Derek narrowed his eyes, leaning in closer to look at the screen of Stiles’ laptop. It was still early--the kids digesting their breakfasts in the living room with some reruns of Playhouse Disney. Since Derek still had a few minutes before he needed to head into work, Stiles had decided it was as good a time as any to bring up the subject of hormone treatment in Andy’s future.
“Is it dangerous?” he asked, shoulder bumping Stiles’.
Stiles shook his head, “it’s a hormone blocker, not a remover. It won’t hurt her and it’s completely reversible. If anything, it gives everyone more time to decide.”
“You’ve thought a lot about this.”
“I get bored during naptime.”
Derek fell silent and Stiles turned back to his laptop to pull up another page detailing hormone injections.
“When she gets estrogen around fourteen or fifteen, that’s when she really starts to physically become a girl…” Stiles glanced up at Derek, his words trailing off when a pair of lips pressed against his own. Derek kissed him, slow and lazy, muffling away any and all words that tried to escape Stiles’ mouth. Stiles let him, returning the kiss and enjoying the few minutes of alone time they had. Derek cupped his cheek, giving Stiles one last peck that was loud in the quiet kitchen, before he finally pulled back with a tiny smile.
“For what?” Stiles grinned back despite his confusion. Derek shook his head, leaning in and stealing another kiss.
“Being you,” he answered, standing up and ruffling Stiles’ hair. “I have to get to work.”
“Hey,” Stiles turned in his seat, watching Derek head for the fridge to grab his protein shake. “Is it cool if some friends come over? They’re great with kids and… well… it’s my best friend--I think it’s be good if he got to meet Andy and Olly sometime.”
Shaking up his drink, Derek contemplated Stiles’ request for a moment. “It’s fine--you mean Scott, right?”
Stiles couldn’t help but grin at the fact that Derek actually remembered, “yeah, and Isaac too, probably.”
Derek sipped at his protein shake. “Don’t break anything.”
“You say that like I’m throwing a party.”
“With you?” Derek crossed back over to the table, reaching out to fluff Stiles’ bangs, “it’s always a party.”
“Hah. You’re hilarious,” Stiles swatted at Derek’s hand, “go to work.”
“Mhm,” Derek hummed, snagging Stiles’ hand and moving it away so he could steal a kiss. “I’ve got a lunch meeting, but I’ll be home around six,” he muttered, releasing Stiles’ hand and walking backwards out of the kitchen like he was trying to keep looking for as long as possible.
Stiles rolled his eyes, pulling his phone out to text Scott about coming over.
Isaac and Scott ended up being a hit with the children. Andy took instantly to Isaac, falling in complete adoration with his clumsiness and ability to construct any castle with her building blocks. Olly spent a good hour hiding in Stiles’ side before he finally was coaxed out by Scott’s charm and plethora of knowledge involving sea animals that came from being a veterinary assistant.
While Scott had gotten a lot of family and friend support after he’d been turned, Isaac hadn’t been so fortunate--instead falling back to the care system provided by The Center for Lycanthropy Control and Regulation. It was a little unsettling to see him in awe of Derek’s house in the same way a person would be when interacting with their favorite celebrity.
He settled down after the initial half hour of looking around the house in amazement, finding himself dragged into a round of tic tac toe with Andy. Scott, on the other hand, switched his focus from drawing sea animals with Olly, to Stiles.
Stiles looked up from his coloring page, “huh?”
Scott gestured to Stiles’ person, mouth twisting into a grimace. Olly picked up his crayons and paper and shuffled over to Stiles to climb into his lap. Stiles made room for him, rearranging Olly’s legs so they were both comfortable and that Stiles could continue coloring even while Olly took up most of the space in front of him.
“I don’t know sign language,“ Stiles pointed out, “and I don’t think that was actually sign language, anyway.”
Looking thoughtful, Scott shrugged and waved a hand at his throat. “I guess I know why you un-quit.”
