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Surely It's Impossible

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The next several weeks blurred together. Every day was the same and it was taking a toll on the entire pack. Stiles watched as they grew more and more restless, pacing around the house, or wringing their hands. It reminded Stiles over and over again that they were pack creatures, they needed to run, not to be crammed up in a house. Though Derek tried to comfort Stiles, it was obvious he was feeling the effects as well. 

Today, though, there was a certain excitement in the air. Today it was decided the Hale's were going to host a press conference. 

The security measures had taken the longest to set up, Boyd and Derek going over things repeatedly. It was a Sector Five exclusive, only those born and raised in the Sector, and those who agreed to be researched extensively, were invited. Stiles was pretty sure they had samples of these people's blood at this point.

They decided to host it at the Hale house, where the entire pack felt most comfortable, where there would be a million eyes, visible and not. Boyd was assigned to stay closest to Stiles, to essentially be his bodyguard, though Stiles argued that Derek, and Talia for that matter, could handle it, not to mention himself. Though, Stiles would be an idiot to ignore what was happening in the world, to ignore the idea that there were people out there who wanted to hurt him. 

Many other men he recognized from the air base were now crowding the Hale mansion, stationed at every exit, every door, even guarding the damn bathroom. It was growing suffocating, especially as everyone else continued to run around, preparing for the event.

Stiles sucked in a deep breath, straightening his tie as he stared in the bathroom mirror. He had shut himself in here for the past hour or so, trying to catch his breath. The tight suit around his neck only made things worse. He felt like the walls were closing in slowly, day by day. He couldn't escape it, he just had to endure.

The last time he had looked like this he had been walking down the steps of the Hale mansion, the steps he now climbed daily. Today, he barely even recognized the place, with its elaborate decorations the sparkled and shone. It no longer felt like a home. 

He didn't recognize himself either.

A gentle knock sounded on the bedroom door and Stiles was visibly surprised to see Cora there. She sported a tight black dress and a grimace similar to Stiles'.

"You're going to want to let me in." She spoke, though she shoved herself past Stiles to let herself in regardless of what he was going to respond.

"What's that?" Stiles asked, motioning to the compact bag she held in her hand.

"This is what is going to save your ass." She marched towards the bathroom, setting down the bag and messing with her pristine hair that was intricately braided on top of her head, exposing her collarbones and soft neck. She was beautiful. 

She meddled only for a second longer, waiting for Stiles to follow her further into the bathroom, before she began to open the bag and pull out a million different things.

"You're not seriously thinking about putting that on me, right?" Stiles asked, looking at the products with skepticism. 

Cora smirked and Stiles focused on the dark plum color that coated her lips, growing even more nervous than he was before. 

"Relax, I promise to make you look natural." Cora rolled her eyes at Stiles' lack of confidence.

"I didn't have to wear makeup before." Stiles crossed his arms, feeling slightly offended that Cora felt she had to make himself look like someone he wasn't. The whole idea of this was to prove that people should be their authentic selves. 

Cora faulted for a moment, setting a bottle of colored liquid that matched Stiles' skin tone on the counter. She took a step towards Stiles and grabbed his hand softly.

She tugged him in front of the mirror and Stiles swallowed as he truly looked at himself. He had lost almost all color, apart from the purple bags under his eyes. His cheekbones looked like they had sunken in and the color of his peeling lips almost matched the rest of his skin. 

"I only want to make this easier for you, but I won't if you don't want me to." Cora spoke softly. Stiles knew what she was referring to. Stiles and Derek had essentially sealed themselves off from the world since Stiles was claimed. While the world constantly read the tabloids on the other mating pairs, knowing who ate what for breakfast, they didn't know that Derek and Stiles hadn't completed the bond. They didn't know how it was affecting them both.

Stiles nodded, ripping his gaze from the mirror. He turned to Cora, who softly smiled before beginning her work in silence. 

They would ask questions about the pair, and Stiles felt like those questions may be harder to answer than the ones about the state of the world, about the future. 

The decision to host a press conference had not been an easy one, but it had made the most sense. Stiles, Talia, and Laura had spoken for weeks in silence about it, planning things out. When the news was announced to the pack, it wasn't exactly well-received. Boyd and his father voiced their concerns of safety, while Derek had flat out refused to allow it to happen.

Sweet talk and promises of security were the only things to convince Derek to even agree to half of the plan. They had compromised. 

Though Stiles was nervous, he was excited to see people again, to feel like the world wasn't crumbling around him while he sat in a mansion. Really, things hadn't been too bad. There had been protests on both sides, but rarely violence, and no deaths. It was concluded that the best way to address questions, to voice their opinions was to do one big press conference, rather than repeatedly sending out messages or broadcasts.

Since the first draft of the bill, they had gained three more signatures, totaling thirty-nine now. Thirty-nine Sectors who agreed that things needed to change, who supported the idea of equality, of Omegas in a position of power. Thirty-nine Sectors who had released broadcasts of their own in support.

"There." Cora smiled softly, nodding to herself and stepping back to pack up her things.

Stiles glanced at the mirror out of his peripheral, afraid to look, but sighed with relief to see that not only did he not look like a clown, he almost looked. . . normal, healthy. 

"Everyone is gathered outside, we'll get started soon." She nodded, before leaving the room, presumably to meet the rest of the pack outside, where the conference would be held. It was Derek's idea to host it outside, the weather was to be nice and the background was subtle enough to where others watching wouldn't be able to tell where they were filming. 

Another knock sounded, before Stiles' nose was filled with his scent. 

"Hey." Derek spoke, placing a hand on the small of Stiles' back. He leaned in, nuzzling his neck softly, before pulling back and giving a soft smile.

"Hey." Stiles sniffed, tugging at his cuff links. 

"You're going to do great." Derek said, but Stiles could tell the Alpha was still uncomfortable with the entire idea.

"Yeah, it'll be fine." Stiles nodded, taking in another deep breath. "Let's head down."

