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As long as there is fire, I’ll be burning.

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All that Detective Stiles Stillinski could think about as he ran, likely to his doom, headfirst, into a burning, three story building, was his Dad. How his Dad would be so broken if anything happened to him. He would be so very proud of him, but so very, irreparably broken.

All Stiles could think about, was if his Dad would survive losing him too.

He manages to get up the first flight of stairs, ignoring the heat and flames reaching for him as he runs by. He makes his way down a long corridor and the first door that he sees, he kicks and kicks until the latch gives. It’s right where the screaming little boy outside had directed him to go, to where he’d find the kids’ Mom and little Sister.

When Stiles sees a toddler girl sobbing hysterically under the kitchen table, her mother unconscious on the floor next to her and flames licking at the windows, he knows he’s made the right call.

His dad might not survive losing him, but Stiles definitely wouldn’t survive knowing he’d let a family perish. Not if he had a chance of saving them.

He grabs the little girl, who is shaking, on the verge of passing out due to the smoke and again he runs. He hurtles down the almost engulfed stairway, pressing her tiny face into his chest, to protect her from fumes and smoke.

He stumbles out onto the pavement in front of the building and practically throws the little girl to his partner, Allison. She’s screaming down a police radio for back up, for the fire department and anyone else she can think of.

The boy is clinging to Allison’s leg and he jumps up to hug both Allison and his sister when Stiles passes the little girl over.

Allison and Stiles had been first on the scene here because they’d been attending a purse snatch just a block away. The department had thought it might be something to do with a chain of similar thefts and therefore had sent Stiles and Allison.

Unlucky for poor Mrs. Dupree but very lucky for the little girl and boy, Stiles thinks.

Stiles can hear a fire engine screaming in the distance and he looks back up to the building. The top two floors are almost entirely engulfed in crackling orange flame, the fire spreading down, not up.

He knows the fire department will be too late.

What Stiles imagines are the rest of the occupants, are all standing on the opposite sidewalk, shouting, crying, pointing at the creaking building.

He looks at Allison, the little girl clutched in her arms to the side of her slightly swollen belly and she’s still screaming down the radio, her eyes begging him not to go back in.

“Stiles don’t,” she yells, seeing the determination in his eyes.

He throws off his jacket, leaving him in just a white T-shirt and his black Jeans, gives her a tiny smile, gently touches her bump and turns and runs back inside.

The smoke is much blacker, when he hits the stairs for the second time. He’s almost crawling, hacking coughing by the time he gets up into the apartment again. He crawls towards Mom and puts a hand on her leg, trying to convince his body to pick her up and he hears a massive crash from above him.

The last thing he remembers as the smoke overwhelms him is thinking,

“Sorry Dad, I really tried,” and everything goes black.


— — — — — — — — — —

When Stiles comes to, his back is on a cold, hard surface and he feels like a rhino is sitting on his chest. His ears are ringing and his head feels like it’s splitting open.

He coughs and pulls at the mask covering his mouth and he looks up into the angriest, most beautifully stubbled face he’s ever seen.

It’s a firefighter, in full gear and he is pulling his yellow hard hat off and his mouth is moving, so he’s obviously speaking. Stiles can’t hear a word he’s saying, his hearing isn’t quite back online.

The firefighter is leaning over him, arms around him so Stiles’ head is resting on the guys knees.

Stiles coughs and coughs, then tries to sit up and spits out onto the ground. It’s black as tar and he thinks that can’t possibly be good.

He blinks slowly down at his previously white T-shirt and it’s black with smoke and soot. He shifts a little, his ass going numb on the pavement and he moves his detective badge and gun from his hip onto the pavement next to him, so he can lean into the guys comforting weight a little.

He glances around and he must have been out for a while because there are two fire trucks with hoses on the building and he can hear another firefighter shouting out, that there is no one left inside.

The guy holding Stiles is pushing a bottle of water to his lips and he greedily drinks it down his sandpapery throat and when Stiles coughs and spits again, this time it’s clear.

Stiles tries to get a look at the guy yelling at him, because he is still shouting, Stiles is sure of it. So he leans his head back into the guys lap and blinks up at him, just staring his fill.

If you can’t be creepy after a near death experience, when can you?

In addition to the stubble, the guys got jet black hair and the most striking greeny, blue, grey eyes that Stiles has ever seen. Stiles can tell, even with all his gear on, he’s all lean muscle. He really should stop staring at him.

The mans voice is coming back to him now and Stiles realises, while the guys been holding him, he’s been rubbing circles into his back, while telling him off.

“That must have been the most idiotic, half assed rescue I’ve ever seen, you nearly died Detective.”

The guys voice is soft, Stiles thinks, even when he’s practically yelling.

He keeps rubbing his back though and it’s super comforting.

Stiles doesn’t trust himself to speak yet.

He spots Allison, in the distance, waving through more rescue units, the building being drenched in water.