Stiles’ hand shot up to his neck, fingers touching where he’d completely forgotten that Derek had eagerly bit and sucked a hickey into his skin that morning when Stiles had shown up. He felt his skin burn hot--Andy and Olly had been completely oblivious about it and he hadn’t thought about the fact that Scott and Isaac would notice it eventually. A big purpling bruise poking out of his shirt collar wasn’t exactly subtle, after all.
“Yeah,” Stiles said intelligently, shrugging, “I mean, well, you know.”
“I get it,” Scott interrupted, fiddling with his crayon. “You’re happy, man.”
Andy let out a delighted laugh as she beat Isaac for the third time. Isaac stared down at the tic tac toe paper in confusion.
While Stiles pet Olly’s hair absently, Scott gave him a nod. “Yeah, I mean. It’s hard to explain, I guess. You just… feel better?”
“What, does being a werewolf come with psychic powers, now?” Stiles teased, even though, in a way, he kind of understood what Scott was trying to say.
Scott rolled his eyes, reaching across the table to steal one of Stiles’ blue crayons. “When you stopped working for them, you kind of just stopped trying. Like, dude, seriously? I think you only showered one or two times that week.”
“I totally showered more than two times.” Stiles protested, even though he couldn’t honestly remember if that was true or not. Scott snorted in that way that meant he knew Stiles was lying but he wasn’t going to argue.
“Yeah, sure you did,” he muttered with a smothered grin. “Anyway, me and Allison are gonna go bowling tonight. Wanna come?”
Stiles entertained the idea of turning him down, if only because that meant he could spend some more time with Derek when he got home, but decided that he missed Scott too much to say no.
“Yeah, dude. I’m game.”
Scott’s smile was blinding and delighted, not even dimmed when Olly reached across the table to take all of his yellow crayons. “Cool.”
It was a couple hours later when Isaac and Scott left so that Stiles could put Andy and Olly down for their naps. Scott had to meet up with Allison for a late lunch with her family and Isaac had laundry to do. Stiles wasn’t sure how much of their excuses were true and how much were said in a panic when Andy started to pitch a fit and run streaking through the house at the mention of naptime.
Luckily for Stiles’ stress levels, as soon as Isaac and Scott left, Andy settled down and went to sleep with much less fuss than she’d initially been putting up. Olly was a little easier, if only because Stiles just had to give him a few extra kisses on the head and tell him how well he’d behaved and that Stiles was proud of him.
The rest of the afternoon up until Derek came home was passed by with hide and seek, a round of castle, and two hours in the back yard. Even Stiles felt exhausted by the time Derek walked in the front door and scooped Andy and Olly up for their ‘welcome home’ kisses. Stiles got a kiss of his own--which was still something Stiles was trying to wrap his head around--and they all settled down at the dinner table with the takeout that Derek had brought in with him.
“How was work?” Stiles put some noodles onto Andy and Olly’s plates, making sure to pick out the onions for Andy as he did so. Derek grunted, making his own plate and shrugging.
“Peter’s been hell,” he began. Just hearing Peter’s name made Stiles’ gut twist, and if Derek noticed, he didn’t acknowledge more than flitting his eyes up to lock with Stiles’ before going back to his plate.
“Yeah?” Stiles urged quietly, dumping sweet and sour chicken onto his own plate.
Derek paused mid-chew of an egg roll, thought for a moment, and then shook his head. “He’s trying to take more of the company than we agreed on. I…don’t trust him enough for that.”
“He does seem a little skeevy,” Stiles admitted weakly, “he broke Andy’s doll that one time.”
“And he did something to you,” Derek added, eyes lifting, “that you won’t tell me.”
Stiles’ gut clenched like lead ice had been dropped into it. He sucked in a sharp breath, forcing a tight smile and taking a forceful bite of chicken. “Nothing to tell, sweetheart.”
At Derek’s frustrated stare, Stiles ducked his head down and dug into his food.