Stiles made to move, before Derek stopped him. "Hang on a second." 

Derek placed a hand on the side of Stiles' face, before he leaned in to press a gentle kiss to his mouth. 

"Are you trying to calm me down or make my heart beat faster?" Stiles asked, making Derek smile. 

"I'd be satisfied either way." Derek shrugged, before grabbing Stiles' hand and leading him downstairs, where Talia was waiting.

"Come on you two, don't make us late," Talia spoke sternly, leading them towards the back door of the house. She paused there, hand on the handle. 

"Remember-" She started.

"Mother, we know." Derek rolled his eyes, before she flashed her own red in annoyance. She opened up the door and walked out, Stiles and Derek hesitating for only a moment before they followed, hand in hand.

For a moment, Stiles felt okay, up until he was bombarded with flashing lights and several shouts, all trying to grab his attention. He held on tight to Derek's hand, who remained steady by his side, leading him up the stairs on the raised platform his dad and Isaac had spent their afternoons building. 

"Please, everyone," Talia spoke at the microphone that she didn't need, as Stiles and Derek settled into their seats behind her. Stiles' leg began to bounce up and down, before Derek placed his hand on it, reminding him gently that they had to keep up appearances. To remain calm and collected. 

The crowd quieted down, though the cameras still remained flashing. Stiles stared out into the sea of people, the cameras, the flushed faces of excited reporters. 

"Thank you all for being here today." Talia spoke to the reporters, to the cameras that were no doubt broadcasting this message across the globe. Stiles wondered if those who were presumed to be lost, if the other half of the world could see them right now. If they knew what was happening. If they felt any hope. 

"Alpha Talia!" A man shouted, before several followed suit. Talia held up a hand once more. She couldn't even get in one sentence.

Stiles glanced around some more, noticing the security outfitted in the typical all black Hale uniform. He recognized Major Wilson in the back, who seemed to have his focus on someone else at the table, a particular Alpha who was immaculately dressed in a navy blue dress. 

"Thank you all for being here today," Talia began again. "I come before you today to present a new beginning." 

The crowd began to murmur as more flashes came from the cameras. 

"Behind me today I have the people who have helped make this all happen. My family, my pack."

Stiles, Derek, Laura, Cora, Erica, Boyd, Isaac, and even John were all present at the table on the stage, with microphones, and glasses of water in front of them.

"I'd like to formally introduce the world to an incredible man. A man who is the perfect person to shed light on the issues of today." 

This part hadn't been rehearsed, at least not with the rest of the pack. Stiles knew that Derek would argue, that he would say it wasn't a good idea for Stiles to speak, that it wasn't safe. That assumption was confirmed as correct as he felt the hand on his leg tighten. 

"Stiles Stilinski, everyone." Talia motioned, before several claps and shouts were heard. Everyone trying to get his attention, his focus. The only thing Stiles was focused on was breathing. He stood, avoiding Derek's glare as he walked towards the podium, as his hand slipped off his thigh.

"Good afternoon," Stiles spoke. His voice didn't sound normal in his own ears, but the journalists, reporters, and whoever else was in the crowd, didn't seem to hear an issue. 

Stiles refrained from clearing his throat as he looked down at his shaking hands as he began to trace circles on the pieces of paper that were supposed to be his notes.

"I feel a little silly being up here," Stiles spoke truthfully, looking up. The crowd quieted down. "I don't quite feel worthy, to be up here, to be before you, to be surrounded by these people, my pack," he paused. "and I've come to realize just how lucky I am, to be with such incredible people who have done nothing but welcome me, support me, and love me."

Stiles swallowed, looking down at his paper once more, taking another shaky breath.

"But those feelings, those thoughts, are what is actually silly. Because I am worthy, because I should be surrounded by people who care," His voice grew stronger, more certain.

"No one should be afraid that they are unworthy of love because of who they are. No one's life should be determined from birth," Another shaky breath.

"No children should have to be taught that they deserved to be bullied, because the bully outranks them. No teenagers should have to accept the harassment they face on the field, in the hallways, because they are told they are less than. No adult should be refused a raise due to the color of their eyes. No one should feel as though they aren't safe in a grocery store because they smell different. No one should be treated differently because of something they cannot control, because of a society that decided that's just how it has to be. It isn't." Stiles took that moment to pause, to look into the crowd, to make eye contact. 

"I stand before you today as someone who has lived all of these moments throughout my life. As someone who got lucky. Not so many have been as lucky as I, not those Omega men, women, and children who died in the Sector Thirty-Seven attack, not those on the streets, and not many of you who are watching right now. . ." The crowd had gone utterly silent.

"The Mating Run was created to be something that united Alphas and Omegas, but turned into a way for Alphas to exude their power and a way for Omegas to escape the life that had already been decided for them. As of today," Stiles fought glancing at Talia, fought the fear that circled him.

"As of today," he repeated. "The Mating Run is void." 

The crowd lit up, shouting and standing. Security took a step closer, but Stiles held up a hand. They had every right to be confused, to ask questions, many were probably even afraid.

After a few moments, miraculously, the crowd quieted enough for Stiles to continue speaking.

"This decision was not made lightly and we intend to address all questions and concerns, whether they come from Omega, Beta, or Alpha," Stiles stressed. 

"This is about us all-" He began again.

"How can you even say that? You were in the Mating Run!" An angry woman in the crowd sneered. Security stepped forward again, fully intent on removing the women, but Stiles again held up his hand and they paused.

"I dreaded the moment my name was called," Stiles admitted. "The Mating Run. . . it's seen as this glorious thing, a dream come true. It was my biggest nightmare." He trailed off, collecting his thoughts. This wasn't on the script, he didn't have notes for this. 

"But I met some of the most incredible people, the most incredible man," Stiles face burned as the cameras snapped more photos. "I recognize my privilege and understand the situation I am in is a situation most will not experience. . . but I dream of a world where I didn't have to meet Derek this way, the Hales this way. I have confidence that that dream can come true. I have been surrounded by people who have allowed me to make my own decisions and I dared to feel as though that was abnormal." His voice rose. 

