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The Art of Submission

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"True strength lies in submission which permits one to dedicate his life, through devotion, to something beyond himself."  Henry Miller



It's been said that your life flashes before your eyes when you're about to die.  But it doesn't.  Because Derek was about to die and all he could think about was Stiles.  The hand wrapped around his throat cutting off his air, claw pressed into the skin and suddenly Derek's own life was the furthest from his mind.  Memories of his family, fear for his pack, all of it faded to the background behind his worry for Stiles; everything he hadn't said to him, things they'd never done because of Derek's silence. Fear for Stiles being forced into submission after Derek was killed and unable to protect him any longer.


Derek understood the art of submission.  He couldn't spend two years submitting to his sister and not understand the mindset of it.  One had to be strong to submit, there was no weakness in true submission, only strength.  Deep down he knew that from before and yet now, it warred with his very nature.  Just the idea of submitting made the Alpha side of him growl in anger and warning.  But even he knew that sometimes the Alpha had to submit for the good of his pack and this was going to be one of those times.  He needed to save his energy and his wits to deal with the return of the Alpha pack.  And to do that he needed to stop arguing with Stiles and just let him have his way.  It would be easier.

"Fine," he ground out through clenched teeth.  "You can stay."  He glared at Stiles.  "But one word," he stepped closer until his finger was in Stiles' face.  "One wrong word and I will punish you right there in front of them because it will be the only way for me to save face.  Understand?"

Wordlessly, Stiles nodded and Derek stared at him for several long seconds until he was sure Stiles understood he was serious.  Stiles gave him another little nod. 

"Got it.  Mouth zipped.  Promise."

He mimed zipping his lips and throwing away the key and something in his eyes assured Derek that this time Stiles really would listen to him.  Derek had seen that look before, the handful of times Stiles had submitted to his will and followed his directions.  He hoped he was right, he wanted to believe he was, because if he was wrong and Stiles did screw up?  It would be bad for all of them.

Stiles had always been an independent spirit. He was one of the few people that could and would stand up to Derek when he thought he was being an ass. It was one of the reasons why Derek liked and admired him. If Derek was being honest with himself, which he rarely was, Stiles was what he would look for in a mate.  Someone who would challenge him, who wasn't afraid to stand up to him, who would back him up when he needed support. The only downside was that Stiles didn't always know when he needed to let Derek be in charge. 

Derek could count on one hand the number of times Stiles had submitted to him.  Well, the first one couldn't even really be considered submitting but Stiles had done what Derek asked, or rather ordered when he told Scott and Stiles to get off his property.  And there had been his attempt to run away at the hospital when they'd figured out Peter was the Alpha and Derek had told him to run; actually risked his own life and gotten between Stiles and Peter. 

After Derek became the Alpha, things had changed.  Derek shook his head at himself.  He'd somehow made a habit of saving Stiles' life.  Of course Stiles had saved his life as well.  He'd once held Derek up in a pool for over two hours when he'd been paralyzed by Jackson.  Derek had taken a split second, made a rookie mistake, and turned his back on the kanima and pushed Stiles away, telling him to run.  Stiles had stayed, jumped into the pool with Derek and saved him.  It was one of the rare times Derek was grateful that Stiles was so bad at following orders.

The look Derek was seeing in Stiles' eyes right now, when Derek was telling ordering him to keep quiet was the same look he'd had the time Derek ordered him to break the mountain ash barrier around the rave.  He'd known how much effort it had taken for Stiles to make that barrier line.  He wasn't stupid, he could smell it on Stiles, the elation that it worked, the disappointment and frustration that he had to break it. Yet, at Derek's order, he'd done it.  A simple swipe of his hand and Derek clapped him on the shoulder, whispered, "Good boy," and took off to save Scott.  He missed seeing the look of pride on Stiles' face but he could smell it in the air.

It had been that moment, right then, that had given Derek the first inkling of just what could be between them. 

When Derek was satisfied that everyone was ready, they made their way back to the old abandoned railway car. Derek could almost hear Stiles wanting to say something about irony. He looked over at Stiles, could see the restrained energy and feel him practically vibrating out of his skin, but he was quiet.  Derek worried about how long that would last. 

"I see you've gotten your pack of misfit kids under much better control." 

Derek refocused his attention on Jeremy, the Alpha of the Alpha pack.  Kali, Ethan, Aiden, and even Deucalion were long gone.  Turned out they'd just been an advance party for something much worse. 

"They just needed time to mature a bit and settle into being werewolves.  They weren't born, like me.  You should understand that, neither were you."

Stiles made a muted sound behind him and Derek clenched his fist.  He knew he was baiting Jeremy a bit, but it didn't hurt to remind him that as far as werewolves go, Derek still had a slight edge over him, Alpha or not. 

"Sure you've got your human under control?" Jeremy smirked.

Derek didn't have to even turn to know the look Stiles had on his face.  He could feel the indignant rage flowing off him.  Jeremy could probably feel it too.  It angered him, knowing that Jeremy was baiting Stiles deliberately.

"A very tenuous control," Jeremy mused.

"Back off," Derek growled.  "You've seen we're fine, under control, and I've been gracious enough to grant you visitation in my territory.  I think it's time you leave now.

Jeremy let out a dark throaty chuckle.  "Or what?  You'll kill me?  Throw me out of your territory?  As if."

"Hey, überwolf boy!  You can't talk to him like that.  Remember what happened the last time you sent people here?  We killed them and then sent the lone survivor back to you with his tail between his legs.  So maybe you shouldn't piss us off.  I mean, there's only one of you and nine of us, not to mention I'm pretty sure Allison has her Dad on speed dial and so do I.  So yeah, that would be nine of us, a hunter and one seasoned Sheriff.  Sure you want all that raining fire down on your sorry ass?"

"Stiles!" Derek snarled, closing his eyes in frustration. 

"Bring your boy to heel or I will do it for you," Jeremy threatened, moving closer to the group.  "He'd be a nice addition to our group.  We've needed a human servant for a while now and I bet he would break so beautifully.  I'd love to see him on his knees for me."

Derek tensed and he felt the rest of his pack follow.  Jeremy wasn't alone.  Suddenly there were five other Alphas in the room.  It was as if they'd been waiting for some cue to appear.  Derek should have been able to sense them.

"Yeah, alone, not so much.  A witch was kind enough to give us a little magic dust.  Hides our presence when we need to.  After the last time, I knew we'd need the element of surprise with you.  Turns out I was right.  Now, bring that boy to heel or I will."

The entire room shook with the force of his voice and the other Alphas moved closer in anticipation.

"Derek?" Stiles asked in a quiet voice.  It made Derek's heart clench in his chest to hear the uncertainty in Stiles' voice.  They'd been close to this line for so long Derek was loath to cross it now and abhorred the idea of doing it publically.  It was something for another time, private, but now…

Jeremy stepped forward, his claws lengthening.

"Wait!" Stiles cried out.  "Just wait.  I'll do it.  Whatever it is you want, I'll do it.  I just –"

He moved up beside Derek, brushed their hands together.  Derek turned, looked at Stiles as a million emotions flooded through him, regret being the strongest, but Stiles nodded. His eyes told Derek they would be discussing this later, but they would be okay.

"Do it," he whispered.  "Bring me to heel for them, let's just get them the hell out of here.  Fixing is for later."

"No," Derek said firmly.  "I'm not going to force this on you or anyone else.  Ever."

A sixth wolf stepped out of the shadows.  Ethan.  The one with the biggest axe to grind.  Derek tried to shove Stiles behind him, but Jeremy's claw raked down his back before wrapping around his throat.  Within seconds Ethan had Stiles by the throat as well, teeth bared, pressing into Stiles' skin hard enough to leave an impression but not hard enough to break the skin. Yet. 

"No!" Derek shouted, his teeth elongating, claws coming out.

"Don't," Jeremy warned and Derek stopped, breath coming out in pants as the wounds on his back slowly started to heal and the tips of Jeremy's claws pressed into his throat.

He cast a helpless glance around the room.  They outnumbered the Alphas by three, but those three were human and one was currently not in any position to help.  Plus, they were Alphas; it would take at least two of his betas to take out an Alpha.  It had taken three of them plus Derek himself to take on Kali, and Jeremy was older and stronger than she'd been.

It pained Derek to even think about kneeling for Jeremy, but he'd do it for Stiles.  There was nothing weak in kneeling for a worthy pack member.  In fact, it was probably the most noble thing he could do as a leader, to go to his knees to protect a member of his pack. 

"Let him go and I'll do anything you want," Derek said quietly, satisfied when Jeremy's hand loosened around his throat.

"Derek, no!" Stiles cried out.

Derek could hear several muted growls around the room and knew his pack was distressed by his offer, but he understood there was no other way, not without blood and loss.

"We want him."

"You can't have him," Scott snarled from the darkness.

"Why is he so important to you?  He's just a worthless human."

"Then why do you want him so badly?"  Derek knew he needed to keep them talking.  He could sense Allison moving around, looking for the best shot and instinctually he knew that her Dad and the Sheriff were on their way.  For a brief second he almost wished Peter was here, it would at least even the numbers out a bit more.  Peter might have been a little crazy but he was strong.

There was no easy way out of this for them.  This was going to end badly, not at all like the spanking they'd given the Alphas two years ago.

"Look, you came here with the intent of making sure I had my pack under control, you've seen that.  I don't know what this whole thing is with Stiles, but you've made your point.  We're under control, we're not as strong as you, but then what did you expect.  You're all Alphas.  We may not be able to defeat you this time, but we defeated you before and word got around about that.  Maybe you're back to teach us a lesson, to set an example.  I don't know.  What I do know though, is that in addition to this being Hale territory?  It's also Argent territory.  And they don't look too kindly on werewolf violence here.  So even if you do beat us, you'll be watching your back for the rest of your life because I guarantee they will hunt you down like the dogs that you are."

"Derek," Stiles gasped out as Ethan's teeth pressed a little harder. 

 "Stop," Derek pleaded.  "Just, please."  Jeremy let him go and he stepped forward, keeping his back to Jeremy and stood in front of Stiles. 

"Derek, don't," Stiles shook his head as much as he could.  "Don't do this, please."

"I have to.  It'll be okay.  I promise."

"How touching.  What are you going to do?" Jeremy rocked back and forth on his heels, hands clasped behind his back, a smug look on his face.

Taking a deep breath, Derek turned and bent down, the intent to go to his knees clear. 

"No!" Stiles elbowed Ethan in the chest, shocking him enough to loosen his grip and Stiles stumbled forward, hands wrapping around Derek's biceps, struggling to pull him back up, turning them both away from Jeremy.  "Don't do this Derek.  Don't give him that kind of power.  I'll do it, okay?" he turned, looking over his shoulder at Jeremy.  "I'll go to my knees for him, just leave us alone."

Ethan roared and Derek gasped, coughing up blood that spattered all over Stiles' chest and neck. 

"NO!" Stiles cried out, staring down in horror at the pair of claws coming out of Derek's stomach.  "NO!  NO!"

The room erupted in chaos then.  Arrows started flying and there were sounds of fighting and snarling and the smell of blood was heavy and thick in the air.  Except for Derek.  All he could see was Stiles.  The pain in his belly was so big and all encompassing.  He knew he would heal; he'd healed from Ethan's wounds the last time, from Kali's even.  He was out of the fight though.  His pack would have to win this one on their own. 

"Derek, no, please," Stiles whimpered, stroking Derek's face with blood-stained, sweaty fingers. 

"Not," Derek coughed, the sound gurgly and ugly, and he could tell from the stricken look on Stiles' face that he was spitting up blood.  "Not going to let you go to your knees for them.  Only for me, when you're ready, only then."

"I'm ready, I'm ready," Stiles begged, tears formed and spilled down his cheeks.   He started to go to his knees but Derek just went with him.

"No, Stiles, not here.  Not now.  Not like this."

"Touching," Jeremy sneered.  "Jesus, Hale, how long does it take you to heal?  Ethan didn't hurt you that badly did he?  Tsk tsk."