The subject didn’t come up again until after Andy and Olly went down for bed. Stiles was heading into the living room to pack his things up when Derek caught him by the elbow.
“Scott’s not picking you up for another hour .”
“Yeah, but I was gonna get my stuff ready so we could make out for a little bit,” Stiles blurted, because when all else failed, blunt honesty seemed to work well with Derek. Derek made a face between amusement and exasperation before he sighed.
“Are you going to keep avoiding this? Why won’t you tell me what he did?”
“I don’t want to,” Stiles said truthfully, scrambling for an explanation without bringing up any inkling of what had occurred. He dragged in a deep breath, pulling Derek‘s hand from his elbow and intertwining their fingers. “I don’t want to because, for once, I would like a few days without any drama, okay? I just…I want to enjoy what I have. So excuse me for trying to keep it that way.”
There was truth in his words, too. He did long for a few days of peace. He wanted just a week or two where the biggest worry of his life was what to make for dinner, and not who he would have to go head-to-head with that day.
Derek looked down at their hands and then dragged his eyes up to lock with Stiles’. “Okay,” he said softly, “for now.”
Relieved, Stiles grinned and pulled Derek in for a much-deserved kiss.
When Scott finally showed up to pick Stiles up, it was with great reluctance that Stiles woke up from his power-nap on the couch with Derek’s thigh as a pillow. They had been talking about Andy and Olly starting school next fall, but between the calm atmosphere and Derek’s fingers carding through his hair, Stiles had drifted off like a babe lulled to sleep.
Derek saw him off at the door with a parting kiss and a reminder not to drink too much since he still needed to watch the twins tomorrow. Scott was driving his mom’s car (which meant he was ‘dressed to impress’ since his beat up beamer left something to be desired on most days) and greeted Stiles with a wry grin at the sight of his kiss-swollen mouth.
“Yeah, dude. You totally turned into one of those pornos where the dad bones the babysitter.”
“Better than the porn about the lonely cat guy who works at a veterinary clinic. Wait. They don’t have one. Because your life sucks too much to make into a porno.”
Scott made an affronted noise, pulling onto the main road. “I feel like you’re insulting my cats.”
“That’s what you got from that?”
“Krypto and BamBam are nicer to me than you are.” Scott pointed out, “they love me unconditionally.”
“I still don’t get why you named the cat after the kid and not their dog. You had the potential for a theme with Krypto.”
“Dude,” Scott cried, “we’ve had this argument like, five times!”
“Okay, okay. Jeez.” Stiles slunk down into his seat, biting back the urge to grin and harp on Scott just for the sake of being difficult. He’d missed their easy bickering--even if it was over something as mundane as what Scott had named his cat and why. He had that with Derek, but it wasn’t the same. This, with Scott, was familiar and natural in a way that only came from years of knowing something. There was also the added aspect that conversations with Scott weren’t charged with loads of sexual tension like with Derek.
The car ride’s conversation went over topics varying from which gaming console was superior, to the probability of choking on Cocoa Puffs when Scott finally pulled into the bowling alley. Stiles’ heart felt lighter than it had in months now that the weight of his and Derek’s relationship was gone and he was able to spend some quality time with his best friend.
That happiness was like breathing a new life into Stiles, giving him a second-wind after an exhausting day with the twins and trying to avoid discussing Peter with Derek. He couldn’t wait to see Allison and give her the biggest hug to make up for almost two weeks of not being able to see her.
Stiles’ excitement at seeing Allison again drained out of him like water through his fingers when he saw the woman sitting next to her by their lane.
Kate laughed at something Allison said, flicking a few blonde locks over one shoulder and smiling. Her grin only widened when she caught sight of Stiles and Scott, eyes landing on Stiles like he was her favorite toy in the world. Stiles didn’t feel much better than a mouse caught between a cat’s claws, especially when Scott was pushing him forward obliviously. He was pretty sure the intent was to introduce Stiles to the only person that could effectively ruin his night with just a few choice threats.