"The Alpha Omega bond is supposed to be precious, not demanding. For too long we have strayed from simple human rights to focus on biology and politics. That changes now. We have a voice, we have a right to speak up, to break these so-called norms. All of us."

Stiles took another breath, straightening his notes. 

"Though the Mating Run may be void, we have implemented ways to address the issues that come with that decision." He steered himself back on track.

"For one, Mating Runs can now be implemented on a voluntary Sector-based agenda. Omegas, Alphas, and Betas may enter their name into a drawing or similar fashion to previous traditions, to ensure that people still have the opportunity to meet others and pursue a relationship in the way they choose to, while respecting their desire to run. We are aware that tradition is important for many, but we feel as though no one should have to be forced to participate." 

It was fair, in Stiles' eyes, in the pack's. He hoped it was in everyone else's too. He never wanted anyone else to feel that dread again as their name was called. Let them enter if they wished, but leave them out if they didn't want to participate. 

"In addition," time to bite the bullet. "I would like to announce that it has officially been signed into effect by a majority rule of thirty-nine to eleven that Omegas are now allowed to run for leadership positions, such as Sector Omegas." 

An uproar even louder than the first, but Stiles took a moment to note that it wasn't anger. It was. . .  confusion, and even fear, but many were cheering in support. While these things had been in discussion for a while behind the scenes, people hadn't yet been able to confirm their suspicions. For those on the outside, the world was rapidly changing. 

"However, let it be known that Sector Omegas need not be mated to a Sector Alpha to be placed in this position." Stiles roared over the crowd.

"And who gave you the authority?" A man shouted, pointing his finger angrily.

"Who gave Alphas the authority?" Stiles questioned, pinching himself for retorting like that. It was unsophisticated, immature. 

The man's face grew purple, but he sat down, as did the rest of the crowd, ready to listen once more.

"Our aim is to change the world for the better, to offer inclusion and give people the choice to live as they like without impeding or negatively affecting the lives of others. We are well aware that many are comfortable with tradition. The idea is not to ban or discourage Alpha Omega relationships, but to give people the freedom to choose, to recognize that this may not be the norm for people anymore. For centuries, it has been accepted that Alphas and Omegas were the ideal relationship, but we want everyone to not feel abnormal for maintaining a different kind of relationship, whether it be Omega-Omega, Alpha-Omega, Beta-Beta, or even Alpha-Alpha." 

Stiles needed to start wrapping this up, the crowd was growing restless, itching with questions.

"My hope is that one day my children can grow up in a world where everyone sits at the same table at lunch. Where they can walk home from school without fear. Where they can meet someone nice and not care if they are an Alpha, or Beta, or Omega, or anyone else." 

People began to look around at that. Anyone else?

"My hope is that everyone," Stiles looked directly into the biggest camera for this, "will feel welcomed to live the life that they would like to live. From this day forth, I vow to do everything I can to create a world of acceptance, to all."

With that, Stiles stepped back from the podium and his breathing started again once the crowd erupted in claps and cheers. He only hoped the people viewing this message from behind a screen felt the same way.

Stiles took a seat next to Derek. This time, it was Derek who avoided Stiles' gaze, who didn't place his hand on his thigh. It hurt Stiles more than it should have.

"At this time, we will entertain questions from the press." Talia spoke at the podium, before taking a seat once more.

At once, everyone stood and waved and shouted. Stiles was thankful when Talia took the first question, as he was unsure of where to even look.

"Alpha Talia Hale, how does this ruling impact your authority and credibility, given that you were essentially the creator of the Mating Run?" A woman asked.

"As Stiles previously stated, the mating run, unfortunately, did not turn out how we had planned. We sought to unite Omegas and Alphas and give them an opportunity to meet and mate in a safe environment. It is unfortunate that it has turned into a crooked political publicity stunt." 

The dramatic words shocked the room, but she was right. Stiles had full confidence that Talia did not set out to make the world this way when she created the Mating Run and it wasn't at all her fault that it had. And as for her authority, her credibility, well, these people simply had no idea of what she was capable of. 

"Alpha Derek Hale!" A man shouted next, Talia barely finished closing her mouth.

Derek seemed slightly taken aback that someone had called for him, but nodded the man ahead nonetheless.

"How do these decisions validate you as an Alpha, or even as a man?" He shouted from the back.

Derek made a face. What a shit question. "Are you implying that equality somehow makes me less of an Alpha, of a man?"

The reporter's face turned red and he said nothing.

"If anything, I am an even stronger Alpha, even better of a man with Stiles by my side, not as my Omega, but as someone who had the balls to make these decisions, to take on the weight of starting a better world, and perhaps most importantly, to challenge me." Derek snapped.

Not exactly a professional statement, but it was entirely a Derek response, not to mention it made Stiles' heart swell. 

"Mr. Stilinski!" Another woman shouted. Stiles nodded to her.

"The world has heard little of you and Derek's relationship, how are you both?"

Perhaps she was trying to be kind. Perhaps she was trying to pry. 

Stiles swallowed. "The state of things has certainly put some stress on us both, but we are. . ." Fine? Okay? Slowly day by day killing each other? "leaning on each other during these times." 

It was then Stiles felt Derek go rigid and for a moment he thought he had said something wrong, before he noticed Major Wilson give some sort of signal, or so he assumed.

"No further questions at this time." Talia spoke rather quickly, before the entire pack stood and cleared the stage. The reporters snapped more pictures as they made their way back into the Hale mansion calmly, while the reporters were forced to remain in their seats until they were safe inside.

Once there, Major Wilson whispered something in Derek's ear, who only nodded sternly. 

The pack gathered in the living room as the reporters were all lead back to their vehicles and off of the Hale property as quick as possible. 

Stiles figured that he would ask what had just happened later, perhaps when Derek cooled off.