Rage filled Stiles' face, Derek didn't think he'd ever seen Stiles that angry.  He recognized the look in Stiles' eye and opened his mouth to tell him no, but Stiles just pressed their lips together in a kiss before spinning around and shoving the wolfsbane coated knife he always carried right into Jeremy's chest.  "That's for coming back to our town," he snarled, pushing the knife in just a little bit more. 

Derek watched as Stiles twisted it, blood poured out of Jeremy and coated his hand.  "And that's for trying to kill my Alpha you bastard!"  He shoved again, and buried the knife to the hilt.

It wasn't enough to kill Jeremy and Derek knew it, with the last little bit of strength he had left he rose up his, claws fully extended, and tore Jeremy's throat out before slumping back down onto the floor at Stiles' feet and allowing the blackness take  him.

Voices.  He could hear voices.  They sounded foggy and far away but he could hear them.  They were irritating, like a fly buzzing around his head that he couldn't chase off, couldn't get rid of.  But there was something else, a rhythmic sound, familiar, soothing.  He wanted to follow it, bury himself in it, wrap it all around him until it was the only thing he heard. 


That voice, it came with that sound, the one that made him feel safe.  Blearily, he forced his eyes open, and grunted immediately as he tried to move, his chest pulling painfully.

"Careful."  Long fingers on very familiar hands gently pushed his shoulders back down.  "You've been out for a while."

"What happened?  Is-" Derek tried to sit up again.

"We're all fine.  Now lie back and let Stiles take care of you for God's sake, you've only just finished healing that wound in your belly.  If you rip it open I think Stiles might have an aneurysm."

Lydia's hand appeared from behind Stiles with a glass of water.  Stiles took it and held it up to Derek's lips, his other hand helping to raise Derek's head so he could swallow.  "Drink this."

Greedily, he gulped at the water, only to have Stiles take it away after only a few sips.

"Slowly, I don't want you puking it back up.  The blood is gonna be a bitch to clean up as it is."

He shot Stiles a glare but softened it when he saw the sheer exhaustion and worry that still hovered in Stiles' eyes along with the dark circles underneath them.

Defeated, Derek slumped back against the bed.  "What happened?  And how did I get back to your room?"

"Well, after you killed Jeremy and then passed out on us, Allison's Dad showed up along with mine and a bunch of deputies armed with wolfsbane bullets.  Don't worry, they had no idea that's what they were, Dad just told them there'd been new bullets requisitioned.  By the time they'd gotten there, Boyd and Scott had managed to kill Ethan while Isaac and Erica killed one of the others.  There was nothing left for them to do but clean up.  Dad gave them some story about drug dealers and how we'd stumbled upon their distribution center, or what they were hoping to make their distribution center.  Anyway, um, one of them might have wolfed out and Dad shot him, right in the head I might add, so it didn't take much for the deputies to open fire on the other two."

Dead.  The entire Alpha pack was dead.  They wouldn’t have any more trouble.  Ever.  "So, they're all –"

"Dead.  Deader than dead.  Dead.  No more Alpha pack.  And Scott and Isaac carried you to my Dad's car, followed us here and carried you up here."

Thoughts of what happened were making Derek's head throb, or maybe that was the healing or loss of blood.  He winced as he reached up to rub his forehead.  Stiles took that as his cue to usher everyone out.

"Okay, you've all seen him.  He's fine.  Now all of you out, go home, get cleaned up, I'm sure McBroodypants here will want some kind of regrouping pack meeting tomorrow, to figure out what this means.  But now, he needs to rest, finish healing and all.  Out."

His entire pack said goodbye, each of them touching him before they left.  Isaac squeezing his hand, Boyd, clapping him gently on the shoulder, Erica even leaned down and kissed him on the forehead until finally he and Stiles were alone.

The silence stretched out between them, long moments where the air got heavy and Derek shifted uncomfortably.

"I would have you know," Stiles said softly, raising his eyes to meet Derek's.  "I would have gone to my knees for you, for them."

"I know," Derek said simply.  "But –"

"Do you, is that not, I thought…" his voice trailed off in frustration.

"I do."  He could hear Stiles' heart jackrabbiting in his chest.  "Just not like that.  I meant what I said.  When you do that, if you do that, I want you to do it because you want to, not because you have to.  And, it's going to be private, not with an audience.  I don't like to share."

Stiles rubbed his hand over the back of his head.  Derek could tell he was nervous, agitated.  But he'd heard Stiles' heart, there was no hiding the fact that what Derek said had intrigued him way more than he was willing to let on right now.    

"Okay?" he asked firmly.

"Yeah, okay," Stiles agreed. 

Derek breathed a sigh of relief and slumped back against the pillows.

"Shit, I forgot, I mean I didn't forget, but I did, but, yeah, crap, you need to rest.  From the injury, from the healing, from everything –"


"Yeah?" Startled, Stiles looked up at him, his eyes wide and a bit glassy, the aftereffects of shock.

"Get in the bed."


Clumsily he toed off his tennis shoes and pulled the shirt over his head.  A pink flush spread across his chest as he dropped his hands to the fly of his jeans.  "Um, I'm just gonna, I need," he huffed out a sigh.  "I need to clean up."

He practically ran out of the room and if Derek wasn't so tired and still trying to heal he would have at least chuckled.  Instead, he made himself comfortable and by the time Stiles climbed in beside him he was already asleep.

It was several days before Derek felt like himself again.  Alpha wounds were always much harder to heal and even though Ethan hadn't been his Alpha, he'd still been an Alpha.  Stiles hovered the entire time.  He disguised it, or tried to, under the pretense of sitting at his desk and doing homework or college prep or something.  But he was hovering, chewing his nails, casting worried glances at Derek and reassuring his Dad that Derek would be fine.  Derek knew he was mostly reassuring himself.

On the fourth day, Derek finally had the energy to get out of the bed and head downstairs.  He found the Sheriff sitting at the table drinking coffee and reading the newspaper.  He stopped in the doorway, unsure whether to go back to bed and hide or go in and join him.

The Sheriff moved the paper so he could look over the top of it.  "Feeling better?"

Silently, Derek nodded.

"Sit down."  The Sheriff jerked his head toward the empty chair.  "Stiles figured you'd be up and about today.  He left some breakfast for you.  I was keeping it warm in the oven."

He set the paper down and got up, pulling the plate out of the oven and sliding it in front of Derek.  "Juice, milk, or coffee?"

"Juice please," Derek replied, his voice scratchy from disuse.

He waited until a glass of orange juice was placed in front of him.

"Well go on.  You're lucky.  Those are real eggs, not that fake liquid crap he makes me eat.  He must really like you."

Derek almost choked on the juice.  He put the glass down and wiped his mouth with a napkin.  "Um –"

"It's okay.  I've known for a while.  Hard not to, kid wears his heart on his sleeve.  I couldn't pinpoint exactly when he stopped pining after that Martin girl, but I'd say it was about two years ago?  A few months after well, you know, she almost died," he waved his hand.  "Anyway, they became friends after that and I noticed his attention was focused elsewhere.  Not to mention all the late night visits to his bedroom that you made."

Choking on his eggs, Derek grabbed his juice and took a sip.  "About that, sir –"

"Don't worry.  It all makes sense now, with the whole werewolf thing.  But I need to ask, about Stiles, the two of you…"

"I would do anything for him," Derek said quietly.

The Sheriff pinned him with a gaze and Derek fought every instinct inside himself to remain still, to meet that gaze, one that was far more serious and intimidating than any Alpha's he'd ever seen outside of his own father.  "Do you love him?"

"I would die for him."

"You dying wouldn't make him happy though," the Sheriff replied dryly, pointedly looking at Derek's abdomen. 

Derek dropped a hand to his belly protectively.  "They wanted him, I wasn't about to let that happen.  I'll do my best to keep him safe, make him happy."

"That's all I ask.  And about the safe part?  I appreciate it; I know just how hard a job that is."

The laugh that burst out of Derek was a surprise for both of them but within a few seconds the Sheriff joined him and the tension eased out of Derek's body.  When it finally died down, the Sheriff spoke again.  "Just try to keep yourself safe as well.  And don't give me that whole 'I'm the Alpha' bullshit.  I'm a cop, I know about keeping safe.  Just remember you have someone to come home to, or, you know…"

He looked down at his paper and Derek stared at his plate for a few long moments.  "Thank you," he whispered, unable to meet the Sheriff's gaze.

"You're welcome.  Now eat up before your food gets cold."

Derek cleaned up his plate and drank all his juice.  He took his plate and glass over to the sink.  When he finished rinsing them and bent over to put them in the dishwasher, the Sheriff folded his paper and rose.  He came over and clapped Derek on the back.  "I'm proud of you.  You're doing great things with that pack of yours and I'm sure your mother and father would be proud as well.  I have a rare double shift this afternoon and tonight so the house is yours."

He stopped for a moment, rubbing the back of his head with his hand, the gesture achingly familiar because Derek has seen Stiles do the exact same thing so many times. 

"Just – I don't know, take care of his heart, it's fragile.  Let him love you.  Don't deny yourself that, you've punished yourself enough."

The Sheriff's hand squeezed Derek's shoulder before he let go and left the kitchen, leaving Derek behind with a lump in his throat, tears burning behind his eyes, and claws digging holes into the palms of his hands.

It didn't take him long to figure out what he needed to do, and once he did time couldn't fly fast enough until Stiles came home. So Derek spent it restlessly, shifting between doing little things around the house and resting on the couch. He sent a group text to his pack, letting them know he was better and after one final night with Stiles, he'd be back at the house the following day.

When it finally got closer to the time when Stiles would be getting out of school and coming home, Derek went upstairs, making sure everything was how he needed it.  Satisfied, he took off his shirt, knelt in the middle of the floor, head down, eyes down, and he waited. 

At first the silence was welcome, but as time seemed to drag, it started to weigh heavily on him.  He needed Stiles' mindless chatter, just his presence, anything to keep the silence from feeling so oppressive.  He guessed it was his Alpha's nature to fight the submission until the reason for it finally appeared. It made him fidgety and anxious until he heard the Jeep coming down the road.

Taking a deep breath in, he concentrated and there it was, the rhythmic sound of Stiles' heartbeat.  It was the sound that had pulled him out of the abyss and now it chased away the repressive silence. The engine shut off and he heard Stiles making his way through the leaves to the front door.  He stifled a laugh when he heard Stiles swear when he dropped the keys. 

"Derek?"  Stiles called out tentatively, when he managed to get into the house and close the door behind him. 

Peace settled over Derek when he heard Stiles' footfalls on the stairs, could smell the tangy mixture of sage, lemongrass and sweat that was pure Stiles.  The wolf inside him was pawing and whining and practically prancing with joy, as well as the desire to roll over and bare its belly.  Derek should have seen this coming, should have known all along because his wolf only did this for Stiles.  He'd spent so long ignoring it and repressing it, but no more.

The door opened and Stiles stopped.  Derek could smell the cookie that was half chewed.

"Derek?"  Stiles asked, uncertainty in his voice as his bag slid off his shoulder and landed on the floor just inside the door.

Derek didn't answer, if he was truly trying to show Stiles he could submit to him, then he needed Stiles' permission to speak.

"Jesus, Derek," Stiles muttered, closing the door. 

He made some movement with his hand, Derek could hear it, he suspected Stiles was rubbing a hand across his face as his mind frantically tried to catch up with what was happening.  "Okay, okay, okay," and this time Derek heard Stiles rubbing his hands together and could see him nervously shifting his weight from foot to foot. 

Then the movement stopped and something changed in the room, the atmosphere went hot and heavy in an instant.  Confidently, Stiles stepped forward and he placed a hand on the back of Derek's neck.  "Good boy.  You look so beautiful here, kneeling, waiting for me to get home."

The words were right, exactly what Derek wanted needed --to hear, but he could hear the cracks in Stiles' voice.  They gave him away.  He knew precisely how important this was, just what it meant that Derek had gone to his knees for him and Derek suspected he was just the right side of freaking out.  He wondered how long it would be before Stiles broke the role and just started to babble.

About thirty seconds.