“You should’ve waited, half the building came down on top of you. It was lucky we pulled up as you ran in, I wasn’t far behind you!” The guy is still going on.

Stiles thinks he’s beautiful even when he’s being bossy.

“The Mom,” Stiles chokes out, mainly to shut him up, not needing the lecture.

The guy stops ranting.

“What?” He says.

“The Mom. Is she ok?” Stiles rasps.

“Yeah... she’ll be ok... “ the guy still sounds slightly pissed, but his voice is definitely softer than before. Stiles is counting that as a win.

“Cool. All good then. Are you a real fireman by the way, because you look like a stripper?” Stiles manages, before he passes out for a second time, this time to a look of shock and some seriously raised, expressive eyebrows.

— — — — — — — — — —

This time, when Stiles comes too, it’s to the faint bleep, bleep of a heart rate monitor and to the sight of his Dad, sleeping in a hospital chair next to him, still in his Sheriff uniform.

“Hey Pops,” he rasps, throat still sore from all the coughing earlier.

His Dad jumps awake and throws himself over Stiles’ body, crushing him in a hug.

“Dad, this isn’t super conductive to helping my breathing,” Stiles chokes out but squeezes his Dad back, hard.

“You’re an idiot,” Sheriff Stillinski mumbles into his Sons’ head.

“I know,” Stiles tries for light hearted but misses by a mile and his voice comes out wobbly.

“A complete idiot, but you saved a life today Stiles. A few lives. I’m so proud of you but don’t you ever do that to me again,” His dad looks watery eyed too when he pulls back.

“I thought I’d play fireman,” Stiles smiles for real when his Dad sits back in the chair and he sits up a little further in the bed.

“Well that’s what the real firemen are for,” his Dad rolls his eyes.

“It would have been too late Dad, the little girl... it wasn’t worth the risk,” Stiles says softly, “Tell me you wouldn’t have done exactly the same thing?”

They both know his Dad would have made the same choices if the situation had called for it. That’s why he’s an awesome Sheriff.

“Well obviously I would have, you have to get your stupidity from somewhere. It wasn’t from your Mom god rest her soul, she was a genius,” his Dad is a little glassy eyed again.

They smile at each other and Stiles hold onto his dads’ hand.

“Can I discharge myself then?” Stiles asks.

“Yeah I think so,” his Dad says, “I’ll go look for Melissa and see if she will let you out. Scott’s in the hospital canteen with Allison, I sent them to get a coffee. He’s fussing over her something terrible, she punched him in the arm and I think it was pretty hard, he nearly cried. He keeps rubbing it. You’ve been out of it for a couple of hours, they said your lungs didn’t take in too much smoke, you were just exhausted.”

“No way. Sorry Dad. Hey I missed my first ambulance ride as a patient!” Stiles is actually a little disappointed.

His Dad eyes him curiously.

“You really don’t remember much after they pulled you out huh?” he looks at Stiles like he doesn’t quite believe him.

“Erm no...? I remember... Oh god, I do remember a hot fireman yelling at me. Then I may have called him a stripper,” Stiles hides his head in his hands and groans.

“Right.... well that stripper didn’t wait for an ambulance for you, he bundled you into your own mustang and carried you into the hospital reception here, yelling officer down... The way Melissa tells it, it was like something off the cover of a hot romance novel, you cuddled into his bulging biceps, dribbling all over his vest and straps...” his Dad looks like he’s having far too much fun with this.

“Holy fucking shit, Dad please stop, no, no, stop please,” Stiles hides his head in his hands again, face the colour of a tomato.

“Well at least you won’t have to see him again eh? I’ll go get you a cold drink and find Melissa,” his Dad gets up and opens the door.

“Yeah sure, that’s something,” Stiles tries not to sound too disappointed.

Trust him, the first time he meets someone he is that attracted to in years and the guy saw him dribbling soot.

Stiles still has his head in his hands when he hears a super polite but unmistakably growly voice.

“Hi Sheriff, is this Detective Stillinkis room?” And damned if Stiles doesn’t know that voice.

Stiles peeks from between his hands.

His dad is staring open mouthed at the firefighter from earlier, who is just filling the doorway.

Stiles gives him a once over and he sees the same guy from today, except now he is clean, plus he’s wearing a tight black shirt and he’s holding a bunch of grapes. He is also holding Stiles gun and badge out to the Sheriff, who is still just staring.

Like father like son.

“Erm, Stiles about never seeing him again...?” his Dad doesn’t even turn to look at Stiles but takes the badge and gun.

Stiles pales at the comment.

“Dad, shut up!” He hisses, and great, he sounds five years old now, instead of his impressive 26.

The guy steps into the room, seemingly undeterred by Stiles and the Sheriff’s back and forth.

“Thought you might need your gun back Detective. I’m Derek. Captain Derek Hale,” and his broad smile and cute little wave nearly makes Stiles pass out again.

