’t during your heat, it would be the same, only… it would be in a binding circle and the rest of the pack would need to be present.”

Scott just stares at him, mouth open and a look Stiles can’t discern if it’s disgust or desire.

“Scotty?” he asks, unable to keep the worry from his voice, “Bro, you okay?”

“Just as well I’m not gonna be with the pack then,” Scott softly replies.

“Dude,” Stiles stresses, “If a heat is severe enough and you don’t have a pack to help you through it, it can cause you to overheat and major organs to stop working. It can kill you. Why would you…”

“Stiles, I need to do this on my own. I need to take make my own decisions; I’m not going to be someone’s slave!” even with the determined tone that Scott says the words, Stiles sees the doubt in his eyes; and he knows what was in Scott’s porn collection.

“Are you sure that’s what you want?” he asks.

“Yes,” Scott’s answer is less than convincing.


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Every time Stiles tries to steer their conversation back to the bestiary and Scott’s impending heat, and how very bad an idea it is that Scott deals with it on his own, Scott changes the subject.

Stiles can hardly concentrate on the game their playing on Scott’s XBOX; they’re using the TV in the living room as Scott’s mom is at work. He half considers telling him that ‘you have to let Derek claim you and be part of his pack because I’m his mate and we’d all be in the same pack, and the thought of my best friend being some omega bitch boy for any passing werewolf or being claimed by some other pack is close to giving me a panic attack’. But he stops himself; he knows that will just make things worse given how set against having anything to do with Derek and the pack he is right now.

They’re sitting down to some left over pizza when he decides to try and appeal to Scott’s sense of self-preservation, assuming he has one, again.

“Look, Scott, when your… when the full moon comes around…”

“Stiles, don’t worry,” Scott interrupts him, “I’ve already promised my mom that I’ll go to Derek if it’s more than I can deal with.”

“You have?” he asks around a mouthful of pepperoni and extra cheese.

“Yes,” Scott sheepishly smiles at him.

Stiles feels the weight on his shoulders lighten. Maybe things aren’t going to be as bad as he was imagining; just maybe Scott realises he needs the support of the pack to get through this and this is his way out of corner he backed himself into.

Stiles glances away from the game they are playing when he hears the front door open and sees Scott’s mom walking.

“Hi Mama McCall,” he calls to her before returning his attention to the game.

“Stiles,” she says acknowledging his greeting before turning to Scott, “So, ready to go?” she asks.

“Go? Go where?” Stiles asks, the game forgotten.

“You, home,” she replies to Stiles, “Scott has an appointment to keep.”

“Do I have to?” Scott whines. Which only intrigues Stiles more.

“Scott McCall you promised me!” she sharply retorts, “Now get your butt out the door and in the car; we are going to Deaton’s and you are finding out which form of birth control will work for your werewolf biology!”

Stiles looks from Scott to his mom and back again; trying to decide which one to ask.

“Can I come?” he finally asks Mrs Mcall.

“What?! No!” Scott screeches, “It’s embarrassing enough!”

“It’s something I should know about so…” Stiles starts to retort.

“You’re not a werewolf, and not female,” Scott replies, and quickly adds, “And not… like me either.”

“But I could add the info to the bestiary, now that I’ve got the copy of the Hale bestiary, and a copy of the Argent one, I’m cross-referencing and updating the information,” Stiles smiles at his friend, “I mean, I could always ask you detailed questions later.”

“Fine, come. I’d rather just be embarrassed once,” Scott concedes

“So,” Stiles leans forward from the back seat, placing his head between Mrs McCall and Scott as she drives them to Deaton’s, “What type of contraceptive are you considering? Contraceptive implant, IUS, IUD, pill, cap…”

“What? I don’t know,” Scott sulks.

“Well which ones have you read up on, you have researched some right?”

“No…”

“I gave you those leaflets for a reason Scott,” his mom states, taking her eyes off the road briefly as she looks at her son, “Please tell me you at least read over them…”

“A little,” Scott replies, but the upward lilt in his voice is telling enough for both Stiles and Scott’s mom.

Stiles sits back in the seat thinking that maybe his friend isn’t taking his situation as seriously as he needs to.

“Well, at least pay attention when we talk to Deaton,” Scott’s mom continues, “You need to what’s going to be best for you so you can choose which type to use.”

The rest of the journey is quiet.


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After chastising Scott for not reading the leaflets she’d given him Melissa was silent for the rest of the drive to Deaton’s; her concentration switching between the road and the thoughts turning over in her head.

She knows this has to be difficult for Scott to deal with. Hell, it’s difficult for her too, but it’s not like it’s actually happening to her; not directly. But it is happening to her son, and he has to be confused and shocked and terrified. A change like this needs time to be able to come to terms with. She has seen patients go through the emotional turmoil after castration and penectomy surgery; it takes months of counselling before and after the surgery to even begin to deal with. And they knew it needed to happen as part of their treatment.

So how is her son supposed to deal with not only that, but also in gaining fulling functioning ovaries and a uterus, all happening unexpectedly through magic in such a short time? It’s difficult for her; it must be impossible for Scott.

Unfortunately, he only has a short time to come to terms with it; all thanks to the supernatural world and him being a werewolf he doesn’t have time. She has to find some way of helping him come to terms with something she barely understands… no something she doesn’t understand, not when she only has half – if that – of the information… and she really doesn’t know how to help him other than to be there for him.

When they arrive at Deaton’s there is a client leaving and they are shown through to the examination room.

“I’ve checked with some colleagues who also provide medical services to werewolf packs local to them,” Deaton states as he is starting up a laptop and explaining the options to Scott, “And they have provided some details on contraception methods used by female werewolves in those packs. They are based on available human medication and implants, but to cope with werewolf metabolism and healing they are modified. There is a variation of the contraceptive pill that you would need to take every day, there are also subdermal implants that work for around three years, and intrauterine devices that can work for five or ten years.”

Melissa watches as Scott’s eyes widen as Deaton explains the fitting and potential side effects of each option.

“Why would any woman go through that?” Scott frantically asks, “There has to be some way that doesn’t have a risk of these side effect, right?” he asks naively.

“Yeah,” Stiles says, “Abstinence, but that isn’t really an option for you with your pheromones…”

“Stiles,” Melissa sharply stops him saying any more, “He’s planning on trying to… wait, what pheromones?” she asks looking between Stiles and Deaton; she knows what pheromones are, but no one has mentioned them having anything to do with the events of the full moon.

“It’s part of what sets an intersex werewolf’s position as a mediator within a pack,” Deaton explains to her, “They have the ability to affect the mood of those around them; this happens through the release of pheromones…”

“Like the ones he’ll be sending out on the full moon…” Stiles adds.

“Stiles,” Scott whines.

“Yes,” Deaton continues, and Melissa looks between Deaton and Stiles in shock, “But also pheromones that can calm aggression in his pack and diffuse potentially violent situations, which leads to their role as mediator.”

“And until claimed by an alpha for their pack the sexy time broadcasting will attract and affect any…” Stiles continues.

“So,” she interrupts him, “What you’re saying is…”

“Scott’s milkshake will bring all the boys, werewolves, wolves, and dogs to the yard,” Stiles helpfully explains; in detail that Melissa would rather not have had.

“Seriously Stiles?!” Scott screeches, “What the f…” she sees the moment he remembers she’s here and continues, “Fudge. Actual wolves and dogs? That can’t be…”

“Did you not read the whole of the bestiary section I sent?” Stiles asks, “There are cases of omega pack… intersex werewolves being so consumed by their heat that they have been found with… not werewolves… or humans…” Melissa is thankful when he trails off looking almost as uncomfortable as she feels.

“Yes, but such occurrences are rare, and have only been with omega werewolves. If we can get back to the discussion at hand,” Deaton attempts to steer everyone’s thoughts back to birth control.

“Scott,” she sharply intones, while pointedly not looking at any one, “I am taking this moment to remind you of your second promise; if this full moon starts to prove difficult you will contact Derek Hale immediately, right?”

“Yes,” he swiftly replies; and she is extremely grateful.

They return to talking through the options, and she is glad that Scott actively participates in the discussion, pointing out what he doesn’t want and taking on board the fact that they know he will forget to take a pill every day; he was always forgetting or losing his inhaler. He finally decides on an intrauterine device.

“Fine, I’ll get in touch with my colleagues and should have the werewolf modified IUD in a few days,” Deaton says, “We’ll want to have it fitted at least a week before the full moon.”

“Doc, that’s only a week and half away,” Stiles reminds them.

Melissa didn’t want think about what her son would be going through in ten days.

“It should arrive before Scott’s next work shift here at the clinic, so I can have everything arranged to perform the procedure then.”

“That’s three days away,” Scott states.

“Fine; that’s settled,” Melissa says with some relief, then sighs, “I think I need a stiff drink and bath, so let’s head home. We can pick up dinner on the way.”

“Oh, we can go to the diner on fourth, they have the best curly fries,” Stiles excitedly exclaims. She scowls at him, and then says “Fine.”

“See you on Friday, Scott,” Deaton calls after them as they head out of the door.


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Jackson sneaks in through Scott’s bedroom window. He can hear him in his bathroom, and hopes the steam from the shower will hide his presence; he plans to leave the gifts he brought and leave before Scott sees him.

He was at Derek’s when Stiles texted his alpha to say that Scott was going to see Deaton and he was going with him. Derek never said what was wrong with Scott that he was going to see Deaton, he doesn’t know if the text said. Derek just reiterated that Scott doesn’t want to have anything to do with the pack and that they are all to stay away unless he asks. He feels the ache in his chest at the thought of having to keep away from Scott, of not being there to help him. It’s why he brought these over for him; hoping they will help. He places the bag on the bed and then turns back towards the window; before he is able to get back outside the door to the bathroom opens and he ducks into the shadows in the corner of Scott’s room.

He watches as Scott stands in the doorway with just the towel wrapped around his waist, his hair damp and small rivulets of water clinging to his hairless chest. He knows the instance Scott has picked up on his scent.

“Scott,” he says taking a half-step out of the shadows towards him, “I know I shouldn’t be here and that you want to stay away from me,” he quickly covers the slip with, ”From the pack, but I wanted to make sure you’re okay. I heard Stiles telling Derek that you were going to see Deaton; is everything okay?”

“Yeah, it was nothing,” Scott replies, but Jackson can tell that it was more than nothing from his scent and the look in his eyes.

“Scott,” he softly replies, “You know you can talk to me about this right?”

“It was for him to talk to me and my mom about birth control,” he says in a rush, and Jackson can tell he’s embarrassed about it.

“Oh.”

“I just didn’t want to talk about it. It’s weird for me; the fact that I have these… female parts, and can get pregnant, now. Half a week isn’t enough time to get used to it. Everybody keeps going on like I just need to accept it and get on with life, and I know I’m going to have a heat soon, so I kinda do have to just get on with it, but it isn’t so easy. I don’t know if I’ll ever get used to it. Being with you, or with Derek, makes me forget that last week I didn’t have these parts, you make it seem normal for me to be like this and…”

“Isn’t that a good thing?” Jackson asks, “I don’t think there is anything abnormal about you…”

“I… I just don’t know.”

“Anyway,” Jackson says looking to the floor before pointing to the bag sitting on the bed, “I thought I’d bring you those, I figured you might want something to help, if you’re going to get through the full moon on your own.”

Jackson catches the change in Scott’s scent when he looks in the bag; the first gift he pulls out is the vibrator that he fucked Scott with the night they spent together. The blush blossoms on Scott’s skin and his scent turns rich, sweet, and warm.

“Good to know I have that effect on you,” Jackson smiles at causing the boys arousal.

He can’t contain a smirk at the look on Scott’s face as he pulls out the other toy. The roughly nine inches of thick red silicone with the black suction base. He bought one of the companies ‘adoptions’ and was lucky it arrived so soon given they don’t do expedited delivery.

“It’s called ‘David the Werewolf’, it’s marketed as being modelled on a werewolf’s erect cock,” at the shock and worry Scott suddenly shows he quickly adds, “Not seriously, the company that makes them is joking, we might have a knot like they have on the toy, but you know my cock and Derek’s cock is nothing like that.”

“I…”

“Like I said, I thought they might help,” Jackson can stop himself from stepping closer to him, his hand coming up to grip at the back of Scott’s neck in comfort; though Jackson doesn’t know how much is to comfort Scott and how much is for his own, “But promise me, if they’re not enough call… well, call Derek; don’t try to head over to his place, stay here and call him to come to you.”

“I will.”

He allows himself to relax against Scott at his words, his hand on the back of Scott’s neck while the other rests against Scott’s back. He feels the warmth of Scott’s hands on his hips and closing his eyes he rests his forehead against Scott’s. The scent of the boy pulling at his instincts; every fibre of his being telling him to claim him and keep him safe.

“You can… you can even call me, if you want to,” he feels himself losing the battle; if he doesn’t leave now he might force himself on Scott and claim him as his mate as his instincts are telling him to. He can’t allow that to happen. Scott would never forgive him; he’d never forgive himself.

“I’ll always be there for you Scott. Stay safe,” he whispers, turning away from him, he leaps out of the window and runs to his Porsche. Never once looking back.


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Derek sits on Stiles’s bed. His mates bed. Where his mate sleeps, and his scent is strong. And making his wolf bristle. It – he – just wants to strip and roll around in the bed, mingling their scents until there isn’t the scent of Stiles and the scent of Derek; there’s just the scent of Stiles and Derek.

He has enough self-control not to, but not as much as he normally would have. Partly it’s down to the full moon. It may be over a week away, but as he knows there’s a pack bitch in his territory that he’s scented – twice – his self-control is being tested. It also doesn’t help that he can smell Scott’s scent lingering in this room. His mates room. Or that Scott is on his mind anyway; he’s the reason he’s here waiting on Stiles returning; so that he can find out how he is and what happened at Deaton’s.

He hears Stiles enter the house and climb the stairs. His nose wrinkles as he catches the scent of arousal and takes a deep breath; too late he realises that combined with his mate’s arousal is the scent of Scott’s pheromones as Stiles walks into the room.

“Derek!” Stiles excitedly exclaims as spots him sitting on the bed.

“I need to leave,” he says as he stands.

“What? Why?” the disappointment heavy in his voice, but even the sadness souring his scent doesn’t diminish the tang of sex pheromones filling Derek’s senses. Or the affect that his mate is drenched in them is having on him.

“You… you smell of Scott and his… I don’t want to…”

Derek doesn’t get the chance to finish as Stiles eyes widen and he launches himself at him; wrapping his arms around Derek’s neck and his legs around his waist, Stiles lips lock onto Derek’s and the alpha finds his arms wrapping around the teen as they fall back onto the bed. Stiles is straddling his waist, grinding against Derek’s turgid shaft trapped behind the rough denim of his jeans, their lips pressed hard together as he accepts Stiles’s demanding kiss.

“No, Stiles, we can’t,” Derek pants as he fights every instinct telling him he must; he doesn’t want force the mating claim on Stiles. He wants Stiles to be of age, to choose to mate with him.

“We can Derek,” Stiles huffs against his cheek, “Do you know how jealous I have been of Scott? How difficult it is knowing that I’m your mate and he has gotten to feel your hot hard body against him? I need to feel that wanted Derek, I need to know you want me.”

The desperate sound of his mate not knowing how much he meant to him, how much he wanted him broke the last resolve Derek had to fight against his instinct.

“I want you Stiles,” he growled out, “You are mine.”

Their clothes soon littered the bedroom floor and they writhed and rutted against each other’s sweat slicked naked bodies. Derek’s wolf was clamouring to claim his mate, and Derek wanted to, but he was fighting to retain some control. He knew there was a danger of him knotting, and neither of them had enough control to allow preparation for that to happen.

With Stiles lying on his back he leans over the teen and kisses him deeply, distracting him while he uses one hand to coat Stiles’s hard shaft with lube, and slick his own ass with his other hand. Straddling over his mate Derek lowers himself down on Stiles’s cock, Stiles mouth and eyes opening in surprise.

“Derek, fuck!” Stiles exclaims.

“That’s the intention Stiles,” Derek smirks down at him, his eyes flashing red as he bottoms out.

Derek rides his mate’s hard shaft, rising up until the crown is nearly slipping from his ass before sliding back down the on the thick seven inches of it. His own length hard and bouncing against Stiles’s abs as he leaks over the taut flesh. Stiles hands soon find their way around Derek’s cock and it’s all the encouragement his knot needs to swell. He can feel Stiles’s hips stutter as he pushes up against his ass, and his hands tightening their grip around his knot.

“Fuck, Derek,” Stiles wantonly gasps, “I want to feel this in me next time, promise me you’ll knot me next time.

The words push Derek over the edge and he buck s down hard on Stiles’s cock as he sprays his release, and in the same instant he feels Stiles arms wrap around him and his teeth bite into his neck; claiming him as his mate. Derek’s instincts win out and he reciprocates an answering claim on Stiles’s neck.

As they lay in each other’s arms with his wolf sated Derek’s head begins to clear and what just happened weighs on his mind.

“What have I done,” he whispers to his drowsing mate.

“I claimed my mate,” Stiles sleepily replies, snuggling into Derek’s side. But Derek isn’t sure that his mate fully understands the implications of what that means.

Chapter Text

 

 

Stiles is worried.  He can’t shake this nagging fear of rejection and abandonment.  The next minute he feels filled with love and… sadness.

 

Sitting up in bed he opens his eyes and looks across his bedroom to see Derek sitting at his computer desk, fully dressed and watching him with a melancholy smile twitching at his lips.

“What are you doing over there?” he asks his mate, the anticipation of rejection and the sadness he feels intensifying.  And he’s really expecting it, for Derek to reject him.  He knows he’s nothing more than one hundred and forty-seven pounds of pale skin and fragile bones and Derek is… the genetic zeitgeist.  It’s why he gave Derek a mating bite last night, or his close imitation of it; to show him that he took being his mate seriously.  With him being human it wouldn’t have the same effect as two werewolves marking each other.

“I figured I should get dressed and leave before your dad gets back from work,” Derek answers, drawing him from his thoughts, briefly.

“Hmm,” he hums in response as he falls back into his train of thought.  Derek bit him back.  So even though he’s human, Derek is mated to him for life.  He has no reason to fear rejection; so why does he still have this gnawing ache in the pit of his stomach?

“I should go,” Derek states, and Stiles feels the dejection and… it shouldn’t be, it can’t be; everything he’s read said that only two mated werewolves could form an empathic bond between them.

“Derek, wait!” he calls out.  Derek turns to look at him from where he’s sitting on the window sill, “You know I love you right?” he asks him, and feels the small glimmer of happiness, “And you know that I will never leave you.  You’re stuck with me for life; that’s why I gave you a mating bite.  Because we are mates; for life, and I will never leave you,” with each statement he feels the melancholy lift and then his elation turns to confusion as Derek’s face shows bewilderment; causing him to exclaim, “Oh my god, Derek, I’m feeling your emotions; I didn’t think that was possible?!”

“It shouldn’t be,” Derek says, his eyes wide in shock; Stiles assumes he’s realising that he can feel his emotions too, “Only two werewolves are supposed to be able to create that kind of bond, and even then it’s rare.”

“We need to talk to Deaton,” they both say at the same time.

 


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Stiles considered the options.

 

One.  He could tell Scott the truth; that he and Derek were mates, had claimed each other and now could feel each other’s emotions.  However, he was certain that Scott would stop listening at ‘mates’ and assume the worst.  He hates lying to his best friend, but as Scott doesn’t trust Derek he will stop trusting him too if he finds out just now.

Two.  He could tell Scott that the reason he smells so much of Derek is that he has been with Derek most of the night and morning.  Scott is probably the only werewolf that would not recognise the strong mix of their scents indicating a mated pair.  But, given that the empathic bond is something they are still getting used to the sudden shifts in his emotions is something he thinks Scott will pick up on, especially when his scent changes due to his – Derek’s – emotions.  And that’s bound to get him suspicious.

Three.  Tell Scott he’s been with Derek most of the night and morning over Skype.  He’ll be angry, but he’ll not know about them being mates.  Not yet.  He will have to tell him eventually, but hopefully that will be after he’s found a way to turn him back – which is looking increasingly unlikely – or once Scott has stopped fighting his instincts and realises he needs an alpha and a pack.

 

He sits in front of his computer and switches it on.

 

“’Sup bro?” Scott asks as he appears on the screen, “Shouldn’t you be heading over here for our continued gaming marathon?”

“About that,” Stiles tries to say casually.

“What?”

“Funny thing; you know how you’re concerned about how you start acting when you pick up Derek’s pack’s scent?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, I’ve still been around them…”

“Stiles?!  Why would you be anywhere near Derek’s pack?”

“I was talking to him about you, and about your upcoming heat, and seeing if there was anything you needed to know that we didn’t already know…” he says, not lying which has become like second nature around werewolves; he did talk to Derek this morning about Scott and his up-coming heat.

“Oh, why didn’t you just call him?”

“Why do you think he would answer when he saw it was me calling?”

“How would he know it was you?  He wouldn’t recognise your number.”

“Because he would know it was me calling when it showed my name and started playing the ringtone I programmed into his phone for me when I added myself to his contacts that time that I acquired his phone when you were pretending to be part of his pack and I thought you really were part of his pack only you were actually lying to Derek, me, and Gerard Argent who you were plotting against with Deaton and not telling any of your friends or werewolves that thought you were pack.”  Stiles is shocked by the resentment that increases in his voice as he goes from explaining to berating Scott.  He knew he wasn’t happy that his best friend lied to him, lied to Derek, lied to the pack, used Derek, and didn’t even ask about the bruising and cuts on his face, but he didn’t realise just how much anger he had been bottling up; assuming it is all just his anger.

“I’m sorry,” Scott says pleadingly, “I was trying to do the right thing, I swear, but I should have been a better friend.”

“Yeah,” he responds and clears his throat, he knows Scott was trying to do the right thing; he just wishes he hadn’t kept them in the dark, he’s sure they could have come up with a better plan, “Any way, I figured we would play on-line since I should stay clear of you too.”

 

And that’s what they do for the rest of the morning, Stiles mood getting more melancholy as the day wears on, before they finally take a break to allow each of them to get lunch.  Stiles makes himself a turkey, bacon, and mayo on rye, with some Summer Crisp lettuce and tomato; mostly it’s bacon.  He pours himself a glass of milk and carries the glass and plate with his sandwich back up to his room.  Though his shock at finding Derek sitting on his bed when he enters his room causes him to trip over his own feet; his lunch is saved only because Derek leaps from the bed and grabs hold of the glass and plate before they land on the floor.

“What are you doing here?” Stiles asks, “I thought you were spending time with the betas while I hung out with Scott?” 

“I could feel you getting distressed, and Scott’s not here,” Derek says raising his eyebrows in query.

“Okay, so I may have decided to hang out with him virtually, so as not to have to try and explain about us,” Stiles replies, though he doesn’t like the worried feeling and look from Derek, “It’s just I know he’s going to have issues and…”

“Wouldn’t it be better for him to have those issues now and deal with them before his heat?”

“I don’t want him to think I’m abandoning him for you and the pack.  He’s like my brother and I need him to know I’m there for him; he needs me to have his back, especially while he deals with this whole change he’s going through.  I just…”

“It’s fine Stiles,” Derek says pulling him into a hug, “I…”

“It’s not like I don’t want him to know, it’s just when he is so set on dealing with his heat on his own I don’t want him to think the reason I want him to properly join our pack is because I’m your mate; I need him to know it’s because I want him to be safe and…” Stiles words falter as he notices Derek smiling at him, his eyes crinkled in absolute joy, and Stiles starts smiling too as he feels the sheer bliss flood through him, “What?”

“You said ‘our pack’,” Derek says still smiling like he can’t stop, “That you want him to ‘properly join our pack’.”

“Well, it is…”

“Yes, yes, it is,” Derek replies, pulling him forward and devouring his mouth in sheer pleasure.

“I should let you eat, and get back to Scott,” Derek says when he finally pulls back.

“No, no you shouldn’t,” Stiles protests, “You should just keep kissing me.”

“I want to,” Derek’s breath ghosts over his cheek, and Stiles can feel he is still smiling, “But, I need to go train our betas, and you need to eat your lunch.  I’ll come back later,” the last said more as a question.

“Okay,” Stiles smiles at him as he replies.

 

After Derek left, Stiles quickly ate his sandwich and drank his milk before unlocking his laptop, the chat with Scott is still open and he watches as Scott drops his towel and stands naked with his back to him as he chooses which underwear to put on.

“Nice blue panties,” he calls out to him, “Those some of the ones that Jackson bought you?”  Stiles assumes they must be, and watches as Scott turns towards the sound of his voice and promptly trips himself up with his sweat pants and falls onto his bed.

“How… how long have you been watching me?” Scott asks.

“Since you dropped your towel and stood there deciding what underwear to put on.  Relax,” he adds as Scott stares shocked at the screen, eyes wide and mouth open, “It’s not like I haven’t already seen you naked.  I’m sure Jackson will be happy that you’re wearing the panties he bought you.  I’m just happy that you’re accepting your kinky self.”

“Stiles,” Scott whines, ducking his head and blushing.  Clearly not as accepting of his kinky self as Stiles was hoping.

“So, ready for me to whip your ass?” he asks; changing the subject back to their game.

“WHAT?!”

“At the game, Scott,” he rolls his eyes, “I’ll leave the spanking of your ass to Derek, unless…” he’s just teasing; Scott his like a brother to him, but… he can’t help the thoughts that come to mind…

“I… No,” Scott stammers over his answer.

“Just as well, given I’m at my house and we’ve got our CoD marathon to finish,” Stiles smirks in reply; trying to hide the confused hurt he feels at the rejection.  And the guilt of thinking of his best friend in such a sexual manner.

 

“Scott, dinner’s on the table,” Stiles hears Mrs McCall shout several hours later.

“I gotta go,” Scott says to him, “Promise me you won’t go to Derek’s and…”

“I promise I won’t go to Derek’s and that I’ll scrub myself clean tonight so we can continue our super awesome marathon gaming session tomorrow,” Stiles interrupts him, and it’s true he won’t go to Derek’s.  Scott’s smile beams at him.

“See you tomorrow, night Stiles.”

“Night Scott.”

 


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“Dude, I am so, so, sorry,” Stiles pleads over skype the next morning, and already he’s starting to feel like a douche, “I’d just finished showering and gotten back to my room and Derek was there, asking if I’d heard from you, and if you were okay.  He wasn’t here long, and I can still head over now if you want…”  Not really lying if you don’t count the fact that was last night and don’t count the time they were asleep.

“What was Derek doing in your room?”

“I just said, asking if you were okay.  I can take another shower and head over, or we can play the same as yesterday?”  And he’s not lying; but if he’s not lying why does it feel like he is.

“We should probably just skype and play on-line, just to be safe,” Scott answers, but Stiles sees the disappointment in his face and feels like a shit for letting him down.

 

They pass the day fighting behind enemy lines, but the banter between them seems far more subdued.  Eventually Scott’s mom calls him to dinner and Stiles signs off to go and make something for his dad.

 


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Stiles is lying on the couch with Derek at his loft watching ‘Captain America: The First Avenger’ with the pack; Erica curled around Boyd in one of the chairs, Jackson in the other chair, and Isaac sitting on the floor, beside his alpha and Stiles, with his head back against the couch.

With Scott at Deaton’s working Stiles had been pouring over the bestiary and some of the books from Deaton earlier; still trying to find some way to reverse Gerard’s curse, but he hadn’t found anything new.  It leaves him with the two options he has found, neither of which he believes will work; at least not in any way that Scott would necessarily be happy with the outcome.  He felt frazzled by the research and lack of progress, and Derek had insisted that he take a break; which lead to the pack watching Steve Rogers becoming Captain America and fighting the Nazis.

“I’m definitely a Stucky shipper,” Stiles says out of nowhere, “And I thought I’d be more into Stony; given I’m more of an Iron Man fan.”

“Oh no, I can definitely get down with Stucky,” Erica adds, as the rest of the pack look at them like they are talking another language.

Before they can explain Stiles’s phone rings with the ringtone he programmed for Scott.

 

“Shit, shit, shit,” Stiles shouts after he finishes his call with Scott, “I need to use your shower,” he says to Derek and he darts off up the stairs towards Derek’s bedroom.

“What?  Why?” Derek calls after him.

“Because Scott’s getting the IUD fitted and needs me to pick him up after Deaton’s to drive him home and stay with him until his mom gets home.  I’m supposed to be staying away from you and the pack, so I can’t turn up smelling like I dived into a vat of au d’Hale Pack…”

“I’ll go,” Jackson quickly offers.

“No,” Stiles retorts, “He knows you’re pack, why would you be there when you’re all to stay away from him?”  Stiles disappears inside Derek’s room and ignores the dejected look on Jackson’s face as he slumps back in the chair.

 

Half an hour later he emerges from Derek’s room dressed in the same clothes.

“My jeeps back at my house, and I’m going to need to change; these are bound to smell of the pack,” he says as he walks down the stairs.

“Isaac can drive you home,” Derek announces, “It would be better if you showered again with your own shampoo and shower gel to try and mask my scent.”

 

Isaac is quiet on the drive over.

“Maybe you should come up and do like a sniff test once I’ve showered and changed,” Stiles says as he’s getting out the car, “You know, to see how well I’ve masked the pack’s scent.”  The beta silently follows him.

Stiles spend forty-five minutes in the bathroom, showering and dousing himself with his dad’s cologne.  Back in his room he’s digging into the back of his closet for any clothing that might not have the pack’s scent on it, as Isaac sits on the bed.

 

“Do you think Scott will re-join the pack?” Isaac quietly asks while Stiles is under a pile of shirts at the back of his closet.

Stiles turns and looks at him, opening his mouth to say ‘he has to’ only to close it as he thinks about it, and then realises that he really has no idea.  He hopes Scott sees sense and accepts Derek as his alpha, and it has nothing to do with the fact that he and Derek are mates.  It’s because Stiles trusts Derek, and he trusted him before he became aware of his attraction to the broody alpha; long before he knew about them being mates.  But he’s never seen Scott this stubborn before; actually he has, and that was over his denial of knowing how the cross-dressing sadomasochist porn got on his computer.

“Stiles?” Isaac prods, and he realises he hasn’t replied yet.

“He’s my best friend, and I want what’s best for him.  I want him to accept that he and the wolf are one in the same, and to realise that being part of the pack is a good thing; for him and the pack,” Stiles says, but he notices the frown that flits across Isaac’s features, “Don’t you think so?”

“I guess,” Isaac replies.

“But?” he pushes the beta; Stiles knows that he’s not saying what he really thinks.  He can see how nervous Isaac is, and can feel the tension in the air.  “Come on, you can tell me what you really think,” he cajoles him, “I know how much of an ass Scott can be.”

“I don’t think that he’d be good for the pack.  I don’t know that I… that we can trust him anymore,” Isaac rushes out in little more than a whisper.  Stiles stays silent think over Scott and Isaac’s interactions as he waits on the beta continuing.  Isaac licks his lips, looking at his hands and not at Stiles as he begins to explain, “I mean, he made… us think that he cared,” Stiles understands the pause, and something in his face must give it away as when Isaac glances at him he pauses again then says, “It doesn’t matter.”

He’s across the room and sitting beside Isaac in flash; his arm at Isaac’s back and his hand on his neck, his thumb stroking against the beta’s skin.

“It does matter, Isaac,” Stiles stresses to him, “Please, we’re pack, family, we care about each other.”

“It’s nothing…” Isaac can’t even look at him, and Stiles can feel how stressed and tense he is as his hand tries to soothe and comfort him as he kneads and strokes the back of his neck.

“Your feelings aren’t nothing, they’re important, you’re important.”

“I just… I thought he cared about me.  He said at the rave that he wanted me to be careful, and I thought he meant not hurt Jackson, but he said he didn't want me to get hurt.  No-one had ever cared about… not since my mom… and I thought he meant it.  I thought he… I thought we were friends, I thought he cared about me and we were pack and…” Isaac leans his head against Stiles’s, tears damp against his cheek, and Stiles wraps his arms around the beta.

“And he lied to us and used Derek,” Stiles finishes Isaac’s sentence.  “But I don’t think he lied about caring about you.  I really believe he does, and that he does think of you as a friend; he’s just really bad at showing it sometimes,” Stiles smiles even though Isaac can’t see, but it’s more because he’s thinking on how Scott still hasn’t asked about the bruises he got from being beaten by Gerard.

“You think?” Isaac asks.

“Yeah, I do,” he replies.

“Hmm,” Isaac says sitting up a bit straighter, Stiles can feel the beta’s anxiety has eased a bit, “I think you need to have another shower, you still smell like pack; like Derek and Stiles.”

 

“Well?” Stiles turns to Isaac and asks, after his third shower, and pulling on some clothes he’s sure he has never worn around Derek.

“Do you have any more of that cologne?” Isaac asks after taking a sniff at Stiles’s neck.

“If I use any more of my dad’s cologne he’ll notice there’s some missing, and I’ll smell like a gigolo heading to work on some street corner.”  At Isaac’s pained expression he adds, “I’m gonna have to hope he’s too stressed out by the procedure to pick up on anything; if I don’t leave now I’ll be late getting to Deaton’s.”

 


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“So…” Stiles says as he walks through the door at Deaton’s.  Scott practically runs up to him, and pulls him into a hug and he wraps his arms around the werewolf.  Stiles hears him breathe in his scent and almost instantly Scott recoils back from him pulling out of his arms that were hugging him back.

“Why do you smell like Derek?  It’s stronger than ever on you; I thought you were staying away from him and his pack?” Scott challenges him.

“Damn it!” Stiles curses, “I showered like three times.”

“Stiles?!”

“Okay…” he brushes his hand through his hair as he thinks; deciding that he is going to have to tell him he quickly spits out, “Well funny thing about me and Derek; turns out we’re mates, and can’t keep our hands off each other…”

WHAT!” Scott shouts, his eyes wide in shock, “You’re… you’re part of his pack now?!!”

“I guess, sort of,” Stiles stammers in reply, “I mean… now that we’ve actually claimed each other with a mating bite; but it doesn’t change anything between us, we’re still best friends, right.  And if you do join the pack we’re still…”

NO!” Scott insists, and Stiles sees a look of anger and sense of betrayal in his eyes.

“What?” he softly says, unable to believe that Scott would end their friendship like this.

“I mean, you can’t be mates with Derek, you’re not a werewolf; he’s lying to you,” Scott insists, “He’s just using you to get to me; he just wants me as his pack bitch.”

“That’s not true!” Stiles grits out, he’s felt the emotions that Derek has through their bond; he knows how Derek feels about him, “He loves me and I love him, he doesn’t care if you’re in his pack or not.  The number of times you’ve lied to him, and the way you used him.  Once we worked out what was happening to you, what you were, the only reason he even agreed to claim you was because I asked him to…”

“Stiles all he cares about is power and…” Scott cuts him off, not even listening to what he’s saying.