Threats that involved things like Derek, Andy and Olly‘s wellbeing.
Despite how Stiles’ feet felt glued to the ground, having a werewolf for a best friend meant that Scott had no problems manhandling Stiles towards the two women saving their spot.
“I need bowling shoes,” Stiles squeaked desperately, trying to find at least some reason to avoid going over to Allison and Kate. Scott huffed.
“Dude, you texted me your shoe size earlier, remember? They already got our shoes. Come on, man. You’re making me look bad. I want her aunt to like me.”
Of course, since Scott didn’t know about Kate’s history as being an evil child-snatcher, he would see nothing wrong with getting on Kate’s good side. Stiles would really rather not. In fact, the only side of Kate he wanted to get on was the one where Stiles pushed her off a cliff.
Resigned, Stiles allowed Scott to guide him to their lane, greeting Allison’s apologetic look with a tight smile and taking the bowling shoes she handed him. Kate mostly ignored Stiles in favor of gushing over Scott’s eyes and face and general existence. It made Stiles sick to his stomach--just thinking of the way she would have used those same words on Derek. Even the idea of her touching him and being intimate with him…it made Stiles’ stomach burn with unease.
He loved Andy and Olly with all of his heart, but he did not love the woman who gave birth to them. Just listening to her act like nothing was wrong--talking and teasing with Allison and Scott--it made Stiles even more determined to keep her away from the children and from Derek. He wouldn’t let her break this family up. He wouldn’t let her hurt them again.
Not when they were his now.
Most of Kate’s behavior stank of falsities, like a front put up to make herself more likable. She would flick Scott’s bangs or squeeze Allison into a sideways hug, but always made sure to politely include Stiles into the conversation. It was like she was mocking him, saying ‘here I am, and there’s nothing you can do. I’m everywhere, poisoning the people you love. You’re helpless.’
When Scott decided it was time to get nachos and that he needed Allison’s help carrying the food, Stiles used it as an excuse to escape to the bathroom. There were two restrooms in the bowling alley, but Stiles went to the one close to the front desk because it was more secluded and had the added protection of a security camera in every direction. They’d been installed two years ago and Stiles was only aware of that fact because his dad had been the one leading the investigation on the gunpoint robbery that had resulted in the cameras.
He hid in the stalls for ten minutes, texting back and forth with Derek--who was apparently staying up past his normal bed time. Stiles had no idea why, because even though they were now in a relationship, Derek was cranky when he didn’t get enough sleep, and all they were talking about was if Nathan Fillion was more entertaining as Captain Hammer or Captain Mal.
When enough time passed that Stiles figured Scott and Allison were back, he stuck his cell into his pocket and wandered back out of the bathroom. He wasn’t expecting to bump into Kate upon exiting. Then again, it was less of a bump and more of Kate standing outside the restrooms, arms crossed and shoulder leaning against the wall.
“About time. I was starting to think you’d drowned yourself from a swirlie or something,” she chuckled. Stiles stiffened, reflexively dropping down a hand to his pocket where he’d stuck his phone. Kate pushed herself up, stepping in close to him. “I bet you were the king of swirlies in high school, right? Getting them, I mean.”
“If we’re judging based on personality,” Stiles began tightly, “I’d assume you were one of the kids who had to pretend to be someone else. Why? I don’t know, probably because nobody liked your real personality enough to be your friend. It‘s kind of toxic--like that kid in class who never showers.”
The only outward sign that Kate gave to Stiles’ words affecting her was a thinning of her smirk as she shouldered herself in close. “Come on, sweet cheeks,” she said lowly, “tell me about those cute boys. I want to know everything.”
“You would if you hadn’t tried to kill them before they’d been born. If you actually cared about them as more than experiments.”