"Well, I think that went very well." Talia nodded to Stiles. 

"I went a little off track." He scratched the back of his neck. They had practiced this for a reason.

"Yet you handled it well," Talia spoke, appearing to be pleased. "Now then, let's all get changed for dinner, shall we?" 

"Please, God, these heels are killing me." Erica moaned.

"You only walked like twenty yards max." Isaac spoke, rolling his eyes and crossing his arms.

"And these are six inch stilettos, you try walking in grass with these bastards on." She rolled her eyes right back, before slipping off the sleek back stilettos and heading upstairs. The pack soon followed her, Stiles and Derek trailing up last.

They walked to their room in silence, with Derek shutting the door rather forcefully and practically ripping off his suit jacket and loosening his tie. He ran a hand through his hair, disheveling it just the way Stiles liked it. 

"You were angry, you're still angry." Stiles pointed out quietly. Derek took a moment to take a deep breath, hands on his hips.

"What makes you think that?" He asked, still not looking at Stiles.

"You wouldn't look at me. . . or touch me." Stiles finished rather quickly. He had grown used to the man's simple touches, so that when they were gone, things didn't feel right.

Derek's nostrils flared. "I'm not angry, maybe I was at first, but. . . I am extremely fucking proud. And I didn't look at you or touch you because I was afraid that if I did, I would mount you right then and there, in front of all those cameras." At this Derek makes eye contact. 

Stiles blinked. "They'd probably air it as a throwback special to the Mating Run." 

Derek closed his eyes and sighed, though Stiles spotted a slight upturn of his lips. "Sometimes I wonder how your brilliant mind says things like you did on stage, and then turns around and says stuff like that." 

"Comes with the charm I suppose." Stiles shrugged, taking off his suit jacket and hanging it on the back of a chair, before loosening his tie as well. His clothes felt suffocating and itchy. He found himself constantly wanting to wrap up in bulky layers, the constant cold nipping at him, yet everything he wore clawed at his skin.

"I never got to say how good you looked." Derek spoke, taking his tie off and throwing it on the floor without care, stepping closer to Stiles.

"Yeah, well, Cora slapped some shit on my face and-" Stiles began to wave his hands.

"That's not what I was referring to." Derek cut him off, snaking his arm around to grab Stiles' ass, who blushed and laughed. Either Derek really wasn't mad, or he got over it pretty quickly.

"You don't look so bad yourself." Stiles pointed out. It was true. Derek looked good in everything, but damn the man could pull off a suit.

"I have a good tailor." Derek winked. Stiles laughed, placing a hand on Derek's chest.

"So. . .  you really aren't mad?" Stiles asked, looking up at Derek through his lashes.

"No Stiles, I'm not mad, I promise." He smiled softly. 

Stiles nodded, before he leaned up and stole Derek's lips for a kiss. Derek tightened his grip on Stiles' hip, sucking in a breath and deepening the kiss. Stiles snaked his hand into Derek's hair, pulling slightly, just the way he knew Derek liked it.

They hadn't done much these past few weeks, too busy and too stressed, but for at least a little bit, in moments like this, they felt almost normal. Stiles felt like he could breathe. Well, not now, not with Derek kissing him like that.

"Derek," Stiles breathed, pulling back to catch his breath. Derek went to work on his neck, sucking and nipping at his sensitive skin like he couldn't get enough. While Derek would heal, Stiles would not, he would wear these bruises for days and the thought sent a wave of heat down to his groin.

"Taste incredible." Derek mumbled, shaking his head slightly in disbelief. He pulled back to kiss Stiles again, so hard it was bruising, but Stiles only pressed for more, pulling Derek closer by his belt loops. 

He needed more, needed Derek against his body, needed to feel him. 

Without another thought, Stiles grabbed the bottom of Derek's shirt, untucking it and sliding his hand onto Derek's hip, feeling the fiery skin that covered his muscle, warming him down to his very bones.

Derek growled into his mouth, fueling Stiles further. With shaky hands, he tried to undo the bottom button on Derek's shirt, but with frustration realized he was too frazzled. Derek, on the other hand, was solely focused on Stiles and destroying his neck.

He too pulled Stiles' shirt out from his pants, but rather than waste time, he ripped all the buttons and slid the shirt over Stiles' shoulders.

"I liked that shirt." Stiles mumbled into Derek's mouth. 

"I'll buy you another one." Derek mumbled right back. He snaked his hand onto Stiles' neck, moving his head to gain access to his mouth completely. 

Stiles moaned as Derek's tongue was thrust into his mouth, overtaking him completely.

Stiles fumbled with the buttons again, before Derek covered Stiles' hands with his own, gently moving them to unbutton his own shirt quickly and throwing it to the floor. 

"Derek," Stiles moaned as the other man began peppering kisses down his neck, then the top of his chest. Stiles needed more.

Derek ignored him, kissing down his chest like he was on a mission to taste every square inch of Stiles' skin. He snaked his tongue over Stiles' nipple, making the younger man throw back his head with a quick intake of breath. He'd never felt that before.

Derek paused then and smirked as he gazed up at Stiles. He maintained eye contact as he repeated the action, making Stiles throw back his head again with a groan. That, that Derek liked.

"Der," Stiles began, gripping his bicep with such force Derek's skin went white under Stiles' fingertips.

Derek sank to his knees and began kissing his lower belly, sending Stiles into a frenzy.

He felt like he was going to explode, skin so hot he thought at one point he was on fire. His hard cock pressed painfully against his slacks and Derek was so close to it that Stiles thought he might pass out just from the sight.

Derek paused as his tongue grew closer to the waistline of Stiles' pants, mere inches away. 

"Please, please." Stiles panted, snaking his hand in Derek's hair, encouraging and begging at the same time.

"You sure you want this?" Derek asked. Ever the gentleman.

"Yes," Stiles breathed out. God, he was so sure. He hadn't felt this alive in weeks, he needed this, needed Derek.