No,” he insists.  He knows Scott is going through a lot, and he has been trying to support him, but he can’t let him continue, “I know how difficult it must be for you in your Scott centric world to think that anyone could care for me.  I mean look at me.  But he does.  He’s been there when you weren’t.”

“Stiles you’re only human, he…”

“Oh My God,” he can’t believe what he’s hearing, how can his best friend think so little of him, “You know what, I’m gone.  Your own your own Scott.”  He turns and walks out.

 

When he gets into his jeep he drives off ignoring Scott calling to him from the clinic’s doorway.  He heads to Derek’s; he needs people around him that believe in him and support him; even though he’s only human.

 


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Jackson is standing beside his car, leaning against the driver’s side, when Scott and Deaton exit the clinic.  He can see how miserable Scott looks, worse possibly than the state he left Stiles in at Derek’s, and Deaton is as expressionless as ever.

“I’m here to make sure he’s okay, and take him home,” he says to Deaton, “Given his other ride is pissed off at him, and anyone else in the pack would have ripped his throat out.  I doubt he’s in any condition to ride his bike.” 

He watches as Deaton and Scott exchange a look, and then Scott nods before he walks over to the car and climbs into the passenger seat.

 

They have barely been in the car together for five minutes when Jackson’s pants feel too tight in the groin and his head is buzzing with the sweet smell of Scott’s scent.

“Bitches and their pheromones,” he complains aloud, rolling down the window and telling him, “You need to learn to control that; especially if you plan on not being part of the pack.”  He really doesn’t want Scott putting himself in so much danger.  He wants to grab him and shake some sense into him, make him become pack and ensure he is safely claimed.  But he knows he can’t.  They sit in silence for the rest of the journey.

 

“I used to think you were smart Scott,” Jackson finally says as he parks in front of Scott’s house.

“Huh?”

“I mean I knew you weren’t as smart as Lydia or Stilinski, and that you could be oblivious, but I always thought, when it counted, you would get there; see what was real and what wasn’t.  Instead you’ve now managed to piss of your best friend who always had your back, got his mate, my alpha, wanting to rip your throat out, Isaac and Erica want to rip you another new one; even Boyd is pissed at you.”

“And you?” he asks.

“Me, I just want you to get your head out of your ass and realise that you need… us, the pack, and…”

“Why?” Scott looks confused as he asks, “If the rest of the pack wants to rip me apart, why don’t you?”

Jackson turns from him and stares ahead as he searches for an answer that won’t reveal something he isn’t ready to admit; something he doesn’t think he deserves after everything he did.

 

“You remember when I was the Kanima, and you and Stiles had me chained up half naked in the preserve?”

“Yeah.”

“Everybody wanted to kill me; everybody but you.  You were the only one that thought I should be saved, that I was even worth trying to save.  So I think you deserve another chance, even if no-one else does.”

“But I know Derek is using Stiles and gonna hurt him; he lied to me, he told me I could be cured of being a werewolf if I killed the one that gave me the bite.  He said he’d help me and then he killed Peter himself to take the alpha power, and now he just expects me to trust him unconditionally!?  And Stiles has been lying to me for months.”

“No he’s not.  Derek and Stiles are mates.  After you used Derek and the fight with Gerard he was done with you.  He wasn’t going to let you near the pack again.  Stiles convinced him.”

“So, you’re telling me that Stiles was manipulating me too!?  And that they’ve been keeping secrets from me since this began!  How am I not supposed to be mad when I find out that they’ve been making decisions for me without even…”

“When has Stiles been treating you differently than he did before he found out Derek and he were mates?  So he kept secrets from you, are you gonna tell me you haven’t kept secrets from him?  I don’t want you to lose everything and everyone that cares about you, and you will unless you stop fighting your instincts and realise you need…”

“My instincts are wrong.  This is not who I am supposed to be, and if you can’t see that then I don’t need you either.  I don’t need you and I don’t need the pack; I don’t need anyone,” Scott shouts before jumping from the car, slamming the door shut and running up the drive.

 

Jackson wants to run after him, grab him and make him see sense.  But he can’t, he doesn’t trust himself to not do something rash and piss Scott off even more.  He pushes his foot down hard on the accelerator and speeds off.

 

Chapter Text

 

 

Of all the things Stiles could be doing on the night of the full moon, this would not be his first choice.  But here he is baby-sitting Jackson through his first full moon as a werewolf.  Derek had said that there was probably nothing to worry about, but, given the volatile emotions of the pack right now, chaining Jackson to his bed would be a better precaution; especially if Scott did call for Derek to go and… take care of him.  A perfect end to the last seven days.

 

The tension and anger within the pack increased the closer they got to the full moon; the pack was more on edge than Stiles had expected them to be.  Just as his relationship with Scott seemed to deteriorate further the closer the full moon came, while he had thought… hoped, that it would start to improve.

 

Derek said that the two were interlinked.  The pack was picking up on his distress over Scott, and they were angry at Scott upsetting him.  The fact that they overheard when he had told Derek about Scott saying they weren’t really mates, and that Derek was only telling him they were to get Scott in his pack, hadn’t helped; their anger at Scott only increasing. 

His own feelings shifted from dejection and sadness at Scott’s refusal to answer his calls and texts, to anger at his friend’s dismissal of him after everything he had ever down to help him, and back again.  ‘He’s just using you to get to me’, ‘he just wants me’; the words had brought back memories of his own feelings of doubt.  Stiles still wasn’t sure what someone like Derek could see in him, but, thanks to their connection, now he knew that Derek’s feelings for him were real; and the fact that his best friend didn’t think someone as hot as Derek could possibly be interested in him he didn’t need.  He could manage that on his own.

Stiles thought back to the day he finally gave up calling and texting Scott and went over to his house.  He had to try and make things right between them, and his only idea was to tell him about the two solutions he had found to possibly undo Gerard’s curse.  Even though he didn’t believe either of them would work; which was why he hadn’t told him about them already.  Scott didn’t even open the door.  He could have barged in, it’s not like he couldn’t have unlocked the door himself, but he didn’t want to make things any worse between them.  Despite the fact he knew Scott was just on the other side of the door, his friend wouldn’t even listen to him.

‘Why wouldn’t you listen to me Scott?’ he thinks to himself.

 

“Maybe because you had been deceitful, manipulative, and had lied to him for your own selfish reasons,” Jackson growls from the bed, letting him know he had thought aloud.

“I didn’t lie to him, everything I told him was the truth,” Stiles defends himself, “And…”

“And what about what you didn’t tell him?” the bound werewolf snarls at him, “Maybe if you had been honest and told him you were Derek’s mate from the moment you found out, maybe if you had told him about the spells that might reverse the cures when you knew about them, then instead of him being angry with you at the full moon when he’s going into heat, he would have gotten past his resentment and I wouldn’t be chained to my bed and I would have been taking care of him like I should be,” Jackson roars at him.

Or you’d be claiming him as your mate without asking him what he wanted, like you said you nearly did already; like that would make anything better!” Stiles shouts back, angry that Jackson thinks he tried to deceive Scott.  Calming himself he huffs, “I only omitted what I thought would confuse the issue.  I wanted Scott to concentrate on what he needed, not on whether I was Derek’s mate; because I knew he’d… have a problem accepting that, and it would get in the way of him realising he needed the pack if I couldn’t find a way to undo what Gerard did to him.”

 

Stiles slumps down, sitting on the floor with his back to the wall.  He’s feeling even guiltier now than he did before about editing out certain facts from what he told Scott; but he really did do it for the best reasons.  Jackson just glares at him from the bed.

 


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“Fuck!” Peter roars as he slams the door to his apartment closed, the back of his head hits against the wood as he leans back on the door for support.  His cock was still hard in his pants and the sweet smell of that sopping wet cunt clung to his senses.  He quickly unbuckles his belt and unfastens his pants, pushing his underwear and pants down around his knees he spits in his hand and takes his aching need in hand.

 

All he can think about is the smell and feel of the bitch writhing in need under him.  His beta.  His bitch.  He made Scott McCall.  As his hand slides along the length of his flesh, his breath coming in short, sharp, gasps, he indulges in the memory of the feel of the bitch’s body; easily fuelled from the scent still clinging to him.  Thinking of thrusting his shaft into the heat of the bitch’s cunt and breeding him, filling his belly with his pups, and claiming the bitch as his, he spills over the wooden floor beneath him.

 

Peter intends to make those thoughts reality.  He doesn’t know why Scott presented as a bitch now and not at his first full moon as he expected, and he doesn’t care.  He made the beta to be his bitch and he will have him.  His body and his mind will be his.

 

He was the one who stuck his claws into the back of the boy’s neck and found the deeply hidden fantasies; buried under the shame created by a father berating him for not behaving like a proper boy.  All he needed to do was draw those back, closer to the surface, and add a little something to make him more… bitch.  So he added the desire to see his belly swollen and filled with pups; give him the need to be claimed and bred by his alpha.  And make him more submissive than he already was, link his obedience to his alpha; something he clearly fought and had still been fighting.  But that was clearly changing now.

 

With his immediate needs met all he needs to do is formulate his plan to put his nephew back in his place, regain his alpha status, and claim his bitch.  His bitch that his nephew will have claimed by now; a claim that is almost impossible to undo.  He knows of just the group to manipulate into helping him; as long as they don’t know his true intentions.  He just needs to work out the details; and he can do that as he cleans up and takes a long hot shower; he needs to wash off the scent of his bitch so he can think more clearly.

 


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Even as she snuggled in closer to her mates embrace, practically sitting on his lap in their alpha’s living room, Erica couldn’t escape the scent of shame and regret.  It clung to Isaac, and Boyd, and her.  She couldn’t believe what she had done last night, and now in the light of day, and with the sway of the moon ebbing, the guilt she felt just kept washing over her until she felt like she was drowning in it.

 

Sex during a full moon had become a regular source of release for the pent-up emotions, that the lunar cycle pulled them through.  The tension, feeling like a coiled spring needing to be let loose, had become a new monthly hell to add to her other one; and sex proved to be a great way to free herself of it.  Sex with Boyd, she’s not a slut.  But last night had been more about their anger.  Something that had been bubbling just under the surface since Scott had yet again dissed the pack, disrespected their alpha, and worst of all belittled Stiles.  He was supposed to be Stiles’s best friend; how could he be so cruel to him?  The things he said; no-one should be that mean and hurtful to their best friend.  She could tell how much he had upset and angered her Batman.  Stiles had become important to her and the rest of the pack.  It wasn’t just because he was their alpha’s mate either.  He was there for them when they needed him.  And he was trying to be there for Scott too.  But Scott wasn’t there for anyone but himself.

After he had treated Stiles so badly no-one wanted to have anything to do with Scott.  Well except Jackson; and Stiles.  The rest of the pack would have been happy to let Scott suffer on his own, but Stiles pleaded with Derek to help Scott when… if… he called for help, and their alpha had relented; promising that he would.

 

The night of the full moon turned out to be the worst since her first.  The control she had been gaining seemed to slipping, fast, and the sex was barely keeping her from losing restraint.  Then Derek was at the bedroom door and the scent from Scott was filling her.  As soon as Derek said, “He’s yours to play with, I promised Stiles he’d be well taken care of if he called; so make sure he is,” it was like a switch was flipped and she was along for the ride.

And fuck.  She didn’t take care of Scott like Stiles intended.  He’d hurt Stiles, and hurt the pack, and she wanted him to hurt too.  The scratches she left on him.  They must have been so much worse than she realised; they were still there this morning.

 

When he ran past them to the door she wanted to stop him, to tell him how sorry she was and beg his forgiveness; but she couldn’t.  He ignored her calling him, and she understood why; she knew just how much she had wronged him and how she had failed Stiles.  And there was no-one to blame but herself.

 


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Isaac wants to run back to his father’s old house, run down to the basement, crawl into the old freezer chest, and close the lid and hide.  He feels sickened by what he did.  Sickened and ashamed that he could abuse someone like that; like his father abused him.

 

He doesn’t know if what he did would be classified as rape; but he feels that it should.  It’s not that he was overcome with sexual desire and had to have Scott.  He’s sure other’s might have that excuse given what Scott is, as if that would make what happened any less bad, but he’s never felt sexually attracted to anyone; male or female.  No, his actions last night had nothing to do with sex.  They were about revenge, about power, and about his anger at someone he had thought of as a friend; someone he thought cared about him.  Someone who tricked him into thinking they cared about his well-being.

Scott sounded so sincere the night of the rave, when they were trying to catch Jackson and the kanima’s master.  Scott looked him right in the eyes and with such conviction said, “No, I mean you.  I don’t want you to get hurt.”

And there were all the other little things that made him trust the dark-haired beta; like the fact he always seemed to want to help, and always seemed to want to do the right thing.  So he trusted him, believed he cared, and believed Scott was his friend.  Only for him to betray them all; his pack, Derek, Stiles, and him.

 

And even with everything that had happened since Gerard’s death, Stiles had said that Scott really cared, and Isaac wanted to believe him.  But then Scott had shown how that wasn’t true; not just that he didn’t care about him, but also about Stiles.  Isaac saw how Scott’s dismissal of Stiles’s relationship with Derek hurt Stiles; and Stiles had proven himself to be more of a friend than Scott had.  He was there for the pack; for him.  Stiles tried to be there for everyone, he tried to take care of everyone; even Scott.

 

And as the full moon approached he felt his anger rising; aimed squarely at Scott.  Then last night, before Stiles and Jackson headed to Jackson’s place, Stiles started worrying about his ‘best friend’ again.  He even pleaded with Derek to keep his promise and take care of Scott when his heat got too much to deal with and he called, which Stiles was certain would happen.  Derek agreed, assuring Stiles that if… when Scott called he would go and take care of him; with that a pissed off looking Jackson and a happy Stiles were gone.

 

Isaac paced around his room, trying to ignore the sound and scent of sex coming from the spare room that Boyd and Erica were using.  He heard the howl, sound of distress, and Derek rushing from the apartment.  Erica and Boyd must have missed it, the sounds from their room never stopping.  Then Scott’s scent was in the apartment, and Derek was across the hall telling the couple, “I promised Stiles he’d be well taken care of if he called; so make sure he is.  Once you’re finished with him, pass him over to Isaac.  And Boyd, no fucking his pussy, and that goes for you too Isaac.”

 

All he could think was no, no, no, he didn’t want him here.  He didn’t want to have to…  He paced around his room as he tried to concentrate on the techniques for control Derek and Stiles had taught him, tried to focus on his anchor.  But the sounds from the room across the hall, the scent of them and Scott, just fuelled his anger as he kept being reminded of every time Scott had let him down, let Stiles down, had used Derek, and had betrayed the pack.

 

When Boyd knocked on his door he didn’t want to answer.  He’d never felt so angry at someone before.  And now in the cold harsh light of day, with the effects of the moon wearing off, he knows he abused Scott.  He knows, because he treated Scott no better than his father treated him.  And he hates himself for it.

 


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As the front door closes behind Scott, Derek’s forehead slumps against the door of his bedroom; he knows he fucked up.  Last night he let things get out of control and he’s going to need to explain to Stiles how he failed him.  How he couldn’t control his anger and gave Scott to his betas because he knew if they lost control and took their anger out on him those injuries would heal.  Because when he brought the bitch into his apartment he didn’t trust himself to be able to keep his promise to him.

 

He was angry; so angry.

At Scott for the way he didn’t listen and fought his own instincts and desires, for not trusting Stiles who was trying to help him and who would do anything for his best friend, for putting himself in danger by running through the streets naked when he’s in heat.

At Peter for laying a hand on Scott, who was his and Stiles’s bitch.  Oh, how he wanted to rip his uncles balls off and feed them to him when he pulled him off Scott last night.

At Stiles for making him promise to take care of Scott when he knew how angry he and the rest of the pack were, and how much that anger was eating away at their self-control the closer they got to the full moon.

But especially at himself.  For every mistake he made since he found out what Scott was.

 

He should have had better control and not initiated sex with Scott when he came to see him the day after he changed.  He should not have listened to Deaton and tried to be the alpha a typical pack bitch would want when he knew Scott always fought his instincts.  He should have had tried to persuade Stiles to tell Scott they were mates instead of hiding it.  He should have taken Scott back to his own home last night; the drive there would have given him the time to get his anger under control.

 

But what did he do?  He fought his own instincts.  Because he was still angry with the boy for using him in Deaton’s plan against Gerard, he was still angry at him for denying him as his alpha.  But also because every fibre of his being was telling him to claim the bitch as his as if he was made for him.  And he couldn’t, wouldn’t, allow that to happen when the beta didn’t understand and didn’t accept what he was.

 

He doesn’t know how he can explain any of this to Stiles, and he can only hope that his mate remembers his promise.

 


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All through the night while he sat watching over Jackson, and okay sometimes slept, he’s had the mixed feelings of the edginess from the pack running through him; along with the simmering anger that he is sure is from Derek.  Then this morning he felt flooded with regret.

 

As he approaches the parking lot at Derek’s complex he sees why, and his own feelings of anger at the pack, and especially Derek, start.

“Get in,” he shouts to Scott, the idiot ignores him and continues to walk, naked except for a pair of Derek’s boxers and his body covered in marks and… stuff.  He calls out to him again, “I said get in before someone sees you and calls my dad!”  And Scott finally does.

 

They are on their way to Scott’s when Stiles’s anger boils over.  He pulls to the side of the road and pulls out his phone and hits Derek on his speed dial.

“What in the HELL were you fucking thinking Derek?!” Stiles shouts into his phone.

“Stiles,” Derek starts to explain.

“I asked you to…”

“We did get him through his heat, we did take care of…”

No, Derek; throwing him out of your apartment, naked apart from a pair of your boxers, after fucking him, and with come crusting to his body, is not taking care of him!  And, if you REALLY want to talk about you taking care of him maybe we should talk about the cuts, welts, and claw marks all over his body?!  Hmm?!  You wanna try explaining where the hell those came from Derek?”

“Erica and Isaac had some control issues with him being here and…”

“The fact that you didn’t do it makes it worse, not better Derek!  Where were you that you allowed it to happen?  So did you sit there and watch as your betas did it…”

“No!”

“Or walk away and leave Scott alone with them?!  And if it was your betas and not you, how come he hasn’t healed them yet?”

“If he’d called out and said he didn’t want…”

“The fact that he didn’t say no doesn’t mean a damn thing!  He was in heat and wasn’t CAPABLE of saying no; you know that.  He needed the sex Derek, not the fucking physical abuse that went with it.”

“If you just come over so we can talk and…”

“I’m taking him home and making sure he’s okay; like you should have done.”

“I can come over to his…”

“Are you fucking kidding me?  NO!  Of course you can’t come over,” Stiles screams into the phone, “Let me put it this way Derek, do you remember how much I hesitated ages ago when you asked me to cut off your arm?  Well you come near Scott right now and you’ll see just what it would be like for me to cut something off you.”

“Stiles, please…” Derek pleads.

“Just wait at your place and I might consider calling you later.”  Stiles hangs up and pulls out into the road again.

 


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Stiles can’t reconcile the sight before him with the Scott he saw only a week ago.  He’s curled up in the foetal position in the middle of his bed, his sides scraped and scratched, his thighs – and Stiles assumes his ass – lined with welts; and he doesn’t want to think about what’s in his hair.

He climbs onto the bed behind his friend and wraps an arm around him.

“I’m sorry,” Scott’s voice cracks slightly with emotion as he speaks, “I shouldn’t have said what I did, and I should have called or gone to see you after Deaton’s… Dude, you’re my best friend and I can’t have you being angry with me.”

“You were angry, and I was angry; and I could have let myself in when I came over to see you too, but I didn’t.  I talked to Jackson after he picked you up, and he told me what you said… and it’s not like you didn’t have a right to be angry.”

“I wasn’t angry, I was scared.”

“Scared of what?”

“…”

“Scott?”

“Of what was happening – had happened – to me.  Of how much I was starting to just accept it.  But mostly of how good it felt, and how safe I felt, when I was around Derek or Jackson.  He does love you, you know; Derek I mean.”

“I know he does.  Ever since the actual mating I can feel it; it’s like a thread pulled tight between us, we can sense what each other is feeling.”

 

Scott turns to face him and he can see the dampness in his eyes.

“When did you and Derek become mates?” he cautiously asks.

Stiles wishes that Scott had asked this a week ago, or that he had told him before then, because right now it hurts to think about it; hurts to think of what’s happened because they didn’t talk, and of what’s still to happen because they didn’t talk.

But he does, slowly, explain to his friend how he and Derek became mates; then he persuades him to have a hot shower and wash Isaac out of his hair, before he ends up making a comment about him looking like Cameron Diaz.

 

While Scott is in the shower Stiles takes the opportunity to call Jackson and let him know what happened with during Scott’s heat.

“They what?!” Jackson fumes at the other end of the call.

“Calm down,” Stiles harshly whispers back to him, “I’m with Scott now at his place, he’s in the shower cleaning up, and…” the line goes dead.  “Damn it,” he says to himself and half considers calling Derek, but he doesn’t know if Jackson is heading here to Scott’s or to Derek’s; and right now he can’t face calling Derek.

Instead he starts tidying up Scott’s room, placing his phone back on the charger, and picking up the used vibrator and dildo between his thumb and index finger he gingerly places them on the bedside table.

 


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Stiles still has his phone in his hands, sitting on the bed and leaning back against the headboard, when Scott re-enters the room; the towel around Scott’s waist does little to hide the welts and scratches on his body.

“I’ve put your phone on its charger, but I’m not sure it’s working,” he says, putting his own phone down, “And I thought you might want to clean these,” he indicates the vibrator and dildo that are now on the bedside table.  “Want to talk about last night?  And the marks?”

“No.”  Scott says quietly and turns to his dresser; Stiles notices how he takes out a pair of the silk panties Jackson bought him and puts them on without even thinking about it, but he doesn’t comment.

 

“Scott,” he says moving off the bed and pulling his friend towards it, he gets Scott onto the bed and then wraps arms around him from behind; trying to comfort him.  He knows Scott is internalising what happened, making it his fault, and he can’t allow that; he knows enough about werewolves to know that is the only reason for the marks and scratches, deep as some of them are, to not be healing when they aren’t from an alpha.  He needs Scott to talk about it so he can show him that it isn’t his fault and he can heal.  “Come on bro, don’t shut me out; tell me what happened.”

Stiles let’s out a breath he didn’t know he was holding when Scott slowly starts to talk.

 

He listens as Scott talks about what happened, and tries not to interrupt, but it gets harder for him to stay quiet when he starts making excuses for them; saying that they merely lost control because of the full moon.  He starts to explain that no matter what they didn’t have the right to abuse him.

“But…”

“No buts, Scott,” Stiles interrupts, “What they did was wrong.  They raped you…”

“No!” Scott turns to face him, his face wet with tears, “I went there ‘cause I couldn’t take care of my heat, I wanted to have sex with them, it wasn’t…”

“Scott, you wanted the sex because of your heat, but you didn’t consent to the scratches, or the whipping with the belt; the marks they’ve left on you, the fact they are still there, show it was way beyond any sexytime fun… once they crossed that line, it isn't consensual anymore.”

“I know,” he whispers, barely looking him in the eye, “Everything about me liking that stuff is wrong; that’s why I tried to deal with it away from the pack, and why I wanted to…”

“Scott, that’s not what I…” Stiles stops him, then stops talking himself as he realises that this is the first time Scott has admitted his interest in BDSM; he has to try and make sure that he doesn’t associate consensual BDSM play with the kind of abuse he just suffered.  And he needs to make sure his friend realises that there is nothing wrong with him being kinky, “The fact that you’re into BDSM isn’t wrong, as long as what happens is consensual; but what they did wasn’t consensual, was it?”

“I…”

 

They talk for ages while Stiles tries to impress on his friend how being a submissive masochist is not wrong if that’s what you’re into; as long as you ensure that when you play it is sane, safe, and consensual.  And impresses on him that just because you didn’t say no doesn’t mean you said yes.  Throughout their conversation Scott is mostly subdued until Stiles says, “I don’t think I can forgive them for what they did; I don’t think I can forgive myself.  I have to break up with Derek, we’ll find another pack, one that you feel safe with…”

“You can’t!” Scott yells.

“Scotty, there has to be another pack out there that…”

“No, I mean, you can’t break up with Derek; you’re mates, and you claimed each other…”

“Yes, but as you pointed out I’m not a werewolf, so I can.”

“But without his mate he could go feral!” Scott says, and Stiles can see the shock and worry on his face, “It could even kill him?”

“Scott, you’re my best friend, and I put your well-being in Derek’s hands, I trusted him to take care of you and he betrayed that trust; do you really think I would…”

“Tell me you don’t love him.”

“I… I still love him, but I can’t forgive him; not yet,” he admits, trying to hold back the tears.

“He loves you too, you know,” Scott says, his breath ghosting over Stiles’s forehead where he is softly kissing him, trying to comfort him.  Stiles tilts his head up to tell him he knows and is surprised when Scott kisses him on the lips.  He jerks back, but something makes him surge forward and kiss his friend back, taking his mouth he turns them around so the Scott is underneath him and presses him down into the mattress.  He slides his hands under Scott’s t-shirt and soon has him moaning his arousal into his mouth.

 

“Boys, I’ve made some pancakes,” he hears Scott’s mom shout from the doorway, “I swear to god I’m getting you a lock for this door,” she shouts as the door closes loudly.  From the other side of the door she shouts, “Breakfast, kitchen, now.”

Stiles isn’t sure if he is glad of the interruption or not, but he thinks that just maybe he needs time to understand why things escalated so quickly with Scott so soon after his heat.

 

Chapter Text

 

 

Jackson checks out the bruising around his eye in the rear-view mirror after he pulls up outside Scott’s house.  He knows that while it’s already showing it will be a while before it heals; a punch to the face from a pissed off alpha will do that.  He’d gone to Derek’s after Stiles called him; intent on having it out with his pack mates and his alpha, but it didn’t go as he’d expected.

“What the hell were you all thinking?!” Jackson snarls at the three betas in the room as the door to the loft slams shut behind him; there’s no sign of their alpha.

“Is he alright?” Erica asks from the couch, the timidity in her voice more than he can remember hearing since she was bitten.

“Hell no,” he roars, stepping towards her, “How the hell would he be alright after some bitch ripped into him with her claws; what the fuck were you trying to do re-enact Nightmare on Elm Street?”

“You need to calm down,” Boyd steps between them, blocking Erica from Jackson’s view.

“Stiles is never gonna forgive me; Catwoman ain’t gonna have her Batman anymore,” Erica blubs softly, making no sense to him; but he can smell the self-loathing coming from all of them fill the room.

“And what about you?” he rounds on Isaac.

“What?” Isaac looks up at him, his face filled with shame and despair, “You can yell at me now and tell how I’m no better than my dad?  I already know, we all know, what happened is unforgivable.”

“How is Scott?” Derek calmly enquires as he walks down the spiral staircase, “Stiles said he wasn’t healing.”  There’s an audible gasp from Erica and whine from Isaac.

“No, he’s not; so how do you think he is after the four of you abused him instead of taking care of him like Stiles asked?”

“You don’t need to remind me how I messed up,” Derek growls at him, “I know I’m responsible for what happened.  Instead of keeping an eye on everyone I left them alone while I went to rein in and get control of my own anger; and so I’ve probably lost my mate, Stiles isn’t…”

“Stiles is as responsible as the rest of you, if he hadn’t been so manipulative, if he listened to Scott instead of deciding for him, if he’d talked to him face to face after Scott found out he’d been lied to, if he hadn’t asked you to take care of …”  Jackson doesn’t get to finish his tirade as Derek’s fist connects with his face.

“You should maybe take some of your own advice and actually talk to and listen to Scott before you start deciding what Stiles did or didn’t do,” Derek snarls.

 

Getting out of his car he scouts around the house until he’s at Scott’s window.  From where he is he can hear Scott and Stiles arguing.

“…You didn’t trust Derek, Isaac, or Erica, and you wouldn’t have changed your mind about that unless they had earned your trust.  You can’t let one mistake destroy that.”

“This isn’t a ‘mistake’ Scott.  They could have killed you last night, and you can’t just let that go with ‘it’s was the full moon amplifying their anger…”

“You did, when it was me that nearly killed you on the full moon,” Scott retorts.

“That was different, it wasn’t you it was…”

“The moon…”

“Let's not forget YOU didn't actually do anything to me, they can't say the same…”

“We still need to work to control it, and if we’re already in an emotional state it makes it so much harder to keep control.  They were angry because of how I’d treated you…” 

“And Derek didn't do a damn thing to try and stop them,” Jackson interrupts as he climbs through the window, “Are you okay?”

“What happened to you?” Stiles and Scott ask him at the same time.

“My alpha took issue with me taking the pack to town over what they did,” he replies, “I went to the loft to rip them a new one for what they did.  So I start tearing into them…”

“What!?” Scott exclaims, his eyes wide with shock.

“Verbally.  I wasn’t going to physically attack three betas and an alpha; I might have been pissed off at them and angry, but I’m not suicidal.” Jackson clarifies, “Not that I would be against bashing someone’s head in right about now.”  He starts to give them the short version of what happened when he went to Derek’s loft, but Stiles interrupts even that.

“So what did you say that got you the black eye?”

“That this was just as much your fault,” Jackson says nodding his head to indicate Stiles, “More than it is Scott’s.  That a real best friend wouldn’t have been so manipulative and hidden the fact he was dating the alpha he wanted his friend to be claimed by, and that you should have listened more to what Scott said he wanted and needed instead of deciding based on what you thought was best for him, and that after you had fought you could have actually made an effort to come over and talked to him instead of just texting and then forgetting about him when he didn’t reply.”

“Jacks! That’s not fair,” Scott yells at him as Stiles grabs his phone and storms to the bathroom seething, “He can’t go around hitting people for saying what’s mostly the truth!”

 

“I messed up too, Scott” Jackson says as he hangs his head, not able to look Scott in the eye, “We were all pushing you to deal with how you’d been changed the way we thought you should, and it might have been for the best of reasons, but I should have asked you about the underwear before buying it for you.  I want to believe that I just thought you’d be more comfortable in it than regular boxers or briefs, but I also know that’s not the only reason I did it and I should have given you more time to get used to… how you’d changed before starting anything sexual…”

“It’s not like you forced me to do anything,” Scott counters.

“I didn't ask if you wanted to do anything either.  So, you never answered my question,” he says looking up, “Are you okay?  Stiles’s text said the cuts and welts weren’t healing.”

“It’s nothing.”  But Jackson can hear the lie in his heartbeat.

“If it was nothing, you would have healed by now,” Jackson says, his voice rumbling with the effort to hold back the growl of frustration and worry, “They raped…”

No!” Scott yells, “They didn’t; I already had this out with Stiles, you’re both wrong…”

“NO!” Jackson vehemently states, “You went there for sex, because you were in heat and couldn’t say no; so you went to Derek and the pack for safety and to be taken care of.  But what they did you didn’t consent to; so when they started doing something that you didn’t consent to then it became rape.”

“Things just got out of hand because it was the full moon,” Scott tries to argue. 

“I get that the moon had an effect, I just experienced it, but that doesn’t change the fact they committed rape, and Derek didn’t stop them.”  Jackson hears Scott’s heart thudding and his gasps for breath and begins to panic that he’s pushing Scott too far again.

“No, no, no…” Scott repeats as he blacks out and falls into Jackson’s arms.

 


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Stiles is livid as he storms into the bathroom; he’s furious at Derek for not keeping his promise, at Scott for being so stubborn and putting himself in danger running naked through the streets, and at Jackson for pointing out – once again – that he too has some culpability over what happened.  He locks the door behind him and dials Derek’s number from speed-dial.

 

“Stiles?” Derek’s hopeful, broken, voice asks, and it almost cracks through his anger, almost makes him forgive him; that sound as if Derek has shattered into tiny pieces, amplified by the remorse he feels bleeding through their shared bond.  He hates that sound; hates that he has broken Derek.  But he can’t let go of his anger, because then he would need to face that he can’t tell how much of that remorse is his own.

“What the hell is wrong with you?!” he whispers angrily, not wanting Scott or Jackson to hear him, “Now you’re beating up Jackson?  Who the hell else are you gonna beat on?!”

“I didn’t beat up Jackson,” Derek replies, indignation at the suggestion clear in his voice, “It was one punch; what was I supposed to do, let him get away with saying…”

“The truth?” Stiles interrupts, the fight and anger leaving him as he feels the alpha’s love and sorrow.  He knows Derek was trying to defend him and it makes him choke on the words that follow, “Don’t you get it Derek; Jackson is right, I am just as responsible.  I knew how you felt about Scott after what happened.  Knowing that I still pushed for you to still take care of him.  That’s why we had to chain Jackson up at his place, because when Scott did call you were going to have to leave and his alpha leaving to ‘take care of his mate’ would only rile up his wolf more.  Well, none of that work out so well, did it?”

“Stiles…”

“Rhetorical question, I don’t expect an answer,” Stile ploughs on, “If we’d all been there it would have been different.  But I didn’t want to be there when he called, because I was angry at him too.  And maybe Jackson is right, maybe if I had told him about you and me from the start it would have turned out differently.  But I can’t fly around the world and turn back time, so I have to fix this the only way I can; going forward.  I have to show Scott how I am his best friend.  I need to be there for him, and that means I can’t be there for you, or the pack.”

“He might need to be with us, if he’s claimed after last night,” Derek quickly replies, and Stiles can hear the worry in his voice.

“What did you do that would claim him?” he slowly asks.

“I did what had to be done, for his heat,” Derek half explains and Stiles is waiting for the rest with a sense of dread, “But as he was in heat, and if the contraceptive doesn’t work, he might be pregnant, and if he is…”

“I’ll deal with it,” he interrupts, and quickly hangs up; he has to.  He can’t ask Scott to carry Derek’s baby and interact with a pack that treated him the way they did, but he knows what family means to Derek and the thought of what a termination would do to him…  and if Scott did terminate the pregnancy, assuming there is one, would he still be claimed as Derek’s?

Shoving his phone back in his pocket, he wipes his eyes before heading back into Scott’s room.

 

“What the fuck?!” he all but shouts as he steps into the room and sees a startled and panicked looking Jackson turn to him with an unconscious Scott in his arms.

“He just blacked out; we were arguing about what happened last night, about him being raped, he kept saying he wasn’t and then started hyperventilating and…” Jackson rushes as Stiles runs over to them and kneels down beside them to check on Scott, “Shouldn’t we call his mom, get him to a hospital or something?”

“No,” he answers the stricken wolf, “How can we take him to hospital?  How would you explain his change of genitalia? And do you want to explain the scratches and welts on him to his mom?”

“But…”

“I think he had a panic attack and…

“You think?!” Jackson screeches at him.