Kate snorted, rolling her eyes dramatically. “He sure does play it up, doesn’t he? So how much is he paying you for this. You’re what, the super nanny with a side of sweet ass for daddy wolf?”
“He’s not paying me,” Stiles hissed, swallowing thickly and then struggling to keep his breathing calm. “Unlike some people, I actually have a heart.”
The smirk on Kate’s face widened as she reached out to flick one of the buttons on Stiles’ plaid overshirt. “You’d have to be paid to put up with his depressing attitude. ‘Boo hoo, my whole family died and I’m all alone. I don’t trust anyone because I have all this responsibility because I‘m practically an orphan.’ Come on,” Kate drawled, upper lip curled in disgust. Stiles curled his hands into fists, willing himself not to break his personal rule on violence against women.
Grabbing the lapel of Stiles’ overshirt, Kate gave it a tug as she ducked in until to whisper, “whatever he’s paying you? I can double it. Just let me see my kids.”
Incensed, Stiles pried her hand from his shirt and backed up to try and get around her. “You couldn’t pay me five million dollars to let you see those kids. You lost that chance a long time ago, lady,” he snapped, cringing when her hand snapped out and grabbed his shoulder.
“He’s got you wrapped around his finger, doesn‘t he? What are you, a sympathizer? After him like a bitch in heat…” Kate snorted, upper lip curling in a sneer, “Allison doesn’t know any better yet, but I do. He’ll hurt you. He’ll kill you one day. They all do. That’s what they do. They’re monsters; just a bunch of dogs that will go rabid one day.”
Stiles tried to pull his shoulder free but Kate dug her nails in and dragged him close.
“Don’t touch me!” he barked, goosebumps rising up along his arms and the back of his neck. His entire body was overcome with the need to shudder--to shake off the thing touching him.
Kate smirked, sliding her palm along his chest until her fingers curled loosely around his throat. She squeezed once in warning before adjusting her hold so it looked more like a lover’s caress to any passerby. “I thought all boys loved older women?”
Stiles shifted his focus, glancing over Kate’s shoulder to clarify that, yes, they were in the security camera’s line of sight. Most of his anxiety left him in a rush when he realized it, and it helped to give him the nerve he needed to put a hand on her collarbone and push with enough force that she had to lean back out of his space. “Yeah, sorry, but I’m not really down for an STD from the silent film era.”
The smirk on Kate’s face dropped into a dark, annoyed look. She moved back into Stiles’ personal bubble, brushing her fingers down his chest and grabbing his hip with her other hand. “Honey, you wish you could have some of this.”
“The only thing I wish for right now is a restraining order,” Stiles gritted out, “and that’s exactly what I’m going to get.”
“No, really,” Stiles urged, “you should probably check for security cameras more often. I know they didn’t have those during when you and your fellow australopithecans were in their prime, but hey, times are changing.”
In an instant, Kate went from self-assured to taking on a more infuriated and disbelieving expression. Stiles pointed up and she turned her head.
“Installed them two years ago after the second robbery. Snazzy, huh?”
Slowly, Kate pulled back. “Cute,” she huffed, “but good luck getting anyone to believe you didn’t want it.”
“Well,” Stiles dug hs hands into his pockets, turning his mouth down in an exaggerated frown, “I’m pretty sure my dad will believe me and since he’s the sheriff, that really helps my case.”
While Kate was in her ‘buffering’ stage of coming up with a response, Stiles pushed past her to head back to their lane. He suddenly wanted to be gone--to be anywhere but near Kate or even Scott or Allison who didn’t really understand the situation. He hopped down to where Scott was sitting and holding Allison’s hand, interrupting their coupley-eye-fucking.
“Hey, I’m not feeling too hot,” he said, glancing back to where Kate was heading over, “I’m gonna head home. Derek’s picking me up.”
“Aw, dude, really?” Scott groaned, mouth opened for more protest when Allison jumped in.
“Yeah, that‘s fine. You know, you were starting to look pretty tired. We can always hang out later, right?”