— — — — — — — — — —

When Stiles is finally discharged from the hospital, his Dad forces him to take a few days leave from work. The downsides of working as a Detective in the ever expanding Beacon Hills Police department, is his Dad has a lot of sway with enforcing time off.

Stiles has his own apartment since he came back to Beacon hills. He spent a few years training in the FBI as an analyst, found he missed small town life almost as much as he missed his Dad and he was snapped up onto the Beacon Hills PD payroll, along with Allison, Scott’s one true love and all time boo.

He’s going to need another partner in about 4 months, due to Allison and a Scott having a tiny little gremlin on the way. Not literally. Hopefully.

He’s so excited to be cool Uncle Stiles. Scott’s been his best friend since kindergarten and they’ve been through so much together. He’s so happy for his buddy.

Stiles wiles away his first day of rest by purchasing as many baby related Harry Potter items as he possibly can find, on the internet.

When he’s exhausted that line of entertainment, he cleans his two bed apartment. By 10pm the first evening, he’s watched 6 episodes of Brooklyn 99 and watched the first 2 of Chicago fire. Late to the party with that one but hey, Taylor Kinney is hot like burning, so sue him.

Stiles tries not to give too much thought as to why he’d tried that out, as a new series to watch. It most certainly doesn’t have anything to do with a certain Captain Derek Hale. No sir. Prove it.

After Derek had given him back his gun at the hospital, he’d seemed a little uncomfortable.

That was probably due to his Dad mind you, not leaving the room at all and Stiles not being able to string a sentence together due to shock, at Derek actually being in the room. With grapes.

Instead of thanking him, the first sentence Stiles had managed to say directly to him, was,

“I’ve got paper pants on,” and he will blame whatever good drugs they gave him to help him breathe, for that revelation.

“Oh. Er. That’s... something,” Derek had said, looking at him like maybe he was a little crazy.

His Dad, God bless his Dad, had stepped in at that point.

“Ok son, well thanks for bringing his gun. Stiles really needs some rest now, he will pop down to the fire station when he’s up and running to say thanks to you personally, I’m sure,” and he’d hustled Derek out of the room.

Derek had looked back over his shoulder at him and Stiles could swear he looked a little disappointed to be leaving.

God bless his dad and god damn him for committing Stiles to going to visit the Beacon Hills fire department.

Stiles gives up on not thinking about Captain Hale and drags his ass into bed. He wraps his hand around his hard dick and gives up on trying to ignore the fact he’s been hard for the past few hours. When he comes so hard it hits him in the chin, he’s not ashamed to say he’s thinking of strippers, poles and stubble.

— — — — — — — — — —

By 1pm the next day, Stiles has organised his four bookshelves by colour, then again by alphabet and he’s going out of his mind.

By the time he realises what he’s doing, he’s changed into his tightest blue denim Levi’s, black converse and another white T-shirt, one that he knows rides up a little.

He usually wears it when him and Aly are shaking down suspects, so he doesn’t have to get his badge out, it’s pretty much on display at his hip.

Today he might be wearing it because he knows it makes his arms look nice. Might be.

He clips his badge onto his belt and he puts his gun in his hip holster.

He might be off duty but he’s still a Detective.

He’s halfway to the Fire station in the Mustang before he starts to overthink what he’s doing.



When Stiles pulls up outside, he feels immediately like he’s making a huge mistake.

Or possibly the best decision of his life. Ever.

He parks opposite the station and on the forecourt he can see two fire trucks outside and a LOT of wet muscle. The fire department are actually cleaning the fire trucks and he’s going to die. Of combustion. Ironically.

Stiles forces himself to actually get out of his car and grabs the box of donuts he’d brought with him from the passenger seat.

He’d stopped on the way, not wanting to show up empty handed but he’s already managed to eat two donuts en route. Oh well. He’s just a hungry, weak man, don’t judge him.

Stiles walks over toward the trucks and he can see 3 firefighters. They stop scrubbing the truck to watch him approach.

Stiles doesn’t spot Derek at first, but he can see a huge handsome black guy, a stunning blonde woman and a tall, young looking guy.

They sure make them hot in the fire department. Stiles sniggers at his own joke.

Then Derek walks around the truck, clearly to see why the others have stopped talking and working.

Stiles then promptly falls over his own feet and just manages to grab onto a lamppost to stop himself hitting the ground, barely rescuing the donuts when he gets a glimpse of Derek’s naked torso.

Derek jogs the last few yards over to him to him.

“Detective Stillinski, hey are you ok?” Derek says frowning and grabs Stiles’ elbows, apparently to help steady him.

“Oh yes, yes, err just still a bit woozy, they gave me some good drugs at the hospital, don’t think they fully wore off,” Stiles rambles, following with a barely muttered “Absolute Dork, nice one.”

Derek couldn’t have heard that, yet when Stiles looks up at him through his lashes, using his big brown eyes to his advantage, Derek’s smiling a really soft amused smile.