“Jackson, he’ll be fine,” Stiles insists, “Just help me get him on the bed and we’ll keep an eye on him.  If he doesn’t come around in a few minutes, then we’ll call his mom.”

 

They settle Scott in the centre of his bed, and Scott rolls over wrapping himself around Stiles while Jackson press up against his back and wraps an arm around Scott’s waist.

“While you were right about most things, you were wrong about one,” Stiles comments, startling Jackson enough that the blond wolf looks over Scott’s body between them; waiting on Stiles to continue, “I did come over, but Scott wouldn’t answer the door; no matter how much I shouted or banged on the door.”

“Then maybe you’re not as shit of a friend as I thought,” Jackson scowls at him.

“I don’t know,” Stiles smiles wanly, “I could have been better, and I plan to be.  Starting by keeping away from Derek and the pack, and keeping Scott away from them too…”

“I’m part of Derek’s pack,” Jackson gripes at him.

“And I’m Derek’s mate,” he hisses back, “But who’s more important, Derek or Scott?”  Stiles doesn’t need to wait for Jackson’s answer, he already knows it, so he pushes on, “We can be Scott’s pack…”

“You need…”

“I know, an alpha and at least three betas, but…” he interrupts the wolf, “We can take care of Scott, right now would you trust any of the pack near him?  And really, would it be helpful for him to be around them?  He keeps blaming what happened on the moon, on the pack being angry because of what he said and losing control; but really, it’s just internalised victim-blaming, and self-blaming isn’t going to help him heal.  We need to help him be able to deal with what happened and heal.”

“And what happens when some other pack comes sniffing around him?” Jackson all but snarls.

“Deaton’s been teaching me…”

“What?  How not to trip over your own feet?”

“Funny, not,” Stiles scowls at him, “I’m a trainee emissary, an ovate…”

“You’re egg shaped?” Jackson asks with a mischievous look of disbelief, and Stiles knows he’s teasing him.

“Ha, ha,” Stiles false laughs before continuing, “I can control mountain ash, make a protective circle…”

“That doesn’t mean…” Jackson starts to interrupt, but stops as Scott starts to stir.

“You okay?” Jackson asks him as Stiles quips, “I didn’t know werewolves could have a panic attack, buddy.”

“What were you guys talking about?” Scott asks.

“Let’s talk about you first,” Stiles asserts, “Like Jackson asked, are you okay?”

“Fine,” he replies unconvincingly, “I didn’t have a panic attack, I just…”

“Got very anxious and worked up when talking about…”

“I wasn’t raped!” he snaps at them both, squirming out of their hold.

“Fine,” Jackson huffs, “Then tell me how you wanted scratched so deeply, and belted so harshly, that your body isn’t healing bruises, cuts, and welts, that some betas, not an alpha, left on you; tell me how you consented to that!”

 

“They didn’t mean to,” Scott finally replies after stumbling over trying to excuse what happened.

“They possibly didn’t mean to,” Stiles bites out, “But they did and Derek didn’t stop them.”  And that’s Stiles main problem; Derek didn’t keep an eye, or any wolf-y sense, on Scott to make sure things didn’t get out of control.  That and his own gnawing guilt of having pushed Derek and the pack into the situation in the first place; but he’s ignoring that for now.

“Scott, even a human has trouble coming to terms with what you went through.  I get that you want to make everything right.  I even understand why you think that if you pretend that they didn’t do anything wrong…” Jackson sees Scott going to interrupt and talks right over whatever excuse he was going to make, “… we can all just move on, but you’re forgetting one thing.”

“Oh, and what's that.”

“My…” Jackson begins, and looks over at Stiles, he ignores the knowing look on the other boy’s face and turns his attention back to Scott, “Our, top priority is you. Derek, and the rest of them will never be as important to me as you are.  You come first Scotty, not them; and for all your talk about how the situation is grey because of the full moon, they didn't make some simple mistake, they did something horrible.  They could have killed you, as it is you’re not healing like you should.  And given what you are you’re vulnerable to them.”

They both watch the range of emotions that play over Scott’s face before he asks, “Is that what you were talking about?”

 

That leads to Stiles and Jackson explaining about Stiles suggestion of the three of them being their own pack, and that Deaton had been training Stiles to be an emissary.  As Jackson and Stiles argued about it, over Scott still lying between them, Scott didn’t take kindly to Stiles’s comment of ‘…I’d trust us to take care of Scott and protect him…’

“I don’t need protecting, I’m not some damsel in distress; I can defend myself!” Scott protests.

“He doesn’t mean that you can’t defend yourself, he means during your heat; that we could take care of you and protect you from unwanted… attention,” Jackson explains, holding back the growl he feels rising at the thought of anyone else forcing themselves on his Scott.

“And agree the limits of what happens regarding your… more specific needs; and stick to them,” Stiles adds, suddenly getting Jackson’s attention.

“Huh!?”

“You know,” Stiles says, giving Scott look to convey ‘do you really want me to spell out’, “The more special stuff you like.”

“Does Scotty have some kinks?” Jackson gleefully asks as Scott splutters, “I… I…”

“You need to work on your kink list,” Stiles states, deciding there’s no point in trying to be coy about Scott’s kinky side if Jackson has already guessed, “I have one I created from some I found on line, I’ll send it to you and you can fill it in.  Then any play will be agreed, everything will be negotiated and your limits respected.”

 


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Jackson watches over Scott’s shoulder as he works through the kink list that Stiles emailed him.  He can see that many of the four hundred listed kinks are purely fantasy, like Pokémon and ‘un-birthing’, but given the supernatural exists – and he and Scott are werewolves – he won’t dismiss a lot of what is on there as not being possible; even if it’s improbable.

 

What surprises him more, however, is Scott marking more than thirty of the kinks as a ‘3’ – ‘I usually like’ – or higher; there are even a few of them that Scott has marked ‘2’ – ‘Will do this activity, but it has no special appeal for me, but wouldn’t object it if was asked of me’ – that Jackson finds himself curious about.

“You are a kinky-boy,” he whispers against Scott’s ear, and he knows Scott can smell his arousal as he scans through the kinks Scott has marked and the possibilities it suggests of just what he and Scott could do.  About the only thing keeping him in check is the pacing back and forth in the periphery of his vision that Stiles is doing, he radiates anxiety; though Scott seems oblivious to it with his concentration on the list of kinks Stiles provided him with proving a great distraction.

 

“Like I said,” Stiles interject, finally stopping his pacing, “You can add or remove stuff from the list as we go,” he adds, “There’s one more thing we need to talk about… well two things, but we need to deal with one first.”

 

Jackson listens as Stiles rambles through explaining that removing curses is next to impossible once the person that cast it is dead, and how the one spell that might have removed the curse from Scott was no-longer an option now.  His focus though is on Scott, how he reacts to losing this chance of being fully male again, and he feels himself let go of the breath he hadn’t known he was holding as Scott casually responds, “Okay, I guess we’ll never know now if you were right.  I guess I should have answered the door to you.”

“You said there were a couple of possible cures,” he reminds Stiles, and wishes he hadn’t as he starts to explain the ritual and possible results.  It doesn’t sound like any sort of option and he doesn’t like the sound of what it could do to his Scott.  He can’t hold in the growl that escapes as Stiles keeps clarifying all the ways it could result in changing Scott.

“… I don’t want to risk it.”  He hears the words fall from Scott’s lips, a sad resignation to his voice that makes him wonder if he’s accepted now that there is no way to undo what Gerard’s curse has caused.

 

When Stiles tells them that Scott may already be claimed by Derek, if the contraception hasn’t worked, he bites back the snarl building in his throat as he reminds himself that effectively Derek is still his alpha.  And if Scott is pregnant with Derek’s child then Stiles’s plan of forming an alphaless pack will already have failed.

 

He puts those concerns to the back of his mind for now.  They can deal with that if it happens.  For how he’s going to concentrate on providing Scott with the support he needs, and learning all he can on how to fulfil their kinks.

 


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Peter was under no illusion; he knew his plan had risks.  Not least of which sat opposite him now.  The Alpha Pack.

“And to what do we owe a visit from a member of the distinguished Hale Pack?” Deucalion smiles at him.

 

Exactly how Deucalion had persuaded them all to perform the ritual sacrifices Peter isn’t sure, but he is certain that they don’t know the full extent of what they have done.  To be pack you need an alpha and three betas; the betas make the alpha stronger and the alpha makes the betas stronger.  An alpha without any betas will go feral.  Each of these alphas have killed every one of their betas, and their pack’s emissary, to take their power.

 

But only one of them now leads a pack.  Only one of them is truly an alpha.  Deucalion.

 

Ennis, Kali, and the twins, are all very powerful, and they all have the red eyes of an alpha, but they do not lead; they follow.  They ceded their power, their alpha-ness, to Deucalion when they chose to perform his ritual and kill their packs.  Peter has no intention of being as stupid as they were.  He just needs to use them to weaken his nephew enough to allow him to take back what is rightfully his.

 

“To join the alpha pack I would have to take the power from every member of the Hale pack,” his returning smile is as feral and dangerous as Deucalion’s, “However, Scott McCall is a male bitch and a member of the pack, if not already claimed by my nephew.  I think he’s rather too valuable an asset to lose.”  The almost imperceptible tightening of Deucalion’s fingers around his cane leads Peter to believe the alpha of alphas agrees.

“And if he is claimed by young Derek…?” Deucalion asks.

“I have a ritual for that, should it be needed,” Peter smirks, “But Derek and the rest of the pack are not going to leave the bitch on his own, so I would be grateful if the alpha pack could liberate him.”

“I think Scott McCall would be a welcome asset to our pack,” Deucalion licentiously replies.

“Wonderful,” Peter grins through gritted teeth.  He notices the twins quickly school the fleeting look of concern from their faces.  He knows one of them is Deucalion’s bitch, and they must be worried about being replaced.  But Peter has no intention of allowing his Scott to be claimed by any other alpha.

 


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“Your concentration seems a little off,” Deaton comments as he puts the fire extinguisher down and examines the charred door to the back office he and Stiles are standing in.

“Really?” Stiles snarks, “What makes you think that?”

“Stiles,” he says, staring over his shoulder at him with his all-knowing look that right now is bristling at Stiles’s nerves, “Do you want to talk about it?”

“No,” he huffs, crossing his arms; he’s frustrated enough with everything that’s happened and now he can’t even cast a simple flame that he could do last week.

“Whatever is bothering you, it is causing you to lose control of your spark,” Deaton states in his calm, emotionless, voice.

“Or I’m just not very good at learning to be an Emissary,” he huffs at the man.

“I really don’t think that is the problem,” Deaton replies, looking at the door, “Control of your power is linked to how you are feeling, and something is causing a loss of that control,” he adds turning back to face him, “You need to be able to control your emotions so that they...”

“Oh, I should just bottle up my emotions and act like a fucking Vulcan that feels nothing,” Stiles yells, “Because it’s that easy to just push aside that Derek allowed his pack to rape and physically abuse Scott, it’s that easy to ignore that if I hadn’t lied to him about me and Derek things could have been different, if I had looked harder I might have found a way to undo what Gerard did, and…” he falters, his words finally coming out barely above a whisper, “… I might have still been able to trust Derek and not have had to break up with him.”

He sees Deaton’s eyes widen as he hears the almost whispered words.

 

“As I already told you once the person that cast the curse is dead it is virtually impossible to undo, especially without know exactly what they did.  So, you are not responsible for not finding a way to reverse the curse.”  Stiles looks as though he is about to argue, Deaton holds up his hand to silence him and continues, “Furthermore, Gerard’s curse, as you have since worked out, only forced Scott to re-experience his first shift on the next full moon.  The other changes that occurred were not because of the curse; undoing the curse would not have undone Scott’s change of biological sex from male to intersex…”

“But…” Stiles tries to argue, but Deaton talks right over him.

“And when it comes to blame for what happened there is plenty to go around, between Derek, his pack, you, and Scott.  None of that excuses Derek for not intervening and ensuring Scott was not being harmed, or the pack for their individual actions; but, given you have just stated that it is not easy to control your own emotions do you think that it is any easier for Derek or the pack?  Do you think it would be any easier for them on a full moon?  Or that they deliberately set out to cause Scott any serious injury?”

“Well, no but how can I trust them not to hurt Scott again?”

“Shouldn’t that be whether Scott can trust them?”

Before Stiles answers his phone beeps; he looks and sees a text from Scott.

[Scott>Stiles: URGENT MEET US BACK AT MY HOUSE NOW]

“I gotta go; Scott’s got some sort of emergency,” he says to Deaton as he heads out the door; glad of the escape from having to consider Deaton’s lecture.

 


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Danny knew there had to be other – what humans call – ‘supernatural’ beings in Beacon Hills; people that, like him, were not human.  With the number of ‘hunters’ around the ‘cougar’ attacks just stank of being connected to some werecat, werewolf, or other therianthropic hybrid that had gone feral.  It meant he kept his head down and tried to steer clear of any involvement.  Of course, he didn’t know that his best friend was up to his neck in it.  But as he never let Jackson know that he wasn’t human he can’t exactly hold it against him for not mentioning that he was a werewolf.

 

So, obviously, finding Jackson in the bathroom stall at Denny’s fucking the co-captain of the lacrosse team in the ass, while fingering his vagina, and both he and McCall being in their beta werewolf form was a shock.  Even more of a shock being that Scott McCall now had a vagina where he definitely recalls him having a very healthy sized cock between his legs.  He saw it often enough in the locker room at school.  As did everyone else on the team.  They are going to have to come up with some way to explain the physical changes to his body, or a reason for him suddenly being body conscious and not being naked in the locker room anymore.  A reason that doesn’t get people inquisitive.

 

The other surprise was finding out that Stiles Stilinski was a spark, and training to become a druidic emissary.  Having someone outside of his family to talk about magical technique with is something he thinks will be good, for both him and Stiles; though his own sphere is attuned to manipulation and control of things, especially electrical and technological things.

The fact that Stiles is the bonded mate to the alpha of the pack they are now trying to break away from is worrying.  That can only cause them problems; specifically, for Stiles and his spark.  Any tension in the limbic resonance, the mate bond, between Stiles and their alpha will affect his powers; and it sounds as if there is already disruption to his control.

 

And it’s clear to him that there is discord between Scott and the others, over what happened during Scott’s heat.

It’s clear that he’s affected by the assault.  It was impossible for him not to notice how Scott imperceptibly flinched from their touch before relaxing into it and seeking it.  From what he has heard the intersex betas within werewolf society are very tactile; so, recoiling from a pack-mate as he did, suggests he is more affected by it than he is admitting.

 


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Melissa was waiting for Scott, or Stiles or Jackson, who both know what was wrong, to come to her and talk.  To let her help and resolve whatever the problem was.  She just didn’t expect to hear her son shouting it out.

I don’t need to talk to Morrell,” she hears him roar from inside his bedroom, “I wasn’t raped!

The words, the anguish that they make her feel, like a boulder dropping into the pit of her stomach, cause her to become rooted to the spot at the bottom of the stairs.  She sees Scott coming down, and knows he doesn’t want to talk to her about what happened, but she has known something happened that night that none of them were telling her.  She knew it was bad.  She noticed the signs; how he initially shrinks back from being touched before leaning into it and becoming more clingy, how he has only been hanging out with Stiles and Jackson and none of them talk about the rest of the pack in front of her.  And she knows they are fretting over it, and its clearly been upsetting Scott.  How was she not supposed to worry?  Especially now that she heard what he shouted.

 

“Scott,” she catches his attention, getting him to look at her before he passes by, “What’s wrong?  What happened?”

“It’s nothing,” he dismisses her concern, and she has to swallow back the distress it makes her feel.

“I know something’s bothering you, and if you want to tell me I’m here,” she says, she prays he’ll let her in, talk to her and let her help.  She sees the flicker in his eyes as he bites at his bottom lip and considers, “If you want to talk…” she adds, resting her hand on his shoulder.

“It’s just… things didn’t go so well the night of… you know, with the full moon and everything, and…”

 

As she listens to Scott struggle through telling her what happened the night of the full moon she doesn’t know if she wants to cry, wrap Scott in her arms and never let him out of her sight, or get the most poisonous strain of wolf’s bane from Deaton and shove it down Derek Hale’s throat.  She knows that despite Scott’s protests to the contrary it is a big deal, and something that at some point he is going to have to work through.  And that can’t happen until he accepts that – even if it was the full moon making their anger take things further than they intended – they abused him.

And then Jackson is explaining how he has been going to therapy, and he mentions Ms. Morrell, the school counsellor; that Morrell knows about the supernatural.

 

The relief washes over her when Scott agrees to talk to her, at least once.  She prays that it helps, but she still considers getting the wolf’s bane from Deaton.  Hale was supposed to keep her son safe.

 


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“Can we order from Wonderland?” Erica calls out as Derek descends the stairs, “I like their Mu-Shu Pork.”

“Once Isaac gets back from his session with Morrell,” he replies.  All of them had started seeing Morrell, needing to find some way to work through the guilt of what had happened.  Jackson’s sessions with her had been helping him, so they figured that it was worth trying.

“But he always orders the Mango Chicken, and if we order now it will be delivered about the same time he gets back,” she complains, looking to Boyd for support.

Before he replies the red light of the alarm blares and the door to the loft is being rolled back.  Two huge male alphas roar, their red eyes shining.  Derek recognises one of the alphas as Ennis.

 

Erica and Boyd charge for the attack before Derek can stop them, and the alphas quickly have them subdued and pinned to the floor.  Derek unable to help them as he fights the female alpha that followed them.  She’s fast, and powerful and her acrobatic high kicks and tumbling soon has him on the back foot; before he has a chance to recover and strike back she pulls a pipe from the wall and plunges it into his back, and through his body to the strike the floor beneath him.

 

“Everybody done?  Because just listening to that was exhausting,” states the fourth alpha who now walks in; the tap, tap, tap of his white cane against the floor.  Deucalion.  Derek remembers when his mother said he was a fair and decent man, but that was a long time ago; before he formed this alpha pack.  “So, let’s chat,” he smiles at Derek as he crouches down beside where the female alpha holds him skewered on the pipe.

 

“Sorry about this Derek,” Deucalion continues in a conciliatory tone, “I asked Kali to be gentle but…”

“This is me being gentle,” the female alpha replies as she twists the pipe.  Now there’s only one alpha that Derek doesn’t know the name of.

“Let them go,” Derek asks, the blood dripping down the pipe.

“Unfortunately I have need of them,” Deucalion replies.

“What do want?” he asks, gasping from the pain as Kali moves the pipe, the blood now falling from his lips, “You want to kill me?”

“Don’t throw me in with sociopaths like your uncle.  I’m a man of far greater vision, and I’m here to show you just how much vision a blind man can have.”

“You’re killing him,” Erica screams.

“Not yet blondie,” Kali smirks, “But I could, so you might want to move this along,” she directs at Deucalion.

“The problems of being in a pack of alphas, everyone wants to make the decisions,” he mourns, “Me, I’m more interested in discovering new talent.  Like you.”

The words chill Derek more than the fear of Kali killing him.  He knows what joining Deucalion’s pack entails.

“I’m not killing my pack,” he defies him.

“I don’t want you to kill all of your pack,” Deucalion smiles, “Your sweet little bitch, McCall, he you’ll bring with you; so that your claim on him can be removes, and he will be free to be claimed by me.”

“No,” Derek snarls at him.

“I thought you might have some doubts, which is why we’ll be taking these two,” Erica and Boyd struggle and fight against the two alphas as they are dragged from the loft, “When you next see them you’ll have no choice, and then killing the others will be so much easier.  Tell him how it feels Kali to kill your own.”

“Liberating.”

“Remember Derek, all except Scott McCall.”

 

Derek hears the tap, tap of Deucalion’s cane as he leaves, and the cackle of Kali’s laughter.

He’s not sure how long he is left there until Isaac returns and finds him, pulling the pipe from him to allow his body to start healing.  But he knows that he must protect Scott and Stiles, he must protect his betas, and he must free Erica and Boyd from the alpha pack.  Or die trying.

 


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Jackson has noticed how Scott has changed over the past couple of weeks.  He’s far more reconciled in himself, and his nature.  He thinks that the acceptance seems to have happened quickly; since Danny caught them in the bathroom at Denny’s.  Part of him wonders if it is in part because he’s only interacting with Stiles, Danny, and him; not with Derek and the rest of the pack.  If that is the case, then maybe they can make this work without a proper pack and Scott being claimed by the alpha as his consort.

But whatever the cause of Scott’s acceptance of himself, he can’t deny he likes this submissive and tactile side of him; or that knowing of Scott’s kinks has made him realise he has some of his own.

 

Having spent the previous day keeping him naked at home, while his parents are in New York, had been fun.  He could tell how much Scott loved being controlled, and discovered just how much he enjoys dominating him.  He’s looking forward to doing it more often, and knows that Scott is too.

 

He’s feeling good as he parks his Porsche outside Deaton’s clinic to pick up Scott.  He smiles to himself as he locks the car and walks jauntily into the veterinary clinic.  The smile and jaunty walk continue until he catches the tang of anxiety rolling of Scott in waves.  He rushes to the back room and can hear Scott on the phone.

 

No Stiles!  You have to do something now; you have to stop him!” Scott demands before he turns and seeing Jackson hangs up and throws himself into his arms; pulling him into his embrace.

“Scott, what’s wrong?” Jackson asks with a panic in his voice.

“It’s Derek…”

“What’s he done?” he growls in reply, “If he’s touched you I’ll kill him.

“No,” Scott whines, “He came to see me, to warn me and…”

“Warn you?”

“He said there’s an alpha pack,” Jackson wants to ask what that is but Scott keeps talking, “And their leader wants me.  He said he was taking Isaac and getting out of town… something must have happened to Erica and Boyd… I don’t want them to be dead, Jacks…”

“I’m sure they’re not,” he reassures him.  He’s sure they aren’t, he’d have felt something; his bond with the pack is faint just now, but it’s still there.

“Jacks, he said to tell Stiles he was sorry he failed him; that he failed Erica and Boyd, and that he was sorry he failed me too.  I don’t think he or Isaac are coming back, not unless Stiles can stop him from doing whatever it is he has planned.”

“Let’s get home,” Jackson says, his priority being to calm and comfort Scott, “Then we can find out what the hell an alpha pack is,” it doesn’t sound like anything good to him, “And see what Stiles has planned to stop Derek doing something stupid.”

 

Chapter Text

 

 

Twelve Days Ago

 

Scott picked at his food.  He could feel his mom’s eyes on him; feel her worry and knew it was only a matter of time before she asked him how things went with Morrell.  He wasn’t sure how he’d answer.  He wasn’t sure how it went.

It was supposed to be one session; then he could say he went and there was no need for him to go back, what happened was just werewolf stuff because of the full moon and nothing was wrong.

But then, after nearly two hours of just talking around everything, she asked ‘Scott, I want you to think on how you would interact with the pack now… What if Erica or Isaac tried to hug you?

His mind jumped straight into the nightmare of Erica digging her claws into his skin and ripping his sides open; without the endorphins of his heat dulling the pain.  His heart rate ticked up and his mouth felt dry.  He couldn’t answer her; couldn’t tell her ‘it would be fine’ like he wanted to.  And he didn’t know why.

 

“Sweetheart, are you okay?” he finally hears his mom say, her hand resting on top of his, and, seeing the concern in her expression, he wonders how longs she’s been asking him.

“I’m fine,” he responds.

“You know I’m here for you, if you want to talk about it,” her wane-full smile never reaching her eyes; he knows she means the session with Morrell, but he’s not sure he wants to talk… not sure he can talk about it.

“I know, I just need to work some stuff out,” the strength of his smile only matching hers, “Thanks mom.”

“Are you going back?”

“She set up another appointment for Tuesday,” he tries to sound enthusiastic.

“You only have to go if you want to remember?” she asks, clearly picking up on his lack of passion for the session.

“I know,” he responds, “But, maybe it will help me sort out these…”  Again, he can’t seem to get the words out, and he doesn’t want to say something that worries his mom more than she already is, “I can’t really explain, and maybe seeing Ms Morrell will help with that,” he finally finishes.

“Okay,” she replies.

“I’m not feeling too hungry right now, I’ll go take a nap and reheat this later, okay,” he says leaving the table and bounding up the stairs to his room.

 


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“I’m gonna have a shower,” Scott shouts down to his mom, before closing is bedroom door behind him.  He quickly strips out of his shirt and pants, throwing them on the hamper, and walks into this bathroom in just his socks and boxers.  He didn’t wear any of the underwear Jackson bought him.  He was in too much of a rush to get dressed to bother with the garter belt or trying to fasten a bra, and too scared to wear them when he would be working at the clinic; dealing with the public.  Someone might have noticed.

 

He turns on the water to let it come up to temperature and returning to his room slips off his socks and boxers, adding them to the pile of clothes on the hamper.  Turning to head back to his bathroom he catches sight of himself in his mirror.

 

It’s only been three weeks.  He still expects to see his cock and balls instead of the smooth hairless vagina.  How is he supposed to have gotten used to these changes already?  And yet, he knows that since his heat he kind of has.  He runs a hand over his smooth flat stomach and thinks of the life that may be growing inside him; in his womb.  If the contraceptive device hasn’t worked, he may be carrying Derek’s child.  He’s not sure how he feels about that.  He’s only sixteen, he’s still in high-school, and he plans to go to college and become a veterinarian.  But, it would give him protection from any other alpha werewolf claiming him; it also brings him back to the question Morrell asked him, ‘how you would interact with the pack now’, and he doesn’t want to think on that.  Scrubbing his hands through his hair he heads for the heat and steam of the shower, hoping that it clears his head of the confusing thoughts racing around.

Everything about what’s happened is confusing, and at the same time some of it just feels right.  When he is with Jackson, when he was with Derek – before his heat, hell, even during his heat, when he didn’t fight his instincts and just submitted to them; it felt right, even though he didn’t want it to.

 

When he walks back into his room after his shower, his head no clearer than before, he finds Jackson moving stuff around in his underwear drawer.

“What are you doing?  How did you get in here?” he asks the blond wolf.

“To answer your last question,” Jackson turns and looks at him, admiring the damp sheen to his skin, the water still clinging to his hair and dripping to the towel around his waist, “Your mom let me in, obviously; and as to what I’m doing, I’m sorting out your clothes so you don’t accidently put those things on again,” he chides, pointing to the boxers on top of Scott’s laundry.

“But…”

“No, you clearly stated you like being told what to wear, so, in the top drawer are your panties and bras, in the second are your stockings, garter belts and socks, and in the third I’ve put your camisoles, baby-dolls, and t-shirts.”

“What about my…” Scott starts asking, ignoring the tingling in his lower region at how forceful Jackson is being.

“Your old socks, boxers, briefs, and the t-shirts I didn’t leave in the drawer, are in these bags,” he points to four plastic bags on his bed, “That are going in the back of your closet, until you’re ready to ditch them completely.”

“Okay,” Scott swallows, “I was gonna put on some underwear and take a nap.”

“Your mom said you didn’t eat much of your dinner after getting back from Deaton’s,” and Scott knows Jackson is deliberately not saying ‘your session with Morrell’, “So, how about we get you dressed in something light, go down so you can eat some more of your dinner, and then take a nap together.”

“I guess,” he replies, liking the idea of a nap together; he knows that will stop his mind mulling over the talk with Morrell.

“Good,” Jackson smiles as he picks up the bags and takes them to Scott’s closet, “I’ve laid out something for you to wear on the bed.”

Scott looks over and sees the nude rose panty, made from a lace and mesh fabric printed with a floral motif, and a matching baby-doll camisole.

“I can’t wear those?!” he exclaims.

“Why not?” Jackson turns to him with a confused frown.

“If we’re going down stairs to eat; my mom’s down stairs,” Scott hisses at him.

“So?” Jackson insists, “She knows about your changes, and she knows about your panties and stockings…”

“But she’s never seen me wearing them,” Scott implores him, “I can’t…”

“Give me a colour,” Jackson gently asks.

“What?” Scott is momentarily confused by the change of topic.

“You know, safe words, like Stiles told us; red, amber, green…”

“Amber,” Scott quickly states; he needs a minute or ten.

“Okay,” Jackson takes his hand and leads them to the bed, sitting them down side by side, “So, what’s your mom going to do when she sees you dressed in these?”

“I don’t know,” Scott bites at his bottom lip.

“What do you think she is going to do that has you worried about wearing them in front of her?”

“Think that I’m a freak.”

“You’re not a freak, and your mom isn’t gonna think you’re a freak,” Jackson consoles him, wrapping an arm around Scott’s shoulder and pulling him towards him to place a kiss at his temple, “Your mom loves you.  She knows about you being a werewolf, about you being intersex, and she wants to support you and help you how ever she can.  She won’t want to know everything,” he smirks at Scott, “Like your fetish for cum marking, or how wet you get at the thought of me going down on your pussy, or that you like getting spanked…”

“Jacks?!” Scott whines at him.

“But, seeing you wearing clothes you like to wear isn’t going to send her running from the house or have her reject you.”  Scott isn’t sure he’s entirely convinced, “Since she found out about you changing, about your panties and stockings, has she ever said or done anything to suggest she thinks less of you?”  At Scott’s shake of his head Jackson continues, “Don’t you think it would be good to not have to hide everything from her?”

Scott knows Jackson isn’t gonna push him.  He trusts Jackson, and knows he’s right; his mom isn’t gonna react badly, well, he’s ninety percent sure his mom will be okay.  She already knows he’s wearing the panties sometimes, and she saw the bags from when Jackson bought him more panties and stockings and stuff.  And he does want to wear the clothes that Jackson’s picked for him.

“Green,” he says referring to the safe words, his voice wavering a little from nerves over the ten percent doubt over his mom not freaking out, “I’ll wear them.”

“Good boy,” Jackson breathily whispers and kisses his mouth.

 

Scott looks at himself in the mirror.  His skin showing through the sheer baby-doll where it cinches around his chest and hangs down to just below his ass; his matching panties just visible through the material.

“Are you sure this is okay?” he asks, biting at his lower lip, again, as he frets, “Don’t you think it’s a little short?”

“It’s fine, and you look gorgeous wearing it,” Jackson purrs into his ear as he wraps his arms around Scott’s waist, “Maybe I should have gotten you a pair of heels to wear with it.”

“Huh?”

“Hmm, I can smell you like that idea,” Jackson’s breath ghosts against Scott’s ear, “Maybe we’ll go to the mall after I finish school tomorrow and pick you out a pair; now let’s go down and get you fed.”

 


«»♂«»±«»♀«»

 

Melissa turned to the sound of footsteps on the stairs, her mouth falling slightly open at the sight of her son coming down dressed in a sheer camisole and very little else.  Jackson was a step behind him, a hand placed gently on his shoulder.  She was aware of the growing collection of new underwear and hosiery that had been appearing in Scott’s dresser drawers and in the laundry, but he had never worn any of it where she could see; except for that one time when she first found out about the changes in his anatomy and she had taken him for an examination at the hospital.  He’d always hidden it from her.

 

“I persuaded him to come down and have something to eat before he takes a nap,” Jackson says from behind Scott.

“So I see,” she replies, raising her eyebrows questioningly as she asks, “Is that new?  I don’t remember laundering it before.”

“No,” Scott quietly replies, and she doesn’t need any wolf-y senses to realise he’s nervous, scared even, “I just haven’t worn it before.”

“Okay,” she smiles at him, “It’s nice.”  She can see the slight relaxation in his shoulders at her words, and her smile grows.

“You don’t think I’m a freak?” he carefully asks her.

“No,” she gently scolds, “Why would I?”

“Because I’m a boy, and I’m dressing like this.”

“Honey, as long as you are wearing these clothes because you want to, not because you think you have to because of your anatomy, and not because anyone is making you,” she directs her gaze at Jackson, “Then there is nothing wrong with you or how you’re dressed.”

 

She suddenly finds herself being wrapped in his arms, her own arms pulling him tightly to her, as he cries into her shoulder; she only now grasps how frightened he’d been of her reaction to seeing him dressed like this.

“You’re my son, and I love you; just the way you are,” she tells him.

“I love you too, mom,” he sobs against her.

“Now, come on,” she says, pushing back her own tears, “Let me reheat those quesadillas for you; before I head to work.  I’ve got a full night shift ahead of me.”

 

As she’s plating the quesadillas, she looks over at the boys sitting at the table.  Scott’s smiling as he looks at something Jackson is showing him on his phone.  He seems so much more like his self than the sullen boy that was sitting there just a couple of hours ago.

“What about these?” Jackson is asking him.

“I don’t know,” Scott whispers back, “Forty dollars for a pair of slippers seems way too much.”

“Slippers?” she asks as she puts the plates down in front of them.

“Yeah, I’m trying to persuade Scott he needs a pair of slippers to wear around the house so he’s not running around in his bare feet all the time,” Jackson replies.

“Oh, I have a pair like those,” she says recognising the design, “But they were only twenty dollars from the mall, and made of rubber and plastic; not leather and Damask print fabric.”  She finds herself wishing she had a rich boyfriend willing to buy her a pair of slippers costing up to fifty dollars.

“I think these will suit you when you’re wearing that silk and lace chemise, or the satin camisole,” Jackson encourages him, and Scott looks to her worrying at his bottom lip.

“Well, I haven’t seen either of those garments, so I could comment on how they’d look together,” she says, “So, I will have to leave it to you boys to discuss, I’ve gotta run.  Now, eat up before your food gets cold, and remember it’s a school night; even though you’re off, Jackson isn’t.  See you in the morning,” she says as she kisses the top of Scott’s head, “Love you.”

“Love you too mom,” he smiles at her as she closes the door behind her.

 


«»♂«»±«»♀«»

 

“Told you your mom would be fine,” Jackson says later, while they are lying spooning on Scott’s bed; with Scott as the little spoon.

“Yeah,” Scott murmured.

“What’s on your mind?  You’re not doing a very good job of going to sleep.”

“I… it’s nothing, just…”

“Something from when you went to see Morrell?”

“Yeah,” Scott admits; knowing there’s no point in lying to a werewolf.

“Do you want to talk about it?  Would it help?”

“Not really, and probably.”

“Are you going back to talk with her again?”

“Yeah.”

“It will help; talking with her.  My first session left me confused, conflicted, but it’s helping me sort things out in my own head.  I know logically I wasn’t to blame; still not sure I’ll ever totally feel I wasn’t, but each time I talk with her I feel it a little less.”

Scott turns in Jackson arms to face him.

“Thanks,” he whispers, and kisses him chastely on the lips.  They smile at each other, before closing their eyes and drifting silently to sleep.

 


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Eight Days Ago

 

Scott’s sitting in the chair in Deaton’s back office again.  Though he’d rather be home.  The feel and stench of the tampon in him is something that he’s not liking at all; he’s sure he’s going to need to change it before the eight hours supposed leak-free protection is up, and the hot water bottle he’s holding against his stomach barely helping against the cramps he feels.  His period started two days ago, and all he wants to do is lay down on his bed or the couch at home and have Jackson, Stiles, or Danny stroke his hair; that’s made him feel better these last few days.