"Jesus, Derek, you have no idea how good you look.  I mean, fuck.  I'm so glad you didn't do this for the Alphas.  They don't deserve this.  I don't deserve this.  I should be the one on my knees for you, not the other way around.  The idea of you doing this for anyone, it just, you shouldn't.  You're too good for that.  Not that you're perfect.  You're not.  I mean, seriously, Jackson?  I'm still pissed about that, you know.  The biggest douchebag in the class?"

Derek could see Stiles pacing in front of him, tried to focus on his words, but Stiles' voice had a tendency to make him sink into a place he'd never cared to examine before.  A place where he felt safe, cared for, loved.  He leaned into the press of Stiles' hand; it had drifted up into his hair, tugging it a bit.

"Plus, there's the fact that you rarely tell me anything.  Well, okay, not rarely, you've gotten better about it.  But like with the Alpha's, why didn’t you tell me that's what they were going to want me for?  Jesus that would have been useful information.  Help a bro out, dude."

"Don’t call me dude."  The words were out of Derek's mouth before he could stop them.

Stiles' hand tightened in his hair and Derek's shoulders slumped.  He hoped Stiles wasn’t too disappointed in him.  The fingers loosened and soothed his scalp, scratching lightly.

"Not your turn to talk, Sourwolf.  Let me finish.  Poor communication skills aside, um, I think, shit, I think you're awesome okay?  You've taken a rag tag group of misfit teens and turned them into a family.  Nobody had a place and you gave us one, made us care about each other, take care of each other.  And we are a well-oiled Alpha fighting machine, I might add.  You know, seeing as how we've kicked Alpha ass twice now."

He stuttered to a stop and Derek reached up and grabbed his hand.  Stiles squeezed it and the emotions Stiles was putting off were overpowering.  Rage, grief, regret, fear, all of it, pouring off him in waves.  The need to do something, to comfort, to protect couldn't be ignored.  A whine slipped out of Derek's throat and it must have startled Stiles because he ended up sitting on the bed.

Derek moved until he was kneeling between Stiles' legs.  Stiles' hands threaded through his hair and Derek laid his head down on Stiles' leg.  He closed his eyes as Stiles' stroked his head, the gesture calming and familiar.  Derek lost track of time, had no idea how long they stayed like that, his head in Stiles' lap and Stiles' fingers running through his hair. 

"I know why you did this, what it means." 

Stiles' voice shattered the silence, broke the spell that had settled over them.  However, his fingers kept moving in the same slow pace, scratching at Derek's scalp, soothing the tension that had arisen from Stiles' speaking. 

"I researched.  On the internet, after the thing with the Alphas, you know, while you were getting better."

Derek let out a small snort against Stiles' thigh, because of course Stiles researched submission on the internet.

"Hey!" his fingers pulled a bit at Derek's hair, stifling the snort and sending arousal zinging through Derek's blood until it settled in his dick.  "I am the master at Google-Fu and don't you forget it."

His fingers let go and went back to stroking Derek's hair, but the burn had been started and this time it would consume both of them.

"I know that it takes real strength to submit and I know that an Alpha would only submit for a worthy pack member, never to, but yet here you are, submitting to me, on your knees for me."

He paused and Derek heard him swallow, could hear the increase in his heartbeat and his breathing, could smell the anxiousness. 

"I don't want to fuck this up.  This is big, Derek, so big, I can't.  I'm not cut out for this.  But Jesus, you getting on your knees for me, that's – that's huge.  I want you to know I understand, I get why you did it, what it meant for you to do it and wow, I, thank you for giving that to me.  Thank you."

He bent over and Derek felt lips press to the side of his head and all he could feel was content.

"Okay.  Up, because I don't know how long you've been here but that cannot be good for your knees.  And as you probably know, this isn't me.  I'd rather have you up on the bed with me then kneeling at my feet.  Not to mention your eyes, despite how intense you can be and how it makes even me look away sometimes, I want you looking at me and not the floor.  Besides, I'm way more attractive than the floor, I mean, it's some old seventies stuff from when my parents bought the house, it's not that interesting, well, you know, unless you've been shrunk down to the size of an ant and then ew, I don't even want to know what's trapped down there."

This time Derek didn't even bother to stifle his grin or the chuckle he let escape.  Gracefully, he rolled up to his feet and couldn't help but smirk at the expression on Stiles' face.  His mouth was slack and he had this astonished look in his eyes.

"How –" he waved his hand at Derek, "how do you make that look so effortless?  I mean if I did that?  There would be flailing limbs and turned over furniture and probably blood."

"I guess we'll have to see, won't we?" Derek asked.

Stiles' eyes went wide and Derek heard him swallow again.  He could smell the spike of arousal and feel the increase of heat coming from Stiles' skin.

"You said something about the bed?"

"Yes.  Yes, I did.  Bed.  There is a bed, a very nice bed, of which I am sitting on right now, we should –"


"Right.  Um.  Bed.  I should, um, get undressed.   I'll just be right back."

Derek rolled his eyes and reached out, grabbing Stiles by the wrist.  He manhandled him out of his shirt, steadied him as he toed off his sneakers, and dragged his jeans down his hips.  He removed his own jeans and pulled back the covers.  Then with only a bit of maneuvering, Derek had Stiles spooned in front of him.

Stiles fidgeted and babbled endlessly until Derek wrapped an arm around his chest and draped a leg over his thighs, trapping him in.  "Go to sleep Stiles."  He kissed the side of Stiles' head and within a few minutes, the even deep breaths Derek heard, told him that Stiles had finally listened to him and done as he’d said.  He closed his eyes and let the rhythmic sound of Stiles' heart ease him into sleep as well.

About two weeks later, Derek was hosting pack movie night at his house.  They'd had a family barbecue out in the backyard just like his parents used to, including Allison's Dad, Scott's mom, and the Sheriff.  Once the parents left it was just his pack and that suited Derek just fine.  It was always easier once the parents were gone.  Everyone always felt like they had to be on their best behavior until they took off, and then it was like the entire pack breathed a collective sigh of relief.   

He stood behind the couch, watching.  Erica and Boyd were curled up together on the floor in front of Stiles with Isaac pressed up against Erica's back.  Danny was right beside him, his arm snug and possessive around Isaac's waist.  Scott and Allison were cuddled up in one of the recliners while Jackson and Lydia were in the other.  Stiles sat by himself on the couch, knees drawn up underneath him, arms hugging the pillow he was resting his chin on.  The scene was so domestic; it made Derek's heart feel like it was bursting in his chest. 

The empty spot on the couch next to Stiles was Derek-sized and he was going to plant himself there, but he wanted to bask for just a moment.  So he stood there watching, listening as Captain Tightpants made some quip onscreen.  Stiles tilted his head back to look at him. 

"You gonna watch the movie or just stand there watching us like a big creeper?"

Derek rolled his eyes but let out a low chuckle.  "I was just enjoying the moment."

Understanding showed in Stiles' eyes and he waved his hand.  "Well, enjoy away."

Peace swept over Derek as he stood watching his pack.  The Alpha pack was gone, word had gotten out that the Hale pack was not to be messed with, the parents were mostly accepting, and everyone was happy.  It was almost too good to be true.  He directed his attention to Stiles and knew there was just one final thing that would make both of them happy, but it had to be on Stiles' terms and it would happen when it happened.  For now, the pack was content so Derek was content and that was all that mattered.

He laid a hand on the back of Stiles' neck, stroking it softly before moving around to sit beside him on the couch.  It was just a simple touch, innocent, reassuring, but he could smell the change in the air.  Stiles shifted uncomfortably on the couch, started chewing on his thumb.  Derek could smell his anxiety ratcheting up.  He stretched his arm over the back of the couch, resting his hand back on Stiles' neck again and almost immediately, Stiles calmed down.  He stopped fidgeting, stopped chewing his nail, and focused his attention back on the movie.

Something in Derek stilled as well, like puzzle pieces slotting into place.  It made his heart feel too full, too something, made him feel things he hadn't felt since the fire.  His thumb continued stroking the skin on Stiles' neck until Stiles slid over and leaned against him.  Then he dropped his arm around Stiles' shoulders, and he could feel the contentment wrapping around Stiles like a blanket.  Stiles settled back against his arm, his head resting on Derek's shoulder. 

Derek tightened his hold, rubbing his thumb over Stiles' shoulder now.  Scott turned around and attempted to give him a glare, but Allison dug her elbow into his side and he seemed to let it go.  He glanced over at Lydia to see a smile spreading across her face.  He should be annoyed that his pack was picking up on things like his feelings for Stiles and vice versa, but honestly, if they approved, it made things so much easier.

Erica flicked her hair over her shoulder, slyly shooting him a look along with it.  He glared back at her and she rolled her eyes, winking at him before returning her attention to the movie.  Stiles must have noticed because he started chewing on his thumb again.  Derek stopped rubbing his shoulder and tightened his grip instead.  Stile flicked a glance up at him and dropped his hand back into his lap, shifted his hips a bit, and went back to watching the movie.

The wolf in Derek was pleased that Stiles was following Derek's nonverbal cues and subtle orders.  It sent sparks of arousal through his body and made him spread his legs wider, trying to give himself more room.  The movement made Stiles' breath catch in his throat and his heart start to race.  It wasn't long before Derek could smell Stiles' arousal in the air.  This meant everyone else could as well.

Lydia slapped Jackson's thigh.  "Well, I'm tired.  Let's go Jackson."

"But, we were watching –"

"You've seen it.  And if you really want it that badly I have a copy.  Let's go."

It amused Derek that Jackson was so easily cowed by Lydia and he bit back a smile as Jackson reluctantly got up to follow her out.  She kicked lightly at Isaac, Erica, and Boyd, fist bumped Allison, and bent down and kissed the top of Stiles' head, whispering into his ear.  Derek purposely didn't listen to what she said.

Right after that, Allison said she'd better head home as well, make sure her Dad wasn't down in the basement just shooting his guns all night.  Scott of course went with her, shooting Derek another glare which he pointedly ignored.

Erica, Boyd, and Isaac stayed until the credits started and then Erica pulled the two boys up and demanded they take her for some food somewhere.  Boyd grumbled but Isaac punched him in the shoulder and jerked his head toward Stiles and Derek.  Boyd's eyes widened in understanding and within seconds Derek and Stiles were alone.  Stiles got up to pop the DVD out and then stood in the middle of the room, holding the case, his eyes on the floor.

Derek could tell he was thinking about something, could practically hear the wheels in his head turning.  He knew Stiles well enough by now that if he waited long enough, Stiles wouldn't be able to keep it all inside and whatever he was thinking would just come spilling out of him in some sort of word vomit.  So, Derek remained on the couch, his leg crossed over his knee, his arm still slung over the back where Stiles had been seated.      

"I-" Stiles started and then stopped.  "We –" he started again.  "It's just –"

Derek didn't say anything just sat there, waiting.

"Jesus," Stiles sighed.  "You just, they, I was, fuck."

He tossed the DVD case into the recliner and without even giving Derek a glance, he sank to his knees, head bowed down, eyes on the floor.  "Please," he whispered.

Derek stood up and walked over to him slowly until he was standing right in front of him.  He reached down and cupped Stiles' chin with his hand, tilting his head up.  When Stiles amber eyes met his, Derek let a small smile grace his face.  "Good boy," he said softly, bending down to kiss Stiles on the lips.

It was meant to be a chaste kiss, just a quick press of his lips before he pulled Stiles back to his feet, but Stiles opened right under him and he couldn't help but take a quick taste.  He cupped the back of Stiles' head and swept his tongue into his mouth, sliding their tongues together before pulling apart.  Before anything else happened they needed to talk and he wasn't going to do that with Stiles on his knees. 

"Come on," he said softly, wrapping his hand gently around Stiles' bicep and pulling him up and over to the couch.  When they were seated again, Derek manhandled Stiles until he was tucked under Derek's arm and resting against his side.

"I don't know why I did that," Stiles broke the silence, chewing on his thumb nail.

Derek grabbed his hand and threaded their fingers together.  Again, he waited for Stiles to work his thoughts out.