Just like when he rescued him, he’s rubbing his thumbs across Stiles’ arms gently and it’s surprisingly soothing.

“Why are you here Detective?” Derek sounds hopeful and pleased.

“Well I have it on good authority that my Dad kicked you out of the hospital before I could even say thank you the other day and I wanted to... you know... thank you,” Stiles stutters.

He hasn’t felt this shy around someone since Lydia Martin pulled his pants down in the cafeteria in 2nd grade, when he’d told her that her hair smelt like roses.

“It’s my job Detective,” Derek is still smiling but the words dash Stiles’ hopes just tiny a bit.

He pulls his arms back, feeling extra dorky.

“Yeah. Yes. Of course. I mean I know. One more to add to the million people that I’m sure you save weekly, Captain Hale. But I’m really grateful, and my Dad... well, he’s on his own, so thanks. Really. Again.” Stiles says sincerely.

Derek just cocks his head waiting for Stiles to finish. Stiles licks his lips nervously and Derek’s eyes track the movement.

“It’s my job Detective, but not everyone I rescue usually comes down here to thank us personally. That’s what I meant. And you can call me Derek,” Dereks face is still fairly blank but his eyes look gentle, like he’s kind of expecting Stiles to leave.

“I didn’t mean to offend you. I’m not awesome on first impressions” Derek continues, smiling shyly.

Stiles absolutely melts. He can literally feel himself going to goo.

“Oh. That’s cool. Me either. I usually say the wrong thing, so this is a welcome change,” Stiles grins and the atmosphere lightens. “And you can call me Stiles.”

Derek’s answering smile could be seen from space.

“You mean bad first impressions like asking people if they’re strippers?” Derek smirks.

Stiles hasn’t heard Derek’s voice teasing before, but as soon as he hears those words, he knows he’s absolutely fucked. Probably for life.

Stiles flushes beet red.

“Well can you blame me?” Stiles replies, waving his hand up and down in front of Derek’s chest.

Derek literally raises an eyebrow now. Stiles licks his lips again.

Derek takes a barely perceptible step into him and inhales gently.

“I can’t dance though,” Derek deadpans.

Stiles might be in love.

The moment is broken by a shout from one of the other firefighters. She’s got long blond hair and a wicked smile.

“Hey Derek! Who’s the cutie?” She yells,

“Shut up Erica,” Derek rolls his eyes and turns his head to yell back.

“Hey, no I could go say Hi, you all rescued me technically right?” Stiles smiles.

“Right...” Derek seems a little unsure but walks with Stiles over to the gang, taking the donuts.

Stiles gets on... well he doesn’t want to say like a house on fire... lets go with famously, with all the firefighters.

Erica introduces him to Boyd and Issac. They even invite him and Allison to drinks that night at a local bar, for Boyd’s birthday.

When he says he really should be going, Erica hugs him goodbye and Derek walks him to his car. He is still gloriously shirtless. Stiles tries very hard not to stare. He is not successful.

Stiles is leaning on the hood of his car, not quite wanting to say goodbye when Derek leans in a step and wipes the side of his mouth with his thumb.

“You had a little... sugar,” Derek coughs, meeting Stiles surprised eyes.

Derek doesn’t quite step back and Stiles cocks his head a little, in question.

Derek does that slight little inhale again, taking him in and drags his eyes from Stiles’ neck down to his belt. Stiles stretches up a little so his shirt rides up and he knows his happy trail is on show. Derek rakes his eyes back up Stiles’ torso and he stares at Stiles’ neck again.

“Dude, do I have something else stuck to me?” Stiles can’t take the tension, he wants Derek do do something, anything. Lick him maybe.

Derek puts his hands either side of Stiles’ hips so they’re almost pressed front to front.

He’s looking at him like Stiles is the most confusing puzzle ever.

“So, Erica seems great,” Stiles says, just to break the tension.

Derek gives a little subvocal growl and a barely there snarl. It’s like a lightbulb goes off in Stiles’ head. He tilts his head slightly, baring his neck before he speaks again.

“Not great for me though... no sir... no, no, no. That train sailed, well not sailed, you know, chugged away, taking the last of my booby loving away with it when I was about 16. I’m almost exclusively into the D. Not that’s of any interest to you. Or is it? No? No. Of course not, right, off I go, choo choo, right shutting up,” and Stiles ducks out of a stunned looking Derek’s arm cave that he’s created and into his car.

“Stiles,” Derek taps the window.

“Yep...?” Stiles looks at him.

Derek puts his forearms on top of Stiles’ car and Stiles gives himself a mental high five for not licking all the glorious muscle laid out in front of him.

“It’s of interest to me. Definitely.” Derek’s eyes are all pupil and Stiles thinks he needs to drive away because having sex in the street is illegal and he will have to arrest himself if he doesn’t.

Derek stands up and Stiles starts the car.