When Allison glanced over to her aunt warily, Stiles caught on in a moment that she knew exactly why he wanted to leave. God, he could kiss her for being so brilliant. Scott had to marry her, or Stiles would disown him.
“Yeah, sounds good. Talk later?”
“I’ll call you, dude,” Scott promised, “just like, gimme your schedule or something, okay?”
“Will do!” Stiles backed up, shoulder-checking Kate accidentally and then waving to Scott and Allison as he made a beeline for the exit. He fumbled for his phone while he walked, hitting Derek’s number on speed dial and bringing it to his ear.
“Did you lose already?” Derek answered, sounding just the tiniest bit teasing.
Stiles sucked in a sharp breath and he suddenly wanted to cry just from hearing Derek’s voice. Instead, he blurted, “I need you to pick me up.”
Derek’s tone changed instantly. “Are you okay? Is something wrong?” There was a rustling on the other line, like Derek had been lying down before Stiles had called him. Stiles, momentarily, wondered if he’d been playing around on his tablet before tucking in for the night. He tried to shake that thought, stepping outside and cringing at the cold bite of wind that had been kicking up all evening.
“Mostly,” he sighed, “I just. Yeah. I ran into someone and I would really rather not be here.”
Stiles entertained the idea of not telling Derek about Kate…but he’d honestly had enough of lying to last him a lifetime. “Uh. Well. Let’s just say the cameras have enough for us to get a restraining order.”
“Kate?” Derek barked, sounding more shocked than Stiles could ever recall.
If Stiles’ chuckle was a little hysterical, that was neither here nor there as he laughed and then whimpered, “I don’t even know what’s gong on with my life anymore.”
“Don’t move, I’ll be there in ten.” Derek commanded, his voice shaking like he was already jumping into a pair of pants and hurrying out the door.
“Dude,” Stiles said faintly, “the bowling alley is like twenty minutes away.”
“I’ll be there in ten.”
Derek hung up and Stiles stared at his phone, felt a pang of fondness for Derek’s gruff form of a worry-wart, and then dialed his father.
It took two tries before his father picked up, having been preoccupied with finishing the paperwork for a drunk driver. They chatted about this and that for a moment before Stiles recapped the entire ordeal at the bowling alley--with a smidge of explanation about Kate and Derek‘s history--and then awaited his father’s input.
“Sounds like solid evidence for a restraining order,” dad muttered, “if you want, I can get ahold of the security tapes from the grocery store you mentioned? It’s all electronic now. They should still have the video stored in their database. If anything, that’ll just get you a better ground for your case.”
“You’re the best, pops,” Stiles grinned, “seriously. I love you, like, more than I love video games.”
“That’s a helluva lot, son. You sure about that?”
“Mhmm. I just want you to know we’re going to go at her with everything we’ve got, okay? Nobody touches my son like that and gets away with it.”
Stiles felt his heart clench, startled by the sound of tires squealing. He glanced up to see Derek’s camaro peeling into the parking lot and bit down on a smile. “So.. Uh… about Derek…”
“Nobody touches my son against his will.” Dad clarified.
“Glad we had this talk.” Stiles waved at Derek as he pulled up to the front of the bowling alley. He headed for the passenger door as his dad muttered things to one of his deputies.
“I’ve got to get back to work. I’ll keep you updated on that restraining order, okay?”
“Sure thing. Love you.”
Stiles hung up, opening the door to Derek’s camaro and sliding into the car. He grinned at Derek’s scowl, reaching for his seatbelt on instinct. “Hey--that was my--”
Derek grabbed the back of Stiles’ head, turning it and pulling him into a kiss.
It wasn’t like any of their normal kisses. This was one was bruising and demanding as Derek’s palms shoved their way across Stiles’ face and throat, leaving a burning and claiming path in their wake.