 

“How are you feeling?” Morrell asks him.  Scott glares at her, barely suppressing his growl behind his clenched teeth, his expression leaving no question about how he’s ‘feeling’.  “I was referring to how you were feeling other than in relation to your period.  Though I would expect that you were happy about that; now that you know you’re not pregnant and claimed by Derek.  Don’t you?”

“Yeah,” Scott answers cautiously; too cautiously.

“You don’t sound too certain about that,” Morrell probes him.  He pulls his feet up on to the chair, defensively putting his legs in front of him; revealing his black stocking clad feet, which had been hidden by his jeans, in his new leopard print round-toe pumps with a stacked one and half inch heel.  He runs his fingers over the calf fur of the shoes; he likes his new shoes, they’re comfortable to wear, and the rubber soles are a lot like what he’s used to on his sneakers, though the heel he’s still getting used to walking in.  He still can’t believe Jackson spent over a hundred dollars on them though.

“Scott?” Morrell coaxes him back to the question he was avoiding, “How do you feel about the fact you’re not pregnant?”

“I…” he starts, pauses and swallows the lump at his throat.  He knows he didn’t want to be pregnant, he has school to finish and plans for what he wants to do after, but… “It’s good that I’m not; I mean I’m too young just now, I’ve still got high school to finish and I want to go to college,” he knows his voice doesn’t sound as sure as his words until he says, “But, things would have been easier if I was; I’d be claimed by an alpha, I’d have a pack…”

“And the decision would have been made,” Morrell confirms, “You would have preferred for the decision to be taken out of your hands, to be made for you?”

Scott doesn’t think it’s so much a question as a statement for him to confirm or deny.  They’ve briefly discussed his submissive instincts before, and he touched on his exploring of BDSM with Jackson and Stiles; but Morrell has never pushed him to talking about it in any detail.  He thinks he’d prefer that to talking about Derek and the pack.

“Yeah,” he says, “I guess I would, I mean I like when Jackson picks my clothes for me, when he orders my food sometimes when we eat out; it’s nice to be taken care of.”

“Were these options on the kink list you mentioned Stiles gave you to complete?”

“Yeah, well the thing about clothes, not the food…”

“What else on the list did you like?”

“Uh… well…” Scott clears his throat, thinking maybe he didn’t want to talk about it as much as he thought, before quietly croaking, “Spanking… and um… crossdressing, bondage… forced… forced nudity… that kind of thing…”

“And were these things you fantasied about before becoming a werewolf?”

“Yeah,” Scott admits, thinking it over in his head he continues, “Some, mostly it was a stray thought now and again, nothing I actively thought about.  I’d try and push it to the side if I did start thinking about it; you know.”

“Why did you push it to the side?”

“Because boys are supposed to be tough, be the leader and take charge; they’re not supposed to want to be told what to do, to enjoy being spanked or hurt like that, or wear stockings.  My dad said it wasn’t manly, he said it wasn’t right…”

“When did he say this to you?”

“I…” Scott huffs out a breath, he’s never talked to anyone about this, but he starts and doesn’t stop, “I was living with him at the time, I was eight or nine I guess; old enough to get the bus to school on my own.  He’d popped out to get us something for lunch, he was only going to be a few minutes; I was bored of the whatever was on TV and started looking around the apartment, can’t remember what I was looking for.  I found this box of stuff in his closet, it was marked ‘Rachel’s Stuff’, I guess a girlfriend of his left it there.  I opened it up and there were pantyhose and panties, skirts, shoes, a wig, makeup, that kind of stuff.  When he got back, I was still in his bedroom; I had the wig on my head, and my pants off trying to pull the pantyhose up my legs.

I remember the look of horror on his face as he grabbed my arm and ripped the wig of my head, his voice as he roared at me that I shouldn’t be doing that, it was wrong, a real man wouldn’t do that, and what would my mom think.”

“What does your mother think?” Morrell’s words draw him from the melancholy of the memory, “About the changes that you’ve gone through, and the clothes you’re choosing to wear?”

“I…” he thinks back to a few days ago, when she saw him dressed in the camisole and panties, “I was so worried she would think I was a freak, that she’d hate me.  But she doesn’t, she still loves me and is accepting this is who I am now.  I know it can’t be easy for her, that I’m not necessarily the son she expected, or wanted, but she still loves me.”

“She may not have expected a werewolf for a son, or an intersex person for a son, but every one of us is an individual and can never be exactly what our parents expect us to be; just as they can’t always be what we expect of them.  But all we can do is accept people for who they are, and hope that they can do the same for us.  It sounds like you mom does.”

“Yeah.  I’m still her son.”

“Is that how you define yourself?”

“Huh?”

“There are different ways to define yourself; through your gender identity, your gender expression, your biological sex, and your sexual orientation.  For example, gender identity can be female, genderqueer or bigender, male; it’s how you think of yourself.  Gender expression is how you express yourself, through the way you interact, dress, behave; you can be feminine, masculine, androgynous, or be genderfluid and switch between them and mix them up, whatever feels right to you,” Scott’s face lights up as if he’s found enlightenment as she talks, “Your biological sex is determined by biology, and as a werewolf you can’t change your genitalia to correct them to the match who you identify as; you are always going to be intersex as you are now.  Sexual orientation is based on who you are physically and emotionally attracted to, based on their sex/gender and your own; heterosexual, homosexual, bisexual, polysexual, asexual, or pansexual.”

“What’s polysexual?” he questions, confusion evident in his furrowed brow.

“Where bisexual is used to identify an attraction to both males and females, polysexual accepts that there are more than just the binary sexes and that you are attracted to more than one of those sexes or genders.  Pansexual is an attraction to all genders.”

“Oh, then I guess I’m gender male, of genderfluid expression, who’s intersex and polysexual,” he beams at her.

“There’s nothing to say that your identity, expression or orientation won’t change over time,” she gently explains, “Now, I want to go back to something we were talking about earlier.  We were talking about your fantasies, and you said you used to push them aside; when did that change?”

“I guess after I was bitten,” Scott answers, “I mean at first I still kind of fought them, like I fought being a werewolf.  They weren’t things I wanted; the fantasies and being a werewolf.  I wanted to be normal.”

“Your fantasies and being a werewolf don’t mean you aren’t normal; just that you’re different to everyone else, and like I’ve said before, everyone is unique.”  Scott doesn’t say anything in response to her comment, “Why do you think you stopped pushing the fantasies away?”

“Stiles says that I was acting on my wolf-y instincts; that my wolf brought them more to the surface as it recognised them as part of me.”

“Do you agree with him?”

“I guess; he’s usually right about this stuff.”

“But he’s not right about what happened during your heat?”

“What?”  Scott hadn’t seen it coming, the switch back to talking about how Stiles and Jackson both thought he was raped and abused during his heat, “No, he’s wrong; he’s not taking everything into account!”

“What isn’t he taking into account?”

“He’s ignoring the effect of the full moon, how it affects our control.  It was going to be harder for them to control themselves when I had upset them so much.  Everything I’d done to them, every lie I’d told them, how I just dismissed Derek and Stiles relationship and made it all about me…”

“Did that give them a right to hurt you the way they did?”

“I was in heat, and I like a little pain, it didn’t really matter!”

“You were in heat, and needed them to take care of you; the way Stiles asked them too.  How they treated you does matter.  Would you have allowed them to do what they did if you weren’t in heat?”

“I…” he balks at answering the question, fighting back the tears as he thinks about that night again, and how he felt afterwards, “I…”

“Scott,” Morrell is holding one of his hands, a tissue held out to him in her other; he realises he didn’t hold back his tears.

“No,” he says, “I wouldn’t.”  But it isn’t that simple; he still can’t accept that Stiles and Jackson are right.

“We’ll pick this up next time,” Morrell smiles at him.

 


«»♂«»±«»♀«»

 

When Scott gets home, his mom has already left for work; but Jackson and Stiles are there, and Stiles is bouncing with excitement.

“They’ve arrived, we gotta try them out,” he enthuses.

“What’s arrived?” Scott asks; pushing his conflicting emotions from Morrell’s session to the side and plastering a grin on his face to match Stiles’s own.

“Maybe it can wait until later,” Jackson suggests, picking up on Scott’s feelings.

“What? Why?” Stiles looks between them, his feeling of dejection evident.

“No,” Scott insists, “Maybe it will lift my mood, I could do with something to take my mind off my period and other things for a while.”  Stiles instantly cheers up.

“Come on, they’re up in your bedroom,” Stiles infectiously enthuses, as he grabs his hand and races towards Scott’s room, “We didn’t want your mom to see them.”

 

When they get to his bedroom there is a box lying on it, but Stiles is unbuttoning Scott’s shirt and pulling it off.  Jackson turns on the light and walks over to close the blinds across the window; by the time he’s finished Stiles has taken Scott’s shirt and bra off and is presenting Scott with the box.

Opening it he sees the pair of ‘Screwz - Ultimate Tit Suckers’ that Jackson had ordered from mr-s-leather.com.  He ordered the small pair, with the three-quarter inch opening; because he didn’t want to make Scott’s nipples too large.

“You want to try them out now?” Scott asks swallowing down the slight anxiety he feels, they haven’t really done any nipple play with him; at least nothing that involved more than Jackson’s fingers or teeth.

“Do you want to?” Jackson asks before Stiles can jump in with a ‘hell yeah’.

“I guess,” Scott says, as he feels a slow build of anticipation, “But can I go clean up first?” he asks indicating the area of his groin.  Jackson catches a whiff of his flow and nods in the affirmative.

 

When Scott returns from his bathroom break, Stiles and Jackson are sitting on his bed; Jackson reading a leaflet that must have been in the box, and Stiles is opening up a vial of something that he’s applying to the end of the of the screwz.

“It says you can use spit,” Jackson huffs at Stiles, “You don’t need a fancy oil to create the suction.”

“It’s not just to create the suction,” Stiles hisses at him.

“What is it?” Scott asks feeling a little apprehensive.

“It’s a mixture that I came up with,” Stiles starts to say, and at Jackson’s growl quickly adds, “With Danny’s help… I figured that the whole point of these is to make Scott’s nipples bigger, perkier, and more sensitive for playing with; given his interest in nipple play.  But, being a werewolf, the changes these create will quickly fade; so, this stuff, which includes wolfs bane oil so Jackson be careful with it, should mean that over time the effects of the screwz lasts longer, and eventually permanently.”

“How much bigger?” Scott asks.

“Well, maybe about twice the size they are now,” Stiles smiles at him, “Or more if you want.”

“How about we go with seeing if Scott is happy to continue after this first time, and then he can decide how big and sensitive we make his nipples,” Jackson directed.

“Fine,” Stiles assented to Jackson, before asking Scott, “Ready?”

“Ready,” Scott nods.

“Give us a colour,” Stiles demands of him.

“Green,” Scott smiles back, knowing he trusts them.  Stiles smiles back at him as he places the first screwz around his right nipple.  Scott feels a slight tingle, probably from the oil, and then Stiles turns the screw to create the suction and he feels his nipple being pulled in.  “Ahh,” he gasps at the sensation.

“You okay,” Stiles asks as he stops turning the screw.  Scott nods his affirmation.

“Give us a colour,” Jackson demands.

“Green, still green,” Scott answers.

“Okay, I’ll do the other one now,” Stiles confirms, and as the first screwz hangs from Scott’s body, stuck in place by the vacuum, Stiles applies the other around his left nipple.

 

Jackson grabs Scott by the back of his hair and pulls him into a bruising kiss.

“Jacks,” Scott breathily.  They been playing with him for… Scott’s not too sure, he’s a little spaced as they play with the suction on his nipples, gently tugging at them, and pulling his hair as they guide him to whichever set of lips is going to kiss him.

“You are so hot,” Stiles whispers as he nibbles at Scott’s earlobe.

“Yes, he is,” Jackson growls in agreement.

Scott just melts into the next kiss.

 


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Four Days Ago

 

Scott pulls at the bra under his shirt, trying to distance the material from his nipples.  After the screwz devices being applied for the last three nights, since they arrived, he’s already finding his nipples are more sensitive; even with the satin underwire bra he chose to wear thinking it would be gentler on them.  He still feels it every time the fabric brushes against the nubs.

“Is everything alright?” Morrell asks him.

“Yeah, yeah,” he answers, smiling at her, “Just needed to adjust something.”

“So, we were talking about your last visit, and how you were treated by Derek’s pack…”

“Yeah,” Scott interrupts her, not really looking forward to going over that again.  It’s not like it hasn’t been going around in his head for the last four days, “But I still think that it was the moon,” he argues.

“I don’t think anyone could disagree that the moon certainly played a part in what happened,” Morrell sideswipes at his argument, “But does that absolve them from any responsibility for what they did to you without…”

“But I was in heat, I couldn’t…” Scott’s words trail off as he can’t decide between saying ‘couldn’t say no’ or ‘couldn’t consent’; neither really helped his line of reasoning.

“Isn’t that the point.  Being in heat you were not in any state to consent,” Morrell calm continues, “In your last visit, you said that what happened went beyond what you would have agreed to; that if you were able to stop it, you would have.”

“But I had to… I needed them to have sex with me; I was in heat,” he insists, “It was only because of the full moon that they went as far as they did; they lost control.  When I lost control and nearly killed Stiles he said it wasn’t my fault it was the full moon; he forgave me.”

“What happened the night you attacked Stiles?” she asks him.

“Which time?”

“Any of them.”

“One time Stiles stopped me by spraying me with a fire extinguisher, another time I was stopped by…”

“So, every time you nearly attacked there was someone who stopped you?”

“I did attack him, but, yeah I was stopped before I did any serious damage…”

“Who stopped Derek and his pack before they did serious damage?”

“But I was in heat, and I healed; Stiles wouldn’t have.  If he can forgive me, why can’t I forgive them?”

“You can, but you still need to deal with how you feel about what happened?”

“But I had to have sex for my heat…”

“Yes, but rape isn’t about sex.  The major motive for rape is power, not sex.  Sex is used as a weapon to inflict pain, violence and humiliation,” her words hit home, reminding him how he felt the morning after; the pain from the cuts and the pain and humiliation of Derek’s words when he threw him out of the apartment, crusted semen sticking to his skin and hair, “You don’t have to ‘tough it out in silence’ you can talk through your feelings; you aren’t any less traumatised by the abuse you experienced just because you are male.”

He feels the heavy weight settle in his stomach; he was ra… abused by Derek and the pack that night.

“But I don’t want to be the reason Derek and Stiles split up,” he sobbed, “They’re mated, they claimed each other, they can’t split up because of me.”

“Scott, they aren’t splitting up because of anything you did,” Morrell tries to calm him, “You did nothing wrong that night…”

“But if I hadn’t said what I said to Stiles, if I hadn’t lied to Derek and the pack about Gerard, if…”

“If it had been any one else that had done what you did, and the pack did to them what they did to you, would you think that it excused their abuse?  What if it was Stiles or Jackson that had been in your place?”

 

He’s filled with a sudden fury as he places Jackson or Stiles in place of himself that night, and is filled with distress at thoughts.

“No,” he quietly intones; he lifts his face to look at Ms Morrell, “I was abused.”&nnbsp; His voice so quiet it sounds more like a question than a statement.

“Yes, but we will work through it; together.”

 

 

 

Chapter Text

 

Now

 

There are only ten days to go until the end of the school year, and Scott’s missed most of his exams.  He’s missed most of the past month of school; since his change at the start of May he was hardly ever there.  It was just as well that lacrosse was over and there was no practice for the times he was there; and he hasn’t been in at all since the week before his heat.

His mom has managed to convince the Principal that he has needed to be out of school for some medical reason; Scott isn’t sure what, but the school are allowing him to be home schooled and sit the exams over the summer break.  If he passes the exams he’ll progress with the rest of his classmates; if he doesn’t he’ll be held back a year.

He’s waiting on the others to arrive at Deaton’s; when they do it’s for one of his therapy sessions with Morrell.  The sessions were set up so that he could talk through the abuse he suffered during his first heat.  This is only the fourth one of them so far, but Morrell thought that Scott’s pack needed to be present at some of his later sessions.  After yesterday when Derek came to the clinic, and what Jackson and Stiles said afterwards, he called her and said he wanted them present for this one.  He isn’t happy with either Stiles or Jackson.

Stiles, Jackson, and Danny are heading here after school.  They had a study period in the morning, and then a chemistry exam in the afternoon.  That should be finished now, and Scott is already here waiting for them to arrive; given that he wasn’t at school.

 

When they arrive, he hugs Danny; pointedly ignoring Stiles and Jackson before heading through to the back office where Morrell is waiting.  He sees the hurt look on Stiles and Jackson, but he’s still angry with them.

Stiles sits in one of the chairs, Danny is in the other, leaving Jackson and Scott to sit on the couch; when Jackson rests his hand on Scott’s knee he moves his leg out from under Jackson’s touch, making Jackson whine at the loss of contact.  Morrell is perched on the end of the desk.

 

“Everyone here is aware of the reason that I have been counselling Scott over the last couple of weeks,” Morrell states, “However, he specifically asked that you attend this session today.  Scott,” she looks directly towards him, “Do you want to tell us why?”

“I…” Scott stumbles over his words as he starts, he knows he needs to tell them, he must get his anger and frustration out; this isn’t just about yesterday, it’s been brewing for the last couple of weeks, “They don’t listen to me!” he blurts out angrily to the shock of Stiles and Jackson.

“What?!” Stiles asks, only for Morrell to hold her hand up to silence him.

“Go on,” she encourages Scott.

“Yes, what happened the night of my heat was abuse; talking it through with Ms Morrell helped me see that, but the blame can’t be laid solely on the pack…”

“But they’re the…” Stiles interrupted, jumping from his seat.

“Stiles, let him finish,” Morrell instructed, her arched eyebrow daring him to continue his outburst.  Scott’s gaze flicks from Jackson to Stiles, waiting until Stiles sat back down huffily.

“Anyway, like I was saying, the pack was mad at me,” Scott ignores Jackson’s soft snarling and continues, “They had every right to be after the way I treated them, treated you,” he nods his head towards Stiles, “And dismissed your relationship with Derek…”

“If you’re going to start victim blaming yourself and saying you deserved to…” Jackson snarls beside him.

No!” Scott barks back at him, “See, you don’t listen to me.  I didn’t deserve what happened.  I’m not saying that.  What I’m saying is that I understand how it happened.  We’re werewolves.  Our emotions affect our ability to control our instinct and under the full moon our control is at its lowest.  And I’m not trying to say that makes it any less bad, or that I just forgive and forget; because I still don’t forgive myself for nearly killing you during the full moon when I attacked you,” Scott looks directly at Stiles, “But you gave me a chance to make it up to you; don’t they deserve a chance too?  And how would they ever get the chance if we don’t talk to them?”

“I…” Stiles starts to say.

“I’m not finished,” Scott interrupts him, “And then yesterday, Derek comes and warns me about this alpha pack that is after me, and how it sounded like he was going to do something stupid to try and protect me and you don’t take it seriously.”

“I said I’d call him and talk to him, I was gonna do it after school today,” Stiles says, and Scott just feels like his concerns are being dismissed again.

“Well today could be too late,” Scott shouts at him, “I went to his loft while you were at school.  The place was deserted, the smell of blood was everywhere,” he sees the sudden look of apprehension on Stiles’ face, and feels Jackson jolt beside him, “Derek’s most of all.  There were smashed chairs, a pipe ripped off the wall; there’d clearly been some sort of fight.  Was Isaac, Erica, or Boyd in school today?”

“I didn’t see them, but they’re not dead.  I can still feel the pack,” Jackson says, “It’s weak, but it’s been getting weaker since we split from the pack…”

“The only reason the alpha pack is going after Derek and the pack is because they think Derek claimed me!” Scott growls, “There’s no need for anything to happen to them; if Derek had told them he hadn’t then they’d be safe and…”

“No,” Morrell stops him, “If the alpha pack is in Beacon Hills, then none of us are safe.”

“What?  Why?” Stiles splutters; Scott can hear the worry in his voice.

“To become a member of the alpha pack the alpha has to kill all of their pack members, to take their power and become more powerful themselves.  They also need to kill their pack emissary…”

“Derek would never do that!” Stiles states clearly outraged at the suggestion, “And he said the alpha pack was here for Scott, not him…”

“The alpha pack will not just be here for Scott.  Deucalion, their leader, is always looking to increase his power.  If Derek doesn’t kill his pack and join them, then the alpha pack will kill everyone in, and connected to, the pack, and then Deucalion will claim Scott; regardless of Scott’s wishes,” Morrell coldly informs them, “They are a threat.”

“I don’t want to be claimed by this alpha pack,” Scott tries to keep the rising panic out of his voice, “I’d rather be claimed by Derek; he’s…”

You’re not getting claimed by any alpha… pack,” Jackson growls.

“How are we going to stop that happening if I’m not already claimed,” Scott queries him, “Especially,” he looks down, blushing as he remembers how his body reacted, “When I’m in heat…”

“We’ll find a way,” Stiles states emphatically.

“Scott,” Morrell claims everyone’s attention, “Earlier you said that you weren’t ‘just forgiving and forgetting’ what happened, and that you thought that Derek and his pack deserved another chance,” at everyone’s furrowed brows and silence, she continues, “And just now you said you’d ‘rather be claimed by Derek’.”

“Yeah?” Scott responds to her statement, somewhat confused.

“Do you want to be claimed by Derek?” she asks.

“Do I have a choice?” he replies; he knows that during his heat he expected it, and was disappointed when he woke the next morning to find Derek hadn’t claimed him.  And maybe if Stiles would try and work things out with Derek, cut Derek the same slack that he gave him over the full moon, he’d be somewhere closer to wanting to be claimed than he is.  But he knows one thing, “I don’t want to be claimed by the alpha pack; from what you said I know that won’t be good.”

“There is a potion that could fake Scott being claimed,” Morrell informs them.

“But,” Danny adds, “You’d need a willing alpha to provide one of the ingredients.”

“I’ll talk to Derek,” Stiles says, sounding somewhat reluctant to Scott, “What do we need from him?”

“How are you going to find him?” Scott asks.

“I do have a bond with him,” Stiles retorts, “Faint as it may be, I think I know where to find him.”

“I’ll go with you, and bring the vials to collect what we need, and the other ingredients,” Danny says.

 


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“Seriously?” Stiles quips when he finds Derek, and Isaac, exactly where he thought he would; back at the deserted train depot.  Then he notices the slight limp in Derek’s walk as he turns around in the open doorway of the subway carriage and walks back inside.  Stiles follows him, and Danny follows Stiles.

“What are you doing here, Stiles?” Derek gruffly asks, but there’s no bite to his tone.  He looks pale, tired, and in pain.

“What happened?” Stiles blurts out; his anxiety levels rising as he sees Isaac cowering in the corner of the train car, he’s cradling his arm.  Stiles turns his attention back to the alpha, he can feel the anger and sadness rolling off him, “Derek?”

“You shouldn’t have come here,” Derek softly says, “I’m trying to keep them away from you, and your… pack.”

“Holing up, back in this rust bucket?  How is that keeping Scott, Jackson, Danny, and me safe from the alpha pack?  And how is it keeping the four of you safe?  And where is Erica and Boyd?” Stiles rattles back at him, his gaze flicking back to Isaac as he whimpers at the mention of Erica and Boyd.  “What happened to Erica and Boyd?  Where are they Derek?  Jackson said he could still feel the pack, but it was weak…”

“And what do you feel Stiles?” Derek practically snarls as he turns to face him, “As the mate of the alpha you should be able to feel the pack too.”

“I… I tried to block the pack, and the bond with you,” he admits, “It was too much after what… after Scott’s heat,” he looks down at the ground, unable to meet Derek’s eyes, his voice is barely audible as he continues, “When I let myself feel the bond to find you… it felt like there was barely anything there.”  He hates the broken whine that his words elicit from Derek; before he can say or do anything Derek has bolted past him and is running from the derelict depot.

“Stiles…” Danny starts.

“Not now, Danny,” he replies, turning his attention to Isaac, “Are you okay?” he asks, noting that Isaac hasn’t moved or said anything since he walked in.

“I… I’m fine,” Isaac mumbles, not looking up at Stiles.

“Clearly; NOT,” Stiles stares down at him, “I need to know what happened, and what stupid ass plan Derek has come up with…”

“Please Isaac,” Danny interrupts Stiles ranting and kneels beside the beta, “We’re going to need to work together if we’re going to stand a chance against this alpha pack; you know that, right?”

Isaac slowly nods his head.

“So, come on,” Stiles jumps in, “Tell us what happened at the loft, and where Erica and Boyd are…”

“They took them,” Isaac says, his voice just loud enough for Stiles to catch, “I wasn’t there.  I was with Morrell, and when I got back…” he sobs at the memory of what he returned to; the smell of blood thick in the air, the scent of the other pack in their home, and Derek… “Derek was lying on the floor, there was blood everywhere, the pipe… the pipe was right through him, he’d started to heal around it… I had to rip it out of him, and he bled even more… I thought he was going to die… there was no sign of Erica or Boyd… he told me… he told me the alpha pack had taken them, and we were going to have to find them and bring them back,” he looks up at Stiles, “But we’re not strong enough, he’s not strong enough; he’s not healing properly, he hasn’t been… since… the full moon, he’s been losing control more, like he lost his anchor.”

Stiles nods.  He gets the implication.  He’s been losing control too, of his spark, since the full moon.  He’s Derek’s anchor, just like Derek gives him focus.  Their bond tying them together.  Only it’s unravelling.

“We’ll get them back,” Danny tells Isaac.

“That’s what Derek said,” Isaac quietly responds, “They’re our pack; we’ll get them back, or we’ll die trying.”

“Dying isn’t an option,” Stiles states.

 


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“We should have…”

“No Scott,” Jackson disagreed with him, again, “Stiles and Danny can meet with Derek on their own.  You need to stay here.  It’s only a week to the full moon, and with this alpha pack around you…”

“But I’d have been safe with you, Stiles, and Danny,” Scott whines, “And when we got to wherever Derek is…”

“I think the less people around when Stiles and Derek talk the better, don’t you?”

“I guess…” Scott concedes, clearly pouting.  Jackson tries to hide the smile that creeps at the corners of his mouth.

 

“Now, what subjects do you need to take over the summer?” Jackson asks as he throws himself backwards onto Scott’s bed.

“Huh?” Scott asks; Jackson watches the way Scott’s eyes travel up along his body and the hunger that starts to readily grow in them the closer they get to the full moon.  He knows exactly how to distract Scott and make him forget he’s angry at him.

“My clothes stay on until we talk about your school work, but you can get naked,” he tells him; knowing that Scott knows it’s not a suggestion.  He watches from the bed as Scott pulls his shirt over his head without unbuttoning it, unfastens his belt and kicks his sneakers off at the same time, then pulls down his jeans revealing the white lace panties and stockings; the stay-up ones that can be worn without a garter belt.  He sees him blush and bite his lower lip as the low wanton growl escapes from between Jackson’s lips at the sight.  Once Scott’s naked and has placed his clothes in the hamper Jackson sees him notice that he left the curtains open at his window.

“They can stay open,” Jackson says, as Scott moves to quickly close them.

“But…”

“You decided to leave them open while getting naked, so they can stay open,” he smirks at the blushing naked boy; who smells of embarrassment and arousal as he stands at the foot of the bed.  “Now,” he smirks at him, “What subjects do you need to take?”

“Biology, Chemistry, Math, English, and Social Science,” Scott answers, his hands hovering in front of him, covering his sex, as he shifts from one foot to the other; fighting his inclination to move out of view of the window, “Why?”

“Because I’m taking charge of your home schooling to make sure you’re ready for the exams.  So, you can expect punishments for not keeping up, and rewards for when you do.  And I have a copy of your kink list and your porn folder to work from; thanks to Stiles.”

“Oh,” is Scott’s only response.

“Now, you can crawl up here and undo my belt,” he smirks at him, as Scott moves his hands towards the belt he adds, “With your teeth.”

 

Jackson moves to position himself in the centre of the bed, his fingers interlaced behind his head as he rests against the headboard and watches Scott crawl up between his legs, the tip of his tongue wetting his lips as he eyes Jackson’s belt and contemplates how to unfasten it.  He struggles until he manages to grip the end between his teeth and push it back through the loop, then biting on the leather and pulling it back to release the clasp.

“Good boy,” Jackson praises him, “Now the button,” he smiles lasciviously.

By the time Jackson has had Scott pull his underwear down, with his teeth, his cock his hard and leaking.

“Take the head in your mouth and suck,” he commands him.  Scott is straddling his legs where they are still covered with his pants; his pants and underwear caught around his knees.  Scott leans down and takes the head of his cock in his mouth, his hands holding onto Jackson’s hips; Jackson groans his desire as looks down over the naked boy slurping on his hardness.

His hands move from the back of his head and he reaches down to caress Scott’s back, sliding back up over his shoulders and down over the skin of his chest until he rubs against the tips of Scott’s nipples.  He feels Scott’s reaction as his groans of pleasure vibrate through his cock still in his mouth. 

He pinches the nubs between his fingers, pulling on them and tweaking them as he thrusts up into Scott’s mouth.  Scott’s own hips thrusting against the air trying to find something, anything, to rub his mound against as he mewls his need around Jackson’s cock.

 

He pulls Scott off his cock and switches their positions so that Scott his under him; Scott whines at the loss of contact as Jackson shucks off his shoes, pants and underwear before settling himself between Scott’s outstretched legs.  His shirt rubbing against Scott’s sensitive nipples as he leans in and takes his mouth in a kiss, and his cock slides easily into the wet clenching warmth of his pussy.

Scott arches back in his embrace as he thrusts into him, his neck stretched taut in offering as Jackson plunges into him.  It takes all of Jackson’s willpower not to bite down on him, claiming him as his mate as his knot swells and locks them together.  Scott clenching tightly around the base of his cock as he shudders through his climax, and Jackson’s shallow thrusts rubs against his overstimulates clitoris; and he fills him with his seed.

 


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Derek stalks around the edge of the depot.  He’d thought that three hours would be enough time for Stiles to give up and go home.  He was wrong.  Stiles scent is still strong; he’s still in the carriage with Isaac.  As is the boy who was with him; Jackson’s friend, Danny.

Both of them smelling so strongly of Jackson and Scott; like a pack.  When Stiles admitted that the bond with his pack ‘felt like there was barely anything there’ it tore him apart.  He’s not certain he can face going back into the subway car, but it doesn’t appear that Stiles is going to give him any option other than dealing with whatever reason he’s here for.  Taking a deep breath, and exhaling, he strides to the carriage.

 

“Finally decided to stop skulking around in the shadows?” Stiles smirks as he steps into the compartment.

“Why are you still here?” he bites back, staying on the opposite side of the car from Stiles he sits on one of the seats.  Stiles looks across at him from where he’s sitting; Danny lying on the seat next to him sleeping, and Isaac on the opposite seat also asleep.

“Do you have any idea where the alpha pack is holding Erica and Boyd?” Stiles asks; ignoring his question.

Derek scowls at him.

“Thought not,” Stiles retorts, “And with no idea where the alpha pack is, or where they’re holding them, what is your plan?”

“To get them back,” he all but snarls.

“You and Isaac, alone, against a pack, a pack, Derek, of alphas!” Stiles seethes back at him.

“Yes,” Derek huffs, “I’m their alpha, I’m supposed to protect them, I have to get them back.”  He ignores the dampness at his eyes, “I can’t fail them too.  I have to get them back.”

“Scott said you were planning to skip town, to lead the alpha pack away from him…”

“Yes, once I…”

“That won’t work,” Stiles interrupts him, “They stick around and catch Scott’s scent they’ll know he’s not been claimed by you.  If they kill you they know any claim is gone.  And from what Morrell told us, you either kill your pack and join them, taking Scott with you, or they kill everyone anyway.  So, new plan.”

“And what’s that?” Derek asks.

“We work together to track down the alpha pack, we free Erica and Boyd, and we kick the alpha pack out of town…”

“Just like that?”

“No, but my pack and your pack need to work together or none of us are going to survive it,” Stiles says, and Derek tries to cover the twinge of hurt he feels at his words; ‘my pack and your pack’.

“And if we survive, then what?” he asks, looking at the floor of the carriage.

“Then we see where we go from there.”

He tries not jerk his head up to look at him; tries not to let that glimmer of hope spark inside him.  He fails.

 

“Good, now that’s settled we need to address the issue of Scott not passing the ‘claimed by an alpha’ sniff test,” Danny surprises Derek; he’d not realised the boy had woken.

“I don’t think Scott wants to be claimed by me,” Derek protests, “So…”

“Well, I think he does,” Stiles corrects him, and Derek can’t help the startled look he gives him, or stop the growing kernel of hope, which Stiles dashes with his next words, “But only because he doesn’t think he has a choice given the alpha pack believe you already have, and that he’d rather it was you than them.”

“So, what am I supposed to do then?” Derek demanded.

“We need you to fill this,” Danny smiles at him, handing over a plastic specimen vial he takes from his backpack.

“With what?” Derek inquires, noticing the blush of colour on Stiles’ face.

“Your semen,” Danny informs him, “I also need a sample from Stiles, as he’s your mate; an I mix them with the other ingredients of the potion that will fake the claiming.”

“What?” Derek stammers, as Stiles exclaims, “You expect me to fill one of those?!”

“No,” Danny laughed, “You’re not a werewolf; I just need you to fill a third of the vial I gave you.  And I’ll need to make a new batch for Scott after each of his heats,” Danny continues, “As they’ll burn off the effects of the potion.”

“You expect me to do this now?” Derek objected.

“The sooner I make the potion the sooner Scott can fool any other wolf that he’s claimed by an alpha and his mate,” Danny says, and turning to Stiles adds, “I’ll need you to get your sample to me tonight too.”

“Give me your shirt,” Derek demands of Stiles.

“What?”

“You’re still my mate,” he murmurs in embarrassment, “So your scent will… help.”

Stiles takes off his shirt, scowling at Derek the entire time, and throws it at him.

Derek stalks off to the furthest and darkest corner of the depot; he returns half an hour later and hands Danny the vial back.  It’s filled.

 


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“Why are we wasting time?” Ennis snarls at Deucalion, “We could take care of the Hale pack now, and claim the bitch during the next full moon.”

Aiden and Ethan attempt to melt into the background as the large alpha tries to loom over the demon wolf; Deucalion.

“We could certainly do that,” Deucalion calmly replies, his head turned directly towards Ennis’s rabid countenance with a cruel smile on his lips, “But we, and specifically you, will not.”

“Why are…”

“It’s quite simple; it is not part of my plan,” the alpha of alphas states, “Hale will kill his own pack, absorbing their power, and then his pack’s power will become our power.  You will not interfere with my plan, are we clear?”