“Ok. Well good. It’s of interest to me too. You are. I mean. Ok. I’ll see you tonight. Hopefully. Plus I’m totally cool with the werewolf thing by the way, you don’t have to hide it. See you later.”

So sue him if he just drives off leaving a gobsmacked looking Derek on the pavement.

Stiles swears he sees a flash of red eyes in the rear view mirror.


By the time Stiles leaves his apartment that evening he’s managed to spill ketchup on his shirt, so he’s now wearing a different, far too tight red number with his skinny black jeans plus his converse again.

He’s has to call Scott to drive because he needs a beer to calm him down, plus he needs him to be his wingman.

Allison had plans with Melissa. Something about birth plans. Scott had accepted his invitation fairly quickly.

Stiles tells him all about the werewolf situation, en route to the bar.

“So he’s an alpha?” Scott’s driving and he keeps looking over at Stiles in the passenger seat, judgementally.

“I’d say so.” Stiles clarifies.

“And he growled when you complimented Erica?” Scott keeps questioning.

“Yes. Or I think so.” Stiles nods and chews his lip.

“And then you told him that a train took away all the Boobs and you want his Penis?” Scott is frowning really hard.

“Oh my god. Are you even listening to me? No. I did not say that. Well kind of. But no. He’s probably not even really into me, I’m such a moron. He’s hot like burning, ha, literally and I’m like 6/10 on a good day,” Stiles groans and puts his head in his hands.

“Right, that’s enough. You are amazing. Funny. You’re super hot in those jeans. Would I trust anyone else with my Aly and baby Selene? Who was there for me when I got bitten at 16, stayed with me through my full moons? You are a freaking catch.” Scott’s getting annoyed.

“Don’t call baby SkyWalker that, you know how I feel about the inaccuracy of those movies. Plus vampires don’t exist,” Stiles huffs.

“Stiles!” Scott parks the car on the curb outside the bar.

“What?!” Stiles says back, startling.

“Repeat after me. This is what you’re going to say to Derek. I think you are hot. I like your personality so far. Let me take you on a date.” Scott says.

“I can’t believe Allison stuck with you long enough to get up the duff,” Stiles groans.

“Do it!” Scott flashes red eyes at him.

“Oh for fu... fine. But I’m doing it my way, yours sounds muchos lame,” Stiles gets out of the car and walks around it to stand in front of Scott.

“I’ll be him,” Scott clarifies, “you’ll chicken out. I want to hear what you’re going to say.”

Stiles rolls his eyes but Scott just puts his hands on his hips.

“Wow me and woo me. And be quick, someone’s coming and I don’t want anyone to tell Aly I was being wooed by a guy outside a bar, this town is small,” Scott says,

“You wish. Right. Ok...” Stiles starts, “You are one of the hottest people I’ve seen in my entire life. You seem amazing and I would really like to get to know you a little better,” he really tries.

“Meh it’s ok, I’m not overwhelmed with the urge to throw you over my shoulder and carry you off or anything, mind you,” Scott won’t give an inch.

Of course that’s exactly when a pissed looking Erica, with Derek in tow, literally pops up behind Scott’s car.

Derek doesn’t even look Stiles in the eye but he does offer an unenthusiastic hand to Scott.

“So you brought a friend Detective?” Erica says cooly.

“Hey guys! Yes this is Scott,” Stiles offers and before he can say anything else, Derek walks off into the bar.

“Rude,” Stiles frowns.

“Well honey, he has a crush on you and he just heard you tell your boyfriend here that he’s the hottest thing you’ve ever seen in your life, what do you expect?” Erica is still cold as ice.

Scott naturally takes offence.

“Hey he’s not my boyfriend! I am a married man! Well soon to be. To his partner. We were practising what he was going to say to Derek because he’s all head over heels about him but he’s a hopeless dork when it comes to doing anything about things like that,” Scott explains.

“Hey!” Stiles says indignantly. Scott’s defence of him leaves a little to be desired.

Erica cocks her head and if Stiles wasn’t sure about the werewolf thing before, he’s certain now. She’s listening for a lie.

Scott flashes his eyes, realising at the same time. Erica growls but flashes her eyes beta yellow and it’s like all the tension disappears.

“Let me get this straight. Or maybe not so straight. You like Derek. You’ve come here to see him. You knew he was a were and you deliberately brought another alpha with you?” she clarifies, hands on her hips.

“Well when you put it like that, it doesn’t seem all that smart! He’s my best friend. I feel about him romantically how I feel about a block of cheese,” Stiles exclaims.

This evening is not going how he had hoped.

Erica links arms with them both, her in the middle,

“Come on boys. I’m going to help you fix this.” and she marches them into the bar.


It’s surprisingly busy and it’s a good 15 minutes before they can get a drink and Stiles still can’t see Derek anywhere.

Stiles yells to Scott over the music that he has to pee. When he’s finished in the bathroom and he’s halfway back down a dim corridor, he spots Derek coming in the other direction. Derek looks like a deer caught in headlights but he has no where to go.