Derek pulled back slightly to maintain his eye contact with Stiles as he slowly unbuttons and dragged his zipper down painstakingly slow, giving the Omega a last minute out if he wanted it. 

"Jesus fucking-" Stiles bit his lip as Derek palmed Stiles' aching cock. He grabbed the waistband of Stiles' underwear and slacks and with the speed of an actual fucking snail pulled them down his thighs, taking him in.

"Derek, I swear to God." Stiles panted and Derek only smirked, looking at Stiles' leaking cock. It was torture, sweet, wonderful torture.

"What do you need, baby?" He asked, soothingly rubbing his hands up and down Stiles' thighs, acting as though he was oblivious to Stiles' desperation.

"Anything, anything, God please." He was going to burn up, he was on fire, dear God.

"Shh, shh, breathe baby." Derek rubbed those hands up and down again, waiting for Stiles to listen to him and take a breath. Their separation, the waiting, it had built and built to where Stiles literally felt like he couldn't take it.

After a few moments, Derek took Stiles' cock in his hands, and they both let out a moan at the same time, Derek's eyes glowing red instantly with the simple touch.

"Need to taste you," He growled out lowly.

"Yes, God, please," Stiles begged.

Without warning, Derek took Stiles into his mouth, swallowing him down quickly. Stiles threw back his head, panting like he had just run a marathon. This was how he would die.

"Oh my God, Derek, Derek." Stiles chanted his name, biting down on his fist so he wouldn't cum right then and there. 

Derek's only response was to hum around his cock and he unbuttoned his own pants. 

The man had expertise, he had to, because the blowjob that Stiles was receiving right now was actually out of this fucking world. Was this an Alpha thing? Was this a Derek thing? Stiles didn't know, or really care, all he knew was that he was receiving the best blowjob of all blowjobs from Alpha Derek fucking Hale.

"Derek, oh my God." Stiles moaned, adding a second hand to Derek's hair and pulling. He tried his best not to thrust, to push, if anything he was just hanging on as he felt like his legs were going to collapse from under him. 

Derek went down lower on his cock and Stiles felt the tip of his dick touch the back of Derek's throat.

"Jesus, Derek, I'm gonna-" Stiles stopped to let out a moan as Derek cupped his balls.

He gave no other warning as he came hard, shooting down the back of Derek's throat, who swallowed it all like it was nothing. Stiles' legs were so shaky he thought he was going to pass out, but Derek was there, practically holding him up.

Stiles panted, blinking away the dark spots in his vision as Derek stood. His pupils were blown wide and his eyes were blazing a deep red, locked onto Stiles'. 

"Lemme taste," Stiles panted, knowing it would drive Derek crazy. The man growled and leaned in, kissing Stiles deeply. As he did so, Stiles snaked his hands into Derek's pants, pulling out his heavy cock.

"Christ." He whispered against Derek's lip as the man let out a moan. His cock was enormous, and he didn't even have a knot right now.

Stiles slowly pumped the man, who turned to liquid gold in his palms. Derek watched as Stiles' seemingly petite hand was wrapped his cock, stroking him. 

"Stiles," he breathed, throwing back his head as Stiles twisted his hand in a certain way. Stiles didn't have a lot of experience in the bedroom, but he did have a lot of experience jerking himself off. Surely doing it on someone else couldn't be that different. 

"I'm gonna cum." He growled out. Stiles pumped him harder, helping him reach his climax, as Derek shot his load all over Stiles' stomach in thick streaks, coating it.

"Fuck." Stiles spoke, feeling like he was going to climax again just from the sight of Derek all over his stomach. 

Derek took a moment to catch his breath before he slowly swiped a finger through his mess, and sucked it into his mouth. 

Holy fuck, Stiles didn't think anything could be hotter than that. Then Derek swiped up more and held it up to Stiles' mouth. Never mind, there was indeed something hotter. 

Stiles had never seen Derek look so wild than in that moment, the moment Stiles sucked Derek's cum soaked finger into his mouth, cleaning it off with a hum. Not even when Derek was covered in blood, or when he almost attacked the pack at the air base. This right here was the most savage and out of control Derek had ever looked, and Stiles fucking loved it.

"I think that was the best thing that has ever happened in my life." Stiles spoke, still breathing heavily.

Derek smirked, eyes still blazing red and rubbing circles on Stiles' hips. He leaned down and kissed him, tasting himself on Stiles' lips with a groan. He broke the kiss to place his hands on the back of Stiles' thighs, lifting him up and carrying him to the bed that they were too in a hurry to climb into.

He tucked Stiles near him, not even bothering to clean them both up. He needed to scent him, needed him near.

Derek nuzzled into Stiles' neck as Stiles closed his eyes and let out a yawn. This right here, this was what it should feel like, this is what it should be like.

"Go to sleep," Derek spoke, knowing Stiles was fighting exhaustion. "There's plenty more where that came from."

Stiles snorted and mustered enough energy to gently slap the man's bicep before he succumbed to sleep. 

***

The next morning Stiles woke up feeling better than he had in months. His body wasn't stiff or freezing cold, but rather Stiles woke up feeling refreshed and alive again.

He stretched with a yawn, before opening his eyes. Derek's side of the bed was once again empty, except for a note.

Stiles rolled over onto his stomach and propped himself up on his elbows to read to the note that looked like it had been haphazardly ripped out of a notebook.

Had to run and do some "political junk." Everything's fine, so stop worrying. I'll be back soon. 

- Der

Stiles rolled his eyes, but smiled, tossing the note onto his nightstand. 

Scratching the back of his head, he made his way to the shower, where he spent too much time debating whacking one out before deciding that it wasn't the best idea considering he was surrounded by wolves who could hear everything he did, which then made him realize, oh my God, they totally might have heard him last night. 

Eventually, Stiles made his way downstairs, where he was greeted by Alpha Talia Hale, sitting at the breakfast table with Cora. What an odd sight.