"It just felt right.  I mean, ever since that thing with the Alpha pack, I've been thinking about this and doing a shit ton of Googling and figuring things out.  And wow, some of that stuff, you know, I actually wish there was such a thing as brain bleach because damn, some of the things I saw I will never get out of my head.  I don't even want to go into it because –"


"Right, right, sorry.  Um, where was I?   Oh right, researching.  I researched the whole submission thing and what it means in a wolf pack and what it means in human terms and um –" he turned in Derek's embrace to look at him.  "I'm really glad you didn't submit to the Alphas because that isn't you.  It isn't.  And submitting to me, I don't know, I mean, I could, you know, if you wanted me to, but not like all the time, y'know?  I mean, if you wanted something like that, I would totally do it for you but you don't seem like someone that goes to their knees easily."

"I don't."

 Stiles turned back, settling against his side again.  "Didn't think so.  I mean, that one time you did, Jesus Derek that was powerful.  You have no idea how much it meant to me that you did that."

He turned again, completely this time, drawing one of his legs up onto the couch, his knee touching the back of it.  "That you would do that for me, a lowly human –"

A growl escaped from Derek and he turned to face Stiles, mirroring his position so he could drop his free hand onto Stiles' ankle and squeeze.

"Okay, a human, who's barely even part of your pack –" He was interrupted by another growl and Derek's hand tightened on his ankle.

"You are pack, or you wouldn't be here right now."

Stiles went silent and Derek could see that he was processing that information.  He opened and shut his mouth several times, frowning in frustration.  Derek stroked his thumb over Stiles' ankle bone.  "Take your time."

He dropped his other hand off the back of the couch and stroked a finger lightly down Stiles' cheek, who closed his eyes and pushed into his touch.

"See?"  Stiles' eyes snapped open, his look an accusation.  "Why did I do that?"

"Instinct.  What does yours tell you?"

"That you're safe and to let you take care of me."


"Not to back down and to challenge you when you're being an idiot."

"Okay.  Why can't you do both?  You researched submitting so I'm sure you understand you're the one with all the power then, right?"

Stiles nodded.

"Do you want that then?  Both?"


"Then you need a safe word and we need to set some boundaries."

He heard Stiles gulp, but he still nodded.  "Yeah, okay.  I knew that from the research.  I already picked one out.  It's jasmine."

Derek cocked an eyebrow and Stiles flushed.  "It was my mom's favorite scent.   I'll never forget it and it's not something I'll randomly blurt out," he paused. 

Biting back an amused smile, Derek watched as Stiles went even redder.

"I won't be saying it during sex unless I need you to stop."

"I don't want this to be a lifestyle thing.  I'm the Alpha."

"Yeah, I get what you mean.  You don't need this 24/7 because you're already living it, what with bossing the pups around all the time.  You just need a safe place, space," Stiles waved his hand trying to figure out the right words.  "Somewhere you know you'll be obeyed completely without Scott or any of the others questioning your judgment.  And I need a place where I can just let go and not think."

"Exactly.  And sex doesn’t necessarily have to be a part of it.  It could just be the two of us finding a safe quiet space together."

"But you want it though, sex I mean?"  Stiles asked.

"I do, but I can live without it being part of a scene."

"What – what if I want it?" Stiles asked quietly, looking down at his lap.

Derek could tell from the way he was fidgeting that if he wasn't holding Stiles' hand he would be chewing on his thumbnail.  That was a habit Derek intended to break him of, at least in particular circumstances. 

"Then it becomes part of our boundary discussion, just how far we want to take things."

Stiles went quiet and still for several long minutes, something Derek never thought possible, but then Stiles always managed to surprise him somehow. 

"Can we, I don't know, is there such a thing as taking this slow?"

"There's no right or wrong, no hard and fast rules, it's what we make of it."

The tension eased out of Stiles right before his eyes.  So Derek stood up, stretching his hand out.  "Come on."

Stiles took his hand and Derek led him up the stairs to his bedroom.  They stopped in the doorway and Derek glanced over at him.  "Stiles?"

With a squeeze to Derek's hand and a quick nod Stiles answered him. "Yeah.  Yeah."

Then in a move that shocked Derek to his core, Stiles let go of his hand, walked into the center of the room, and dropped right down to his knees again.  He could hear Stiles' heart pounding and was afraid it was going to beat right out of his chest.  There was another rhythm matching it and it took Derek several seconds to figure out it was his own.

He walked into the room and casually stripped off his t-shirt, his back to Stiles.  The scent of arousal spiked and Derek could hear Stiles' heart stutter in his chest.  Right before he turned around, Derek caught the whimper that slipped out.  He schooled his features, tamped down on the smile that was threatening to break out all over the place and turned to Stiles with his grump face as Stiles called it.

Slowly, he walked in a circle around Stiles.  "First rule," he said softly, with just a hint of a growl.  "Don't ever call me good boy.  I'm not a dog."  He ran his finger down the back of Stiles' neck and smiled when Stiles shivered.  It was just a light teasing touch and Stiles bent his neck forward, giving him more access.

"Second rule.  When we're here, like this?  I'm in control.  By doing this you agree to submit.  Out there, when it's pack?  You can challenge me just like you always do, but not here.  Understand?"

Satisfaction spread through him when Stiles nodded silently in assent.  But he knew he needed to make a point, needed to make sure they were on the same page.  He threaded his fingers through the hair on the back of Stiles' head, grateful that he'd stopped getting a buzz cut.  Curling a hand into his fist, he pulled; tilting Stiles' head back until their eyes locked.

"Are we clear?"

"Y-yes," Stiles stuttered.

Derek could hear his heart racing and he smelled the blood rising to the surface of Stiles' cheeks before he saw it.  Looking at Stiles thoughtfully, he quirked his eyebrow up.

"Yes, sir."

"Good boy."  Derek could smell the pride in the air, coming off both of them, but Stiles wasn't one to be able to sit still and control it.  He let go of Stiles' hair. Stiles fidgeted and Derek knew he couldn't help it, or at the very least wasn't making every effort to control it.

"Stiles," he growled softly and Stiles stilled immediately.  Reaching down, he rested his hand on the back of Stiles' neck and the smell of arousal grew thick and heavy again.

When Stiles was calm again, Derek let go of his neck and walked around to the front of him.  He cupped his hand under Stiles' chin just like he had earlier and tilted his head until they were looking eye to eye.  Studying Stiles' eyes until he was sure of what he saw, he leaned forward and kissed him, and just like before, Stiles opened right up to the pressure of his tongue.  Derek slid his hand around holding on to the back his head, exploring Stiles' mouth and memorizing his taste. 

When Stiles moaned into his mouth, Derek broke the kiss and pulled back.  Stiles frowned in disappointment but made no move to verbally protest or physically follow him.  It pleased the Alpha in Derek so much that he had to hold back from just giving in right then and taking Stiles to bed.

Instead, he stood up and stared down at Stiles.  "Take your shirt off."

Immediately, Stiles grabbed the waistband of his shirt and pulled it over his head.  Derek held his hand out and Stiles gave it to him before resuming his previous position.  Knowing how finicky Stiles could be, Derek took the extra few seconds to fold the shirt and lay it down in the chair by the door before returning to his inspection of Stiles. 

It was a test really, to see just how long Stiles would let himself be stared at before he either said something or started moving uncontrollably.  Derek gave him about one minute.

Stiles lasted five.

At first it was just a twitch of his hand, and then it was both feet, and then Stiles whole body was practically vibrating.  Before Stiles had the chance to speak though, Derek's hand was on the back of his neck, firm and comforting and all the vibrations stopped.  This time it was Derek's heart that ricocheted through his chest because for him to have that much power was overwhelming, more than when he'd accepted his role of Alpha.  Something about this went much deeper than that.

"Breathe with me Stiles," Derek said softly, sitting down behind Stiles, pulling him off his knees and drawing him up against Derek's chest, legs stretched out in front of them.  "Close your eyes and just breathe with me."

They sat until Stiles' breathing matched Derek's own and the whole time Derek just ran his fingers lightly up and down Stiles' arms, one finger at a time.  When their breathing was synced, Derek let go of Stiles' right arm and placed his hand right over Stiles' heart.  He held it there until Stiles calmed back into their rhythm again and then he started rubbing, up and down, side to side, fingers grazing Stiles' nipples on each pass. 

When they were both peaked and pinkish, Derek pinched the right one and Stiles' gasped, arching into his touch.  "Please," he whispered.  "More."

Kissing the outer edge of Stiles' ear, nibbling at it with his teeth, Derek ghosted his voice over the sensitive skin.  "Because you begged so nicely."

Wasting no time, he switched nipples and pinched the other one and Stiles cried out, hands gripping Derek's thighs and blunt nails digging in, trying to find an anchor.  Derek bit Stiles' ear and then dropped his mouth down right over his pulse and sucked the skin in between his teeth.  "Mine," he growled softly, emphasizing his words with another quick pinch to each of Stiles' nipples.

Stiles reached up and wrapped a hand around the back of Derek's neck, pulling him down as he turned and tilted his head up.  "Yours," he breathed out before crushing their mouths together.

He licked at the seam of Derek's mouth, seeking entrance and Derek granted it to him, loving the slide of Stiles' tongue against his own.  Stiles explored his mouth and he scratched his nails lightly over Stiles' chest, swallowing every needy sound Stiles let escape.  Then he remembered what this was about and let the kiss end, turning Stiles away from him again as he sat, pulling Stiles back in between his legs and against his chest.  Derek reached for the fly in Stiles' jeans, and Stiles stretched out a hand to help only to have it batted away. "Let me."

"Okay," Stiles mumbled, grabbing at Derek's thighs again.

Deftly, Derek popped the button and slid the zipper down, parting Stiles' jeans into a v-shape.  The scent of Stiles' arousal filled the room and Derek rubbed a finger over the wet spot he could feel on the front of Stiles' boxers.

"Jesus, don't tease me," Stiles pleaded. 

Derek just licked a stripe along the back of his neck before sinking his teeth in gently.  He smiled when he felt Stiles spread his thighs a bit more, giving Derek more than enough room to have his way.  Derek cupped Stiles' erection through his boxers, the metal teeth of the zipper biting into the back of his hand.  He shoved at the stiff fabric and Stiles got the hint, lifting his hips until his jeans were down around mid-thigh.

Reaching into the opening at the front of Stiles' boxers, Derek pulled his cock out, rubbing his finger over the tip and spreading the leaking pre-come around.  He lifted his hand to his own face, and licked his finger, closing his eyes at the salty flavor of pure Stiles. 

"Bastard," Stiles muttered and Derek grabbed the base of Stiles' cock with his free hand and squeezed.

A thrust of Stiles' hips into his hand was his reward and he chuckled softly.

"Yes," Stiles hissed.  "More please."

Derek kissed the side of his head and started stroking his cock, a loose up and down motion not intended to get Stiles off anytime soon.  He started thrusting into Derek's fist, seeking the friction Derek knew he needed but was denying him.

"Just let me," Derek whispered into Stiles' ear.  "I'll get you there.  Just let me."

Slowly, Stiles stopped thrusting and dug his nails into Derek's thighs again.  "Okay, okay, just please, you're killing me here."

Unable to restrain his laughter, Derek buried his face in the back of Stiles' hair because that was just like Stiles.  He tightened his grip and swiped his thumb over the head on the upstroke and heard the hitch in Stiles' breath, and the way his heart sped up.  "That's what you like," he murmured, and kissed his way down Stiles' neck while he continued to stroke him just so.

He reached down and cupped Stiles' balls with his free hand, gently rolling them between his palm and his fingers before stretching a finger back and pressing lightly on the skin behind Stiles' balls.  Stiles' thighs went taut and he started begging.

"Jesus, fuck, Derek, please, I'm begging you."

"What do you want Stiles, you have to tell me."

"I wanna come, please."

Derek sped up his strokes, tightened his fist, and pressed just a tiny bit harder on that little patch of skin right behind Stiles' balls.  "Then come," he growled.

The sound that came out of Stiles' mouth was like nothing Derek had ever heard before.  If he hadn't known better he would have thought it was pain, but Stiles was shooting warm sticky liquid all over Derek's hand and his nails were dug into Derek's thighs.  If he were fully human, there would have been bruises left behind.