Stiles puts his hands on his hips and waits.

Derek looks supremely uncomfortable.

“So...” Stiles tries.

“So....?” Derek repeats.

“I give up,” Stiles throws his hands in the air.

“Oh. Ok,” Derek says and looks really sad, Stiles wants to shake him.

“No! Argh. Ok, can we go somewhere to talk for five minutes?” Stiles asks.

“Won’t your alpha boyfriend wonder where you are?” Derek still looks so deflated, but he’s definitely grumpy.

“He’s not my...! Just come outside for a minute,” Stiles says, exasperated.

He pushes out of fire exit and into the parking lot, hoping Derek will follow.

Derek does, his hands shoved into the pockets of his leather jacket.

“You really don’t need to explain Stiles. I didn’t realise you were seeing someone. You smelt like... well at the fire station you smelt like maybe... but I shouldn’t have assumed. I just... obviously... he’s a werewolf, which is how you knew about me, but could you not tell anyone about me please? Or about my pack, I would really appreciate it,” Derek sounds tired and sad. Stiles hates it.

“Derek, of course, that’s your secret to keep, I swear on my dads soul, I won’t tell anyone,” and Derek looks visibly more relaxed.

“Oh Ok. Great. Well have a good life, Scott’s a lucky guy. I’ll see you around Detective. “ and Derek turns to walk away.

“No, no! Wait a minute, I’m terrible at this, clearly but so are you, like you said, so let me explain. Please. Scott’s my best friend. He’s having a baby with my partner Allison. What you heard in the parking lot earlier was me practising what I wanted to say to you. Boy, I’m glad you didn’t hear the earlier versions, but yeah, let me just clarify. I am into you, like really into you and if we can get past this stupid alpha posturing, misunderstanding I would really like to...”

Stiles is cut off by Derek’s lips on his and Dereks’ body pressed tightly in a long line against his front.

Derek’s hand is on the back of his neck and when his tongue licks over the bottom of Stiles’ lip, he groans and opens his mouth.

It’s the best first kiss he has ever had.

Derek breaks away from his mouth to press his face into Stiles’ neck and he just breathes deeply.

“Well I’m really glad we’re on the same page,” Stiles giggles and when Derek pulls back to look at him, still holding him tightly around the waist, he’s got his amazing smile back.

Derek’s still holding him by the neck.

“Is this ok?” Derek asks and his voice is rough and low. It makes Stiles’ dick twitch in his jeans.

“Hell yes, I’ve been thinking about your mouth on me since I called you a stripper,” Stiles laughs.

“Me too, to be honest,” Derek looks shy again, but his amazing smile doesn’t leave his face.

He kisses Stiles again and it quickly turns filthy and Derek palms his ass and presses them together and Stiles can feel Derek’s dick hard and thick against his thigh. He wants. Oh boy does he want.

“Derek, I hope you don’t judge me for this but can we get out of here? I feel like I’m going to explode,” Stiles pants in between deep kisses.

Derek gives a particularly well aimed roll of his hips that has both of them groaning loud.

“Do you want to come to my place?” Derek’s breathing heavy against his neck, trying to control himself.

“Hell yes, let me just tell Scott I’m leaving,” Stiles grabs Derek’s hand and goes to walk back to the bar.

Derek pulls him back and presses him against the wall so that Stiles is facing it and has to put his palms on it to brace himself. Derek plasters himself in a long line against the back of him, dick to Stiles’ ass and he whispers in Stiles ear as he reaches around and palms him through his jeans.

“Text him,” Derek’s voice is dangerously low in his ear.

“Garumphh,” Stiles grunts out. He’s going to come in his pants.

He pushes his ass back into Derek and resigns himself to the fact this will be the shortest, hottest thing to ever happen to him when suddenly Derek’s weight is gone. He doesn’t let go of Stiles’ hand though but pulls him around to face him.

The fire exit door bangs open and Scott, Erica and Boyd are standing there.

Scott looks triumphant.

“Go get it, mah man!” He whoops and Erica is smiling.

“You owe me, $20 Scott, I told you they’d still have clothes on,” She says smoothly.

Derek pushes Stiles slightly behind him as if to shield him slightly from the embarrassment. Stiles presses into Derek from behind, playing him at his own game from earlier.

“Boyd, have a great birthday, we’re leaving,” Derek says bluntly.

“No worries,” Boyd is a man of few words.

“I’m staying,” Scott says, “have fun bro, text you tomorrow!”.

Stiles doesn’t run to Derek’s car but it’s a close thing.


The drive to Derek’s house is one of the longest Stiles has ever experienced. In reality it could only be about 10 minutes but the way Derek keeps looking over at him in the passenger seat and adjusting himself in his jeans is killing him.

He chances a look at Derek’s crotch and the denim is stretched tight over what looks to be a huge dick. Stiles hands twitch on his thighs. He wants to touch, so badly.