"Good morning, Stiles. How did you sleep?" Talia asking, taking a sip out of a baby blue mug that had long since been identified as hers. Stiles walked to the cabinet and pulled out his own red mug with the small chip in the handle.

"Awesome, actually." Stiles gave her a polite smile.

"You actually have some color to your cheeks." Cora noted, taking a sip of her own coffee. Stiles had long since stopped looking in the mirror, but he was curious if that was true. Maybe sex really did make you glow.

"So where did everyone head off to?" Stiles asked, taking a seat and changing the subject.

"To the air base, checking to make sure everything is in order," Talia spoke.

Stiles nodded, but wondered why things wouldn't be in order already? Because of the planned attack? Or because of the press conference? 

"No need to worry, I'm sure they'll be back very soon. In the meantime, I was wondering if you would accompany me." 

Stiles swallowed his coffee quickly, burning his tongue.

"Accompany you? Where?"

"Well, today is sort of a day of errands, we all have some things we need to get done, don't we Cora?" Talia raised her eyebrows, looking at the teenager. Cora rolled her eyes with a huff, before setting down her mug and heading towards her bedroom.

"She's waited almost three weeks to do laundry and it's starting to smell." Talia shook her head. "Regardless, I was wondering if you would feel comfortable seeing our pack healer and emissary, Dr. Alan Deaton."

"A healer?" Stiles asked, picking at the chip in his mug.

"Just to make sure everything is okay." Talia gave a comforting smile. 

Stiles chewed on his lip. He supposed it made sense. After everything he had been through, and everything he had yet to go through, it made sense that they wanted to make sure he was okay.

"Yeah, alright." Stiles nodded.

"Wonderful. His clinic is not too far from here. Run upstairs and we'll get ready to go." Talia placed their mugs in the sink, ushering Stiles upstairs. 

Stiles was essentially ready, so he threw on a pair of shoes and a jacket and met Talia back downstairs. The house was quiet when they left, as far as Stiles knew only Cora was home. His father had mentioned returning back to work today, which made Stiles extremely nervous, but John tried his best to convince him he would be alright.

Stiles just hoped that was true.

***

Talia Hale drove a lot different than Derek did. Where Derek was quick turns and constant acceleration, Talia was smooth and never in a hurry. 

Stiles watched as they passed cars and wondered what those people were thinking about, what they were listening to. He wondered if the people on the radio were talking about him, or if the stations still played music. 

Soon enough they pulled up to a small white building with clean cut architecture. The sign out front simply said "Dr. Alan Deaton's Clinic." Strange.

As they walked through the front door, a little bell rang and a receptionist looked up. 

"Hi there! Mr. Stiles Stilinksi?" She asked. The tag on her bright purple button-up read Mary. 

"Yes." Stiles cleared his throat, nodding. He stuck his hands in his jacket pocket, hoping it would help with the fidgeting. 

"Alrighty. . ." The receptionist trailed off, clicking some buttons on her computer, eyes darting back and forth. 

"You're all checked in, Dr. Deaton should be with you- oh! There he is now!" She smiled, as a dark skinned man came around the corner. 

"Alpha Talia Hale, Mr. Stilinski," Deaton greeted. "Nice to see you both. Please, follow me." 

Stiles swallowed, but did just that, all the way into a small examination room. He took a seat on an uncomfortable chair, while Talia stood by the door and Deaton took a seat on a stool with wheels. 

"So, how are we feeling today, Stiles?" Deaton asked, looking at a clipboard that Stiles assumed had his information on it. 

"Uh, good?" Stiles spoke.

"You don't sound too convincing." Deaton turned to him with a teasing smile on his lips. 

"Talia, would you mind?" Deaton asked. 

Stiles balked at the fact that not only did Deaton essentially just asked her to leave but he spoke so incredibly informal to her, calling her Talia. It was extremely disrespectful, but Talia seemed unphased. 

"Of course, let me know if you need anything." Talia squeezed Stiles' shoulder, then left the room. 

As soon as the door shut, Stiles felt even colder, hands growing stiff. He sunk them back into his jacket pockets and shrunk back into his chair. The man seemed friendly enough, and he was obviously to be trusted if Talia not only brought Stiles here, but left him alone.

"So, Stiles? How have things been going?" Deaton asked, looking up from his clipboard.

"Um," Stiles cleared his through. "Good, yeah, uh good." He nodded. 

Stiles didn't really have much experience with doctors. They couldn't afford visits when Stiles was younger, so most of Stiles' idea of doctors came from books, news stories, or overhearing teenage girls discussing Grey's Anatomy in the hallways of high school.

Deaton nodded, clearly seeing that they weren't going to get very far.

"Stiles, I would like to build a level of trust with you. My only goal here is to make sure that you're okay, and that you continue to be." Deaton paused. "I have been the pack's emissary since before Derek was born. I care about this pack, and I care about you and your well being. That being said, I'm going to have to ask some very personal questions here. Please let me know if you need to stop, or are uncomfortable answering anything."

Stiles swallowed, but nodded in agreeance. This was all starting to make him feel like something wasn't okay.

"Let's start way back with the mating run. Physically, did everything go okay that night?"

Stiles' cheeks reddened, remembering the night. Things started out so not okay, but ended up more than okay. "Uh, yeah I suppose they did."

"Great, no pain or discomfort?" Deaton asked, writing down something.

Besides having a giant fucking knot in my asshole? Stiles thought. 

"No, none." He answered instead.

"Good. And afterward, nothing of concern?" Deaton continued scribbling down notes, the sound of his scratching pen on paper filling the room's silence.

Stiles shook his head no, wringing his fingers.

"Great. Now then," Deaton stopped writing and looked to Stiles. "When was the last time you and Derek had sex?"

Stiles choked. Deaton wasn't joking when he said there would be personal questions. 

Taking a deep breath, Stiles broke eye contact with Deaton, instead turning his focus to a framed picture of some random flower, hung on the bland grey walls. He knew that he and Derek didn't exactly have a normal relationship, but sometimes he hated talking about it with so many other people. He wanted it to just be him and Derek, especially lately.