“Crystal,” Ennis snaps back; turns and marches from the room.

 

When Ennis is out of the room, and his heart cannot be heard, Deucalion turns towards Aiden.

“Aiden, you’ll keep an eye on Ennis for me, I want to know when he makes his move against Derek,” he states.

“Yes, Deucalion,” Aiden nods in agreement; knowing just how much the blind wolf can see.

“Excellent.  Now, strip your brother and get the bitch wet for me,” he commands the younger wolf.

 

Chapter Text

 

The sheriff’s cruiser wasn’t in the drive when Stiles parked his jeep.

“My dad must still be working,” Stiles contemplates, turning to Danny, “So, hopefully we’ve got time to finish the potion so it’s ready for Scott in the morning.”

“Well, we just need the final ingredient,” Danny smirks as they walk into the house through the front door, “I’ve got the echinacea, violet, mandrake root, cypress, saffron, dandelion, and Derek’s…”

“Yeah, well, you can wait down here while I get the final ingredient,” Stiles declares.

“You do realise,” Danny comments as Stiles starts climbing the stairs, “That it’s less than a week to the full moon and Scott’s next heat; we’ll have to make another batch of the potion for him the day after his heat.”

“Yeah,” Stiles says turning to look at the Hawaiian elf, “But we need Scotty protected now.  We don’t know when the wolves of the alpha pack are going to make their move, and if they find out he’s not tied to Derek’s pack…”

“They take him and claim him,” Danny finishes for him.  Stiles jogs up the rest of the stairs to his bedroom; leaving Danny to head into the kitchen to start mixing the potion.

 

Stiles let’s himself fall onto the edge of his bed, and sits there with his elbows on his knees as he leans forward and runs his hands through his hair.  He hadn’t been ready.  He certainly hadn’t been ready to see Derek like that; to feel how broken he was.

He was still angry with the man; he didn’t want anything to chip away at his anger.  Not yet.  But seeing how defeated Derek was, and hearing from Isaac how his plan was ‘to get Erica and Boyd back or die trying’; dagnammit, what sort of plan was that?!

Just because he wasn’t ready to forgive the pack and Derek for what they did, it didn’t mean he never would.  He just can’t trust and forgive people as easily as Scotty can, and Scott knows that; so, why is he pushing so hard for Stiles to give Derek a second chance?

And Stiles wants to.  He wants to trust Derek again, and he knows that Scott has a point about the effect of the full moon on werewolves.  But, Derek is the alpha, he should have had more control, of his betas and of himself.

He knew before he even went to the train depot that he still cared for Derek.  It’s why these past weeks have been difficult; it’s why, actually, he wanted to avoid being in his presence.  It took all his willpower to stop himself from wrapping his arms around the sour wolf and comforting him when he saw how much he is hurting, and he knows their separation is causing some of that hurt, because of their shared mating bond.  He feels it too.  He may not be a werewolf, but somehow the bond is affecting him almost as if he were; he just doesn’t know why.  What he is sure of is that in some part the despair Derek feels, and why he has such a suicidal plan, is because of their bond.  It’s why he gave him that glimmer of hope of rekindling their relationship, to lessen the despair.  Only, it wasn’t just for Derek; it was for him too.

 

He looks across at his bedside table and sees the vial Danny gave him sitting there.  Waiting.

“Let’s get this over with,” he says to himself.

 

Unfastening his pants, he pushes them and his boxers down to his knees.  He’s less than up to the task, but reaches for the bottle of lube and pours some onto his hand before taking himself in hand.  He thinks of recent encounters, which have only been with Scott.  And few that they are, have mostly just been making out; Jackson tends to get a little growly if he starts getting any further with him.  The closest Stiles has gotten to any part of him being inside Scott was the first time they used the tit suckers on him, when his fingers got to slide over his wet folds through the satin panties as he sucked on Scott’s ear.  The memory gets him started, and as he moans his arousal his thoughts take him memories of Derek writhing above him as he fucked into Derek’s tight ass gripping his hard cock and swallowing it whole; his fingers trailing up Derek’s hard abs and through the forest of chest hair to tweak at his pert nipples and… his free hand flails to the side to grab the vial as he suddenly finds himself reaching the point of no return.

 


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Noah Stilinski wasn’t sure what he was hearing as he listened to his son and his friend Danny talking in the kitchen.  They clearly hadn’t heard him come in.

“So, how do we store these potions before giving them to Scott tomorrow?” he hears Stiles ask as he walks towards the room.

“In the fridge, we just need to warm them up before he uses them,” the boy Danny replies.

“And how does he do that exactly?” Stiles queries, “We never covered how to use them.”  Noah was seriously wondering what his son was mixed up in this time.

“He drinks the contents of the larger vial, and smears the smaller one over his vagina, like a salve.”

What the hell were they talking about?  ‘His vagina’? 

“Okay let’s get this place cleaned up, and you back home, before my dad gets back.”

“Too late for that?” he says from the doorway, looking at a startled Stiles fumble with two vials of… something… and Danny grabbing them before they smashed.  “Want to explain what’s going on, and why you’re up so late on a school night?”

Danny quickly closes over the book laying open on the counter, but Noah notices the writing on the cover, ‘Koʻu buke o na kupua, a me mea inu’, not that it means anything to him; it just makes him more certain that something unto ward is going on.

“Dad, were just working on an assignment for chemistry class,” Stiles lies to him.  He knows it’s a lie because – one, they are nearly finished the school year and are sitting their exams, and – two, he’s the sheriff; he knows these things.

“Mieczyslaw…” Noah says, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“I don’t think your dad believes you,” Danny says to Stiles, adding, “Mieczyslaw?  Really?”

“Just don’t ever mention it,” Stiles stares Danny down, “Ever.”

“No more lies kiddo,” Noah confronts his son, bringing them back to the point, “I heard some of your conversation as I was coming in, and none of it made sense, but what I know for sure is that something is up, and whatever it is, it isn’t good.  So, spill.”  He could see Stiles starts to fold in on himself, biting at his bottom lip; it only increased his concern over what his son was mixed up in, “Stiles, talk to me please son?”

“I’ve been trying to keep you out of this for the last five months, since Scott got bitten.  All through the stuff with Peter and Kate, and then with Matt, Gerard, Jackson and the kanima,” Noah immediately got the references to the mountain lion attacks, the death of Kate Argent, and the murders committed by Matt Daehler; he gathered from what Stiles was saying that there was a connection, but he had no idea what Jackson Whittemore had to do with it, or what a kanima was.  His son was clearly getting stressed as the tears pooled at his eyes, “I’ve been trying to keep you out of it, to keep you safe…”

“Son,” he grasps Stiles by the shoulders, “I’m the parent. I’m the one that’s supposed to keep you safe; please just tell me what’s going on.”

 

Stiles steps back from him, he looks down at his clenched hand, opens it and says, «Lasair».  A small pool of flame appears in Stiles open palm, “Short version; I’m a wizard dad; and Scott’s a werewolf, he’s been cursed and some other bad werewolves are after him.”

“I need a drink,” Noah replies, “And a seat, while you tell me the long version.”

 


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Stiles hits the alarm off on his bedside clock, no convinced that he’s slept much through the night.  Unlike his bed partner.  Danny is stretching awake, cat-like, beside him.

After they had told his dad everything, and it was everything – he just didn’t have the energy to resist his dad’s interrogation – it was after one in the morning; Danny texted his parents to say he was staying with a friend, and somehow, they were okay with that.

“Morning,” Danny smiles all chipper and full of cheeriness, “You need a bigger bed, this isn’t wide enough for two.”

“Planning on being in my bed more often,” Stiles snorts at him, trying to ignore the broad, smooth chest laid out beside him.

“Well, now I know the wiry hot bod you hide under all those baggy clothes and hide in the locker room, so,” Stiles flails out of the bed, crashing to floor, as Danny laughs, “But, I wouldn’t want to get on the wrong side of your alpha werewolf mate.”

“Dagnammit,” Stiles groans as he thumps his head against the mattress; remembering how almost apoplectic his dad looked as he stumbled over being bonded to Derek; but forcefully mentioning several times that Derek didn’t initiate anything and it was all his own fault, “I’ve no idea how much of what we told him he believed and how much he thinks I’ve lost my mind; even with me casting a flame in my palm, but he looked ready to track down and skin Derek alive last night; and I… we need him alive.”

“Well, he did agree to go with us to McCall’s this morning while we deliver the potion, and I’m sure once he talks with Mrs McCall and Jackson goes all growly on him he’ll believe everything,” Danny reminds him, “And on the bright side at least when you cast that flame you didn’t set the kitchen on fire; given how unpredictable your magic has been lately.”

Stiles just groans at the image.

 


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“Boys, breakfast in fifteen minutes,” Scott hears his mom call, he sees Jackson startle awake beside him and doesn’t hide the smirk from his face at the blond wolf’s expression.

“And there’s no point trying to deny Jackson stayed the night, his car is still parked in the drive where it was when I got home last night,” she calls to them seconds later.

As Scott’s fingers play through Jackson’s chest hair, it occurs to him how much he likes Jackson’s scent, and how much he likes Jackson’s scent in his room; Jackson notices the distant look in his eyes.

“What’s wrong?” Jackson probes, his hand petting Scott’s arm as he tries to comfort him.

“Nothing,” Scott replies, “I just wish I still had chest hair; instead of being all smooth like I am.”

“I like that you’re all smooth from the neck down,” Jackson smiles at him.

“Wanna swap?” Scott snidely asks.

“No; I’d be touching myself all day…” Scott’s eyes widen at Jackson’s statement, and as he realises what he said his mouth opens and closes before he frowns at Scott, “Not like that,” he growls, leaning in and nipping at Scott’s jaw.

“We should move and get washed and dressed,” Scott laughs, “My mom said fifteen minutes.”

“Yeah,” Jackson smirks as he flips Scott over and lands a slap to his ass, before jumping from the bed and rushing to Scott’s bathroom.  Scott gasps at the smack, blushing furiously as he runs after Jackson.

 

When Scott enters the bathroom, he frowns at his reflection in the mirror; Jackson is brushing his teeth with a finger and some toothpaste and quizzes him with a narrowing of his eyes.

“I should get a haircut,” Scott explains.

“No,” Jackson spits out the toothpaste, “You should let it grow out like it was a few months ago.”

“But I was all floppy haired and…”

“It suited you,” Jackson says.

“I’ll think about it,” Scott considers, adding, “You know, you could leave a toothbrush and stuff here; for when you stay over.”

“We should get you some to leave in my room too,” Jackson smiles at him in reply; Scott ignores the little flip his heart does, and the smile that spreads across his face.

 

Jackson dresses in the same clothes he wore the previous day, though borrowing a pair of Scott’s boxers and socks that are now stored in the back of his closet; Scott pulls on a black satin camisole that cuts off just below his belly button, a pair of matching satin mini tanga panties, and he slips into the dormie damask slippers that Jackson bought him.

“We should head down to breakfast,” Jackson growls in Scott’s ear as he scents against his cheek, making Scott’s smile grow as he runs his fingers over Scott’s exposed smooth belly, “Before I can’t control myself.”  Scott doesn’t think about the smile that doesn’t leave his lips as they walk downstairs.

 

“So, I had a call from Stiles’s dad while you two were getting dressed,” Scott’s mom says as they sit at the table while she plates up the breakfast, “Apparently, he’s coming over this morning with Stiles and Danny, as he walked in on them discussing the potion they were making for you,” she looks at Scott, “And how it would need to be applied to your…”

“My what?” Scott asks, he sees her roll her eyes and pointedly look in the direction of his panties, and it dawns on him, “Oh.  Why did they talk about that in front of his dad?!”

“I gather they didn’t know he was there, and then he had them tell him everything,” she answers.

“So, why is he coming over?” Jackson prompts.

“I don’t know…” she starts to answer.

“Stiles shouldn’t have told him everything,” Scott blurts out, an uneasiness rising as he worries about someone else knowing about the supernatural and about everything that has result from the changes to him, “It should be me that decides who knows about what happened to me…”  he feels his hand being grasped, and looks down to Jackson’s hand in his, both their claws extended; looking up to Jackson’s face he sees his electric blue eyes in his partially shifted face, and realises he is shifting himself.

“Scott, you need to calm down,” Jackson growls at him from between his fangs, as his mom says, “Honey, I’m sure Stiles can explain what he has and hasn’t told his father when they get here.”

 

Scott flees up to the safety of his bedroom, trying to control his sudden shift.  Jackson moves to follow him.

 


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“Jackson, I think you better wait here, and try and get yourself under control,” Melissa tells him as she moves to the bottom of the stairs; Jackson snarls, but despite the uptick in her heart rate she doesn’t move.  Both their attentions’ turns to the opening front door as the Stiles, Danny, and the sheriff walk in.  The sheriff immediately pulling his gun from its holster and aiming at the partially wolfed out Jackson.

 

“For crying out loud, put the gun away,” she shouts at the sheriff, as Stiles cries, “Dad, no, that’s Jackson,” adding as he turns to the blond wolf, “Who stole your bone and got you all growly?”

“You,” Jackson snarls at Stiles as he stalks towards him, “You upset Scott.”

«Ka maluhia, a me ke aloha», Danny chants as he grabs an atomiser from his bag and, stepping between Jackson and Stiles, sprays the contents at everyone in the room.

“What the hell was that?” Stiles shouts, as the sheriff lowers his gun, Jackson shifts back to human, and the general levels of tension in the room dissipates.

“Lemon for friendship, lime for protection, olives for peace, and pepper to get rid of negative energy,” Danny says, smiling at him, “It seemed like everyone needed to calm down before someone got hurt,” turning the last comment to Jackson.

 

“So, werewolves,” the sheriff says, looking between Jackson, Melissa and Stiles.

“Well, the only werewolves in the house are Scott and Jackson,” Melissa says, “Normally, they’re both better behaved…”

“Jacks has always been capable of getting a bit growly, even before he was bitten; especially if he doesn’t get what he wants,” Danny smirks, “But, given one of the reasons we’re here is to give Scott the potion…”

“What is this potion?” Melissa asks.

“Yeah,” Stiles steps in, “Ms Morrell mentioned a potion that would fake Scott having been claimed and being bonded to an alpha, so with the alpha pack that is after him it would protect him from being taken by him.”

“Alpha pack?” she asks, “What’s an alpha pack?”

“Stiles,” Jackson growls, “We hadn’t explained about that yet.”

“Why don’t we all go into the dining room and you can explain it now,” Melissa ushers them in the direction, her expression stern.

“While Jackson and Stiles take care of explaining that,” Danny intercedes, “Do you mind if I go up to Scott’s room and give him the potion?”

“I guess not,” Melissa replies.

 


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Scott had run to his room and buried himself under the bedcovers; wrapping him in the scent of Jackson and himself that calmed him and made him feel safe.  He ignored the voices downstairs; certain that Jackson had reacted to his pheromones, and that was the reason for his anger.  He knew Stiles and his dad were here now, he just didn’t want to deal with any of it.

He ignored the knocking at the door, and didn’t try to scent who it was; he didn’t want to deal Stiles or the sheriff right now.

“Scott,” Danny’s voice called from the other side of the door, “Can I come in?  It’s just me, everyone else is downstairs.  I have the potion that I made at Stiles’s with me.”

“Just you?” Scott poked his head up from under the covers.

“Just me.”

“Okay.”

 

Danny cautiously enters the room and closing the door places a hand against it.

«leo hāmau mao aku», he intones, “That will stop anyone listening in,” he smiles at Scott.

“Why do you need them not to hear us if you’re just giving me the potion?” he frowns at Danny.

“Because, I’m going to give you an option,” Danny smiles at him as he sits on the edge of Scott’s bed, “Ms Morrell mentioned the potion to fake the signs of you being claimed by an alpha, but there is another potion, one that would temporarily create the claim and bond you to the alpha.”

“What?”

“It’s possible that Morrell doesn’t know about it, and I didn’t mention it yesterday as you were already upset at Jackson and Stiles for not listening to you.  I wanted to give you the choice on which potion you take, and not have them make the decision for you.”

“Why would they have a problem with me having the temporary bond?”

“Because you will be bound to Derek as a beta in his pack; connected to him and the pack just as if he was your alpha and your pheromones will only affect his pack,” Danny explains, “Given their understandable worry after what happened they may not think it’s a good idea; they are both still angry with the pack and, from how they reacted yesterday at the session with Morrell, it’s clear they don’t want you interacting with them.  But, I thought you’d want to decide for yourself.  The other potion will just mask your scent so that other werewolves will not be able to tell you aren’t bonded unless your pheromones start to affect them.  With the potion for temporary bond, you won’t be able to be claimed by another alpha until it wears off, with the fake bond potion you will be if they try to claim you during your heat or using the ritual.”

“Which one did you make?”

“The temporary bond, but I just need to add two more ingredients to it to make it the other potion; one to negate the bond and the other to create the illusion of a bond, and I have those here,” he pats his bag, “The effects of both potions burn out during your heat, and we’ll need to make more and apply it again after your heat.”

“Apply it?”

“There’s two parts, one you drink the other is a salve that needs to be rubbed into your vagina,” Danny says, blushing, “Not something I’m used to rubbing, but it might be safer if you are lying down and someone else applied the salve; I’m not sure exactly how either potion will take effect.”

 

Scott considers his options; and is conflicted in his thoughts.  On the one hand, taking the potion Danny has made will protect him from being claimed by another alpha, but as much as he wants the protection from the alpha pack he isn’t sure he wants to actually be bonded to any alpha; not until he trusts them the way he trusts Jackson and Stiles, and Danny.  On the other hand, having Danny alter the potion to fake the bond will only protect him in as far as disguising his scent, but it will mean he won’t feel that pack bond that would tie him to the alpha; but if anyone reacted to his pheromones they’d know he wasn’t truly bound to Derek and his pack.

“The temporary bond,” he tells Danny, “I don’t want to risk them reacting to me and knowing I’m not really claimed.”

“Okay,” Danny smiles at him, “If you’re sure.”

“I’m sure.”

“Okay, then slip off your panties, and sit on top of the bed,” Danny instructs him.  Once he has taken off his panties and is sitting on the bed, Danny hands him the larger vial.  Scott takes a whiff of the potion and wrinkles his nose.

“What’s in it?” he asks.

“You might want to drink it before you know,” Danny answers as he uncaps the smaller vial with the more viscous part of the potion.  Scott downs the mixture, his face screwing up at the texture as he swallows, before looking to Danny for an answer.

“It’s various herbs to promote protection, peace, inner strength, and a psychic bond,” he says, “But the main components are Derek’s and Stiles’s semen.”

“I just drank Stiles’s come?” Scott exclaims, his eyes widening in surprise.

“Yeah, now lie back while I massage the rest into your vagina,” Danny grins at him.

 

Scott lies back as Danny pours the second part of the potion on his fingers, then he feels the gentle touch as Danny slides them over his mons and down over his labia.  Danny’s finger slides back up over the outer lips of his vagina and Scott gasps at the sensation.  More slipperiness flows between Danny’s fingers and Scott’s skin, he’s not sure if it’s from the vial or himself, and the fingers push against his clit and drag down over his lips to his perineum, pushing back against his ass before sliding back up and swirling around his labia.

Scott pushes up into the touch and his rewarded with the finger slipping between his lips and Danny’s thumb brushing against his clit, pushing hard against it.

“Ngh, ah,” he gasps as he grasps the bedsheets in is fist, thrusting his hips up onto Danny’s fingers.  His thoughts drift back to when he first changed, and Derek’s fingers in him, as Danny’s thumb teases his clit, wagging back and forth over it, the satin of his camisole brushes over his enlarged nipples, the sensation reminding him of Derek biting and sucking on them; pushing him closer and closer…

“Argh, alpha,” Scott shouts as he shudders through the intensity of the sensations thrumming through his body; his vision whiting out.

 


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Derek’s head snaps up, as the feeling forms in the back of his mind.  He can sense him there; Scott, his beta.  But it’s not just the new bond with Scott, there is Danny too, and he feels the bond with Stiles and Jackson strengthening as the bond with Scott solidifies.

Looking across at Isaac he sees him become aware of the new and strengthening connections too.  Derek feels his pack growing stronger, and it gives him hope of setting things right.

 

Chapter Text

 

 

“I think the potion has worked,” Danny says as his fingers still against Scott’s outer lips.

“Yeah,” Scott languidly responds, pulling Danny down beside him on the bed, “I can feel Derek, and everyone; but Erica and Boyd are so faint…”

“I…” Danny starts to reply as the door to the room flies open.

What the hell did you do?!” Stiles yells at Danny, as he and Jackson walk into the room; Jackson growling low at the scene on the bed; Scott naked from the waist down, and Danny lying beside him, his hand still covering Scott’s modesty.

“What Scott asked me to,” Danny replies, cocking an eyebrow defiantly at the two standing by the door.

That was not a fake bond,” Stiles seethes at him, “When we were talking with Morrell, she talked about a potion to create a fake bond…”

“Yes, she did,” Danny pushes himself up, from where he is leaning against Scott, to sit on the edge of the bed; as Scott pulls his legs up, sitting behind Danny, Danny continues, “And I gave Scott the option of having the fake bond, or having a real temporary bond.  He chose…”

We should have discussed this before you decided…” Stiles rages at him.

No, we shouldn’t have,” Danny cuts him off, “It was not your decision, Jackson’s decision, or mine.  It was Scott’s decision.  Both of you seem to have forgotten that it wasn’t you that was abused, it isn’t you who are at risk of being claimed by any alpha that decides to rape you during your heat, and it isn’t you who don’t have a connection to a pack.  You,” he looks directly at Stiles, “Were already connected to Derek; you’re his bonded mate.  And you,” he turns his gaze on Jackson, “Still recognise him as your alpha.  Scott is the one most at risk here, and he is the one that had no bond to Derek and the pack, so he is the one most affected by the temporary bond.  It was his decision to make, and he has.”

 

Scott watched the exchange from his position behind Danny; saw his mom and Stiles’s dad arrive and hover by the doorway, and wished he had more clothes on.  He felt his turmoil grow as Danny, Stiles, and Jackson argue, and knew that he had to stop the fight before it tore his pack apart; he just wished someone could tell him how he was supposed to be a pack mediator.  It was tied to his pheromones as an intersex beta, but no-one has told him how to use them; does he just think happy thought?

“Guys,” he shouts at them, as he internally chants ‘happy thoughts, happy thoughts’ in his head, “Please stop fighting.  I know you want to protect me,” he looks to Stiles and Jackson, “And Danny does too, you know that, right?”  He waits until they start to mumble their concurrence, and starts speaking again before they can say any more, “But Danny’s right.  Despite my… our pack dynamic,” Scott doesn’t want to get into talking about his submission, or any other kinks, in front of his mom or Stiles’s dad, “I need to be the one to decide.  And as much as this is about keeping me safe from the alpha pack; we need to work with Derek and the pack to keep us and them safe.”

 

“You make it sound like I’m mad because I don’t like the decision you made,” Stiles replies.

“That’s because you are,” Danny answers.

“First, I’m talking to Scott, and he can answer for himself,” Scott notices the accusing raised eyebrow Danny aims at Stiles, which Stiles chooses to ignore as he continues, “Second, I’m upset because it doesn’t matter what our dynamic is; what matters is we are supposed to be a pack, which means you talk to us about these things before you make a major decision that affects all of us.  But I suppose talking to us about your decisions before you make them would require you to actually trust us first.”

“I find your lack of trust disturbing,” Scott retorts, “It’s not like you have any faith in me.”

“What?” Stiles has a look of confusion, “Did you just deliberately misquote Darth Vader at me?  And that doesn’t make any sense, I do trust you.”

“Yeah, that’s why you just said I had to run everything by you and Jackson before you decide if I can do something that affects me and will protect me,” Scott huffs at him.

“Something major that affect us, your pack, too,” Stiles counters his argument.

“You already have a bond with Derek, so does Jackson,” Scott points out, “Like Danny said, I am the one that needs a bond with him, I’m the one this most affects.  Why am I not allowed to decide to protect myself from the alpha pack?”

 

There is silence.  Jackson’s jaw working overtime as he grinds his teeth, and Stiles’s brow is knitted together, his eyes drawn to sharp slits.  Neither of them looks happy.

“Scott’s right,” everyone in the room startled and turns in the direction of the doorway, where Stiles’s dad has spoken, “Something that directly affects him should be his decision; but if it affects other people too, then maybe they should at least have had a heads up.”

“As your mother, I am one of those affected, and I would have hoped you would have at least asked my opinion,” Melissa adds, “But, if this temporary bond with Derek and his pack will keep the alpha pack from being able to force themselves on you, then I think it’s the only decision you could make.”

The tension in the room drops.

“Yeah.  I never said it wasn’t your choice Scotty, just that we should have talked about it,” Stiles agrees, “It makes sense, but the sudden strengthening of the bond with Derek was… a bit of shock.”

“Understatement,” Jackson adds; though he still glares at Danny, which Scott can’t work out why.

“Trust works both ways though Scott,” Stiles states, “But, making this decision on your own is a pretty clear sign that you don’t trust us.”

“This wasn’t about not trusting you, you know I trust you,” Scott tries to signal with his eyes how he obviously trusts them enough to submit to them, “I just made a decision, that affected me, for myself.”

“And, the reason you can’t unilaterally decide how to protect yourself from the Alpha pack is pretty simple,” Stiles adds, walking over to Scott, “You’re not the only one whose life is on the line.  We love you.  So, if you do something stupid, and put your life in danger we will always come for you.”.”

“So,” Melissa interjects into the silence that follows, “Don’t you guys have exams to take or something?” she asks the three fully dressed boys in the room; leading to panicked exclamations and a sudden exit from the McCall house, leaving Scott to slump back in his bed with a smile.  He was safe from the alpha pack; at least for the next six days.

 


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Stiles drums his fingers on the table, earning him a glare from the librarian, and the other students around him; he stops drumming his fingers and clenches his fist instead.

He has a study period before his first exam of the day and came to the library to make use of the extra study time.  Only his thoughts are constantly drawn back to the events of the morning.  To the pack bond that exists, and the changes the potion has made to it.

 

Of course, Danny was right, when he said that Stiles already had a connection with Derek and the pack because of their mating bond.  The mating bond that Stiles had initiated, when he had bitten into Derek’s neck causing the alpha to react on instinct and claim him too; with a matching bite to Stiles’s neck.

And now that connection is not the dull fuzzy awareness that it had become in the last few weeks, but was startling sharp and clear; super OLED high definition.  He has to shield himself from the emotional feedback from Derek, and he’s aware that Derek is trying to shield his emotions from Stiles.  It’s clearly difficult for the both of them; more than it was when the mate bond was first formed.  He can sense Scott, Jackson, Danny, and Isaac clearly; not as sharply focused as his mate, but he’s aware of them and how they are feeling.  Like Scott this morning, feeling on edge during the argument and then safe and secure when it ended; whereas now he’s simmering on the edge of horny.  Erica and Boyd feel dim and distant; other than they are there, he is getting nothing emotionally from them.  And that makes him worried, or it’s making Derek worried; no, it’s making them both worried.  Just why does the alpha pack think that keeping them separated from the rest of their pack make Derek kill them?

 

All of this is a problem for Stiles.  He didn’t want the clarity of empathy that the bond is providing.  How is he supposed to process and deal with his own emotions over what happened when he’s feeling their guilt as well?

And it’s not that Scott’s argument isn’t valid, ‘We’re werewolves.  Our emotions affect our ability to control our instinct and under the full moon our control is at its lowest’; or ‘you gave me a chance to make it up to you; don’t they deserve a chance too?’ because he knows Scott’s right.  But he’s not ready for that yet.  Is it so wrong to want to just be angry, with himself as much as Derek, for a little while?  It’s not right for them to pretend they didn’t do anything wrong… and of course, that’s the worst part.  The more he thinks about coming to terms with his feelings in his own time, the more he realises just how many other mistakes they both made when Scott first turned.

 

Stiles phone vibrates in his pocket, the alarm he set for his exam; he packs up his books and heads to put them in his locker before heading to the exam room.  He just wishes he’d taken a couple more Adderall this morning; his ability to concentrate on his exam his severely compromised thanks to the effect of the potion.

 


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Ethan is curled in on himself on the bed as he feels it dip, and his brothers arm wraps around him, pulling him back to rest against him.

“Are you okay?” Aiden’s voice is quiet, next to his ear.

“I’m always okay after… after they’ve finished with me,” Ethan lies; his brother’s responding whine making him turn in his arms, “It’s fine…”

“No, it’s not,” Aiden softly growls, “I should…”

“What?” Ethan prods him, “We’re only an alpha when we’re merged, and they couldn’t…” he can’t bring himself to say the way they use his body,” It’s not like you could stop them.  Deucalion taught us how to merge so we could kill our old pack because of how they used me and beat you, it’s only together that we’re an alpha, separately we’re still betas.  Still, it will all be over soon; once they get their claws into Scott McCall.  They’ve no use for betas in their alpha pack, especially if the bitch can’t carry their pups to term.”

“I’ll think of something,” Aiden promises him.  As much as Ethan wants to believe they can escape the alpha pack’s clutches, he can’t let himself hope.

 


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Scott’s bladder forces him out of bed; deciding to shower and dress he slips off the camisole and panties he put on earlier and adds them to the pile in his laundry hamper.  Grabbing his toothbrush, he brushes his teeth while he sits on the toilet seat, scrubbing the taste of Derek and Stiles from his mouth; and whatever else Danny said was in the potion.  Spitting into the basin, he turns on his shower, and takes a swig of mouthwash to rinse out and gargle with while waiting for the water to come up to the right temperature.

 

Stepping into the tub, under the shower, he lets the water soak into his hair, and cascade down his body, before picking up the shower gel, liberally pouring it out onto his hand, and starting to scrub the remnants of the potion from his lower body.  He feels the tell-tale tingle starting as his fingers slide over the outer lips.  No doubt he thinks from the closeness of the full moon and his heat, and from the memory of his cock usually getting hard, and him taking it in hand, when he showered; back when he had a cock.

He presses the heal of his palm against his pubis, his fingers curling and slipping between the lips; he bites at his lower lip as they tease at his clit, pulling a moan from his throat.

“Fuck,” he says to himself, “Danny got me off already, I shouldn’t be this horny still.”  He knows his heat is coming, but it’s nearly a week away, and he’s hugging his ‘pack’ all the time, though he still thinks without an alpha they aren’t a proper pack, and Jackson’s… being intimate with him every chance he gets.  He shouldn’t be feeling the effect of his heat this soon; he didn’t last time, it was only a few days before that he started being horny all the time.  The sudden worry dulls his arousal, enough to pull his hands from pussy, but not enough to kill his arousal completely.  He finishes washing as he considers what it might mean, and who to ask.

“Derek,” he voices aloud as he rinses the shampoo from his hair; the pack bond flaring slightly in his mind.  All he needs to do is figure out where he is and… his worry starts to turn to panic at the thought of meeting Derek in some secluded hideout, no, he can’t go there on his own; he needs to meet with him in public, where there’s a lot of people around.  That’ll work; now he just needs to figure out how to contact him.

 

He quickly dries himself with his towel and wrapping it around his waist he heads back into his bedroom to search for his phone.  He still remembers Isaac’s number from when Stiles programmed all of the packs numbers into their phones, and fires a quick text to him.

<Hey, Isaac, can you text me Derek’s number.  Scott>

Message sent it occurs to him he doesn’t know when Isaac will be able to get back to him, or if he even will.  So, he starts to get dressed.  Taking his sky-blue Paris lace panties and bra from his drawer, along with the sky-blue satin and lace garter belt.  He also picks a pair of white lace topped thigh high stockings.

While he’s straightening the seams of his stockings in the mirror his phone chirps, letting him know he has a message.

<925-240-5003.  Sorry.  Isaac.>

He sits on his bed staring at the message, at part of the message, and swallows the lump in his throat.  Then he sends a quick reply.

<Thnx.  Me too.  Scott.>

Quickly followed by a message to Derek.

<Please, meet me in the Los Charros at the corner of Main and 5th.  30min.  Scott.>

He figures he can get some lunch and meet with Derek at the same time.  He pulls on a white t-shirt, a pair of blue denim jeans, a navy-blue Hanes full-zip jersey hoodie, he doesn’t fasten the zip, leaving his white t-shirt showing.  He then slips on the navy-blue suede oxford shoes, with the rubber soles, that Jackson bought him.  As he finishes tying the laces his phone chirps again.

<Okay.> is the single word reply from Derek.  Scott thinks maybe this is going to be as difficult for Derek as it is for him

 


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When Scott arrives, there is no sign of Derek.  He’s hungry, and he’s not, but he hasn’t eaten yet so he orders himself a beef tostada, beef enchilada, and a diet coke; he takes a seat at one of the empty tables and as he takes his first bite of food he sees Derek walk in.  Immediately his heart thuds in his chest and he feels panic rising, Derek’s gaze swings to him, and something in his expression must make him rethink his decision to agree to meeting as he turns to the door to leave, and that makes Scott panic more.

“Derek!” Scott calls out to stop him; the alpha turns, his expression questioning, but he still walks over to the table.  “You should get some food,” Scott says, his phone suddenly ringing demandingly with Jackson’s ringtone, “Give me a few minutes to answer this, please?”  Derek nods and strolls over to the counter.

 

“What's wrong?!” Jackson demands as soon as Scott answers.

“Nothing,” Scott stammers, “I just…”

“Scott, what happened?!” Jackson insists, and Scott knows he can’t keep this from Jackson and Stiles; they’re going to have to know.

“I texted Derek to meet me for lunch, when he got here I w…”

“Derek’s at your house?  Why did you text him?” Jackson growls down the phone at him, “I’m…”

“No, we’re at a restaurant, I just got worried when he arrived.  I’m fine now.  I just need to ask him some things,” Scott hears a bell ring in the background, “Don’t you have an exam to go sit?”

“Where are you?  I’m coming to…”

“No, it’s fine.  Derek’s coming with his food, I’ll talk to you later; good luck with the exam,” Scott interrupts him and quickly hangs up.  He sets his phone to silent, as Derek sits across from him, and puts it back in his pocket, “Jackson.  He must have felt it when I got a little worried.”

“You looked more like you were going to have a panic attack,” Derek says, “Every instinct was telling me to run over and try to calm you, but I thought I’d only make it worse.  If you hadn’t called out to me, I’d have left.”

“I thought I wouldn’t be so on edge in a public place,” Scott mumbles, looking down at his plate, “Sorry.”