Derek could smell the pure unadulterated pleasure and relief pouring off Stiles and his wolf was pleased.  He stroked Stiles through his orgasm until he was lying limp and spent against Derek's chest.  He brought his come-drenched hand up to his mouth and licked most of it off before settling it back down on Stiles' chest, rubbing lightly.

Shifting his position a bit, he grimaced.  Stiles was lying right over Derek's erection and it was pressing painfully against the zipper of his jeans.    

"You, you didn't…" Stiles said, turning in Derek's arms.

He bent his head down and kissed Stiles on the forehead.  "Nope.  This was all about you."

"But you –"

"Stiles," Derek growled again.

Stiles slumped in his arms.  "I wanted to –"

"Next time," Derek kissed his cheek.  "Come on, let's get you cleaned up and into bed.  You need your sleep."

"M'not tired."  His jaw cracked as he let out a big yawn.

"Right."  Derek said dryly.  "Come on, up."

Stiles used Derek's thighs for leverage and stood up on wobbly legs.  He pulled his pants up with one hand and Derek had his hand wrapped around the bicep of the other arm.  Guiding him across the room and toward the bathroom, Stiles protested.  "You know, I can do this myself."

"Yup, but remember, this is about me taking care of you.  Aftercare is part of it, probably the most important part."

Once inside the bathroom, Derek slowly peeled Stiles' clothes off and turned on the water in the shower.  When it reached the temperature he deemed appropriate, he put Stiles in under the stream and stripped out of his own clothes before he climbed in behind Stiles.  Derek grabbed the shampoo, poured some into his hand and set the bottle down.

"Turn around."

Stiles obeyed and Derek started massaging the shampoo into his hair.  "I like your hair longer like this."

"Huh, I was thinking about getting it buzzed again."

"Don't."  Derek dug his nails into Stiles' scalp. 


"Good."  He continued working the shampoo into Stiles hair, threading his fingers through the dark strands and massaging the skin on Stiles' scalp.  He dragged his thumbs down Stiles' neck, working out the stiff muscles and pressing against the marks he'd left behind. Like a cat, Stiles pushed back into the pressure of his fingers.

Derek grabbed the soap and worked up a lather before working it into Stiles' skin.  Massaging the muscles of his back, working his way down each arm, and in between each finger.  Expertly he stroked down Stiles' legs, tapping each foot so he could clean between toes.  With long even strokes he worked the thigh muscles, finally finding his way back up to Stiles' ass. 

He could hear Stiles' heart speed up as he rubbed over the muscles in Stiles' ass, dipping into the cleft between his cheeks, teasing at his hole.  Derek could feel the muscle flutter under his finger but he didn't push in, didn't want to hurt Stiles and soap burned.  But oh how he wanted to. 

Fingers wrapped around his wrist, holding his hand in place.  "Please," Stiles whispered raggedly. 

Instead, Derek reached around and found Stiles' cock already hard and leaking again.  He grinned, pressing his face into the space between Stiles' shoulder blades.  Quickly, he stroked, kissing a trail up to the back of Stiles' neck, sucking on the mark he'd made earlier, darkening it to a light shade of purple. 

A hand slapped up against the tile as Stiles braced himself, spreading his legs.  Quickening his strokes, Derek mouthed along Stiles' neck until he got to the spot right over his pulse.  "Come for me, Stiles, come right now," and he bit down.

Stiles howled out his release, the sound echoing off the ceramic tiles and his hand curling into a fist, scrabbling against the water-slicked surface.  Derek wrapped his free hand around Stiles' waist, held him up and stroked him through his orgasm.  "That's it, that's it," he whispered, trailing kisses all along Stiles back and shoulders.

Fast and efficient, Derek finished getting Stiles clean and dried him off thoroughly before bundling him back toward bedroom and into the bed, towel still wrapped around his waist.  He barely made a sound when Derek left to go back into the bathroom to take care of himself. 

Carefully he shut the door and looked at himself in the mirror.  His cock was still standing, red, hard, and leaking.  He moved over to the toilet and rested a hand on the wall, wrapping his right hand around his cock.  His strokes were rough and quick, just the way he liked them, his pre-come the only lubricant used to smooth the way.  The rough drag from the calluses on his hand against the velvety smooth skin of his cock, gave him just that little hint of pain with his pleasure. Derek could already feel his balls drawing up, getting ready to shoot.

He conjured up an image of Stiles on his knees, looking up at him, amber eyes dark with passion, and pink lips wrapped around his cock. That was all it took.  He grunted as he shot his load into the toilet.  His head hung as Derek panted heavily, and waited for his own heart rate to return to normal.

"Derek?" Stiles called out from the bedroom.

Hurriedly, Derek cleaned himself off, washed his hands and strode back out into the bedroom to find Stiles pouting on his bed.

"You got yourself off without me."

"I told you, this time was all about you," Derek scolded as he slid into the bed beside Stiles and pulled him into his arms.

He shoved and pushed and pulled until Stiles was resting his head on Derek's chest and tucked up against his side under his arm.  Derek trailed his fingers up and down the skin of Stiles' upper arm. 

"Are you always gonna be this bossy?" Stiles complained.

Derek just laughed.  "Hey, you agreed to this," he smacked his hand lightly on Stiles' arm.


Rolling his eyes, Derek rubbed gently over the spot.  "Did you enjoy it?"

"What do you think?"

This time Derek pinched his arm.

"Hey!" Stiles reached up to rub at the sore spot only to have Derek smack his hand away and rub it himself. 

"Still want to do this?"

Immediately, Stiles pushed himself up onto his elbows and looked at Derek in confusion.  "Um, yes?  Unless you don't want to?"

With a smirk, Derek manhandled him back into place where he wanted him.  "Then expect me to be bossy."

"Fine," Stiles retorted.  He settled back down and after a brief moment, he turned his head and kissed Derek's chest.  "I just wanted to make you feel as good as you made me feel.  That's all."

Bending down and kissing Stiles' head, Derek tightened his hold.  "Don't worry, you will.  Sleep Stiles."

Of course that would be the calm before the storm.  It was only two weeks later when a storm swept into town bringing a mermaid along in its wake.  Unfortunately, it wasn't the Disney Ariel kind of mermaid, it was more the breed that mated and bit off your head, similar-to-a-black-widow type.  And she had her sights set on Derek.  Derek was stupid and determined enough to set himself up as bait, and he informed everyone of such at the pack meeting he'd called to discuss dealing with her.

"No." Stiles said emphatically, crossing his arms and glaring at Derek.  "No.  You are not putting yourself out there as bait."

"It's a plan."

"Yes, it's a plan.  It's a stupid-ass plan which is why we're going to ignore it and do something else.  I can't believe you would even suggest that!"  He shot Derek another death glare.  "We're not doing it."

"Yes, we are."

"No, we're not.  Just give me a minute, I'm sure I can come up with something better than using the Alpha as bait.  I mean, seriously?  Is that the best you could come up with?"

Stiles shook his head, muttering to himself as he started to pace.  Everyone watched in silence.  This was a frequent occurrence and it was usually best to stay out of the way until things came to a head and one of them came out on top.  It was always a toss up as to who would win. 

"We're doing it my way and that's final," Derek growled.

Stiles stopped his pacing and whirled around on Derek.  "So what, that's it?  You're the Alpha so your say goes?"


"Even when your say is stupid and going to get you killed?  Way to lead bro, way to lead.  Just give me a damn minute without you throwing your Alpha weight around so I can think about this and come up with a better plan.  You know, one that doesn't involve you as bait and, you know, dying."

The silence following Stiles' rant grew heavy in the room as everyone watched with baited breath while he paced.  Suddenly he snapped his fingers.  "I've got it.  And it doesn't involve any of us as bait, well, okay, maybe –"

"No!" Derek growled.  "If I can't be bait, neither can you."

"I didn't say I was bait.  Would you let me outline the plan?"

Huffing out a sigh, Derek crossed his arms and leaned back against the door jam.  "Go ahead, I'm listening."

"We should lead her back to my house."


Stiles glared at Derek.  "Would you let me finish?  Jesus Derek!  Plant some of my clothes, they smell like me, like us, she knows I'm the most vulnerable member of the pack, lead her back to my house, where all of you are waiting."

"How do we keep her from smelling us?"

"That stuff Deaton gave me the recipe to?  The anti-scent stuff that Jeremy was using on his replacement Alpha pack?  Use that."  Stiles rolled his eyes, obviously thinking the answer should have been self-explanatory.

Lydia stood up, crossing her arms.  "I like it."

Derek shot her a warning look, but she just kept talking.  "It's a good plan.  A solid plan.  If she can't smell any of you, she's going to go after the next best thing and we all know that's Stiles.  She won't go after Allison because she's a hunter and she won't go after me because she doesn't want me.  She wants Derek.  So the next best thing is Stiles.  His house is at the end of his street, it backs up into the woods, it's very defendable.  It's a good place to make a stand.  Not as good as here, but it'll do."

"I agree with Lydia," Scott said from the couch where he was sitting next to Allison.  "I don't like the idea of Stiles as bait, but he's not really, is he?  Just his clothes, I mean, he'll be at the house but with all of us there we can keep him safe."  He turned to look at Stiles.  "Can you make up enough of that anti-smelling stuff?"

"Definitely," Stiles nodded.

"Whataya say boss man?" Erica drawled.  "Seems like all the brains are together in this one."

A growl slipped through his lips as Derek felt his eyes flash red.  Erica barely reacted, just leaned back between Isaac and Boyd. 

"It's a good plan," Allison said softly.  "I can wear the stuff too and sit up in a tree with my crossbow.  Maybe even wound her before she gets to the house."

"See?"  Stiles looked at Derek.  "It's a good plan.  Way better than your 'let me sit on my ass oh and by the way it's a total trap for me and I will get my ass kicked' plan."

Derek let loose another growl but Stiles didn't even respond.  Just clapped his hands and kept talking.

"Okay, so, we're all on board with this plan," his eyes slyly looked over at Derek for confirmation.  Giving him an almost imperceptible nod, Derek let him continue.

"I'll get over to Deaton's and start working on making several buckets of that stuff," he held up his hand stemming any interruptions.  "Allison can go with me for protection.  When we're done, we'll bring it back here, douse you all in it and start working our way back to my house.  We should do it tonight, my dad's working a double."

"How are we going to get her to track you to your house?" Derek asked, still not happy with the plan.

"Once we get you all doused and ambushy at my house, Allison and I will plant my clothes and some of yours between here and my place. She knows where you live, she'll be able to follow my scent from here when she comes back and finds the place empty."

Grudgingly, Derek had to admit it was a good plan.  Of course there was no guarantee that she would show up again tonight, but given that she'd shown up the last three nights straight, it was a pretty good bet she would show up again tonight.

"Why do you think she hasn't just killed me yet?"

The look Stiles gave him was painfully familiar, it was the one that said 'I can't believe you don't get this but I'm going to explain it to you anyway.'

"I think she truly wants to mate with you, just like she said.  So she's wooing you, courting you so to speak.  Easier than trying to force you.  She's brought you gifts every night."

"You mean the tin foil and the hubcab and that reflector?  Those were gifts?"

"Yes," Stiles said in exasperation.  "Mermaids like shiny things.  So she found the shiniest things she could and gave them to you as gifts, as tokens of her love."

"But why?  If she's just going to kill me after?"

"I'm betting she thinks you don't know that, and between the gifts, her beauty and the fact that she's a freaking mermaid, you'll fall for her and by the time you realize her whole plan, it will be way too late."

"You're thinking she's planning on leaving another gift tonight."

"Yes.  Probably something bigger and more elaborate.  The first gift was the bicycle reflector, the second was the huge ball of tin foil and the third was the shiny new hub cab.  See?  Each one was bigger and shinier than the previous one."

"Wonder what she'll bring tonight," Derek mused.

"Who cares!  Let's just do this and put this bitch in the ground," Jackson snarled from across the room.