"We haven't. Not since the mating run." Stiles answered rather softly.

"Nothing at all?" Deaton furrowed his brows.

"Not. . . not like before."

"Anally, you mean?" Deaton spoke, unabashed. 

Stiles nodded, trying not to grimace at the conversation. 

"May I ask if things are going okay with you two?" Deaton crossed his legs and folded his hands together, now looking like a shrink.

"They're great, actually." Stiles nodded, forcing a smile.

He knew Deaton would wonder, then, why they hadn't had sex. And honestly. . .  Stiles didn't have a good answer. Before, he could say that he wasn't ready, that he wasn't there with Derek yet, but that wasn't true, not now at least. His heart ached for Derek, he craved his touch, and he knew that he was ready. 

Deaton paused for a moment, before returning to his clipboard. "I'm going to run through some things with you, and I just want you to tell me if you've experienced any of these symptoms, alright?"

Stiles nodded in understanding. His stomach was in knots and his heart and head were both pounding. He was starting to feel sick and wasn't sure if it was simply the conversation that they were having, or something else. 

"Have you been cold recently?" Deaton asked.

Stiles nodded, bundling up further, as though the words themselves had caused shivers to go down his spine.

"Difficulty sleeping?"

"Sometimes." Stiles mumbled. He slept well most of the time when he lied next to Derek, but sometimes he would wake up and toss and turn for a bit before he was able to fall back asleep. 

"Fatigue?"

"Yes." 

He was so tired, all the time. Getting out of bed was not an easy task, especially when he woke up next to Derek. All he wanted to do was stay in bed all day with the man. 

"Weight loss?" Deaton asked.

"Yes." 

"Feelings of weakness?"

"Yes." 

"Lack of appetite?"

". . .yes." 

Stiles clenched his teeth, looking down at his lap. He fought the tears that were rising. Why was this happening to him? Everything was seemingly so perfect, he was happy. Why was his body doing this to him?

"Dr. Deaton. . . what's happening to me?" Stiles asked quietly. Unsure if Deaton had even finished his questions, but knowing he would check all the boxes.

"Stiles. . . I am afraid that your body is simply growing too weak."

"I don't get it, we. . . I mean we touch all the time, he's around all the time. We're still physical, we. . ." Stiles trailed off. This was so ridiculous. There were millions of people that weren't having sex for whatever their reasons, why was this happening to him? 

"Unfortunately, once the claim has started, it is practically impossible to stop the bonding that ensues, pushing you two together. While you and Derek may be very happy and emotionally secure, your body doesn't know that. Your biology, your intrinsic, they say that you two haven't completed the bond, and your body, and Derek's, will do whatever it can to finish the bond. Given that you say you and Derek are doing well, relationship wise, I can only recommend you completing the bond. Completion of the bond is the only way to rid yourself of these symptoms and return to peak health." 

Stiles nodded. He understood, and in all honesty, this had always been something he knew. It just was never an issue explored because people who were mated were typically hopelessly in love. Alphas and Omegas did a lot of things they probably shouldn't when it came to sex, but one thing people didn't do was bond and mate just for the heck of it. It was their most sacred, unspoken rule. You couldn't fake it, and no amount of sex in the world would be the same as being mated. Beneath everything, no matter what image you upheld, it was something you would always yearn for.

Of course, there have been instances of claiming an Omega and bonding, and then it not working out, though the Mating Run media pretended otherwise. Those people had plenty of sex, sure, but they weren't mated. They may have tried, but you mate for life. If it doesn't click immediately, it won't. The whole idea of the Mating Run is to find your person for life, and after Stiles has learned what he did, he realized that the Mating Run was all planned. There was no random drawing, you were matched to a specific person for a specific reason. Whether that reason was just for mating, for love, he couldn't be sure.

Mating had been described as the most intense feeling one can have. Severing a mating bond is like cutting off a limb, or even taking out a vital organ. It feels like literally ripping out your heart. Severing a mating bond only happened in extreme circumstances. Death, cheating, a crime. And it certainly wasn't in Stiles' sites. 

He wanted Derek, in every way. And he knew it wasn't just the bond talking, pushing him, drawing him to Derek. Fundamentally, regardless of the biology, Stiles cared for Derek in a way he couldn't describe. The closest way he could put it into words was to say that  he was starting to fall in love. 

Completing the bond with Derek sounded simple enough, but finding a way to explain to Derek the severity of their situation, Stiles' feelings, and listening to Derek's own, while also trying to find a way to somehow make it sexy rather than a chore? That felt like an impossible task.

"However-" Deaton began

Stiles snapped his head up. However?

"I am afraid there may be complications that we need to address." 

"Complications?" Stiles breathed out. 

Deaton nodded grimly. "Under normal circumstances, your heat most likely would have been triggered by now, forcing the bond to complete. Quite frankly, I am surprised you have yet to go into heat. However, I believe that due to the present circumstances, your body is under too much stress and too weak to naturally trigger a heat cycle." 

Stiles froze. He ran through the days in his head and his stomach dropped. Deaton was right. . .  how had he not had a heat yet? There were so many days in the beginning like he felt like he was on the verge, just from a simple touch, a gland for Derek, or his scent. But then things began to change, the world began to change and his body just hadn't caught up. Stiles was used to about a once a year heat, and he was overdue. The fact that his heat hadn't been triggered. . . something was wrong. 

"There are still options, we can induce your heat." Deaton began, slowly. 

Stiles made a face. Inducing it was one of the worst ways to have a heat. It forced the worst symptoms on you all at once, rather than gradually. He had only heard of it being done to assist with pregnancy, and once in a book where a woman was crazy and trying to frame a murder.

"There is no way to do this naturally?" Stiles asked, voice shaky. 

"It is certainly an option, but I am afraid of your chances. Triggering a heat at this point in your bond is unlikely, your body is beginning to give up on the premise of being mated, and even if you can trigger a heat, the effects may be. . . overwhelming."