Stiles returned the kiss with as much enthusiasm as one could muster when entirely confused by their boyfriend’s aggressiveness, until Derek started to wrench at his overshirt. He pushed and pulled, hands scraping everywhere until Stiles had to pull back enough to gasp out, “calm down, Cujo,” before Derek was biting at his bottom lip and down his chin.
“I can smell her on you,” he breathed harshly, teeth clamping down on Stiles’ throat right where Kate’s hand had been only a little while ago. He didn’t bite to hurt, he bit to bruise, kneading at the skin and sucking hard enough to make Stiles release a ridiculously high pitched moan when the sensation shot straight to his dick.
Shoulder twinging, Stiles squirmed and pawed at Derek’s arm. “Dude--du-oh God. Derek, we’re in the parking lot. We can’t--FUCK--” Derek bit down again, higher up on Stiles’ throat while his hand started to rub soothing circles over Stiles’ chest like he was trying to calm a skittish animal.
Stiles weakly punched his arm into Derek’s shoulder, hissing, “jackass,” halfheartedly. He was only placated when Derek’s teeth eased up and his hand came to a stop over Stiles’ heart, a gentling weight against the way it was thundering against his ribcage.
It wasn’t long before Derek started to settle. He pressed slow, apologetic kisses to Stiles’ throat, trailing a path up Stiles’ neck before ending up at his mouth. Derek nibbled gently on Stiles’ upper lip, tugging it as he finally sat back to admire his work. He waited until Stiles was looking at him to firmly state, “you’re coming over.”
Stiles exhaled, chest clenching in nervous excitement as he weakly replied with, “okie dokie.”
The first thing Derek did when he got Stiles back to his house was to practically strip him and manhandle him into the shower. Stiles didn’t even need to ask to know it had something to do with eliminating the last of Kate’s scent. That being said, he had absolutely no complaints when he turned around from sticking his head under the warm spray to see Derek--gloriously naked--stepping into the shower with him.
“Holy shi--uh, fancy meeting you here?“ Stiles squeaked, voice cracking when his eyes were drawn to the thick, dark trail of hair on Derek’s stomach that led down. He had to snap his eyes up to keep from getting an eyeful, and that was only because he figured they were in the shower to get rid of Kate’s scent and not for hanky panky.
That is, he thought that until Derek pushed him up against the wall so that they were chest to chest and proceeded to mouth at Stiles’ neck and run his hands down Stiles’ back until his fingers were brushing the dip in his spine.
“She touched you,” Derek hissed into Stiles’ jaw line, palming his ass and then dragging his hands up until he was crushing Stiles to his chest. “She touched you.”
“It’s okay,” Stiles blurted, “she didn’t get away with it,” he tried to keep his voice calming, hand brushing the back of Derek’s head in a slow pet. “She didn’t hurt me.”
“--but she could have. Just like she could have taken the children.”
“Oh,” Stiles said weakly, because this wasn’t a possession thing. It was something else. It was something that Stiles was kind of terrified to really think too deeply into. Derek was putting him on the same level of importance as Andy and Olly. Derek was making him invaluable in a way that Stiles’ stomach and chest hurt when he started to dwell on it. It was overwhelming and intense and way too much to worry about when Derek’s mouth was starting to kiss a path down his chest.
It seemed like Derek was more than finished talking, but that might have been because he was too busy biting kisses into Stiles’ hips. Each nip was followed up by a lingering swipe of his tongue and a press of his lips, making a path closer towards Stiles’ crotch. Stiles almost whined for something to happen when, finally, Derek’s hand was wrapping around Stiles’ half-hard dick like it was something made to be worshiped. Stiles pawed at the shower walls, warm water trickling over his shoulders and dripping onto Derek’s head as he leaned in and wrapped his mouth around Stiles’ cock.
Stiles didn’t even know what to do--if he should rock into Derek’s mouth or if he should stay there and shake his way through the overwhelming rush of sensations. Derek’s mouth was burning hot, eyeteeth tapping every so often in that way that meant this was something Derek didn’t do much. It gave a pained thrill to the overall feel of it, and when Derek would suck too hard or squeeze too tight, Stiles only had to tighten his hand in Derek’s hair for him to ease off.