“You have nothing to apologise for,” Derek affirms, “Given what I put you through; I should have had more control than…”

“And I shouldn’t have fought being a werewolf, and my wolf’s instincts so much…”

“You also shouldn’t take every opportunity to tell people that everything is fine and nothing is wrong,” Derek says with a sad smile, “You had a lot to adjust to, especially as you never wanted the gift.  Not that you think of it as a gift…”

“No,” Scott wanly smiles at him, “I do now, sort of.  I don’t know that I would have accepted the bite if I’d been offered it, but I do get it now; that the wolf and I are the same.  If I hadn’t fought against being who I am…”

“The changes you went through after Gerard were a lot to deal with…”

“Yeah, but all Gerard did was curse me to go through my first shift and full moon again; the rest, losing my junk, getting heats and having periods, those are down to me; because of the things I repressed about myself.”

“But it’s not something that I imagine would be easy to accept, and not as quickly as I tried to get you to.  And not something you would have had to accept if you had never been bitten.”

“It wasn’t you that bit me; and it felt like everyone expected me to just accept I’d become intersex and that I was to be your concubine…”

“I’d never force you to accept a claim…”

“I know.  But,” Scott pauses, trying to find the words to explain, “The two occasions before my heat, when you and I… when you had me get naked… I didn’t feel like I had a choice except to do what you asked, and let you do what you wanted,” at Derek’s scandalised expression he quickly adds, “And it wasn’t because of you; I’d stood up to you and told you that you weren’t my alpha before.  It was my instincts just took over and I wanted to let you; it felt right that it was you.  And that scared me a lot.”

“I should have gone slower with you, explained more clearly…”

“We didn’t really have time, and I didn’t want to hear anything that didn’t agree with Stiles was going to find a way to reverse it.”

“I should have known you weren’t ready, but I was so focused on relying on my wolf senses to tell me you were, on some level, agreeable to what we did together that I ignored the obvious signs you were intimidated,” after a pause he adds, “Do you still want it reversed?”

“It’s not possible, is it?”  Scott isn’t really asking.

“No, I don’t believe it is.”

“Even the spells that Stiles found weren’t guaranteed to work, because the curse was just to go through the first change again.  And that had finished; it was over even before I went into heat.”

They sit in silence for a few minutes, nursing their mostly forgotten food, before Scott starts talking again.

“There are times I forget, you know… that everything is gone.  And when I remember I briefly wish I was still like I used to be.  But, I’m getting used to what I have now,” Scott blushes at the thought of how he’s getting used to his new body parts, “And I don’t forget as often.  I think a lot of that is because of Jackson and Stiles, and the sessions with Morrell,” his voice quiets to a whisper, “They made it easier for me to accept that the things I like aren’t bad, that it’s not wrong to like them.  And that made it easier for me to accept that they didn’t come from the wolf, and that the wolf wasn’t something separate from me.  If I had been able to accept it before…”

“It doesn’t matter, you’re not responsible for the way I treated you during your heat.  I should have had better control and not allowed my pack to… I let them loose on you without thinking of the consequences.”

“I know that,” Scott stops Derek; he can see the distress in Derek’s eyes, he can feel the remorse through the pack bond he currently shares, “I know that you and the pack are responsible for your own actions, I know that I wasn’t in a state of mind to consent.  But I need to accept responsibility for my actions too.  I didn’t treat Stiles, you, or the pack, with any respect before my heat.  I cut you all off and didn’t believe that you and Stiles weren’t trying to manipulate me.  If I hadn’t been fighting my own nature, if I had been willing to listen and hear the truth of how you felt about Stiles before my heat, then the loss of trust we now have, between Stiles and you, between me and you, between me and the pack, wouldn’t have happened; we wouldn’t be in a position of needing to rebuild that with the alpha pack breathing down our necks.”

“Blaming yourself doesn’t exactly seem to be a healthy decision,” Derek softly states.

“Yeah, but you’re not the only one responsible.  There’s enough blame to go around,” at Derek’s appraising look Scott adds with a smile, “The sessions with Morrell have given me some perspective.”

“Yes, she can certainly force you to look inside yourself and think,” Derek replies; at Scott’s inquisitive gaze he adds, “All of us, the pack, have been meeting with her; to help us deal with what we did.”  Scott nods, worrying at his bottom lip again.

“Your next heat is only a week away,” Derek says, getting nervous.

“That’s something I wanted to ask you about…”

“You can’t want… I can’t help you with that Scott, even if you really wanted me to, I can’t risk everything with Stiles over this, not even to help you.  Even if you consented he would never forgive me.  Not now, not so soon …”

“What?!  No, I…” Scott almost shouts, he’s still loud enough to draw looks from the surrounding tables, “No,” he harshly whispers, “I know I’m not ready for that; we need to work on trusting each other before that can happen.  Honestly, sometimes I wonder if it ever can…”

“And you want to do that?  Work on rebuilding trust between us?”

“Yes; if you want to,” Scott looks back down at his plate, “Everything seems so broken now.  I know I always fought accepting you as my alpha, even said in front of the pack that you weren’t my alpha.  But, the urge to submit to you as my alpha, it felt natural.  I barely had any control over my own emotions, and that scared me; I don’t want it to scare me.  I know it won’t happen overnight, or any time soon, but I want to work at making it happen.”

“Okay,” Derek faintly smiles at him, and Scott beams a smile back at him.  “So, what about your heat did you want to talk about?” Derek asks.

“You know you said that I’d need to be intimate with my pack, and that would lessen the effect of my heat on me,” Scott blushes as he looks at Derek, when the alpha nods he continues, “Last time I didn’t start feeling… the effect of it until a few days before the full moon, but this time I kind of feel like it’s starting to affect me already, and I have been being intimate with, well Jackson, and cuddling with Stiles and Danny, and…”

“It’s okay, I get the picture,” Derek swallows, and Scott feels his face heat with embarrassment, “Last time you were still fighting your instincts, so everything hit closer to the full moon; making it more intense.  This time, as you’re not stressed out and fighting it, the week leading up to the full moon you should start to feel the effects of your heat, but it will be the two or three days immediately before that it really starts to influence you; and it shouldn’t be as intense.”

“Oh,” Scott relaxes in his chair, “Thanks,” he smiles at Derek, before both of them turn to the scowling image marching towards them.

“Jackson?” Scott states in confusion, “You’re supposed to be taking an exam.”

“And you’re supposed to be at home,” Jackson growls, “Not having lunch with him,” he snarls in Derek’s direction, “After what he did to you.”  He grabs Scott’s upper arm, pulling him from his seat; Scott’s t-shirt is pulled tight, revealing the bra underneath through the thin white fabric of the shirt.

“Jackson, you need to calm down,” Derek conciliatorily replies, “Scott just wanted to talk and ask some questions…”

“He can ask me the questions,” Jackson snarls, stepping into Derek’s space, his eyes flashing blue and his claws digging into Scott’s skin.

“Jacks, you’re hurting me,” Scott whines, trying to ignore the stares they are getting from the other customers.

 

Jackson turns at the distress in Scott’s voice, seeing his claws piercing the fabric of Scott’s hoodie he immediately let go.

“I’m sorry I didn’t…” his words are cut off by Scott slapping his face.

“Why did you have to embarrass me like that,” Scott shouts, “Derek and I were just having something to eat and talking.”

Scott storms out; ignoring Jackson calling and chasing after him.

 


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Peter stares at the carved cylinder he holds, the top covered in the triskelion; fearful of opening it.  He knows what’s inside; the means to answer his questions.  He went to a lot of trouble to obtain it; it cost him a lot, quite literally.  It was at the bottom of a chest made of rowan, and filled with mountain ash.  He paid a human bounty hunter a small fortune to get it for him.

 

His only problem now is finding a werewolf he can trust.

 

His nephew can’t know he is back in Beacon Hills; not yet a least.  And he’s not going to trust any of the alpha pack with this.  Not with Talia Hale’s claws.

 

His sister was special, and an alpha of great power, courage, and compassion.  But she could also be a dominating, controlling, bitch, and she took some of his memories.  Now he wants them back and the only way is for a werewolf to use her claws and drive them into his neck just below his skull.

 

He smiles to himself as he thinks of a solution.  Thinking back to his previous meeting with the alpha pack, maybe there is someone in the Deucalion’s little menagerie that he can manipulate to do this for him after all.

 

 

Chapter Text

 

 

Scott lay on his back staring at the ceiling.  Stiles had an arm over his stomach, a leg entangled in his legs, and his face planted on Scott’s chest where he was drooling over the satin camisole he was wearing and lightly snoring.

Stiles had pretty much slept through the night; Scott not so much.  His sleep had been fitful, and his stomach felt like he’d eaten bad seafood; maybe it was the food at the restaurant, he started to feel unwell after he left and had his fight with Jackson.  And he just felt worse each hour that past since then.  Not that’s he has actually been ill, or thrown-up his lunch, he’s just felt like he needed to.  He didn’t even finish the enchiladas verdes de queso that his mom made for dinner; though Stiles helped out with the leftovers on his plate.  Of course, that got the worried look to appear on his mom’s face; though that started before they sat at the table when she asked if Jackson would be joining them tonight and he growled out a resounding ‘NO’.

 

His mom had left shortly after dinner, she had a late shift at the hospital again, and he expected Stiles to start quizzing him about why he met up with Derek and why he wouldn’t talk to Jackson or let the blond wolf in the house.  He didn’t.

Stiles just asked him if he wanted to play CoD or GoW on the Xbox.  He was grateful for that.  Even more so when Stiles stayed the night after a couple of hours of shooting everything in their path online; he helped make him forget how upset his stomach was.  The scent and touch of someone from his pack easing his discomfort.

 

As he tries to slide out from under Stiles without waking him, Stiles snuffles against the satin camisole before turning over and curling up against Scott’s side murmuring ‘five more minutes’; Scott slips from the bed and, making his way to his bathroom, throws his drool soaked camisole onto his laundry hamper.  He slips his panties down around his knees and sits on the toilet bowl.  Pulling them back up when he finishes, he washes his hands, brushes his teeth, and notices the tiredness in his eyes.  And how much his nipples stick out from his chest now, they’ve gotten much bigger since Jackson and Stiles started using the nipple suction devices on them; and more sensitive.

He heads back out to his room to put something on before he goes down stairs to get some breakfast; he’s not sure if his mom his back from work yet, he doesn’t remember hearing her come in.  Maybe he can make breakfast so it’s ready for her when she gets home.

 

“You know you’re going to need to talk about it eventually, right?” Stiles ambushes him as soon as he walks through the door.

“No,” he sulks.

“Scotty,” Stiles looks at him from the bed; his head tilted down so that he looks up through his eyelashes, almost as if he’s pouting, “It’s making you miserable, I can feel it through the pack bond, and so can everyone else; talking about it might make you feel better.”

“Jackson was an asshole,” he gripes as he looks through closet, pulling out the short, blue silk Kimono robe and putting it on.

“What did he do, exactly, that had you slamming the door in his face and refusing to talk, or listen, to him?”

“He pulled me out of my seat, my shirt was pulled, people could have known I was… they could have seen my bra…” Scott pauses in frustration as he tries to find the words, “You both agreed; you gave me the kink list to go through and I didn’t select public humiliation.  And he,” Scott’s left hand automatically grasps around his right arm where Jackson’s claws pricked his skin as he grabbed and pulled him.

“He hurt you?!” Stiles gasps, and Scott sees the realisation dawn, and anger light, in his eyes.

“He didn’t mean to,” Scott unexpectedly defends Jackson; he’s not sure why he feels the need to defend him.  Stiles eyes show disbelief at Scott’s words; and he’s not sure if Stiles doesn’t believe or doesn’t believe he’s excusing Jackson’s actions, because he doesn’t believe it himself.

“It’s hard to blame him for getting a little wound up,” Stiles relents, confusing Scott, because he doesn’t find it hard at all.

“I don’t, I told him I was okay; he didn’t need to track me down and growl at Derek and claw my arm,” Scott huffs his annoyance.

“Seriously?  Did you pay any attention when we were talking about trust yesterday?  We’re supposed to be honest and talk about these things before running off on our own.  Or are you forgetting that there’s an alpha pack out there that want to get their hands on you?  That they want Derek to kill his pack and hand you over to them?!”

“If I thought Derek was a threat I wouldn’t have gone to talk to him!” he shouts at Stiles.

“I never said Derek wanted to do any of that,” Stiles sighs, and Scott can hear the exasperation in his voice.

“You’re his mate, you know that better than anyone how he feels about what happened, how he wants a chance to make up for what happened,” he slumps down on the edge of his bed, glancing sideways at his friend, noticing the smattering of chest hair that leads to his treasure trail winding down over Stiles’s abs…

“And?” Stiles words drag his thoughts back to their conversation.

“Are you going to?” he asks.

“Nice try, but we aren’t talking about Derek and me; we’re talking about you and Jackson, and you taking off on your own where some alpha could have found you and done who knows what to you.  None of us would have had any idea where you were.”

“But I’ve taken the potion, there’s no reason for them to grab me?!”

“And you think that means you can go back to normal?  They want you, either with Derek as one of their pack of alphas, for which they want him to kill all his betas, or they can just kill all of them and Derek too.  Just because they think you’re a part of Derek’s pack doesn’t mean they aren’t still going to try get to you.  What’s stopping them from just taking you and using you as bait to get to Derek.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, oh.”  Stiles says, pulling Scott into the bed with him.  “Scott, I’m not trying to upset you, but I know Jackson.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You’re my best friend and I would do anything for you, and so would Jackson.”  Scott doesn’t quite hide the sceptical yet hopeful look that flits across his face at Stiles’s words, “So, do me one favour and imagine what Jackson would have done if the Alphas had grabbed you on the way to meet Derek?  And how long do you think he would have waited before coming after you?”

“Jackson’s a hot head,” Scott said relaxing into Stiles arms, “Stubborn fool probably wouldn’t even have waited long enough to call you for backup…” Scott said, trailing off at the implications of his own thoughts.

“Because there is no one is this world more important to us than you.  Look at me Scotty,” Stiles says, tilting Scott’s face upwards, “Neither one of us would ever think twice about risking our lives to see you safe, and you’re in more danger than you have ever been before.  I get Jackson was probably an ass, but if the main thing Jackson did to upset you was almost show people your bra strap, just try and remember that he’s just as scared as you are right now.  Probably even more.”

“I… I didn’t think about it like that, but I just needed to ask Derek something about my heat.”

“And there’s nothing wrong with that; but there are plenty of other ways you could have done that.  You could have sent him a text, or asked him when you talked to him on the phone.  Or just waited until Jackson or I were here to talk about it together, and if we didn’t know I could have asked him or Deaton, or we could all have gone and asked Deaton or Derek together?  I’m not trying to beat you up here Scotty, but you kind of chose the worst possible option here.  I mean, was the question that much of an emergency?”

“I…” Scott feels kinda stupid now.  It’s not as if it was that urgent; he just didn’t want to talk to Deaton about his heat or have Stiles searching the internet for answers when he’s got exams to study for, and didn’t think about the alpha pack, “I just thought it was something I should find out for myself instead of relying on anyone else.  I didn’t mean to worry everyone.”

“I know,” Stiles pulls him into a one-armed hug and kisses his temple before saying, “But being in a pack means we will always worry about you,” adding with a smile, “So next time try not to be such an idiot. And by the way Scott, I can’t speak for Jackson, but I like having someone to worry about.”

 

Scott turns to face Stiles, pulling his legs up onto the bed, wrapping his arms around Stiles’s back and resting his head on his shoulder, “You know, you should talk to Derek, right?  Give him a second chance to make up for the full moon, like you gave me.  I mean he is your mate.”

“We weren’t talking about…”

“We talked about me and my mistakes, now it’s time to talk about yours,” Scott smiles against Stiles’s neck, “I know you won’t be feeling the effects of the bond like Derek will, but you love him.  You…”

“It’s not about that…”

“But he’s your mate, you can’t just throw that away because of me,” Scott practically whines, “I’m never going to get to have a mate, but I know that if I did I’d want to hold on to them and never let go; and I can’t be responsible for you losing what you can have with Derek…”

“Scotty,” Stiles holds him by his shoulders and pushes him back slightly; Scott can’t meet his eyes, his face cast down, until Stiles takes him by the chin and tilts his head up to look him in the eye, “One, you aren’t responsible for what happened between me and Derek, two, whether or not Derek and I ever fix things, you forcing it to happen right away won’t make things better, and three, what makes you think you can’t have a mate?”

“I’m a sex slave?” he questioningly states, his face scrunched in confusion before he continues, “I am literally property.  Look, I read some of the bestiary stuff you sent me.  Whatever alpha claims me, if I’m lucky, I’m their concubine; mainly for them and their mate.  But, I’m essentially the  pack whore, I don’t get a say in who I sleep with.  Even if I’m identified as the mate of someone, I’m not even allowed to bond with them unless the alpha gives us permission.  Even then, it doesn’t change that I don’t have any free will in the pack.  If I have a mate bond before some alpha claims me, the alpha still has more rights over me than my mate.  Who’s going to want to bond with me when they can never really have me?  All I can tell someone is that they might or might not get the alpha’s sloppy seconds?”  Scott looks down at his hands, unable to face Stiles as he continues, “And…I like being with everyone in the pack, at least, I like the idea of how I think it would be, but all I’ve got to go on is how it was before my heat, with Derek and with Jackson, when I was with Derek during my heat, and what it’s been like since, with Jackson and you.  But, if I had a mate…I’d want it to be special…”

“Bro, I’d…”

“I was so scared of being what I am I denied it, fought it, kept not wanting it to be true, that I couldn’t see what was real between you and Derek.  If I’d even once used the abilities being a werewolf gave me to listen to you, to Derek, to Jackson, I’d have known…”

“Bro, listen to me,” Stiles demands, pulling Scott back towards him, into a tight embrace.  Scott feels the dampness on his cheeks, he isn’t sure when he started crying or why; he just holds on tightly to Stiles as he talks, “You have a mate, and he’s going to help me protect you from any alpha taking you if you don’t want them to.  And we’re not going to let any alpha or their pack ignore what you want; we’ll make sure your mate has as many rights as he wants. As many rights as you’re willing to give him.  Okay?”

“How?”

“We’ve known each other all our lives, Scott. Do you really think I will be out argued by some silly Alpha? You may be a slut, but you’ll never be a slave.” Stiles tries to cajole him.

“Okay,” Scott half-heartedly smirks at him.

“And, back to that blame thing Derek and I are not your fault.  I’m going to talk with Derek, he and I are going to get the pack back together, and if we can work things out we will.  But whatever happens between us is not your fault.  Got it?”  Scott nods against Stiles’s cheek.  Stiles lightly slaps his ass and orders, “I want to hear you say it.”

“Whatever happens with you and Derek, it’s not my fault,” Scott repeats with very little conviction.

“I’d put you over my knee and spank you until it sounded like you believed it,” Stiles tells him, “But I doubt it would do much good, given I know how much you like being spanked.”  Scott reddens at his words, but stays quiet, not sure if he hopes that his silence will make Stiles do it or not.  In the end, Stiles just says, “Come on, we should get up.  And you and Jackson really need to talk.  I’m sure he wants to spend a lot of money apologizing to you.”

 


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Jackson would want to deny that he grabbed his car keys and rushed out of the door as soon as the text from Scott arrived, but it’s exactly what happened.  He read the text twice.  His wolf practically jumping for joy at the thought of his mate willing to listen to him; to let him explain his actions and apologise.

<Sorry.  Please come over so we can talk.  Scott>

He’d hardly slept all night, his stomach twisted in knots at Scott ignoring him, at knowing he had unintentionally hurt him; just like the pack had.  Well, maybe not ‘just like’, but he hurt his mate, and Scott was angry at him.  He wanted to explain to him how worried he had been, but Scott just wouldn’t listen.  When he followed him home, because he had to know Scott was safe, he wouldn’t let him in the door and told him to ‘stop being a creepy stalker’ as he slammed the door in his face.  Internally his wolf howled in torment, and if the door had been open he knows Scott would have seen the hurt on his face; probably as much hurt as Jackson knows he caused Scott.

 

As he rushes to Scott’s house he thinks over the wording of the text again, and begins to worry.  All Scott actually said is ‘please come over so we can talk’.  It doesn’t mean he’s forgiven him for hurting him when he was trying to protect him.  By the time he is running up the McCall driveway and standing behind Mrs McCall’s station wagon he’s feeling more nervous than he’ll admit; it’s then he realises it might have been easier had he taken the Porsche instead of running all the way here, carrying the keys.  But, at least Scott said they were going to talk; so, he should get to explain, and apologise.  As he walks up to the door it swings open before he presses the bell and Scott is standing there.

“My mom’s asleep upstairs,” he smiles by way of explanation.

“Okay,” Jackson smiles in return; hope of reconciliation rising.

 

“So,” Scott starts, he seems nervous and Jackson is about to ask if he’s okay when he continues, “I should have let you explain yesterday, and I’m sorry.  Stiles talked with me this morning and explained how you feel…”

“He did?” Jackson croaks, “What did he explain exactly?”

“About how much danger I put myself in by taking off on my own, because of the alpha pack and that you were worried, just like he was, and wanted to make sure I was safe…”

“I’m always gonna want to make sure you’re safe,” he interrupts, wanting to make sure that Scott understands what he means to him, “I care about you…”

“I know, Stiles went out of his way to make you sound very romantic.  It was about how he and you would want to make sure I was safe, that you would do anything to protect me, and that until I found my mate, or an alpha I trusted, you would both be there to look out for me; because we’re pack,” Scott smiles, and Jackson feels his heart stutter; maybe Scott wants to ignore that they are mates, he has to be aware of how they are around each other, and how their scents combine.  He has to make Scott realise what he means to him.

“No,” he replies, the smile falling from Scott’s lips, “Not because of some pack bullshit.  I love you, Scott McCall.”

“But you’re straight?!” Scott responds, the confusion rolling off him, “How can… you’re only attracted to girls?”

“Clearly not.  Look, I’m not here to spout labels or psychoanalyse myself Scott, all I can tell you is that I am completely in love with you.  All I want in this world is for you to realise that I’m your mate.”

“You are?”

“Scott,” he says grasping his upper arms and pulling the closer, “Your scent has been driving me mad since I first noticed it, making me want to sink my teeth into your neck, to mark and claim you, and have you do the same to me…”

“But…”

“But,” he cuts of Scott’s words, fearful of a rejection, “I won’t force you into a mating bond you aren’t ready for,” he carries on in the face of the uncertainty and confusion in Scott’s eyes and scent, “I don’t want to rush you into something the way Derek and Stiles tried to force you into this before you were ready, I won’t do that to you again.  I’m here because I care about you as a person Scott and I want you to know that I will be ready the second you are.”

“I don’t understand,” Scott says, “I thought you and Lydia were…”

“Are over, we broke up,” he frowns at Scott, “I told you that ages ago, when she and Allison got together and went off to France, using the trauma of Allison losing her mom to get out of school before the year ended and visit relatives in Europe.”

“Lydia and Allison are together, like dating?” Scott scrunches up his forehead as he asks, and Jackson realises that Scott hadn’t understood what he and Stiles had previously told him about Lydia and Allison.

 

“Yes, they’re dating,” he confirms, and instantly the scent coming off Scott sours; Jackson realises that Scott had never considered the possibility of not getting back with Allison until now.  He watches as Scott sits down on the couch before taking the seat beside him, tentatively taking his hand and entwining their fingers, softly whispering, “Scott?”

“I…” Scott looks into his eyes and Jackson sees the sadness there, “I thought that I was going to be the problem of us getting back together, because of how I’d changed. I…”

“Babe…” he starts to try to comfort him.

“No, I’m okay.  I mean… I had been feeling guilty because I hadn’t really thought about her lately, when I was with you and we were,” Scott blushes as he looks away from Jackson, “You know, doing stuff.  She said she was breaking up with me, that I shouldn’t wait on her.  I said ‘I know we’re meant to be together’, and she said ‘there’s no such thing as fate’,” Scott’s voice rising slightly as he speaks, “She was crying as she kissed me, but she never said… she could have just said.  I thought we were just on a break, I felt guilty for what we were doing together, I like you so much; I felt like I was cheating on her and…”

“Hey, it’s okay,” he says, wrapping his arms around Scott and corralling him into his embrace; he feels Scott’s breath on his skin as Scott inhales his scent.

Jackson holds him as they both relax back on to the couch, each holding the other tight for comfort.  He knows he doesn’t want to claim Scott as his mate, not yet, not while there is the threat of the alpha pack and what his death would put his mate through.  And anyway, he doesn’t think Scott is ready for that any more than he is ready for an alpha to claim him.  They lay together in silence; Scott holding tightly to him while one hand strokes Scott’s back, and the other cards through his hair.

“You do smell good to me,” Scott breathes against his neck, ending the comfortable silence between them, “Do you really think we’re mates?”

“Yes.  I know you haven’t dated a guy before,” he says after contemplating their relationship, and how far either of them may be willing to take things, “And I haven’t dated a guy before, but do you think we could?  Date each other I mean?”

“You mean like going steady?”

“This isn’t the fifties McCall,” he growls next to Scott’s ear, making him giggle, “But yeah, I do like the idea of having you wear my lettermen’s jacket.”

“Okay,” Scott lifts his head from the crook of Jackson’s neck to look at him, and Jackson doesn’t hold back the rumble of satisfaction he feels at the answer, “I mean, I guess we kinda have been dating, but how does that work with me being… you know... the pack bitch?  The bestiary mentioned intersex betas having mates, but when…”

“You leave that to me to work out,” Jackson kisses the tip of Scott’s nose, “I’ll always take care of you, babe.”

“I have a boyfriend,” Scott smiles dopily at him.

“Yes, you do,” Jackson smiles back, adding, “One who intends to meet all the needs on your kink list.”  He enjoys the spike in Scott’s heartbeat and scent at his words; the sweet honey of his mate’s arousal surrounding them.

 


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“Seriously Sourwolf, you should move back to your loft,” Stiles states as he walks into the train carriage, “What additional defence does hanging out here with no utilities or a decent, actually, or any bed to sleep in give you?”

“The alpha pack knows where the loft is,” Derek replies.

“And you think they won’t be able to pick up on your scent?” he asks, raising his eyebrows at the wolf, “You know, that is all over your stuff at your loft, that they know where it is.  You think they won’t be capable of using that to track you down if they want to?”

Derek silently stares at him.

“I don’t think you or Isaac are in any immediate danger,” Stiles ploughs on in the face of Derek’s stony silence, “I mean, they want you to kill your pack, and they’ve taken Erica and Boyd as some way to make you kill them; so, I think it’s safe to say that until that little plot, whatever it is, plays out, they aren’t going to make any other direct assaults.  Don’t you think?”

“If I go back to the loft what’s to stop them coming and taking Isaac?” Stiles almost doesn’t hear Derek speak, his voice is so quiet, and he realises it’s so Isaac won’t overhear them from the other carriage where he’s studying for his final exam.  And it dawns on Stiles, Derek is scared; scared that he won’t find Erica and Boyd, scared that they’ll take Isaac, scared that he will be forced to kill them all, Jackson and him too, and then force Scott into the hands of the alpha pack.

 

He steps close into Derek’s personal space, he sees Derek’s eyes widen and hears the huff of surprised breath at their closeness.

“I already told you,” he whispers as he takes Derek’s hands, “We are not going to let that happen.  They are not going to get Isaac, we are going to find Erica and Boyd and bring them back, and we are going to protect everyone from them.  And we are going to survive this.  All of us.”

“How?  I’ve been trying to track them down since they took them; I’m still no closer to finding Erica and Boyd or the alpha pack.”

“It starts by getting out of this rat-infested scrap heap and back to a place with hot and cold running water,” he sees Derek’s eyebrows pull together in a determined frown, “And if the loft is out of the question then…” he steps back from Derek and turns away from him as he pulls out his phone making a call, “Hey daddio, could some friends stay in our spare room for a few nights, maybe longer…?”

“Which friends?  And why do they need to stay in our spare room?” his dad replies, and Stiles knows Derek can hear both sides of the conversation.

“This is the worst idea you have ever had,” Derek protests.

“Derek and Isaac, you know Danny and I told you about the whole alpha pack thing,” he says to his dad.

“Your werewolf boyfriend Derek?  Do I need to remind you that you’re only seventeen?  Do I need to remind him I have a gun?”

“We’re on a break,” Stiles informs his dad, ignoring the whine he hears behind him, “And I already told you I took advantage of Derek,” he reiterates, feeling the curl of self-loathing for forcing Derek as he did, “This is really important dad, I mean he and Isaac are practically living as hobos, please?”

 

“Why?” Derek asks once Stiles is off the phone after his dad agreed to let them stay.

“Because I might not like you very much right now, but I don’t hate you, and you and the pack don’t deserve what the alpha pack is doing.”

“After what I did to Scott, and what I allowed my pack to do, I didn’t think you’d even talk to me again,” Stiles can hear the lump in Derek’s throat as he talks, “We raped and abused him, I’m responsible for that, when we should have protected and cared for him; even after the way he treated you, you asked me to take care of him and that’s what I should have done.  Instead… what I did was no better than if I’d left him to Peter.”  Stiles wipes at the tears in his eyes, turning to face him as Derek asks, “Can we rebuild what we had after that?”

“I don’t know Derek.”

“Do you want to try?”

“Let’s get the rest of our pack back, deal with the alpha douches, and just give it some time; then we’ll see.”

 


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Isaac feels some of the tension drain out of him as he lays his head on the pillow on the camp bed.  It’s more comfortable than just the sleeping bag in train carriage at the depot; and warmer.  And the sheriff gave them a hot meal.  There was tension around the table as he and Derek sat down with Stiles and the sheriff; the conversation was stiff and awkward, but things eased between them.  He helped Stiles clear the table and wash the dishes, but he knew he’d lost the connection he had with him before; he understood why, but it still hurt.

The hot shower before turning in for the night was more than welcome.  But as he lies here, his alpha in the other bed in the same room, the sound of Stiles’s heartbeat across the corridor, and the sheriff in the next room… he feels safer, but not safe.  He can’t get his mind to stop, to switch off and let him sleep.  His thoughts drifting back to what he overheard Stiles say earlier.

 

“Do you think he knows what he said?” he quietly whispers to Derek.

“Who?”

“Stiles, when you were talking at the depot.  He said ‘our’, ‘get the rest of our pack back’; do you think he knows he said that?”

“No, I don’t think so.”

“Does that mean he still thinks of us as pack?”

“I hope so.”

 

 

Chapter Text

 

 

Scott lay in his bed staring at the ceiling, with Jackson’s arm over his stomach, a leg entangled in his legs, his face was buried in the crook of Scott’s neck, and his hard cock was pressed against Scott’s side.  They were both naked, when they fell asleep Jackson’s knot was still buried in his pussy.  Scott couldn’t wipe the smile from his face if he tried.  Jackson was his boyfriend.  Jackson insisted they both update their Facebook relationship status to ‘In a relationship’; he even growled at Scott when he joked “shouldn’t it be, ‘It’s Complicated’?”

 

He was nervous about telling his mom; after she woke from her sleep she found them curled up together asleep on the couch, they were still dressed at that point.  Her reaction wasn’t what he was expecting.

“Um, mom, there’s something I should, we should tell you…” he stammered.

“I’m already aware you’re having sex, Scott, remember, I was there when Stiles, Derek, and Dr Deaton were explaining about the type of werewolf you are, and when you picked the IUD…”

“No, well, yes,” he blushed, “But that’s not it,” he rushes the sentences out together, “Jackson and me are dating; he’s my boyfriend.”  His heart was hammering in his heart as he waited for her reaction.

“Yes, I know that,” she replied; her look saying ‘tell me something I don’t know’.

“But we only talked about it today?”

“Really, I thought you were dating weeks ago,” she stated, “So, do you want me order dinner in, or make something before I have to leave for work?  I’ve got a short shift today and should be back around midnight.”

 

They ordered pizza, sat around the table eating, and then his mom left for work.  He and Jackson watched some sports channel for a little while before he felt the stirrings of his pre-heat needs rising.

“Need me to take care of you, babe?” Jackson’s breath felt cool against his cheek.

“Please,” he whines, his eyes turning to the other wolf.

Jackson’s hands fumble with the belt and buttons on his jeans, tugging desperately at his zipper.

“Fuck,” he swears, “I don’t know why you don’t wear a skirt or dress like you want to instead of pants.  That way I could just take you, any time you needed.”

“Jacks,” he exclaimed flushing at the thought.

 

He knows it’s one of his kinks, well, maybe more than a kink, like everything connected to the clothes he wears.  He identifies as male, but he prefers the clothes society says only females should wear.  Jackson can tell how much the clothing that he has worn not only arouses him, but makes him feel… himself.

Thanks to his sessions with Ms Morrell, he also knows his fear of giving into the desire was installed in him by his father.  Wearing the underwear and stockings is one thing; they are hidden beneath his shirts and pants.  Could he wear a skirt?  The fear he feels uncurling in his gut pushing the question to the fore, ‘What would his mom say?’ 

But she’s been fine about him wearing the underwear and the shoes.  Maybe he could wear skirts and dresses, but just around the house.

 

“You’re thinking too hard,” Jackson complains next to him; propping himself up on one arm to look over Scott to the bedside table and the clock, “We should get up, get showered, dressed, and head out to the IHOP for breakfast; we should probably avoid Denny’s for now.  Maybe take your mom?  Then we are going shopping.  I want to get some things before your heat.”

“Before my heat?”

“Yes, it’s only three days away, the full moon is Wednesday; my birthday.”

“Oh,” Scott replies, feeling his stomach churn, “Is it so I can take care of my heat on my own?”

“Don’t be stupid,” Jackson counters him, clearly annoyed at the suggestion, “My parents are going to be out of town.  So, you, Stiles, Danny, and I will be having an all day and night party at mine.  Where I plan to cover off some of your kinks throughout the day; and test myself.  I may get a little, or a lot, possessive; so, it may end up being just you and me.  But hopefully I can keep it under control and make sure you’re taken care of like you need.”

“Are you regretting asking me to be your boyfriend?” he asks, the words spilling from his mouth when he didn’t intend to ask.  The fear that what his role within a pack is will be too much for Jackson to accept.

“No.  I already told you, I know we’re mates,” Jackson growls at him, “I’m just not very good at sharing, and I don’t like the idea of sharing my boyfriend, but I have too, I get that.  The next few days we’ll start working on that, before your heat, so we’ll know if I can handle what I’ve planned for you for Wednesday.”  He leans down, pressing his lips to Scott’s and plundering his mouth with his tongue as he deepens the kiss.  Scott moans his contentment into Jackson’s open mouth.

 


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They were sitting at the back of the IHOP, Jackson with his back to the wall with a clear view of the main entrance, Scott to his right in the corner, and Melissa to Scott’s right across the table from Jackson; he made sure that Scott was between them where he was safest.

 

“So, what are you guys planning for the day?” Melissa asks between mouthfuls of pancake, eggs, and bacon.