"What do you mean?" Stiles asked. The effects, the symptoms, they were worse than he thought, worse than he would have expected. Of course, he didn't expect any of this. There were many worries Stiles had when his name was called out at the drawing. Never once did the idea of not being bonded cross his mind. 

"If we can get your body to the point of being healthy enough to trigger a heat, meaning building up to one, once the heat is triggered there will be no stopping it. No gradual heat. It would be, honestly, hell. The most intense you have ever experienced. Your body is trying to make up for lost time, and ensure the bond is completed no matter what. Your desires, your feelings, your typical heat symptoms will be elevated drastically. Given how your body is so weakened right now, I worry that the heat may be too much."

Stiles shook his head and ran a hand through his hair. Death by heat. Death by sex. The idea was ridiculous, yet very much a possibility. 

How had it gotten this bad? Where did they go wrong? Fuck, they were happy. It was slow, it was gradual, and Stiles knew it still could be, but. . . the reality was that if Stiles had any hope of this relationship working, of them being a united front, they couldn't just be on the same page emotionally. 

Stiles wasn't an idiot either, he knew Derek was a man, an Alpha at that. A man had needs, had cravings. It was already revealed that Derek had been struggling with control. As much as Stiles was breaking down, Derek was only growing stronger. Their bodies, though anatomically different, were slowly forcing them together, until it was too late. Until Derek snapped, or until Stiles broke. 

"With the option of inducing a heat, at least it would be over with quickly and we could start as soon as today. I can't make the same promise if you choose to go naturally." Deaton spoke sympathetically.

Stiles felt sick. The last thing he wanted to do was force a heat on himself and Derek. The news alone was horrifying, let alone the idea of inducing a heat by tonight. 

He had always dreaded heats, especially when he was on the streets. It was few nights a year his father made sure to try and save up as much as he could to get a room at a seedy motel. The feeling of a heat, though glorious for many who were spending it with loved ones, was only tied to bad memories for Stiles. Memories of scratchy sheets full of scents of unclean men. Of paper thin walls that revealed that others were listening. To cat calls and growls and red eyes staring at him in an ally as he just tried to make it behind a locked door. 

As much as Stiles hated to admit it, he knew that his past had to have played a role in all of this. His body wanted this. His heart wanted this. But his mind, his subconscious, was telling him that this was all a horrible idea. 

The opinions he held onto, the ideals that he thought would forever be true, shattered almost overnight. And he knew he could, and had to, get over this. He deserved it. Derek deserved it.

He wasn't in the streets anymore. He had a home, a family. The world was changing, things weren't the same anymore.  He had someone who cared about him, who protected him, who put him first. He deserved to be loved and he deserved to love. 

"I want to try it naturally," Stiles concluded. "I know the risk, but. . . it's how I want it to be."

Deaton nodded. "Of course. I would suggest progress begin today, if at all possible." 

"Meaning, we need to start trying to trigger the heat today." Stiles spoke.

Though hearing what he had today was anything but easy, he knew at least one positive would come out of this. He would be mated to Derek, meaning he would finally get to spend a heat with someone he trusted.

"Correct. Take it slow, in a sense. Build up your bond strength, as well as your own strength. I know this is hard to hear, and I don't mean to worry you, Stiles, but time is of the essence if this is how you want your heat to go. If you want to be bonded to Derek." Deaton added on the last sentence as almost an afterthought, as a sort of just-in-case, but he needn't be concerned. 

Stiles nodded, suddenly aching for Derek. For his warmth. 

"I thought things were getting better, Cora said. . . " Stiles trailed off. She said he had some color to his cheeks. He felt better. But it wasn't enough.

"Perhaps a step in the right direction." Deaton smiled softly. 

"I hope things go well for you, Stiles. Please don't hesitate to reach out with any questions or concerns. Is there anything else I can do for you today?"

Stiles shook his head and stood, legs feeling stiff and achy. He puffed out his cheeks and expelled them slowly, ready to go home. 

"Please do not hesitate to reach out with any questions or concerns."

They shook hands, and Stiles walked out of the clinic quickly into the cool autumn day. He shivered against the wind, not seeing Talia until her hand was rested against his back.

"Let's get you home." 

***

Arriving back at the Hale mansion felt strange, in a way. Stiles wasn't entirely sure why, he just knew that it felt like everything had changed. . . again.

Derek was still gone and not knowing when he would be back, Stiles took the time to think, to plan. And then he called Scott.

"Well, I mean, there is one positive out of this whole thing?" Scott spoke.

Stiles sighed, though he had a slight smile on his face. He was spinning around on Talia's office chair, a room he felt without any doubt was soundproof. It felt good to talk to Scott, to be able to explain everything, without any loaded questions to having to structure his sentences while keeping in mind that everything he said was being recorded and interpreted. 

"You get to have, like, a lot of sex." Scott spoke. Stiles could picture Scott in that moment, sitting in his own office chair, though it was in front of a much smaller, much messier student desk. Scott would be picking at the threads in his jeans, and be wearing a grimace, though he would be happy for his friend.

Stiles laughed. Leave it to Scott to always look on the bright side. It was then he truly ached for Scott, to see him again. It felt safer now, like it was actually a possibility to see him soon. He hoped he could, but it would be best to push it off for now, at least until after the heat. 

They talked for a while longer, just random things, and Stiles was once again grateful to just talk, no agendas. Scott updated him on a new girl he met, Kira, who he said was unlike anyone he had ever met.

Stiles could practically feel Scott's heated cheeks through the phone. He sounded absolutely enthralled, and Stiles was insanely happy for Scott. 

After their goodbyes, Stiles sat there a moment later, in Talia's office, staring at nothing. He felt strange, because. . . even after everything he learned today, even after everything that had been going on in his life, he was happy. He knew it would be okay. Because he had a home. Because he had a family. 

Because he had Derek.