Derek has white knuckles where he is gripping the steering wheel hard and he sniffs the air, Stiles’ arousal obviously filling the car.

“You smell so fucking amazing,” he moans.

“Yeah well you look amazing,” Stiles retorts.

They’re stopped at what has to be the 10 millionth red light.

They finally pull up to what Stiles assumes is Derek’s house and Derek rams his black Camaro into the driveway.

He gets out and is at Stiles’ door in a flash. He manhandles Stiles out of the car and throws him over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry.

Stiles is laughing all the way to the front door.

“This isn’t very dignified you know. I’m sure all your neighbours are watching and judging the respectable Captain Hale,” Stiles giggles.

“Let them look,” Derek grunts as he holds onto Stiles with one arm and unlocks the door with the other.

When they get inside, Derek kicks the door shut, leans back against it, bringing Stiles up and letting him slide down the front of his body, keeping him close.

It’s blissful torture.

It’s dark and quiet in the house.

Stiles stares into Derek’s eyes and he puts his hands in his stubble and leans in to kiss him.

Before he makes contact, Derek grabs his wrists and yanks him into him.

“Stiles...” Derek says, “before this goes any further, I need to tell you... I want you to understand. I’ve never brought anyone back here.” he looks nervous but sure at the same time.

He waits for Stiles’ reaction.

“Ok, so you like your space? I can leave if you want, we can go for coffee tomorrow, I’m cool with anything,” Stiles doesn’t want to mess this up.

He hasn’t known Derek long but he already feels like he would give him anything, do anything for this man.

“No. I told you I was terrible at this... I mean I’ve never wanted to bring anyone here. Into my space. Until you. I kind of don’t want you to leave...” Derek looks really vulnerable.

Stiles gets it and he presses the lightest kiss to Derek’s mouth.

“So I won’t,” he says simply, scarily sure about something so very new.

This seems to be exactly what Derek needs to hear and it’s like a switch flips in him.

He picks Stiles up by the legs and gets his hands on his ass and he crashes their mouths together again.

He walks Stiles unfalteringly up a flight of stairs and kicks a door that is clearly Derek’s bedroom. He throws Stiles down on the bed and he bounces a little and then Derek is just on him.

They kick off their shoes, shed their shirts and Derek unbuckles Stiles’ belt and he doesn’t waste any time getting a hand into Stiles boxers, palming his long hard dick.

Stiles throws his head back into the mattress with a shout and this is going to be embarrassingly short.

“Oh my fucking fuck,” he groans intelligently.

Derek seems to want more though, because he pushes Stiles’ jeans off down his legs, along with his boxers and he shimmy’s down the bed, throwing Stiles’ clothes to the floor.

Stiles thinks he’s going to blow there and then when he looks down and meets Derek’s beautiful eyes and he rams his own eyes shut, expecting Derek to suck his dick, just to try to make it last a moment longer.

He shouts loudly when he feels Derek grab him under the ass instead and he lifts Stiles up and then there is heavenly, hot, wet pressure on his tight hole. Derek is licking and tongue fucking him like his life depends on it and for the first time in Stiles’ 26 years, he comes hard, without a hand on his dick.

Derek licks him through it and then moves up to Stiles’ torso and licks his come from his stomach.

Stiles’ brain is barely computing when he realises Derek still has his jeans on.

That will simply not do. He pushes Derek into sitting up, then gets him standing and he stands in front of him, next to the bed.

He stares into Derek’s eyes, watching his reactions and he unbuttons his jeans and pushes them down his thighs.

Derek’s not wearing underwear and Stiles moans low, his dick giving a valiant twitch and attempting to rejoin the party.

Derek is biting his lip and Stiles runs his hands down the front of his body and he drops to his knees, taking Derek’s jeans to the floor with him.

Stiles finds himself eye to eye with a thick, long, hard, uncut dick and it’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. He wets his lips. He grabs Derek’s strong thighs roughly with his hands and Stiles deep throats him in one devastating move.

Derek bucks his hips in surprise and Stiles chokes a little but doesn’t pull off, just moans like he’s dying with Derek’s gorgeous dick in his mouth.

Derek literally punches his fist through his bedside table when Stiles swallows around him, the head of Derek’s dick still down his throat.

“Fuck, please move Stiles,” he moans and tangles his hands into Stiles’ dark brown hair.

Stiles looks up at him with wide, watering eyes and he squeezes Derek’s thighs. Derek gets the memo because he puts a little pressure at the back of Stiles’ head and he begins to fuck in and out of his mouth.

Derek all of a sudden, can’t stop talking.

“You are so God damn addictive. I knew I wanted to fuck you the second you woke up in my lap outside that building. Even through the smoke, you smelt so fucking good, you smelt like mine. I wanted you and that was ridiculous, but I did,” the more he’s rambling, the harder he fucks into Stiles’ mouth.