“I was thinking that we’d do some shopping,” Jackson answers, taking a sip of his water as he feels Scott tense beside him, “I thought we’d take a look in the mall; see if Scott can find any skirts or dresses that he likes.”  Scott blushes beside him, and he can feel the embarrassment radiate from him.

“Jacks,” Scott hisses, looking at the table and furtively glancing at his mom.

“Have you changed your mind about that?” he asks Scott, he knows crossdressing is high on Scott’s kink list, but it’s something he has only partly done.  Given Scott describes himself as genderfluid when it comes to how he wants to dress, he doesn’t want him to hide himself; he wants him to be himself and express himself, “If you don’t want to do that we can find something else to do today.”

“I…” Scott’s eyes dart from looking at Jackson, to his mom, to his plate, and back again.

“Honey,” Scott’s mom says, taking his hand, “I don’t want you hiding who you are; you are my wonderful intersex son, and you have the right to dress how you want.  All I want is for you to be safe and happy, and all I ask is that you don’t wear any skirt or dress that is too short in public; I don’t want you mistaken for a hooker.”

“You don’t mind?” Scott tentatively asks.

“Honey, of course not,” she replies, and Jackson can’t suppress the smile at her support of his mate, her son, “It’s not as if you’re the first guy to wear a skirt; didn’t that West guy, the rapper, wear one on stage not that long ago, and the actor Jared Leto tweeted some pictures of himself in a little black skirt, and Vin Diesel at the MTV awards a few years back wore a black leather skirt, it’s hardly new…”

“I think the way I’d dress would be…”

“More your style than theirs?” his mom supplies.

“I don’t want people to stare at me like I’m some sort of freak,”” he says, tears threatening to fall, “Or for you to be ashamed of me.”

“Oh honey, I will never be ashamed of you,” tightens her grip on his hand, “You’re my son and I love you, whether you’re wearing a dress or a pair of pants, I will always love and support you.”

“Me too,” Jackson adds, taking Scott’s other hand.

“And, you’re not a freak,” his mom adds, “If other people stare, so what?  You do not need their approval to live your life the way you want and to be yourself; you have that right as much as they do.  So, be the you that makes you happy.”

 


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They drop Scott’s mom back at the house before they head off on their shopping trip; she wanted to get a start on the laundry before sitting down for an afternoon of catching up on her soaps in the TiVo.

 

“I don’t think I’ll find any skirts my mom would approve of here,” Scott says looking at Jackson as they pull up outside a shop close to the warehouse district.

“Maybe I don’t want your mom to approve of everything,” Jackson replies with a feral grin, “This is for the things I didn’t think we should talk about in front of your mom.  She may be fine with how her genderfluid son wants to dress, but I don’t think she wants to know about how kinky he is in, and out of, the bedroom.  We’ll head to the mall for your skirts and dresses after we finish here.”

“Jacks, I don’t think we’ll be allowed in there.”

“Don’t worry babe, that’s what fake IDs are for,” he says stepping out of the car, knowing Scott will follow him.

 

Inside the sex shop Jackson sees Scott’s eyes go wide at the array of goods on display, and doesn’t try to hold in the snort of laughter that escapes.  The twenty-something guy behind the counter comes around and questions if they are old enough to be in the shop, but he quickly talks him round and convinces him that he and his boyfriend are; they just look young.  He may not believe them, but he doesn’t evict them from the premises.

 

He sees Scott’s eyes rove over the butt plugs.

“These aren’t the kind I was thinking of getting for you,” he whispers in his ear, “Those are,” he adds nudging him towards the stainless-steel plugs with the jewelled flared base.  Scott’s eyes widen as he looks over the large steel butt plugs and the variety of coloured jewels to choose from.  “What colour would you like babe?” Jackson whispers in his ear.

“Blue,” Scott answers as he shivers against him, his sweet honey scent rising.  He picks up the butt plug Scott selects and leads him round the store to the display of nipple clamps.  There are a couple of pairs of clamps that Scott seems interested in, but his mate’s attention keeps sliding to the selection of crops, paddle, floggers and whips.  He sees Scott swallow and lick his lips a couple of times as his gaze wanders over to them.

“Why don’t you go over and have a closer look while I pick out a couple of these nipple clamps for you,” he suggests to him.

“I…”

“Go on; I’ll be right behind you,” Jackson smirks at him as he lightly swats Scott’s ass.  Scott tentatively wanders over, and Jackson quickly picks up a pair of chrome Japanese cloverleaf clamps and a pair of barrel tit clamps.

 

As he walks up behind Scott he sees the rubber slapper that he’s turning over in his hand, while his eyes roam over the flogger hanging against the wall.  His arousal is evident as his tongue keeps sliding over his top lip and he bites at his bottom lip; his scent sweet and heavy in the air.  The slapper is seven-inch by three-inch piece of quarter-inch thick rubber with a firm hardwood handle.  The flogger has a rubber coated handle and fourteen-inch long tails.

“The tails come in a few different varieties,” the guy behind the counter calls to them as he saunters over, “I’m gonna assume that you’ve not used one before, and suggests you think of getting deer or suede tails as they’re a bit softer; the cow and bull leather are more severe.”

“You really want one?” Jackson asks Scott, who nods mutely at him, “I need you to use your words and ask for it Scott.”

“Please Jacks, I… I’d like one,” Scott softly replies.

“Okay, suede tails,” Jackson says to the guy, and turning back to Scott, “And I’ll only be using it on you once I know what I’m doing with it,” Jackson informs him.

 

When they finally leave the store along with the butt plug, nipple clamps, slapper, and flogger, Jackson has also picked up a round cherry wood paddle that Scott was looking at that has a six-inch diameter with a six-inch handle, a red rubber ball gag with a leather strap that has a locking buckle, a black leather one-and-a-half-inch wide collar with three D-rings, and two ten metre lengths of blue bondage rope.  And a bright purple remote-control vibrating love egg, which promises sensational G-spot and clitoral stimulation.

As they are loading the bags into the trunk of the car he can see the almost glassy look in Scott’s eyes and feel the affect that his scent and pheromones are having on him.  He just wants to rip Scott’s pants down and fuck him up against his Porsche; but they have more shopping to do.

“Right, let’s get you some skirts,” his voice a heated rumble after he takes a quick kiss from Scott’s lips and he starts to roll down the windows of the car.

 

As they wander around the mall Jackson can tell that Scott’s mind is now more on the packages in the trunk of the car than on finding himself more clothes to wear; it’s clear his upcoming heat is affecting them both, and he’s going to need to take care of him soon.  But, some of the skirts and dresses do get enough of Scott’s attention that Jackson is able to buy him something.  There aren’t many shoppers in the store, and Jackson sweet talks the assistant with ‘we don’t know what size our friend is but we know her waist is thirty inches and so is Scott’s so could he?’.  Scott is mutely standing beside him, bright red and open mouthed.  She quickly looks around her, informing them that ‘she could seriously lose her job over this’, but she shows them to the fitting rooms and lets Scott try on the items.

“If there are any of the dresses that he likes, I have friend that does alterations, he can remove the bust so they are a better fit,” she informs Jackson.

“Thanks,” he smiles at her.

 

They leave with two dresses, a black and gold glitter patterned halter neck dress that comes down to mid-thigh and an off-white Vivian crochet lace dress that comes down to just above the knee.  They also get Scott four skirts, an ankle length silk metallic sunburst pleat skirt, a Calvin Klein knee length navy pleated skirt, a Prada mid-thigh red cotton and polyester blend skirt, and a little black leatherette A-line skirt that just covers the top of the thigh.  And the address of the friend’s tailor shop for the alterations.

Jackson also bought him some more stockings and some knee-high socks; now all he wants to do is get Scott home, and undressed.

 


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Scott is sitting on Jackson’s lap, one of Jackson’s arms around his waist, hand resting on his hip, and the other gently stroking up and down his inner thigh under the CK pleated skirt.  Scott has one arms around Jackson’s neck and his nose pressed firmly against his neck as he sits languid and sated with a happy smile on his face.

When Jackson parked the car, his mom was just getting into her car.

“Hey, I’m just heading to the store for some groceries, I’d love to see what you bought,” she says spying the bags in Jackson’s hands, “When I get back, I should be about an hour.”  Scott blushes as he recalls some of the things in the bags Jackson is holding.

“Sure,” he smiles at her, when he realises she means the skirts.

They head into the house as his mom drives off, and are straight up to Scott’s room.  Jackson has no sooner dropped the bags on the bed than he has him backed against a wall and is devouring his mouth in a kiss; Scott moans into it, his arms wrapping around Jackson’s neck and his hands tangling in his hair.

“I want you naked now,” Jackson rumbles against his ear, his voice vibrating deep and thick with a need Scott feels resonating inside him.  Soon enough they are both naked and Scott is spread out on the bed beneath Jackson as he kisses, nips, and teases his nipples with his lips, teeth and fingers.  Jackson’s cock deep in Scott’s pussy, his knot tugging against the lips with every thrust in and out as he moans and gasps Jackson’s name, his toes curling at the overload of pleasure he’s feeling, until Jackson’s thrusts shallow as his knot swells locking them together; his lips suckling on one nipple as his fingers pull and squeeze the other.

 

It took twenty minutes before Jackson’s knot had gone down enough to pull out of him, which didn’t leave them much time to clean up and get dressed before his mom was due back.  He’d watched as Jackson laid out the underwear and stockings for him, and the butt plug.  As he knelt on the bed, with Jackson’s lube covered fingers stretching open his ass, he worried about his mom coming back and finding Jackson sliding a jewel tipped metal butt plug into his ass.

With the plug firmly seated in his ass, he pulled on the thong that Jackson had laid out for him, and the white bra, stockings, and garter belt.  Jackson left him to choose which skirt he would wear, and whatever top he wanted to wear, while he went into the bathroom to wash.  So, Scott chose the Calvin Klein navy skirt, and his old two-tone blue hooded Henley sweater.  He finished off with the black leather ballet flats with the one-and-a-half-inch wedge heel.  When Jackson came back into the room he was dressed in the clothes he wore that morning.

 

As he sits here now, in Jackson’s lap, waiting on his mom returning it occurs to him just how much stuff he’s allowed Jackson to buy him; he frowns at the thought.

“What’s wrong?” Jackson picks up on his change of mood instantly.

“I shouldn’t have let you buy all that stuff,” he complains, “The clothes and the stuff from the other store; I should have paid for it.”

“Why?” Jackson asks, “Anyway, I don’t think you should, it was my idea to get them for you; besides, I’m sure you don’t have a spare four hundred dollars for one skirt…”

“What skirt?  None of them cost that much!” he nearly leaps from Jackson’s lap at the idea of spending that much on one item of clothing.

“The silk peachy coloured one that comes down to your ankles, it was three hundred and ninety-five dollars.”

“Noooooo,” Scott slides from Jackson’s lap and, clenching at the movement of the plug in his ass, stands staring down at him as the weight in the pit of his stomach grows, “It was thirty-nine dollars fifty.”

“Babe, at nearly four hundred dollars it wasn’t even the most expensive skirt you picked out,” Jackson corrects him.

“How much did I let you spend on me?”

“It doesn’t matter…”

“It matters to me!” he insists.

“Fine,” Jackson huffs, “The four skirts and the two dresses were about one thousand and two hundred.”

“What?!” comes a screech from behind them, and they both turn to see his mom standing there in the doorway; neither Jackson nor Scott had heard his mom come in.

“It’s nothing, I’ve spent nearly that much on a single Hugo Boss suit,” Jackson tries to reassure him, “The insurance on my car is double that a year…”

“Jackson, it’s way too generous of you to be spending that kind of money…” Scott’s mom starts to say.

“No, it’s not,” Jackson snaps, “I will give my mate anything, I don’t care what it costs; I don’t care about the money.  Making sure he has what he needs, or wants, to be happy and be free to be who he is; that’s all that matters.”

“But I can’t expect you to spend that much money on me!” Scott protests; only now really thinking about all the clothes and shoes that Jackson has bought him.

“I’m not buying you stuff because I think you expect me to; I know you don’t,” Jackson retorts, “But that doesn’t mean I can’t buy you something because I want to, or because I think, or know, you’ll like it and it will make you happy.  And it makes me happy giving you these things; especially when I see you happy when you wear them.  Is that so bad?”

“I…” Scott doesn’t really have an answer for him that doesn’t sound churlish; nor does his mom it seems as she doesn’t reply either.

“Besides,” Jackson grins at him in his certainty that he’s won the argument, “Why shouldn’t I buy my boyfriend the Prada skirt he wants?”

“There’s nothing wrong with wanting to make each other happy,” his mom says from the doorway, “But, maybe making each other happy doesn’t mean buying everything you want.  Maybe it just means spending time together, and doing things together that you both enjoy; other than fighting an evil psychotic alpha, high schoolers on a revenge killing spree, and geriatric serial killing grandfathers that hunt werewolves.”  Jackson looks to the ground, his expression funereal.  Scott’s mom adds, “Maybe, just don’t by him everything he wants just because you can,” walking to the kitchen she says, “Once I have dinner in the oven you can show me what a thousand dollars worth of skirts and dresses looks like; I don’t think my entire wardrobe cost that much.”

With his mom in the kitchen Scott walks up to Jackson and kisses him on the cheek.

“I like that you want to make me happy, I want to make you happy too,” he blushes as his hand trails up Jackson’s arm, “I just feel guilty that I didn’t think about how much you were spending, and that makes me feel bad, not good; so, no more expensive gifts.”

“Okay, I won’t buy you anything I think is expensive,” Jackson tells him, “But I will provide for my mate.”

 

After dinner, as everyone is sitting in front of one the soaps Scott’s mom watches, Jackson brings up Scott’s impending heat.

“I was thinking, that, with the full moon only a few days from now, and my parents away on another business trip, Scott and I would avail ourselves of the empty house until after the event,” Scott notices the stoic look on his mom’s face and feels his cheeks heat at the conversation, “To avoid any embarrassment on everyone’s part.”

“That sounds sensible,” his mom says, “Your parents seem to be away on a lot of business trips recently.”

“I guess they find it easier than dealing with the disappointment of having a werewolf son that has issues from being controlled and realising he killed a lot of people.”

“Jackson, I’m sorry I…” his mom starts to apologies.

“It’s okay,” Jackson sighs, “I’m used to it.  Scott leans over and kisses his temple, telling him, “You don’t disappoint me.”

 


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Ethan screams around Ennis’s thick cock thrusting down his throat as Kali drives the rubber strap-on into his pussy and pulls on the chain linking the alligator teeth clamps on his nipples ripping the metal toothed clamps from his body.

 

His skin is drenched in sweat, and Ennis and Kali have made him come already, and his little cock is hard again, and as Kali slams into him her other hand smacks down on his cock and balls; his cries of pain muffled by the hard cock still lodged in his throat.  His tormentors cackling their enjoyment of his ordeal.

 

He just wishes that they would finish and leave him alone.  He hates this.  Hates that his body needs the sexual release.  Hates his heats.

 

He just wants it over with.

 


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Jackson appraises his mate standing before him, trying to discern some indication of his feelings on the plan for the next three days that he’s outlined.  Scott’s wearing the same CK pleated skirt from yesterday, only now it’s matched with the black stockings, panties and bra, and a Ralph Lauren white cotton Classic Oxford shirt that is buttoned up to the neck and untucked; the shoes are the ones with the highest heel that Scott has, two-and-three-quarter-inch, black leather oxford brogues.  Everything about him makes Jackson want to throw him down on the bed and take him.

“Give me a colour,” he demands.

“I…” Scott falters in his answer, and he can feel the warring emotions emanating from him, “Yellow.”

“Okay,” Jackson lets out a breath, “Is it the having sex with Danny and Stiles before your actual heat hits, or…”

“It’s the going outside and people seeing me dressed in my skirt,” Scott rushes, his words running into each other as he answers.

“You’ll only be going from your front door to my car, parked right on the street, and then, when we get to the house, we’ll be parked in the drive right outside the front door,” Jackson tries to reassure him, “It’s two in the afternoon, most people are still at work or at school…”

“I know it stupid of me, but…”

“It’s not stupid, your feelings are not stupid; if you’re not ready to do this then…”

“No, I want to, I just… I worry, about what it will be like going back to school, if people know about me and that I like to dress like this, and…”

“You’ve got months to go before you’re going back to school.  You can figure out what you want to do then.  And you’ve faced rabid alpha werewolves and a sword wielding psychotic hunter, and mass murdering Kanima…”

“You’re not a mass murderer, you were controlled by Matt, he was the murderer…” Scott shouts out, not taking a breath between words as he defends him.

“Okay, I know, but my point is, you were brave enough to face them, you’re brave enough to be yourself and smart enough to face down anything some bigoted high schooler has to say about you being genderfluid in how you dress.”

“You’re right,” Scott shyly smiles at him, “Green.  Let’s go.”

Jackson stands from the edge of the bed, picks up the bag he packed for him, chastely kisses Scott’s lips, and taking him by the hand leads him out of the bedroom.

 

Chapter Text

 

 

Scott sat self-consciously in the car for about half the journey to Jackson’s house; convinced that people were staring through the windows into the car and knew what he was wearing.  Judging him for not being what a boy should be; for not being dressed like a boy should be.

At every red light, he tensed waiting for the name calling and ridicule to start, with every car that pulled alongside them.  It didn’t.  All that happened was Jackson placing a hand on his stocking covered knee, his thumb running in soothing circles through his stockings and relaxing him as they waited for the lights to change.

 

By the time the thirty-minute drive, that would have taken fifteen if Jackson had driven straight there, was over, and Jackson was parking in his driveway, Scott wasn’t sure what he’d been worried about.  No-one had seen him, or if they had, they hadn’t pointed and drawn attention to him; at least not that he noticed.

And he was also feeling the needs of his pre-heat start to rise; and from the low growl Jackson emitted behind him, as he ushered him into his room, he could smell the need seeping from him.

“You look so prim and proper, dressed in that shirt, skirt, and shoes,” he growls low next to his ear as he grabs Scott by the hips, “But, I know what a needy slut you are this close to your heat, with your ass plugged and your panties getting all wet.  Such a good little bitch”

“Jacks, please,” Scott whimpers as he presses back against his boyfriend.  He’s soon revelling in the feeling of Jackson bending him over the bed, his panties being pulled down, catching in the straps from his garter-belt, and his skirt being pushed up over his ass as Jackson kneels behind him; he gasps as the butt plug is pressed in against his prostate, and Jackson licks across the lust swollen lips of his pussy.  Jackson’s tongue pushing in and teasingly flicking against his clit; making him gasp, moan, and shudder, as his skin is subjected to the teasing licks and nips.

All too soon, and not soon enough, he’s flipped over onto his back and Jackson’s cock is sliding into him as his ass clenches around the metal plug.  He’s soon grasping at Jackson, his fingers entangled in his hair, as he surrenders to the dominant kiss the blond wolf commands from his mouth as his knot swells as it pulls back across his other lips, then pushes back into him seeking to tie them together.  Scott wraps his legs around Jackson’s waist, pulling them closer together as he cries into Jackson’s mouth, his inner walls clenching around the knot swelling inside him and locking them together.

 

When they have started to recover, Jackson lifts Scott from the bed and turns them around so that he falls back on the bed and Scott his straddling his waist; where his knot holds them firmly locked together.  Scott settles into place, his legs either side of Jackson’s, and lies down on top of him, burrowing his nose against the side of his neck as Jackson cards his fingers through his hair.

“Mine,” Jackson murmurs against his ear.

“Your bitch,” he unconsciously replies.  He doesn’t see Jackson’s eyes flash their neon blue at his words, but he feels the contentment that rolls off him.

“Let’s just rest a bit while we wait, then we’ll get something to eat and change; I have something in mind for you to wear for tonight with Danny,” Jackson tells him.  Scott is too sleepily sated to really listen.

 


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Jackson liked how compliant and submissive Scott was under his touch, running a thumb over Scott’s, now large, nipple, he watches him stir from his sleep; Scott’s ass thrusting back against his crotch without even realising it.  Scott had awoken parts of his personality he wasn’t aware of, and he wasn’t thinking of the possessiveness he felt; that he could relate to Scott being his mate.  Jackson’s thoughts were on the dominant and sexually sadistic fantasies that Scott brought out in him.  He planned to lay Scott out, naked, over his lap and spank his ass until it was red; and he hoped that the marks he planned to leave on him didn’t heal and fade before Danny arrived.  He wanted Danny to see his marks on Scott’s body.  The very idea of it raising his ardour; something Scott, now fully awake and turning to face him, quickly notices as his hands start to travel down Jackson’s body towards the rising tumescence.

“Not just now,” he grabs Scott’s hands, “We’ll get to that later.  We want to eat before Danny arrives.” 

“Should we get in the shower?  I know we don’t have long until Danny gets here,” Scott says, starting to get up, until he feels Jackson’s hand on his shoulder, turning to see Jackson giving him a look that he knows means trouble.

“Oh, I certainly will be,” he says, “But you aren’t showering again until your heat breaks,” at Scott’s hitch in his breath, he continues with a smirk, “You wanted to explore being a bitch, so, I figured what better way to explore your kinks and show you your place than to cover you in so much cum over the next few days that even a human will be able to smell that your mine.”

“Jacks,” Scott whimpers, at the thought of it; of being covered in all those loads for days.

“Colour?”

“Green, I just…” he’s not sure how to express what he’s feeling, “So green.”

“Good, by the time I’m done with you, you’ll have lost count of the number of loads you’ve taken.  Now, while I’m in the shower, you should go make breakfast for us,” he says, climbing out of bed.  “I didn’t say you got to put anything on,” Jackson quickly gives Scott’s ass a hard swat when he sees him reaching for his panties and skirt.  He gives his mate a kiss and turns towards his bathroom.

 

Walking into the kitchen he has to resist the urge to take Scott right there as he sees the perky ass ready and waiting in his kitchen.   Slowly resting his hands on his mate’s hip, he presses the plug against Scott’s puckered hole.

“I think you forgot something upstairs,” he whispers against his ear as Scott pushes himself back on to the plug.  “Thank you for making breakfast.”.

 

“So,” Jackson starts, “I said that we’d explore some of your kinks during your heat,” he says as he rests his sweatpants covered ass on the edge of the counter, “So, before we eat, I plan to bend you over the table and spank you, then we’ll have the breakfast you’ve made, then I want to spank you again before we head back upstairs and get you dressed and ready for Danny getting here.”  He watches Scott as he outlines his plans, sees his reactions; the slight start, the curling of his fingers and toes before they relax back, the startled widening of his eyes before they flick their gaze to him.  “Give me a colour,” he demands.  Scott’s heart beat is loud and fast in his ear, but he can smell the arousal from him; feel the desire singing along the pack bond.

“Green.”  He smiles at Scott’s reply.

 

“I won’t stop spanking you until I want, unless you safe word,” he informs Scott as he leans across the kitchen table, his hands grasping the edge, “Understood?”

“Yes, Jacks,” Scott fidgets nervously.

“Tell me the safe words.”

“Green is okay, amber to slow down and talk, and red to stop.”

“Good boy,” Jackson smiles, “Now.”

 

Jackson rests his hand on the small of Scott’s back and runs his other hand over the smooth globes of his ass.  He already feels himself starting to get hard at the thought of turning these cheeks crimson and hot to the touch.  He squeezes a handful of cheek, enjoying the feel of it and the hitch in Scott’s breath; before letting go and raising his hand.

SMACK.  SMACK.  SMACK.  SMACK.

His strikes are hard and slow.  Scott gasping at each one, and desperately griping tighter on the edge of the table; hungry for more.  Jackson keeps up the hard, slow hits on Scott’s ass.

SMACK.  SMACK.  SMACK.  SMACK.  Imperceptibly increasing the speed of his hits, to the change in Scott’s scent and the noises coming from his mouth, as he alternates the cheek his hand lands on. 

SMACK.  SMACK.  SMACK.  SMACK.  SMACK.  SMACK.  SMACK.  SMACK.

“Please, Jacks, please,” Scott whines as he squirms on the table.  Jackson can see the dampness on his thigh where Scott’s slick is sliding down.  And he’s sure Scott must see his hardness pressing against the crotch of his pants.  The feel of Scott’s ass warming under his hand, and the change in colour as it reddens to his touch and clenches around the plug, all fuelling his own desires.

“Look at you,” Jackson growls, his voice thick and needful, “All needy and desperate as I warm your ass.  I should spank you every day.”  Scott cries out as his body shudders under his hands and briefly goes rigid as he gasps; his hands gripping to the table’s edge.

SMACK.  SMACK.  Jackson finishes the spanking and pulls Scott up to straddle is lap, his erection poking at Scott’s crotch through his sweatpants.  He holds Scott tightly in his embrace; their heart beats slowly calming as they both come down from the scene.

“You are so perfect,” he whispers in Scott’s ear, “You looked so beautiful taking that spanking, allowing me to give you that.”

“Th…Thank you,” Scott breathlessly replies.  Jackson sees when Scott notices that he’s hard.  His erection pressing against Scott’s bare crotch through his sweatpants.  “You… liked spanking me?”

“Oh baby, that isn’t the only one of your kinks I’m going to enjoy fulfilling; for the both of us,” Jackson smiles at him, enjoying the bashful smile that Scott returns, the cheeks on his face turning almost as red as those of his ass.  “Come on,” he tells his naked mate, “Let’s get some food, if I keep you like this any longer I’ll end up taking you right here an now.  I’ll spank you some more before Danny gets here, promise.  Though he may want to spank you too.”

He smirks at the shocked gasp Scott emits, and rises from the chair. Scott, still naked, warms the food he’d cooked while Jackson fetches the plates and sets the table.

 


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Scott follows Jackson back to his bedroom; they’d eaten, cleaned up the kitchen, then cuddle on the couch in the living room for a bit.  He’s not sure how long as he started to doze curled up in Jackson’s arms.  Arms that had spanked is ass to an orgasm; something he didn’t think was likely.  It had only happened once before, when Derek spanked him; then he’d put it down to the surprise of being pulled over the alpha werewolf’s lap and… Well, now Jackson has spanked him twice, and both times he has seen stars as he came over Jackson’s lap without penetration.

His ass was still red from his first spanking, Jackson had commented on the marks still being there and sounded very pleased with himself about it, when he lay over his lap for his second spanking of the day; and not necessarily his last.

He catches sight of the redness of his ass as he passes a mirror in the hall, and sees the pleased smirk on Jackson’s face when he notices him staring at it in the mirror.

“Come on, babe, we need to get you dressed before Danny gets here,” Jackson calls to him, “And I should probably change from how wet you made my sweatpants.”

He can’t hide the blush as he follows Jackson into the bedroom.

 

Scott watches as Jackson picks up the bag he packed for him and places on the bed, then with some enthusiasm he’s pulling a trunk from the back of his closet.

“No,” Jackson smiles at him, pulling the lid of the trunk back down, when he tries to peek inside, “This is my treasure chest of surprises for you, some things that I have bought for you, before the trip to the mall for your skirts; so, no complaining about me spending more money on you.  We won’t use everything during this heat.  For now though…” he lifts a black plastic bulb with long nozzle from the trunk, “We’re going to clean out your ass.”

 

“This should be the last time,” Jackson is saying to him as he squirts another nine fluid ounces of water into his ass, “It was nearly completely clean last time.  Now hold it…”

“I know,” Scott glares at the smirking blond, “Hold it for a count of twenty.”

“I know you don’t particularly like this,” Jackson says, wrapping his arms around him, “But I’m happy you’re willing to do it for me,” he kisses him, melting any anger he had away; and making him lose count.  “One… two… three…” Jackson started counting, slowly, making Scott strain with the effort of holding the water, “…twenty,” he finally said, “Okay, now jump up and down ten times, like the previous five times we’ve done this.”

Part of Scott wanted to wipe the smug grin from Jackson’s face, but the greater part of just wanted to do as he was told.  So, he jumped; and finally got to sit and purge the water out.  With him cleaned, inside at least, and his plug cleaned and seated back inside him, they headed back into the bedroom.

 

Jackson hands him his red stockings; the ‘stay-up’ ones that don’t need the garter belt, with the red lace trim at the top and the floral design trailing down to the feet.  He pulls them on while Jackson is opening the trunk to fetch something else.

“Now this little number,” Jackson smiles at him as he closes the trunk and turns back around, “I am told is a sheer open cup Babydoll with lace trim and spaghetti straps; though really there are no cups at all.”  He hands him the red see through item, holding it by the straps; the red lace trim around the top and bottom of the garment matches the floral design of his stockings.  As he slips it over his head, the trim along the top sits just under his chest, and the trim along the bottom is just under his buttocks.  Nothing is hidden beneath the sheer material.

“And these,” he says producing a pair of bright red shoes from the trunk, “Are a pair of Marc Jacobs T-strap Mary Jane pumps, with a four-inch heel.”  The heel is not the chunky kind Scott’s used to wearing; this is far thinner.  “I know the heel is closer to a stiletto heel than you’re used to, but I’ll help support you if needed; okay?”

He nods in reply.

“I want you to use your words, babe,” Jackson gently says, “I want to know you’re okay with what we’re doing.  I can smell your arousal, but, that could just be because of how close your heat is; and I can hear your heart beating a mile a minute.  And I’ve still got the collar, cuffs, ball-gag, and nipple clamps to go.”  Scott can’t hold in the whimper that escapes.

“I’m okay,” he shakily replies, “Green.  It’s… everything is good; really.”  And he means it; Jackson is taking one of his fantasies and making it reality.

“Then let’s get the collar and cuffs on you,” he smiles; making Scott smile back.  He places the black leather collar around Scott’s neck, asking him, “Does that feel okay?  Once we get them on right, they will be on for the rest of the night; so it’s not too tight, is it?”

“No,” Scott replies as he feels Jackson run two fingers between the collar and his neck; Jackson smiles and picks up the matching leather cuffs from the bed, quickly fastening them around his wrists with the same care and attention to his comfort as he did with the collar.

“Now, these are going to bite,” Jackson tells him as he picks up the black and chrome barrel nipple-clamps with the connection chain between them; turning to face him and demand, “Give me a colour.”

“Green,” he bashfully smiles in reply.

“You might not say that when they’re swinging from your chest,” Jackson snorts as he pulls and teases his right nipple, before pulling it between the rubbered teeth of the clamp and turning the barrel to fasten it.  He feels it bite into his skin and Jackson keeps turning and tightening the bite into his nipple.  Scott gasps at the flood of pain.  “It’s okay, it’s gotta be tight so that it doesn’t fall off,” Jackson tells him, “Deep breaths, and give it a count of twenty; one… two…” Jackson counts out for him and he silently follows the count in his head as he breathes in time to the numbers, “Twenty,” Jackson says, “Give me a colour.”

“Green,” Scott gasps out.  Jackson stares into his eyes, sniffs at his scent before attaching the other clamp to his left nipple with a wicked smile.

“Now, before I lock the ball-gag in your mouth, we need to discuss how you can safe word without the ability to speak,” he says, but Scott’s eyes are on the red rubber ball-gag in his hands, “So,” Jackson grabs his chin and turns his attention to him, “This is important, pay attention.  If your mouth is gagged, and your head is not restrained, I want you to shake ‘NO’ while shouting ‘NO’ behind the gag; and really shake your head, fast and furious.  Got that?”

“Yes.”

“If you can’t, because your head is restrained, then I want you to clap your hands loudly and quickly.  Okay?”

“Yes.”

“You keep making the safe word gesture until I’ve got you out of whatever we were doing; I will be checking your scent and heart beat for any sign you’re not happy about what’s happening, but you need to remember these if I get too caught up in the moment and miss something.  And I will make sure that you can make one or the other of the signs.  Okay?”

“Yes.”

“No matter what, if you aren’t happy about what we’re doing with you, make one of the gestures.  Your safety, your consent, and your pleasure is priority.  Colour?”

“Green.”

 

Scott can smell Jackson’s arousal mingled with his own as he places the large red ball in his mouth and buckles the leather strap behind his head.

“Okay, give me the clap signal,” Jackson instructs him.  He claps his hands rapidly and loudly.  “Good,” Jackson smiles at him as he takes his hands and clips the cuffs around his wrists to the D-ring on the back of the collar around his neck.  “Now, give me the headshake signal,” at Jackson’s command Scott shakes his head and give a muffled roar ‘NO’.  “Good boy,” Scott smiles around the gag at the praise.

 

Before they leave the bedroom, Scott feels the pool of heat squirm in his gut as he looks at himself in the full-length mirror.  It pulls a moan from behind the rubber gag in his mouth.  He looks so… slutty, with his pussy glistening with his arousal clearly visible behind the sheer fabric and his nipples clamped, so submissive, with his mouth gagged, his neck collared and his hands locked behind him.  He feels so much like Jackson’s plaything.  And he loves it.

 


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As soon as Danny walks through the door, Jackson worries that the way he chose to dress Scott for the night was the wrong choice for the Hawaiian elf.  He figured that while Danny won’t be as into the kink as much as he and Scott are, he’d at least not be judgemental.  But he sees the flicker of question cross Danny’s face, just before Scott’s pre-heat pheromones hit him.

 

The night doesn’t go as exactly as he planned; Danny being less involved than he anticipated.

 

Danny isn’t keen to spank Scott or use the slapper on his ass; so, Jackson has Scott kneel on the coffee table, with his head down and the Babydoll sliding off his ass, showing the jewelled plug, and gives him a lighter spanking and paddling with the slapper.  He had promised Scott another spanking and he wasn’t going to break his word.  Danny watches, and he can tell that the elf is turned on; he’s just not sure how much is due to the pheromones Scott’s giving off and how much is just Scott’s hot body.

“His nipples will need some relief,” he says to Danny, “If you release the clamp on the right one, like this,” he shows him how to decrease the tension by turning the barrel, “And then massage his nipple, to get the blood flowing,” he starts by using his fingers, but with Scott gasping into the gag soon changes to use his tongue and lips.  Danny copies his every move; it doesn’t take long to have Scott squirming in their arms as they use their mouths and fingers on his nipples, before they reapply the clamps.

Later, the Babydoll is discarded on the sofa and Scott is on his back across the coffee table; his ball-gag removed and his wrist cuffs released from the collar.  His stocking clad legs are spread wide and his high heel covered feet in the air; Danny does join in.  He’s thrusting his cock down Scott’s throat as Jackson eats out his pussy and fists his own hard cock.

“Fuck!” Danny exclaims, as Scott moans around his cock as Jackson brings him again with a light scrapping of his teeth over his clit before licking and sucking on it.

As Danny unloads down Scott’s throat, Jackson stands over Scott and squeezes his knot to spray his release across his abs, chest, and neck.  As Danny pulls back and slumps on the chair behind him, Jackson trails his fingers over Scott’s skin; covering every inch of him in his scent.  Scott just lays there, his eyes closed and a dopey smile on his face.

 

Jackson was acutely aware of Danny’s eyes watching him as he carefully removed the nipple clamps from Scott’s chest and massage the nubs; Scott moaned and whimpered at the sensation.