Each suck was like a yank, a tug trying to wrench his orgasm out of him. Stiles was reduced to a panting mess, legs trembling to keep himself standing. Derek massaged at his thigh with one hand, the other tight around Stiles’ shaft--squeezing every so often in a way that had Stiles’ back arching and his stomach fluttering.
Stiles only had a creeping warming sensation and a tenseness in his muscles to warn him of his impending climax. He tugged at Derek’s hair, breathing out, “I’m gonna blow, dude, fuck, Derek.”
Derek pulled off with a loud pop of his mouth, cheek brushing the head of Stiles’ cock. His hand sped up, moving faster as he kissed at the underside of Stiles’ dick just as Stiles tensed up and came with a low groan. Stiles shook and quivered, spilling all over Derek’s hand in messy ropes.
“Holy shit,” Stiles whimpered. Derek mouthed at the inside of Stiles’ thigh and Stiles was pretty sure he was falling apart at the seams when Derek nipped and sucked a hickey at the skin right up by his groin.
Once he was satisfied with marking up Stiles’ thigh, Derek stood, stealing Stiles’ mouth into a kiss. Stiles reached down, fumbling for a second until he palmed at Derek’s cock--hard and heavy between them. Water was spraying against their heads, making a messy waterfall down their shoulders and chests as Derek chased after Stiles’ lips like a man starved.
“Yeah, yeah,” Stiles panted, squeezing Derek and trying to get a good enough angle to try and bring him off.
With a groan, Derek batted the showerhead out of the way, hiking Stiles’ leg up to his hip and slotting himself into the perfect position to start fucking up into the vee of Stiles’ hips. Stiles dug his fingers into Derek’s hair, returning Derek’s kisses with fervor and rocking into each thrust of Derek’s hips until Derek was coming in messy squirts all over Stiles’ stomach and chest.
“You smell so good,” Derek panted into his mouth, kissing him and then reaching down to smear his cum all over Stiles’ torso. Stiles was too preoccupied by Derek sucking on his tongue to protest--even when Derek started to swipe that same hand over Stiles’ throat and shoulders. He knew it was some kind of marking thing, but he was pretty much nothing but goo at that point to even question the productivity of rubbing jizz all over his chest.
He felt completely drained by the time Derek pulled away to grab the soap. Each touch was slow and firm, Derek’s fingers seeking out the sore muscles in Stiles’ back as he completely soaped him down. Stiles felt almost like a puppet, leaning into Derek’s arms while he was guided under the spray to be rinsed off.
“Man,” Stiles muttered, groaning as Derek rubbed shampoo into his hair, “I think I’m going to sleep forever. I’m so tired. Oh my god, how am I gonna keep up with you.”
Derek snorted, gently washing Stiles’ hair. “We’ll build up your stamina.”
“Oh my god,” Stiles let out a dramatic sob, feeling more excited than anything for the anticipation of even more sexy-time with Derek. He just hoped that Derek didn’t drain him like this every time. Stiles usually felt energized after sex--but now he just wanted nothing more than to take a nap right in the shower.
Derek chuckled, shutting the water off and getting out to fetch towels.
When they crawled into bed--Stiles in Derek’s boxers and a t-shirt, and Derek in some sweatpants--Derek didn’t spoon him. Instead, he maneuvered Stiles onto his back and then practically draped himself over top. It was like he was trying to smother Stiles, snuffling up to him and kissing at his throat and earlobe.
Stiles looped one arm around Derek’s hips, skin hypercharged with each touch and nuzzle from Derek. It didn’t feel sexual at all, but not platonic either. It just felt natural, like coming home to Derek’s caress was something that happened all the time.
He fell asleep feeling more loved than anything else in the world.