Stiles is moaning and giving as good as he gets, opening his pink lips as wide as he can and giving encouraging little squeezes to Derek’s thighs,

“When I thought you’d brought Scott to the bar as your boyfriend, I had to walk off. I wasn’t worried I was going to fight him or anything but the wolf, the wolf wanted to claim you. I wanted to bend you over his stupid car hood and fuck into you, in front of all of them, so they knew you belonged to me... fuck, Stiles I’m coming,” Derek warns and goes to pull out but Stiles grabs Derek’s ass and pushes him impossibly far down his throat. He ghosts a hand down Derek’s ass and presses against his dry hole and swallows when Derek comes hot and hard into his mouth.

Derek shakily pulls him to his feet and kisses him sloppily, tasting himself on Stiles’ tongue.

They lay back down together on the bed, Stiles on his belly, Derek laying next to him stroking down his spine and over the cleft of his ass cheeks.

“I’m sorry if I scared you. I obviously know you don’t belong to me. I just... I haven’t felt like this. Ever,” Derek’s voice is quite and soft.

Stiles wants to keep him forever.

“You didn’t scare me. My best friend is a wolf. I remember when he met Aly. That night I had to chain him to my radiator because I thought he was going to eat her. He didn’t. He just wanted to be around her. I get that it’s instinct when you like someone. You don’t have to be ashamed or hide yourself from me,” Stiles says quietly into Derek’s pillow.

“That’s the thing though,” Derek continues, “I never like someone. Not enough to bring them here. Certainly not enough to ever feel like I want to mark them, show everyone they’re mine,” Derek’s voice has taken on a growly tone again and Stiles dick is rock hard again in seconds.

He pushes into the mattress, leisurely rolling his hips. Derek’s fingertips are still ghosting down his back.

“Where do you want to mark me Der?” he breathes.

Derek’s breath hitches. Then Stiles feels the lightest of touches on the side of his neck.

“Here,” Derek growls and Stiles moans in answer.

“Here,” Derek touches the side of his body, just above his hip.

“Here,” Derek’s voice is impossibly low when he strokes a finger between Stiles’ cheeks.

Stiles parts his legs and Derek lays gently on top of his lower body, still stroking him, like he’s something precious.

Stiles feels the slick of Derek’s finger against his now exposed hole and he’s impressed Derek found lube without him even realising.

When Derek’s finger enters him, Stiles grunts into the pillow and Derek times it with a well placed nip at the side of his neck.

He sucks on Stiles’ skin, anywhere he can reach as he breaches him with another finger until he’s slowly fucking him open with three.

Derek presses his cock into Stiles’ thigh and he could crush a diamond with it. Yay for werewolf recovery time.

Stiles is leaking pre-come steadily into the sheets by this point, getting more and more desperate to be filled.

Derek seems to be taking his time though, covering Stiles in little marks and reddening his perfect skin with his stubble.

Stiles can’t take anymore and he’s not above begging, not for Derek.

“Der, please fuck me, I need your dick in me,” he moans.

Derek, seemingly unable to deny Stiles anything, surprises him and thrusts against his open hole and buries himself deep in one swift stroke.

“Fuck you’re huge,” Stiles groans out.

Derek grunts and rolls his hips experimentally, drawing loud moans from both of them. Stiles fists his hands into the sheets.

Derek begins to fuck into Stiles with a relentless pace, pulling his hips into him for leverage.

He pulls out and flips Stiles over, fumbling to get back inside him.

“Need to see you,” Derek mumbles and Stiles leans up to kiss him as his dick slides back inside him.

Oh, this angle is perfect. Derek starts pounding into him and if Stiles thinks it was relentless before, now Derek’s pounding on his prostate, he’s literally seeing stars.

Derek looks wild eyed and Stiles captures his mouth again and speaking against his lips, soft contrast to the hard dick in his ass, he needs to say something to Derek.

“Let go Derek. Come on alpha. I need to see you. Don’t hide from me, show me,” Stiles tilts his neck back as far as he can and grabs hold of his own dick.

Derek comes on a roar, wolfing out as he does, eyes bleeding red and he buries his teeth into Stiles neck, not quite breaking skin.

Feeling Derek pulse in his ass, Stiles comes hard between their bodies, nearly blacking out from how amazing it feels.

Derek collapses on top of him and Stiles can’t bring himself to move.

They’re still laying like that 5 minutes later when Derek pulls out and manhandles Stiles around so that he can spoon him.

There’s something soothing, Stiles thinks, about feeling Derek’s come dripping out of his hole and Derek must really like it because he keeps touching him feather lightly on his thighs and his ass.

“Stiles,” Derek whispers a little while later into the quiet of the night.

“Mmm?” Stiles mumbles drowsily.

“Stay?” Derek tells him.

“As long as you want Captain Hale,” Stiles murmurs.

He knows Derek won’t hear a lie in his words. He hopes that’s the answer Derek is looking for.

Derek’s dick fattening up against his ass, pressing against his still slick hole, is answer enough.