“Shh, babe, I need to make sure you’re okay,” he coos at Scott’s ear, “Got to make sure the blood’s flowing.”  He kisses Scott’s forehead at the murmured “M’kay”, and once he’s sure he’s done enough to alleviate the worst of the sensations to Scott’s nipples he lifts the boy from the table, Scott’s arms wrapping around his neck, and he heads towards the stairs.

“Could you bring up his Babydoll, slapper, gag, and clamps,” he calls back to Danny; assuming he’s still staying the night.

 

He has Scott lying on the bed and is kneeling beside him taking off his high-heels, when Danny walks into the room.

“The Babydoll goes in the hamper, the rest of the stuff goes in the trunk beside the closet,” he tells him, as he places the shoes on the floor and starts to remove Scott’s stockings; leaving him naked except for the wrist cuffs and collar.  He gets Scott to sit up against the headboard while he takes the collar and cuffs off, Scott frowning a little at their removal as he hands him a bottle of water, “Here, drink this, while I put these away and get a cloth to clean you up,” he instructs the naked cum-drenched boy.  He puts the collar and cuffs in the trunk and heads to the bathroom making sure that Scott knows he’ll be right back.

“You okay?” he hears Danny asking Scott while he’s picking up a towel and rinsing a cloth under the hot tap.  He isn’t worried about how Scott’s feeling; the level of contentment and satedness radiating from him tells him his boyfriend is happy.  He assumes Scott nods in the affirmative, as Danny adds, “Good,” with a smile as he re-enters the bedroom.

Danny’s eyes never leave him as he wipes Scott down and dries him; Jackson ignores him while he concentrates on Scott.

“Do you want more water?  Some chocolate?  Or are ready for sleep?” he asks him.

“Sleep,” Scott smiles at him.

“Okay,” he smiles back, turning to Danny he tells him, “You can take the right side of the bed; clothing is optional, but Scott and I will be naked.”

“Given my cock has already been down Scott’s throat, I think I can sleep nude like I normally do,” Danny replies.  Both Jackson and Danny strip and climb into either side of the bed, with Scott in the middle.  Jackson wraps an arm around Scott and pulls him to his side, so that Scott turns to him, with his head resting on Jackson’s shoulder, and throws an arm over his chest.  Jackson stroking his hand up and down Scott’s back.

“Night,” Danny calls to them, as Jackson turns off the lights.

“Night,” both Jackson and Scott reply.

 

It doesn’t take long for Scott to fall asleep but, Jackson knows Danny is still awake, and wants to talk; he’s more worried about what he wants to say.

“You really love him,” Danny’s whispered voice reaches his ears.  Jackson considers his answer; the silence stretching in the minutes he takes to answer as he wonders how Stiles could know how he feels about Scott, but his best friend doesn’t.

“Yes,” he finally admits; his voice barely loud enough to be heard.

“When you asked me to help with his heat, and testing if you could share him with others in the pack, I must admit, I wasn’t expecting fifty shades of grey; I didn’t see you as the Christian Grey type.  I knew you could get jealous and possessive but, I was surprised.  I’d read about intersex betas; I know they are very tactile and can be submissive.  I just didn’t realise how submissive.”

“I think the masochism and how submissive he is, is more a Scott thing than him being an intersex beta.  It can be hard to see where the line is though.”

“And your dominance and sadism?  I don’t recall you ever being so forceful with Lydia.”  Jackson turns his head to stare at Danny in the darkness; his wolf sight letting him see clearly.

“What kind of idiot would try to dominate Lydia Martin?  Besides, in all honesty, I don’t think I was aware of this side of me until I realised Scott was my mate.”

“Ah,” Danny exclaims; Jackson figures he should have known that his friend didn’t know he and Scott were mates, “Well, you showed more restraint than I thought you had; letting me get a blow job from him, and sleeping next to him.  But, while I’m willing to help with his heat, if you still want me to, I got to say the BDSM I have to leave to you.  I just can’t do that.”

“Okay,” Jackson replies, “I’m fine with that.”  He’s more than fine with that.

“After tonight, how well do you think you’ll handle sharing him?”

“Tonight, was do-able; tomorrow with Stiles might be more difficult…”

“Because he’s your alpha’s mate?”

“Among other things; but, yes, he’s an alpha’s mate.  And, when an alpha claims Scott… The only reason I think I was able to share him with you tonight, was because I controlled who got to be with him.  Once an alpha claims him, they don’t have to give me that control even though he’s my mate…”

“Derek might; given everything that happened...”

“Maybe, but the pack isn’t exactly bonded right now.  Especially with the alpha and his mate being estranged.”

“Then we need to help Derek and Stiles resolve their problems, and get the pack back together.”  Jackson thinks that it may be easy for Danny to say that, but, even if Derek and Stiles reconcile, he doesn’t know if he will entrust Scott’s safety to anyone else in the pack.

 


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Ethan mewls in torment.

 

It’s always the same in the days leading up to his heat.  The need driving him nearly insane, and being left alone with just his fingers to try and find the release he needs.

“Oh, look at the wretched thing, trying to play with his clit,” he hears Kali mock him.  He won’t beg them, he won’t plead for their help.  He’s made that mistake before.

No matter how much he needs his packs touch, he knows the pain and agony it will bring him.

“He’s just going to have to hope Deucalion still wants to use him on the full moon,” Ennis snorts, “He might decide to wait until he gets the McCall bitch; when he’ll have more chance of breeding some cubs.  Leave this one to its fate.”

“Or he might give it to us,” Kali purrs, and the words chill Ethan to the core, “Let us play with it; then we can see if it can whelp your cubs.”

 

He hears them cackle as they walk away; when they are out of range of his hearing, his fingers make their way inside again as he tries to quell the burning need rising in him.

 


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Scott stretches languidly in the empty bed.

 

He knows that Jackson and Danny are downstairs in the kitchen fixing breakfast.  Jackson told him before they left the room; said to come down when he was ready.  Part of him just wants to curl up in the scent of the bed; of him, Jackson, and the slight traces of Danny.  Of pack.  But he’s starting to feel hungry.

 

It’s so different to how he felt a month ago.  This close to the full moon his heat was controlling him and he couldn’t leave his bedroom for the need to pleasure himself.  He feels the coil of desire in him unfurl and wake, but it’s not as strong as last time.  He can still think clearly, mostly, and function like a conventional person; mostly.  And the only difference is the contact he’s had with pack.  With Jackson, Stiles, and Danny.

 

It makes him wish he hadn’t fought being a wolf; fighting the instinct and needs he had.  Things could have been so much better for the pack.  Things wouldn’t have happened the way they did.  Derek and Stiles wouldn’t be separated like they are just now.

 

He gets up from the bed and pads naked into the bathroom to shower when he remembers he isn’t allowed to shower.  Breathing in, he’s surprised at him much stronger Jackson’s scent on him is.  He brushes his teeth, he’s allowed to do that, and he still has the taste of Danny’s cum in his mouth.  And the reminder of that banishes the melancholy miasma that had started to descend; sparking the heat awake within him.  He finishes rinsing the toothpaste from his mouth and heads back to the bedroom where he sees the seafoam green silk and satin Babydoll that Jackson has set out on the chair for him to wear; he puts it on, catching the sight of the very faded marks on his ass from the spankings in the mirror.  He figures that Jackson must like him in clothes that barely cover him; the garment, like most of the other chemises and Babydolls, stops just after his ass.  This one is not a sheer, see-through, material, though it does have a side split on the right.  He slips his feet into his slippers before heading down to the kitchen.

 

“Hungry?” Jackson asks as he walks into the kitchen.

“Yeah,” he nods.

“Take a seat, I’m just plating up.”

He sits beside Danny at the breakfast bar, the plug nudging against his rear sweet spot.

“How you feeling this morning,” Danny asks him.

“Good,” he smiles at him as Jackson sets a plate of pancakes, eggs, and bacon in front of him.

“There’s OJ and water in the fridge, and coffee in the pot,” Jackson informs them, “Danny, you wanna pour while I fix my plate.”

“OJ,” Scott answers to Danny’s raised eyebrows, and he returns Danny’s smile as he places the filled glass beside his plate.

They eat mostly in silence; Jackson and Danny talking about what would be happening over the last few days of school.

 

When Danny left a couple of hours later, Jackson gave him a hug, and Scott hugged him and, on impulse, kissed his cheek.  Danny chastely kissed him back.

Scott curled up on the sofa with Jackson for a nap, before they’d get ready for Stiles’s visit, feeling more contented and settled than he could remember being over the last few weeks; even if he was apprehensive about how having sex with Stiles would change their relationship.

 


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“It’s a steel bone, black and red leather underbust corset,” Jackson tells him as tightens the cord lacing at the back; Scott stares at himself in the mirror.  The black leather studded with steel, the red satin etched with a black floral design spiralling down the front of the corset, the three chains looping from each side hanging down from the leather buckles.  Buckles that are nothing more than decoration as the thing is fastened with the lacing at the back.  The attached garter belt.  It looks striking.  It looks expensive.

“Breathe in a little more,” Jackson instructs as he pulls the lacing tighter.  Scott is sure his waist has been pulled in by at least three inches.

“How much did this cost?” he asks; earning him a playful slap to his ass.

“The point is not what it cost, but whether you like it,” Jackson growls, less than threateningly, at him, “I think you look good, and with the fishnet stockings, black lace panties, and the red leather ankle boot with the three-inch heel…” Scott sees the blond wolf’s eyes glisten with lust as he describes how he is intending to dress him.

“Am I going to wear the collar and cuffs, and the nipple clamps too?” he asks hopefully.

“If you want to,” Jackson kisses at his shoulder, before nuzzling at his neck.  Scott feels breathless, and he isn’t sure it has anything to do with the corset.  Well, maybe a little, but for all the right reasons.

 

Scott stands as Jackson pulls the panties up his legs, watching in the mirror as he pulls a gasp from him when he presses against the base of the plug in his ass.  He then rolls the fishnet stockings up is legs and attaches the straps from the garter belt on the corset; then has him step into the boots.  Jackson fixes the collar around his neck and kisses his jaw; making Scott lean into the kiss, wanting it to go on.  When the cuffs are locked to the ring at the back of the collar, Jackson plays with his nipples.  Scott whimpers and gasps as the heat rises in groin.

“Please,” he begs.

“Soon,” Jackson responds, kissing his lips.

Then Scott gasps as he feels the clamp biting into him; the sensation of his nipple being squeezed increasing as Jackson slowly increases the tension.  Jackson’s lips are on his, kissing him until he forgets about the bite against his nipple and is kissing him back, only for Jackson to pull back and apply the second clamp to his other nipple.

“Time to go down and wait for Stiles,” Scott hears Jackson say as he moves back from him, and he’s left glassy eyed, looking at himself in the mirror; his panties already wet as the clamps sway and he clenches around the plug in his ass.

 

“Fuck!” Scott hears Stiles’s voice, and looks across at the doorway to see his friend staring at him.  He’s standing beside the coffee table that Jackson and Danny had him across the night before.

“He looks… fuck,” is all Stiles says as he continues to stare open mouthed at him; though Scott assumes he was talking to Jackson.  “Were you going for the steam punk or Rocky Horror look?”

“I wasn’t going for either,” Jackson grumbles, clearly not happy at Stiles’s comparison, “I was going with making my mate happy, and looking hot.”  He continues, irritably, “With a little bit of cock hungry bitch.”

“Well bravo, he certainly looks hot,” Stiles grins as he stalks forward, “Are you happy Scotty?”

“Yes,” Scott blushes as heart begins to hammer in his chest at the predatory gaze his friend is giving him, before Stiles’s eyes flick to the slapper on the table.

“You’ve been playing around with more of his kinks,” Stiles states, turning to Jackson.

“I’m slowly introducing other things he selected on the kink list you provided,” Jackson states, “But it’s Scott’s decision on whether he wants to find out if he’s as into it as he thinks he might be.”

“Huh,” Stiles seems to mull over Jackson’s reply, but he isn’t paying as much attention as he could as he stands there; the way they talk about him as if he wasn’t there feeding into his fantasy of being a nothing more than a sex toy for them.

“I left the ball-gag out today,” Jackson is telling Stiles.

“Ball-gag?”

“Yeah; yesterday while Danny was here Scott was gagged for most of the time as well as cuffed.  Weren’t you?” Jackson asks as he caresses Scott’s cheek; he leans into the touch as he murmurs his assent; he needs this touch so much.  Jackson smiles at him, and Scott forgets Stiles is there until Jackson says, “His nipples are going to need some attention, the clamps have been on for a while now,” and he starts talking Stiles through releasing the tension in them; at that point Scott loses himself to the painful pleasure from the touches, licks, kisses and nips from their fingers, tongues, lips and teeth.

 

He’s kneeling on the coffee table, on all fours as Jackson releases the wrist cuffs from his collar; the nipple clamps are back on his nipples and swinging slights as Jackson’s fingers comb through his hair.

“Colour,” Jackson asks.

“Green,” Scott moans; he needs.  Needs Jackson’s touch to cool the heat he’s feeling.

“Reach behind you and pull your panties down,” he instructs him, “Show Stiles what you’re hiding in there.”

Scott gasps as he steadies himself on his knees, still leaning forward, and grasps the top of his panties, pulling them down to bunch in the garter straps at the top of his stocking.

“Fuck,” he hears Stiles huff behind him, “Look at that shiny jewel; how long has that been hiding there?”  Scott moans at the embarrassment, even as it adds fuel to the need.

“He picked it out a couple of days ago, and has kept it in practically ever since,” Jackson answers as he leans down and kisses Scott’s lips.

“Please,” Scott begs; not sure what he’s begging for.

“Please what, Scotty?” he hears Stiles ask him.

“Please, I need…”

“What do you need babe?” the way Jackson calls him ‘babe’ adding to the fire he’s starting to feel.

“Fuck…” he gasps.

“We’ll get to that,” Jackson snorts, “But first I think you need spanking to warm that pretty ass of yours.”

“Please…” he chokes out just before Jackson’s palm lands with a resounding SMACK.

As SMACK after SMACK lands on his ass, building the heat and turning his cheeks first pink then red, Scott clenches around the steel plug as he moans; his hands gripping the edge of the table as he raises his ass to meet Jackson’s hand.

“Fuck,” he hears Stiles exhale, “You enjoying that Scotty?”

“Oh, my babe is enjoying himself,” Jackson replies for him, even as his hand keeps landing, “Trust me.  Don’t you smell the pheromones?”

“Yeah,” Stiles answers after taking a sniff of the air, “God, I’m human and even I can smell them.  I’m so fucking horny now.”

“Do you want to take over?  Use the slapper on his ass for a bit?” he hears Jackson enquire as the spanking slows, “Before we get to the main event.”

He hears a ‘whooshing’ sound before Stiles answers with an enthusiastic, “Hell yeah.”

There’s a rush of pain as the clamps are removed from his nipples and he gasps and hisses as Jackson’s fingers tweak and massage the blood flow back into them.

“Babe,” Jackson demands his attention, “Before I let Stiles paddle your ass with the slapper, I want you to give me a colour.”

“Please Jacks, Sir, please…” he pleads, he wants to feel Jackson in him; he needs him to give him release.

“Colour or we stop…”

“Green; please don’t stop… so close… I just need you…”

“You’ve got me,” Jackson confirms, pushing his cock into Scott’s mouth as Stiles lands the first blow from the slapper on his ass.

Scott moans around the thickness in his mouth as he feels the sting of the slapper landing relentlessly on his already spank heated ass.  SLAP.  SLAP.  SLAP.  SLAP.  SLAP.  SLAP.  SLAP.  SLAP.  SLAP.  SLAP.  SLAP.  SLAP.

The sting and pain and heat meld into a constant radiating burning heat as he keens around Jackson’s cock, his body shuddering with the release he sprays across the table.

 

His head is on Jackson’s shoulder.  He’s sitting astride his lap as Jackson straddles the table, and he feels the press of Stiles at his back.  His ass burns, and he’s sure it will still be red tomorrow; and he still feels the need churning in him, even though he knows he came from the spanking while sucking Jackson’s cock.

“How you doin’ babe?” Jackson asks him, “Ready for us to fuck you?”

“Please,” he croaks.

“Stiles will take your plug out and fuck your ass, while I knot your pussy; okay?”

“Please, Sir… Jacks…”

“Please what, babe?”

“Please fuck me…” he feels Jackson slide into him as he gives his consent; followed by the tug against his ass ring as Stiles pulls the steel butt plug out of him and sinks his cock in.

 

He revels in the sensation of them thrusting in and out; their rhythm asynchronous, and each of them hitting the bundle of nerves, front and back, that are driving him towards another climax.  He soon feels the familiar tug as Jackson’s knot swells and instinctively pushes towards it; needing to be tied to him.  As Jackson’s knot locks them together, the short rapid jabs brushing his clit is in sharp contrast the long hasty thrusts of Stiles cock prodding his prostate.

Jackson kisses along his neck, and jawline, until he’s taking his mouth as passionately; while behind him he can feel Stiles’s quickening breaths against his neck.

“Fuck, oh god, I’m close, I’m gonna come, I’m coming,” Stiles cries as he grips Scott tightly and his thrusts stutter and stop as Scott tightens around the knot in front and Stiles behind as his own climax overtakes him.

 

The next thing he’s aware of is being naked in bed, his arms around Jackson in front of him, and Stiles’s arms around him from behind.

“Do you want some water?” Jackson asks.  He nods in reply and accepts the bottle passed to him; drinking half before passing back to Jackson.

“You were so good, babe,” Jackson tells him, and he can’t help but smile at the compliment.

“So fucking good,” Stiles mumbles from behind.

“We’re going to take good care of you when your heat hits for real tomorrow,” Jackson kisses him.

All Scott can think is how sated he feels, and how much better this time is from his last heat.

 

 

Chapter Text

 

 

Scott wakes between two warm bodies pressed against him, Stiles at his back, with his boner pressing against his ass cheek; and Jackson in front of him, an arm wrapped around him pulling him tightly against him.  Even in sleep his boyfriend gets protective and possessive of him; and he kinda likes it.

He’s also aware of the want rising in him; calmer than the all-consuming need he felt for days in the lead up to his last heat.  But still, slowly, becoming insistent.  He lies there in the warmth of Stiles and Jackson surrounding him, but it’s becoming stifling; his pussy now sopping wet with need.

“Jacks, please,” he whines, and his boyfriend is instantly awake, taking a breath of the air before his mouth claims him, and his fingers slide into the wet heat of Scott’s sex.

“Wha…?” Stiles sleepily slurs behind him. 

“Scott’s heat has started,” Jackson takes his mouth off Scott’s to reply, and taking his fingers from his pussy.  Scott whines at the loss, confused at his mate’s abandonment, until he feels himself dragged into position across the width of the bed, with pillows under his shoulders; making his head fall back.  He realises that Jackson is kneeling on the floor at the edge of the bed, and his ass is resting on the edge.  “Feed him your cock,” Jackson growls at Stiles; Scott’s opens his mouth wide in response.

 

Quickly, but not quick enough for Scott’s needs, he feels the silky head of Stiles’s cock press against his tongue, and he closes his lips around the flesh, sucking it in to him.  His back arches and his legs wrap around Jackson’s shoulders as the kneeling man’s tongue flicks against his clit.  Soon, Scott is lost the sensations of Stiles hardness hitting the back of his throat and Jackson’s tongue lapping and his teeth nipping at his labia lips.

Stiles knees are either side of Scott’s head, and his hands roughly grasp and pull his head into position as his hips start to jackhammer; thrusting his cock back and forth into Scott’s throat.  In response Scott tries to grind his sex against Jackson mouth, but he’s held down as Jackson bites at his nether lips, and teases his clit with his tongue, a hand spanking the cheeks of his ass.  The attention his body is receiving has his toes curling as he roars around Stiles’s cock, but his shuddering orgasm doesn’t stop the relentless pleasurable pain his bed mates are giving him. 

 

Stiles cock continues to thrust in and out of his mouth.  Jackson’s hand rains slap, after slap, after slap on his ass, and his teeth nip and bite and scrape against his clit and inner and outer labia.  As the taste of Stiles fills his mouth, a second orgasm rocks his body.  As Stiles’s cock leaves his mouth, Jackson’s mouth leaves Scott’s sex and he feels the familiar girth of Jackson’s hardness push past the bitten swollen lips of his pussy.  The brush of his cock over his sensitive clit has him moaning and writhing in the ecstasy of an orgasm that never seems to end.  As Jackson’s knot plunges into him he blacks out; his lips stretching wide in a smile from the bliss flooding his body.

 

Scott wakes, lying on top of Jackson, whose knot is still locked inside him. 

“Happy Birthday,” he says clenching around the still engorged knot, eliciting a moan from the other wolf.

“Keep that up and we’ll be stuck here for hours,” Jackson teases him.  He looks around the room for Stiles.  “He’s in the shower,” Jackson informs him, “How are you feeling?”

“Huh?” Scott frowns.

“Your heat, dummy; how are you feeling?”

“Fine, I think.  It’s weird, but it doesn’t feel anywhere near as intense as last time; it was kinda non-stop.  I remember I couldn’t even think straight, but just now it’s like this low thrumming.  I’m crazy horny, but I can ignore it.  I just wish it wasn’t ruining your birthday.”

“Ruining my birthday?” Jackson laughs, “I get to spend the day ordering my boyfriend around, and keeping him naked; fucking him non-stop, in any way I can imagine.  I’m more than happy knowing I will be spending the entire day taking care of you.  Happy birthday to me, happy birthday to me,” he sings.

“Happy birthday to Jackson, happy birthday to you,” Stiles adds as he enters the room, a towel wrapped around his waist, “Any idea where I left my clothes?” he asks, “I got to head home, and change for school.”

“Downstairs,” Jackson informs him.

“Okay,” Stiles says, “Sorry to cut and run,” he steps over to the bed, and kisses Scott on the lips, adding, “I’ll be back later for the birthday orgy, and to fuck your brains out when needed,” before heading to the door commenting, “Happy birthday, Jackson.”

 

“So,” Jackson drawls, “Now, I’m gonna fuck you on the window sill, and then we’ll head to the kitchen for some breakfast, where I’ll fuck you again.”

Scott is lost for words, but he can feel his heat rising again at the prospect.

 



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“Derek, I need you to think of super-sexy things and fill this little, big, container,” Stiles announces as he walks into his house, with Danny right behind him.  They both hear the ‘thunk’ of something hitting the wooden dining table, and the sound of something smashing on the kitchen floor.

 

Heading in the direction of the sounds they find Isaac with his head on the table, his hands over his ears, and looking through to the kitchen, Stiles feels his heart leap up into his throat.  Derek is standing ramrod straight, coffee pot in hand, and his dad is standing beside him, his favourite coffee mug in pieces on the floor.

 

“Dad,” Stiles coughs, “I didn’t realise you’d be home already.”

“I’m gonna pretend I didn’t hear what I DID NOT hear, and just ask how you think you did on your exam,” his dad says through gritted teeth.  Derek hasn’t moved a muscle.  He’s still clutching the coffee pot in his hand, he hasn’t even closed his mouth from where it’s slightly open in shock; even his eyebrows are still raised into his hairline.

“Fine, it was easy,” he replies.

“Good.  So, I’m going back to the station now; Tara called in sick, and I need to work her shift, which is why I was unfortunately back here to NOT hear anything, and I’d appreciate it if someone cleaned up and replaced my broken mug.  And, I don’t want anything I would not approve of happening under my roof.”  He heads out the door.  They hear the cruiser engine as it starts.

“His cruiser is out there?” Stiles asks.

“In the drive where he parked,” Isaacs supplies; his head still face down on the table.

“We walked right past it,” Danny adds.

“Really?  I never noticed it.”

“Stiles,” Derek grinds out from behind clenched teeth, “What were you…” he doesn’t get to finish.

“Sorry, we’re on the clock here.  It’s the full moon tonight and…”

“I’m aware of that,” Derek states.

“And,” Stiles emphasis, “Scott’s heat,” Stiles hears Isaac groan behind him; clearly distressed at the memory.  He ignores it, feeling a little vindictive, and carries on, “He’s spending it at Jackson’s; Danny and I are joining them.  But after his heat, he needs a new batch of the bonding potion.  So, you fill this,” he hands the empty vial to Derek, “And I fill this,” he holds up a smaller vial, “And then Danny and I mix the potion and we’ll be on our way.”

“If you’re going to… help Scott during his heat are you sure you should…” Derek begins asking.

“Trust me, my teenage hormones are more than up to the task,” Stiles holds out the larger vial, shaking it back and forth in front of the alpha werewolf.

Derek snatches the vial from Stiles’s hand and stomps towards the stairs; Stiles is hot on his heels.

“Where are you going?” Derek turns and asks; a hopeful panic in his voice.

“To my room, you can use the bathroom; I’m sure Isaac doesn’t want to sleep in a room filled with the smell of your jizz.”

 

Stiles watches as Derek closes the bathroom door behind him, and quickly closes his bedroom door.  Despite the need to take himself in hand, he just doesn’t feel in the mood.  He’d turn to one of his bookmarked sites for inspiration, but he doesn’t want the wolves overhearing what he would be watching; so, he thinks back to last night with Scott and Jackson.  Far easier than he had expected, but then maybe that was Scott’s pheromones, or the way he was dressed; whatever it was, it certainly got him in the mood.  Just recalling the way Scott reacted to being spanked, the feel of Scott’s skin as his ass reddened and heated under his touch is enough to get him started, the heat of Scott’s ass clenching around his cock as he fucked him, and Jackson took him from the front, speeds his hand faster along his length… by the time Stiles is spilling into the vial, memories are replaced with fantasies; and Jackson replaced by Derek, and Scott isn’t between them.

 

Derek isn’t sure he can perform the task at hand.  He just isn’t… feeling it.  Dropping his pants and underwear, he rests his ass against the countertop and, wetting his hand with some lotion, wraps his fingers around his soft phallus.  He strokes the length and teases the head and his cock stirs, but not enough.  His thoughts turn to Stiles, and he feels the stirring of emotions; he knows his mate is beginning to feel arousal, and sends his blood racing where he needs it.

Feeding off the emotions he is feeling through the bond with his mate he begins to stroke his hardened length with purpose.  And he knows it’s wrong, but he listens across the hallway, he can hear the panting breaths and flap of skin on skin from Stiles’s room.  Stiles is close, and bringing Derek closer with him, but it’s the whispered ‘Derek’ that sends him over the edge; and he tries not to let it give him hope of being able to make things right.

 



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Scott is lying on the couch; naked.  Jackson hasn’t allowed him to put any clothes on.  All day.  Unless the collar around his neck and the cuffs around his wrists and ankles count; he was sure that his jewelled butt plug didn’t.  He was lying on the edge of the couch, but was in no danger of falling to the floor.  Jackson was spooning him from behind, an arm thrown over his waist, and his fingers teasing along folds of Scott’s, very wet, sex as he pushed his jean covered bulge against the base of the metal plug in his ass.

He felt his heat simmering, nothing like the all-consuming torment of his last heat; no doubt kept at bay by the fact that Jackson was using him constantly, making sure he got all the sex his body craved.

He’d been fucked to multiple orgasms in bed, and face fucked by Stiles before he left for school.

He’d been pushed with his back up against the window, his ass on the sill and his legs wrapped around Jackson’s waist, and fucked as Jackson bit at his collarbone and chest.  He hopes that no-one across the street saw or heard them.

He’d been fucked from behind, leaning over the breakfast bar, his ass clenching down on the butt plug as Jackson bit along his shoulders and back, and knotted his pussy; again.

He’d been fucked while spread across the coffee table; there had been more biting.

Jackson has also spanked him.  Made him kneel on the bed, the window open, as his hand landed on his upturned ass, over and over.  Then took him over his knee, to reheat his ass from the morning spanking, not stopping until Scott had shuddered through another orgasm, squirting over his leg, just from the reddening of his ass.

Then there’s the vibrating egg.  Whenever Jackson hasn’t been fucking him, the egg has been in his pussy, on a low setting, buzzing away.

The egg isn’t in him now.  It’s on the coffee table; along with the paddle and the nipple clamps.  For later.

“Give me a colour,” Jackson demands of him; it’s been a recurring question throughout the day.  And Scott’s only had one answer; he’s not sure why his boyfriend thinks it will change.

“Green,” he languidly replies, tilting his head back to rub his cheek against Jackson’s as he pushes his hips forward trying to get those fingers inside him.

 

Jackson smirks as he moves his fingers further out of Scott’s reach, then nips at the jawline of his pouting mate.

“Hey guys, we’re finally here,” Stiles voice calls from the hallway.

“We’re in the lounge,” Jackson calls to them, not wanting to move from where he has Scott pressed against him.

“Happy birthday,” Danny says from behind Stiles as they enter, “Definitely a very happy birthday,” he adds when he sees Scott naked and stretched out in front of Jackson.

“It definitely is,” Jackson agrees.

 



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He tried to hide; tried to be anywhere but with ‘the pack’.  But Ennis found him, telling him how he could ‘smell your dripping cunt a mile away, bitch’.

Now Ethan is in the middle of the rented apartment’s living room, naked, and surrounded by Deucalion, Ennis, and Kali.  His brother is there too, somewhere in the background; he thinks Aiden hates his heats as much as he does.

Currently they have him straddling a dinning chair, fucking himself on two dildos that are stuck to the seat by their suction cups.  One dildo in his pussy, the other in his ass.  His arms and hands are bound behind his back; giving him no way to steady himself as he squats down on the hard rubber cocks, and raises himself up and nearly off them.  The only reason his cock is hard is because he’s in heat.

 

“Come on, bitch,” Deucalion huffs in impatience at him, “The sooner you cum on the fake cocks, the sooner I’ll consent to give you mine.”  Ethan can hear the lack of enthusiasm.  He knows that even if he does catch, and carry the cubs to term, Deucalion’s sights are on getting Scott McCall filled with his litter.

“You have five more minutes, then, if you haven’t cum, I’m letting Ennis and Kali have you through the rest of your heat,” the alpha of alphas warns him.

 

He keeps fucking himself over, and over, trying to avoid that fate.

 



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Scott is laying across the coffee table on his back, the cuffs on his wrists tethered to the table legs.  His head hanging over one edge, where Danny is kneeling with his cock sliding into Scott’s mouth, fucking his face.  His tongue swirling around the spongy head as it moves back and forth.

His legs are over Jackson’s shoulders, who’s kneeling at the other end of the table, his head in Scott’s crotch as he licks and nips along the folds of his sex.  Jackson’s tongue slipping inside and teasing his clit, and occasionally his teeth scraping gently along the sensitive nub, making Scott squirm in need, his thighs squeezing Jackson’s head as the sensations thrum through his body.

Stiles is playing with Scott’s exposed chest.  His tongue flicking at his nipples, his teeth grazing over them.  While he works over one of Scott’s nipples with his mouth, his fingers deftly tweak, and pinch, and twist, and pull on the other.

“I’m close,” he hears Danny gasp above him, and Jackson begins to attack his clit in earnest, making him clench around the steel plug still in his ass.  Jackson’s tongue is replaced by his fingers rubbing over the bundle of nerves.

“Stiles, bite at his chest,” Jackson directs, before Scott feels his teeth nipping at his labia, and Stiles teeth catch the skin around his nipple and he feels the pinch on his flesh.

He moans around Danny’s cock as the Hawaiian elf grasps his head and fills his mouth with his cum, with the ministrations to his body by Stiles and Jackson it’s more than enough to send Scott over the edge to his own quivering climax, his body bucking off the table, his legs tightening around Jackson’s head, and his asshole clenching tightly around the seated butt plug.

 

But his friends and his mate are not finished with him yet.  His heat is not over.

 

Scott is pulled up into Jackson’s arms, his legs wrapping around Jackson’s waist and Jackson’s cock sinks into his wet pussy.  Jackson takes his mouth in a kiss as he walks them back to the couch.  As Jackson sits with him straddling his lap he feels the plug pulled from his ass, and turns to see Stiles kneeling behind him, and sliding his thick cock into his ass.

“Come on baby,” Jackson encourages him, “Fuck yourself on our cocks.”

And he does.  Pushing his hips back and forth, fucking himself on Jackson’s cock sliding over his clit, and Stiles’s cock hitting his prostate; both stimulating the pleasure spots inside his body.  The feeling spreading through him as the sensation takes hold, and when he can’t move, except for the spasms of the orgasm making him clench down on them, they take over.  Thrusting into him in unison, his orgasm keeps rolling over him; never stopping.  He feels light headed, his focus on what’s happening fading into the constant euphoric sensation.  When Jackson’s knot begins to catch on his pussy lips, tugging at him with every push and pull, he almost doesn’t notice, but once they are tied, and Jackson is jackhammering into him with short hard thrusts, he slumps against his mate, his toes curling, his back arching, and his ass griping Stiles’s cock so tightly he can barely fuck him, and he passes out.

 

When he comes around, he’s lying on top of Jackson; who’s lying down on the couch.  They are still tied, Jackson’s knot still locking them together.  He looks across and sees Danny and Stiles sitting on the other couch, both still naked, each with a glass of soda.

“Want a drink?” Jackson asks him.

“Hmm, yeah,” he replies, feeling parched.  Danny hands Jackson a glass filled with orange fizzy liquid, ice and a straw.  He holds it, so that Scott can take the straw between his lips.  He sucks, long and hard, enjoying the refreshing cool drink.

“How you are doing?” Jackson asks.

“Good,” Scott smiles down at him, “It hasn’t been as bad as before,” he adds, referring to his heat, “I mean I’m aware of the need, it’s still there, but not as painful.  It’s been a lot easier this time.”

“Good,” Jackson smiles back, “So, how about once you finish your drink, we take this upstairs.”

Scott quickly finishes his drink.

 



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Ethan screams.

 

“Fuck!” Ennis grunts behind him, “Your cunt is so fucking tight.  Even after the opening you up again with the rubber toy from the chair.”

To Ethan it feels like Ennis is shoving his arm into him, but he knows it’s not; both his hands are holding tightly to his waist.  As he shoves another six inches into him, Ethan screams into Kali’s sex as she grinds against his mouth.

With his arms still bound behind him, Ethan lays there as they use him.  As they ‘take care’ of him through his heat.

 

And that’s what he hates the most.  Despite the pain and the abuse, his cock is hard and his heat is being sated.  They’ve used him like this before; when he wasn’t in heat and he had displeased Deucalion.  His cock wasn’t hard then.

They berated him for being an ungrateful bitch who should be thankful.

He just wanted the pain to end.  Whatever it took to end it.

But it didn’t end.  And it continues; whether he is in heat or not.

 

Soon, Ennis has steady rhythm going as he pounds into Ethan’s pussy, his slick dripping from his ass and his pussy, coating Ennis’s cock as it pistons in and out of him.  And as the