His outburst startled Derek and he realized they were wasting time.  "Okay.  I'll agree to this one time.  If it doesn't work, we're using my plan tomorrow night.  Um, how do we kill her?"

"Plain old violence," Stiles said, shrugging out of his hoodie.

"Good," Boyd said, cracking his knuckles.  "I could do with a bit of violence."

"All right, so Allison and I will go to Deaton's, you all stay here and," he looked around, waving his hand.  "Do wolfy things."

Derek followed them to the door and Allison gave him a smile before ducking outside, closing the door behind her.  He crowded Stiles up against the wall, sniffing at his neck.  "I don't want you to do this," he said softly, hating the fact that it came out more of a whine.

Stiles brought his hands up and cupped Derek’s neck, stroking his thumb through the hair at the base of his skull.  "I know.  But admit it, it's the only way and it's a good plan.  I’m never really going to be in danger.  We'll get the stuff, get back here, get you all doused, and then we'll all head back to my house together, dropping my clothes along the way."

"I don't have to like it," Derek said, nipping at the skin over Stiles' pulse, his lips curling into a satisfied grin when Stiles' pulse started to race under his touch.

"No, and we can talk about that later."  Stiles thumbs pressed into his skin.  "Come on, Der," he whispered.

He placed an open-mouthed kiss to Stiles' neck, biting it until Derek was sure there'd be a mark left behind.  Then he stepped back.  "Go, before I change my mind."

Stiles grinned, stretched up and kissed him on the cheek.  "I'll be back soon.  Get ready to bathe."

Frowning, Derek opened the door, slapping Stiles on the ass as he walked out the door.  Stiles turned back, stuck out his lower lip in a pout and Derek just smirked.  He watched until he couldn't see the tail lights of the Jeep or hear Stiles' heartbeat anymore.  Closing the door, he walked back into the living room to wait with the others.

It was almost dark by the time Stiles and Allison returned.  They'd stopped at his house to pick up some more clothes to leave as breadcrumbs.   They had several large containers of liquid in the back of the Jeep along with a few smaller containers of powder.

"What's the powder for?" Derek asked, hoisting one of the liquid jugs onto his shoulder.

"It's for your clothes.  You'll all have to be hosed down with the liquid and then I have to dust all your clothes with the powder.  It will completely mask your scent so the only thing she'll smell will be me."

"I'm still not happy with this," Derek argued, as they stepped into the house.

"I know."

"Okay.  There's really no easy way to do this other than hose you down.  I don't have enough, didn't have enough time or enough room in my Jeep to make enough for you all to take baths in, so hosing will have to do.  Deaton is obviously a man with many hidden talents.  All these handy dandy jugs come with hose attachments.  Best to do it in the tub and have someone else hose you down.  While you're doing that, we made a dried powder form that I will be sprinkling on all of your clothes.  Let's get busy.  The mermaid always showed up around sevenish, and it's almost six now."

"You heard him.  I've got three bathrooms and we've got three jugs.  I'll go last.  Move." Derek yelled.

The room cleared as everyone split off to head to different bathrooms.  When they were alone, Derek turned to Stiles.  "You have to do me.  We'll take the bathroom in the master bedroom."

Silently, Stiles followed him back to the bedroom, the urge to hit his knees when they stepped over the threshold was strong, but he just took a deep breath, swallowed hard and ignored it.  Until they were in the bathroom and Derek was pushing him against the door, nuzzling into his neck again.  "I know what you're thinking.  And once we get rid of her, we'll come back here and you can surrender, okay?"

Stiles nodded against Derek's chest and Derek heard his breathing slow down, felt his heart rate calm as well. 


Quick and efficient, Derek stripped out of his clothes and stepped into the tub.   "Go see if Allison and Scott are done," he said roughly. 

He stood in the tub, waiting for Stiles to return.  He knew Allison and Scott were finished.  The look he'd given all of them when he'd sent them off had been enough to keep everyone focused on the task at hand.  Plus, he'd heard Allison open the door and set the jug outside the door for Stiles.   

Stiles quickly returned with the jug in hand.  Derek turned, bracing his hands against the tiles and grit his teeth when the cold water hit his back.  Stiles sprayed him from head to toe, including his hair, until it was a dripping mess in his face.  He turned around and Stiles sprayed the front, paying close attention to his cock and balls.

"Sorry," Stiles muttered, his face flushing.  "It's just, your scent is really strong there."

"It's okay," Derek mumbled, clenching his fists determined not to shiver.  "Are you done?"

"Yeah, you have to air dry.  You can't wipe it off with a towel."

"I figured as much.  Go start dusting the clothes.  Start with whoever got doused first."

Derek closed his eyes and listened as Stiles made his way through the house, talking first with Allison and Scott, then with Jackson and Lydia, and finally with Isaac, Boyd, and Erica.  Isaac must have gone first because he heard Isaac say something about making sure every bit of his clothing was covered and then there was silence. 

Running a hand through his hair, Derek was glad it was relatively short or more of his scent would have lingered there.  He brought his hand to his face and sniffed cautiously.  He wrinkled his nose in distaste.  Not only could he not smell himself, he couldn't smell anything.  It was as if his scent had been completely neutralized.  He hoped that powder stuff worked as well as the liquid or this would be a really short-lived plan. 

It wasn't long, maybe fifteen minutes before Stiles returned.  He heard him rummaging around in the bedroom and then a minute later he was back with fresh clothes.  Stiles shook them out and a dusting of powder rose up into the air. 

"Sorry, if the excess gets on you, it won't hurt anything.  Had to use fresh clothes, your scents were too deep into the fabric of the ones you were wearing.  Good thing everyone decided to start keeping some spare clothes here."

Silently, Derek grabbed the jeans and shirt and put them on.  "What about shoes?"

"Probably best if you go barefoot or only in socks.  Your scents are too embedded into your shoes.  Lydia's kind of pissed about that but Jackson said he'd carry her."

Rolling his eyes, Derek pulled on the clean pair of socks Stiles handed him.

"Okay.  Looks like you're all ready.  Let's go do this."

Derek grabbed his arm as he started toward the door.  Stiles turned, his wrist still in Derek's hand.  Derek pulled him close, but not close enough to touch.  "Be safe," he growled softly. 

"I will."

They gathered at the entranceway.  Derek gave a few last minute instructions and then they were off, in twos and threes, with Derek the last to leave before Stiles left with Allison.  He gave Stiles one last look and then he was running through the woods toward Stiles' house.

He could hear bits and pieces of Stiles' conversation with Allison.  She was asking him about Derek, if there was something going on.  Derek stopped running, wanting to hear what Stiles' answer was but it was muffled by the wind.  He'd have to worry about that later, along with the rest of the pack's reaction when they were told or the pack figured it out on their own.  That was probably something he and Stiles should discuss if they survived the night.

Forcing himself to focus on running and stop worrying about Stiles was a futile task, but Derek tried anyway.  He was the last to arrive at Stiles' house.  Erica and Boyd were both up on the roof hidden behind the outcroppings of the bedroom windows.  He could hear Isaac and Jackson inside the house, Jackson just inside the front door and Isaac just inside the backdoor.  Scott was up on the second floor in the hallway and Lydia was in the kitchen.  Derek leapt up onto the roof and went in through Stiles' window. 

He prowled through the house, unable to find a sufficient spot for himself.  He finally settled on the living room.  Standing in the center of the room, he closed his eyes and listened for Stiles.  It wasn't long before he heard the distinctive heartbeat and although he would never admit it to anyone else, it soothed him to hear it.

Stiles came in through the front door and didn't say anything to Jackson, just moved onto the kitchen, slung his empty bag down on the floor and got a bottle of water out of the fridge.  He carried it into the living room and turned on the TV, barely glancing over at Derek before settling down onto the couch to wait.

It was an hour before Derek heard something outside and his eyes bled red as he turned his head toward the front. 

"She's here."  Allison whispered. 

"Do it," Derek said softly, knowing Erica and Boyd would hear him.  Within a few seconds, he heard the familiar twang of an arrow flying from Allison's bow, and then a screech ripped through the silence that made the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end.

That's when all hell broke loose.

He heard Erica and Boyd jump off the roof and he ran outside with a snarl but it felt like everything was happening in slow motion, just like in the movies.  The mermaid was fast, way faster than any of them had anticipated.  She was able to dodge all but the first arrow Allison shot and wind her way between Boyd and Erica, making it to the front door just as Derek did. 

He and Jackson jumped her and Scott came barreling down the stairs just as Isaac burst in to the hallway from where he'd been guarding the back door. 

"Don't let her in the house!" Scott shouted.

"You bitch," Jackson yelled, grabbing the mermaid around her throat.

Derek tackled her to the ground, and took Jackson with him.  He didn't even have to look up to know that Erica and Boyd were dusting themselves off and heading over to help.  It was all he could do to keep his anger in check.  She'd gone after Stiles and he was blind with rage.  The wolf inside him was clamoring for her blood and Derek wasn't going to rest until her throat was in his teeth.

It gave him strength and later Stiles would laugh and compare it to when a soccer mom lifts her mini-van off her kid, but Derek threw everyone aside and went right for her throat.  The mermaid never had a chance.  The fight was over just like that and Derek was spitting skin, muscle, blood and gore onto the ground.

The mermaid let out another scream but it sounded more like a gurgle and gave Derek a hurt betrayed look, while he just growled at her.  Boyd grabbed him, pulling him back.  "Derek, Derek, she's dead man.  She's dead."

Erica and Jackson grabbed her body, while Isaac started covering up the blood in the yard.   Boyd dragged Derek back inside and into the kitchen, grabbing some paper towels and wiping off his face.  Angrily, Derek snarled, snatching the towels out of Boyd's hands.  "I got it.  I got it."

Holding his hands up, Boyd stepped away.  "Okay.  Just trying to help.  I'll leave you to it."  He turned and walked out of the kitchen, leaving Derek alone. 

Turning the water on, Derek waited until it was warm before washing his face and hands off and then rinsing his mouth off.   When he finished, he braced his hands on the counter, his head down, chin nearly touching his chest.  He never heard Stiles come into the room until he felt the light touch on his shoulder. 

He tensed but then Stiles' scent drifted over him and the tension eased.

"Hey, you okay?" Stiles asked softly.

"Yeah," Derek replied gruffly.  Fortunately, Stiles knew enough not to push this time and he just squeezed Derek's shoulder.  "Everyone is out front when you're ready to join us."

"Did they get rid of the body?"

"Yeah, it's gone.  Erica and Jackson tore it to shreds and then I think Scott burned it.  Don't worry, the fire's out.  They just wanted to get rid of any evidence.  Plus make sure she'd never come back."

"I'll be out in a minute.  Just want to finish cleaning up."  Stiles left and this time Derek was actually glad.  He'd never wanted Stiles to see that dark, feral part of him, the part that would have gladly ripped the mermaid to pieces and danced on her remains with a smile on his face and a song in his heart.  And he’d have done all of that just because she'd dared to go after Stiles. 

Deep down Derek knew what it meant, but he still wasn't ready to admit it to himself, let alone Stiles.  One day he would be, but it wasn't today.  He rinsed his mouth out and washed his face off one more time before grabbing more paper towels and drying himself off.  He yanked his shirt over his head and tossed it into the trash, making sure to bury it beneath the rest of the garbage.  He'd make sure to take the trash out for Stiles before he left for the night.  Finally feeling in control of himself, he walked out of the kitchen to join the rest of his pack...  And Stiles.

Derek closed the door behind Scott, promising him that he'd make sure Stiles got some sleep.  Stiles was so wound up, Derek knew Scott could hear his heart racing from the driveway, but Derek knew what he needed, knew what would calm him down.  He turned all the locks, knowing the Sheriff had the keys but also wouldn't be back until at least eight am.  By that time, they'd both be clean and asleep in Stiles' bed.  But now, now, he needed to go check on his boy.

He found Stiles in the living room, sitting on the couch, staring at the Xbox, his knee bouncing up and down, fingers drumming out a silent rhythm on his thigh.  Derek could smell the anxiety and relief pouring off him, could feel the extra nervous energy in the air.


"Huh?" Stiles turned around, dropping the game controller in the process.  "What?"

Derek just quirked an eyebrow and watched Stiles' Adam's apple move as he swallowed. 

"Right," Stiles replied, flexing his hand against his thigh. 

Derek heard the breath that caught in his throat and the way his heart skipped a beat, but he also heard the way Stiles' heart started to slow and he saw the tension start to leech out of the set of Stiles' shoulders.  Slowly, Stiles stood up and turned around to face Derek.  Without a word, he sank to his knees, bowed his head and placed his hands on his thighs.   The ultimate picture of submission.  The growl that slipped out of Derek's throat was one he couldn't hold back; his wolf was too pleased to be subdued.

He walked around Stiles, looking over the lines of his body.  He wanted to strip Stiles naked, search him for any scratches or bruises then leave his own marks behind, but this would have to do for now.  His inspection complete he stopped right behind Stiles, reached down and rested his hand on the back of his neck, stroking up and down with his thumb.  "Good boy."

Derek could smell Stiles' arousal heightened at the affirmation. He smiled, stripping off his shirt and tossing it onto the couch.  This was the space Stiles needed, the grounding he needed to calm down and relax.  When Derek thought Stiles was calm enough, he squeezed his neck.  "I know you've got things you want to say.  I'm giving you permission to speak freely.  Go."

"You almost died," Stiles said softly.  "And you almost went wild.  Derek, I saw you, the feral look on your face."  He turned his head so he could meet Derek's eyes.  "You would have torn her to pieces."

Clenching his fists at his side, Derek nodded silently. 


Surprised, Derek opened his mouth to say something and then shut it again.  This was Stiles' time.

"I'm glad.  And don't you ever think that I'm scared of you or that I'm ashamed of you."  He paused as he surged to his feet, wrapping his arms around Derek's waist and burying his face in Derek's chest.  "Never think that because that will never happen."

Derek wrapped his arms around Stiles, holding him close.  "I would have ripped her to shreds for you."

"I know."

Stiles kissed Derek's neck and then tilted his head down to lick at Derek's collarbone.  He opened his mouth and started to suck and Derek cupped the back of his head, holding him in place not even trying to stifle the moan that tore out of his throat.  He knew that after what had happened earlier, Stiles would feel the need to take care of him and this time he was going to let him because he needed it just as much.

Kisses trailed down his chest, blunt teeth nibbled at his nipples, and made them peak with need and drove Derek to bury his hands in Stiles' hair.  Stiles didn't stay put for long, just long enough to leave both nipples pink and swollen before working his way down Derek's belly, licking along the outlines of his muscles. 

A shiver raced up Derek's spine when Stiles reached his waistband and dipped his tongue into Derek's belly button.  He tightened the hand he had in Stiles' hair, involuntarily jerking it a little.  He felt Stiles smile against his skin right before fingers easily undid the button of his jeans and pulled the zipper down. 

He rubbed his cheek up and down the length of Derek's erection. Derek bit his lip, and fought the urge to just grab Stiles' chin and fuck into his mouth.  Instead, he closed his eyes and just concentrated on feeling.  Warm breath made his skin hot through the cotton of his boxer briefs, and wet cloth clung to the head of his cock because he was already leaking pre-come.

Then Stiles' mouth was right over the wet spot sucking at the cotton before licking at the tip that was just starting to peek out from the waistband of Derek's underwear.

"Please?  Can I?" Stiles whispered.

Stunned, Derek opened his eyes and his knees almost buckled at the sight of Stiles kneeling, amber eyes blown wide with passion, lips swollen and cheeks flushed with need.

"Yes," he said, his voice rough with desire and restraint.

A flash of a smile and Stiles' hands were yanking Derek's jeans and underwear down, freeing his cock and his balls.  Reverently, Stiles took Derek's cock in hand, just gently stroking it, rubbing his thumb over the top, smearing the tacky liquid that kept beading up.  Derek watched as Stiles leaned closer and chastely kissed the tip of his cock before parting his lips and letting his tongue dart out for a quick taste. 

He pulled back and Derek could see his lips glistening with pre-come and it took all his reserves not to yank Stiles to his feet and lick the taste of himself off those plump lips.  Then blazing hot wetness surrounded his cock as Stiles sucked him into his mouth.  Derek grunted when his cock hit the back of Stiles' throat as he wrapped his hand around the base of Derek's cock.  His free hand held onto Derek's hip, fingers digging into the skin of Derek's ass. 

Stiles bobbed his head up and down, taking Derek all the way in and then almost all the way out.  The suction as he let Derek slide out was intense; he hollowed his cheeks and just grazed his teeth over the thin skin of Derek's cock. The hint of pain, the threat of more was driving Derek insane.  He wanted to grab Stiles' head and just fuck like a madman into his mouth.    

That was when Stiles let go of the base of his cock and grabbed his hip instead.  He looked up at Derek and flicked his eyes down at Derek's dick and back up to his face. 

"Are you sure?" Derek rasped out, hands clenching at his side.

Mutely, Stiles nodded and twirled his tongue around Derek's dick in encouragement.  That was all Derek needed, he tangled his hands into the hair at the sides of Stiles' head and started to thrust gently into his mouth.  After a few seconds of this, Stiles tapped his hand impatiently against Derek's thigh and Derek shot him a glare.  The look he got in return was full of indignation and insolence. 

Derek tightened his grip on Stiles' head, getting a firmer hold and fucked into his mouth.  With every thrust, his dick met the back of Stiles' throat and Derek pulled back immediately.  He didn't want to hurt Stiles, make him choke, but the inside of Stiles' mouth felt so good, Derek was having trouble holding himself back.  He knew Stiles didn't want him to hold back, but his need to take care of Stiles was far outweighing his need to just fuck ruthlessly into his mouth. 

He gentled his grip on Stiles' head, giving him back some of the control.  "I wanna see what you can do, Stiles.  Make me come with your tongue."

Stiles grinned around his cock and swirled his tongue around Derek's length, lapping at the tip, and pointing his tongue, dipping it into the slit.  That pulled a delighted moan from Derek who slipped and started to beg.

"Jesus Stiles, more, please.  Just more."

He could feel his orgasm coiling at the base of his spine, felt his balls drawing up, knew it wouldn't be long.  Loosening his grip and threading his fingers through Stiles' hair, he was just guiding now, feeling the movements as Stiles’ mouth and tongue worked over his cock.  Then Stiles released it with a pop and sucked Derek's sac into his mouth instead. 

It curbed the urgency of Derek's orgasm and drew out his pleasure.  Stiles went back to Derek's cock, sucking hard on the head, cupping his balls with his hand, pressing on that tiny, little patch of skin right behind them with his thumb.  The mix of sensations overwhelmed Derek and before he could even warn Stiles, he was blowing his load, shooting spunk right down Stiles' throat. 

Stiles swallowed convulsively, obviously trying not to let any escape but when Derek finally opened his eyes, there was come dripping out of the corner of Stiles' mouth, sliding down his chin.  He swiped it up with his thumb and brought it up to his own mouth, and licked it off.   Stiles sucked him until he grabbed at his shirt, yanking him up, his cock too sensitive for anything more. 

Crushing their mouths together, Derek thrust his tongue into Stile's mouth, chasing down the flavor of his come, licking it out until there was nothing left but the taste of Stiles.  "So good," he murmured, stroking the side of Stiles' face.  Derek dipped down and licked the corner of Stiles' mouth where his come had leaked out.  Once Stiles' face was clean, Derek nuzzled into his neck, sniffing out the scent that was pure Stiles. 

"Fuck, you smell good," he mumbled.  He reached down and wasn't surprised to find a wet spot on the front of Stiles' jeans.  "Didn't tell you that you could come," he scolded quietly.

"Sorry, couldn't help it," Stiles answered, face buried in Derek's neck.

Chuckling softly, Derek rubbed a hand up and down his back.  "One day you will.  One day you will."

Almost a month of relative peace and quiet went by before a shape-shifter moved into town and started stirring up trouble.  There were complaints of trash cans being turned over and people were blaming it on raccoons and were setting out traps.  The general store had been robbed and the cashier couldn't give any kind of an accurate description and the video surveillance wasn't helpful at all.  It mysteriously only caught a blur which sent Stiles right into research mode.  It didn't take him long to figure out that it was a shape-shifter, too many forums talked about how they didn't really show up on film. That made him research more because he felt it was necessary to find out exactly what it was about shape-shifters that made them almost invisible on camera. 

"It's kind of like they have a perception filter like on Doctor Who?  For some reason, the fact that they can change shape into any form they want makes whatever form they're in unfixed.  So the camera only sees a blur.  It's kinda cool actually.  Way better than that whole flashy thing you all do with your eyes."

Jackson flipped Stiles off and even Scott sent him a glare.  Stiles just shrugged.  "Hey, I'm just telling you what I found out.  You have to admit being invisible to a camera is a much better super power."

"Stiles," Derek said, the annoyance in his voice barely concealed.  "Why is it here and how do we get rid of it?"

"I don't know why it's here.  Shape-shifters are nomadic by nature, but they usually go places where they want something.  So there's something here it wants.  We just have to figure out what."

"How do we get rid of it?" Derek asked through clenched teeth.

Stiles rolled his eyes.  "I’m working on it.  I keep getting mixed messages.  Some of my less reliable sources say decapitation so that should only be as a last resort, others say they can be killed with a spell except the spell will kill anything with shape-shifting ability unless they're protected.  The spell is probably our best bet.  As soon as I translate everything we need and get some protection stones for all of you."

"Why don't I just rip its head off?"

"You could and then it could come right back to life and then where would we be?  Huh?  Just let me do the damn spell, if it doesn't work, then you can rip its head off.  You'll be right there with me."

"Is it dangerous?"

"It's a shape-shifter, safe to assume that yes, it's dangerous."

"I meant the spell, Stiles, is the spell dangerous?" Derek growled in frustration.

"Probably, I mean, I don't know, it's all in Latin?  And they don't exactly write out the consequences of the spell, beyond what it's supposed to do and all.  Also, protection stones, so I would say yes?"

"Okay, new plan, I'm ripping its head off."

Immediately Stiles stood up.  "Bad plan.  No, that is a very bad plan."  He walked over to Derek while he was talking, until they were face to face and Stiles was poking him in the chest to emphasize all his words.  "Just because the spell is dangerous doesn't mean it won't work.  I just need a little bit of time before you go storming after it all half-cocked." 

Derek drew himself up, his eyes flashing red.  "I am not waiting for some spell that may or may not work," he snarled.

"Yes.  You.  Are.  You are not going after that thing by yourself and just randomly ripping its head off."

Pushing in closer to Stiles until they were chest to chest, Derek continued the argument.  "We are doing what I want to do and that is final."

Stiles pushed at Derek's shoulder before stubbornly folding his arms over his chest as well.  "No, you're not and no, it isn't."

"Hey, hey, guys.  Look, we don't have to decide tonight.  Right?  It's late, everyone is on everybody else's nerves.  Let's just take a step back…" Scott pushed Derek back while he was talking, and stepped in front of Stiles.

"I say we go with Derek's plan.  Just find the bastard and rip its head off.  So much simpler and more elegant than a stupid spell that geek-boy over here isn't even sure will actually work.  I mean, really, if you're going to present a plan, make sure it’s a good one.  Violence is always good.  But you Stiles, you always manage to come up with these pansy-ass plans that never involve violence.  What the hell is that about?  Your daddy doesn't want you mixing it up with the big boys so you're playing it safe?"

"Shut up Jackson," Scott snarled, his eyes flashing yellow.  "Stiles has saved our asses more times than anyone else, so you just shut up."

"No, Scott, you shut up.  And seriously Stiles," Jackson turned to him, his eyes flashing yellow and his nails elongating, "you should just stop with the stupid ass plans and let Derek, who is the Alpha, handle it.  Jesus, your plans are always the dumbest fucking wastes of time and usually end up with you getting hurt.  So just shut the hell up and let Derek do his plan." 

Suddenly, Scott shoved Jackson, snarling in his face.  "Shut up, Jackson!"

Stiles grabbed the back of Scott's shirt, yelling.  "Scott, Scott, let it go man, he's just being a douchebag.  Just let it go."

Jackson threw Scott out of the way and went for Stiles, wrapping a fisted claw in Stiles' shirt and dragging him closer.  Stiles was frantically trying to get his feet under him, his toes scratching at the ground, his eyes shut tightly as Jackson growled and snapped his jaws in Stiles' face.

Derek saw red.  In an instant, he'd grabbed onto Jackson's wrist and twisted until Jackson let go of Stiles and then twisted just enough to hear the satisfying snap of Jackson's bones.  Jackson cried out in pain and Derek shoved him to the ground, kicking him in the ribs before bending down and yanking him by his hair and putting his mouth to Jackson's throat.

"Derek!  Derek!  Derek!" Stiles screamed in a panic, his hands wrapped around Derek's arm and he pulled with all his strength.  "Jesus, Derek, let him go, please."

The please was what did it.  Hearing Stiles' voice with so much fear and anxiety in it broke through the red haze and Derek pulled his mouth away from Jackson's throat.  He turned to look at Stiles.

"Derek, please," Stiles whispered, pleaded with him.  "I’m sure he didn't mean it.  You broke his arm, let him go.  Please."

With a huff, Derek dropped Jackson to the floor and pulled Stiles into his chest, wrapping his arms around him and burying his nose in his neck.  Scott took a step toward them and Derek growled and shoved Stiles behind him, crouching down into a defensive stance in front of him.  Scott's eyes widened and he took a step back.  "Stiles?"

"Derek!"  Stiles grabbed Derek's shoulder.

With another snarl in Scott's direction, Derek turned his head just enough to see Stiles without turning his back on Scott.  Stiles smiled at him, it was a nervous smile and it made the wolf inside Derek paw the ground and whine.  He didn't like it when Stiles was nervous.

"Hey, buddy.  Hey, it's okay.  Jackson didn't mean it.  He was just being his normal douche self and you know Scott, he's my best bud.  Okay?  I need to go talk to him –"

Derek growled, his eyes flashing red. 

Stiles frowned.  "Derek, I need to talk to Scott and the others, we need to figure out why you just went apeshit."

"I know!"  Lydia piped up from across the room.

"Not helping," Stiles replied through clenched teeth.

Turning back to Derek, he spoke softly.  "Not going anywhere.  I'll even stay in eyesight.  But I need to go talk to them," he said firmly.

Somewhere inside, Derek understood what Stiles was saying and he moved aside, only letting out a soft warning growl when Stiles stepped out from behind him.  Stiles just reached out and grabbed his clawed hand and squeezed it before moving away and closer to Scott.  He watched as Stiles was careful not to touch Scott but jerked his head toward the other side of the room. 

Derek fought for control of himself, wrestling the wolf inside for it.  The wolf kept howling though, it wanted Stiles on his knees so everyone would see and know Stiles was his mate.  He clenched his claws into fists at his side, closed his eyes, tried to concentrate on the conversation that was going on across the room, felt when Stiles turned to look at him.

"What the fuck man?" Scott whispered tersely.

"Look, it's complicated," Stiles answered nervously.

"I can smell him all over you.  You both smell different," Scott answered back.  "It's been off for a while now, but I just thought it was because you were getting your ass kicked all the time and Derek was being Derek.  But it's not, is it?"

"Oh my God, you are all idiots.  Derek's wolf obviously believes that Stiles is its mate.  And judging by the way Derek looks at Stiles when he doesn't think any of us are paying attention, I'd say that's how Derek feels as well.  Question is, how does Stiles feel?"

Derek's eyes popped open as soon as Lydia stopped talking.  He snorted in amusement at the pink blush he could see creeping up the back of Stiles' neck.  And he could see Stiles opening and closing his mouth, his hands frozen in mid-gesture while his brain was obviously trying to figure out how to answer.  Derek had almost enough control back to answer, but Stiles beat him to it.

"Lydia's right.  About all of it.  And to answer your question," he paused, turning to give Derek a small smile before facing the rest of the pack again.  "I feel the same way he does."

Stiles paused and Derek knew he was letting it sink in, gauging their reactions.  When the silence went on longer than Stiles could probably tolerate, he spoke again, clapping his hands together.  "So, obviously that went over well?  Derek and I need a bit of alone time, need to talk about what happened, figure out why he went apeshit, and how to keep him from doing it again."

"He went apeshit because Jackson was being an ass and picking on you," Lydia replied dryly.  "It's apparent that defending you is going to be a thing now.  We should all probably give it a few weeks before it's safe to tease you or get physical with you.  What?" she looked around at everyone's surprised faces.  "Stiles isn't the only one that can do research.  Besides, Scott was the same way with Allison.  Why wouldn't Derek be that way with Stiles?  Although I think it's probably more pronounced and he's more aggressive because he's the Alpha.  The books weren't really clear on that part.  They just said to avoid threatening or touching a newly formed bondee without the bonder's specific permission to do so."

Gracefully, she stood up from her chair and bent down to pick up her purse.  "So, we need to give them some space, let the bond settle and in a week or so things will probably mostly be back to normal."

"Does this mean I can't push Stiles into the lockers at school?"

The image of Jackson slamming Stiles up against a locker sent jealousy and rage racing through Derek's veins again. He let out a menacing growl, his eyes flashing red and the claws on his feet scratching on the wood. 


Stiles' voice pulled Derek out of the red haze again and he realized he'd actually started moving toward the group who were now looking at him, their eyes wide with fear, except Lydia and Stiles.

She shot Jackson a glare.  "That answer your question?  Stiles is off limits for the near future.  Okay, out, let's go.  The shape-shifter can wait one more night." 

Derek watched as she shooed everyone out.  Scott stood staring at Stiles for several long moments, he even reached his hand out to clap Stiles on the shoulder but when Derek let out a snarl, he dropped his hand and Stiles shrugged in apology. 

They did some fake fist bump thing and Stiles assured Scott they could Skype later.  Once everyone was gone, Stiles turned around to look at Derek.  He wasted no time at all in striding across the room to stand in front of him.

Derek's heart pounded in his chest.  Suddenly he was worried that Stiles was going to scold him and he could hardly look him in the eyes. 

"Hey," Stiles said softly, grasping Derek's chin, lifting it up until their eyes met.  "Wanted to make sure you saw this and got the message loud and clear."

Darting forward, he pressed his lips to Derek before pulling off and dropping to his knees, his head bowed in submission, his hands clasped behind his back. 

"I know I'm not supposed to talk when I'm down here, that I'm supposed to defer to you and let you lead and me follow, including not speaking unless I'm given permission.  But I need to say this and I need you to hear it.  So I'm breaking the rules.  I'm yours.  You're mine.  We belong together, to each other, whatever.  We're done with taking this slow.  That obviously isn't working for your wolf, seeing as how your wolf broke Jackson's arm for being his normal douche self.  So whatever it is you need to do for the wolf to be happy with staking its claim – do it.  Well, besides peeing on me, please," he looked up at Derek, sudden worry showing in his eyes.  "Oh God, please don't let it be peeing, it's not peeing is it?"

Startled, Derek shook his head.

"Oh thank God.  Okay, um, so I'm down here on my knees, submitting and all, except for you know, the talking, which I do when I'm nervous or thinking or anytime really but you knew that too.  Oh shit, do you have a knot?  Do you need to knot me?  Oh fuck, what the hell does that feel like?"

The wolf in Derek had calmed quite a bit since everyone had left and Stiles had gone to his knees for him.  It enabled Derek to regain enough control to actually talk.  "Stiles, I don't have a knot.  But I, I want," Derek clenched his hands at his sides.  "I need to claim you," he said quietly.

"Claim me?" Stiles asked, looking at him in confusion and then his eyes went big and his cheeks pinked up.  "Oh.  OH.  Um, okay, I'm totally on board with that.  Yes.  Let's get on with the Stiles claiming.  How do you want me, where?"

Laughter bubbled up out of Derek's chest as the tension in him finally eased and the wolf inside pranced in anticipation. 

"I mean, I'm up for doing it on every surface in the house, the table, the couch, the floor, but we should probably pick a spot for the first time, you know?"

Derek's dick was already stiffening up in his jeans and the drive to leave his mark on Stiles was almost overwhelming.  "Here," he said roughly.  He bent down and grabbing Stiles' arms, dragged him up, crushing their mouths together in a bruising kiss.  Thrusting his tongue into Stiles' mouth forcefully, he slid an arm around his waist, pressing them together, stealing the breath right out of Stiles' lungs.

Stiles flailed his arms a bit before they found purchase on Derek's chest, the palms of them hot against Derek's already burning skin.  They didn't stay there for long, when Derek slid a hand down to cup his ass, Stiles slid his hands up Derek's chest and around his neck.  Fingers combed through his hair and Derek let out a satisfied grunt when Stiles thrust forward, rubbing his hardened cock against Derek's leg. 

Stiles was rutting against the leg Derek shoved between his thighs and making these little noises that Derek couldn't seem to get enough of.  "Stiles," he growled out raggedly, turning them around and pushing Stiles toward the wall. 

The sound that Stiles made when his back hit the wall, wasn't one Derek had heard before, but the way he was still trying to climb Derek reassured him that Stiles was fine.  Now Derek had leverage and he was using it, thrusting against Stiles, mouthing at his neck, leaving bite marks in his wake.  He pulled back and extended a claw.  Stiles looked down at it and Derek could smell his nerves spike.  Grinning smugly at Stiles, he drew it down Stiles' shirt, ripping it right down the middle. 

Stiles didn't even protest when Derek used another claw to cut the sleeves off, leaving Stiles naked from the waist up.  Derek let his eyes roam over the pale skin in front of him and his mouth watered just thinking about all the unblemished skin that he was about to mark the fuck up.  He just wasn't sure where to start. 

So he dropped his hands, drew in his claws, and popped the button on Stiles' jeans.

"Jesus, Derek," Stiles breathed out, sucking his stomach in as Derek slid a hand inside his boxers and wrapped it around the length of his cock.

He stroked his fist over Stiles' dick, mouthing at his neck, sucking up marks along Stiles' collarbone before working his way down Stiles' chest.  Each nipple was licked, sucked, and bit until it was pink and puffy and sensitive to the point that Stiles moaned when Derek blew over them.  Derek continued leaving marks in a trail toward Stiles' waist until he was on his knees and his fingers were quickly opening up Stiles' jeans before shoving them down to the floor.

Burying his nose into the hair at the base of Stiles' cock, Derek inhaled, closing his eyes and letting the scent of male arousal surround him.  It was heady and musky and his wolf wanted to roll around in it. Better still, the pure scent of Stiles was underlying all of it.  Elongating a single claw, he dragged it down Stiles' skin from his hipbone to his thigh, reveling in the moan of pleasure it pulled from Stiles' throat. 

Lightly, he drew the claw along the creamy expanse of Stiles' inner thigh until he was pressing it against the sensitive skin behind Stiles' balls.  He leaned forward and licked Stiles' balls, savored the pebbled texture of the thin skin covering them, before sucking them into his mouth. 

"Jesus, Derek," Stiles cried out, burying his hands in Derek's hair.

The wolf inside him growled in satisfaction and Derek could feel the sound vibrate along Stiles' skin as the fingers in Derek's hair tightened their grip.  He licked and sucked the heavy sac in his mouth before letting it go and tracing his claw up the length of Stiles' dick, following it with his tongue. 


"Hngh?" Stiles asked, his eyes unfocused and cloudy with arousal and need.

"Watch me."  Slowly, Derek poked his tongue out, gathered up the little bit of pre-come that had beaded up on Stiles' cock, before he wrapped his lips around the crown and dropped his mouth all the way to the base.  He swallowed around the head, reached up to grab onto Stiles' hip and pressed him firmly against the wall. 

He pulled off with a pop and Stiles looked down at him, a look of confused indignation on his face.  Derek just grinned.  "Don't move."

Sucking Stiles' cock back into his mouth, Derek closed his eyes, humming in appreciation.  The spit-slick slide of it across his tongue, the weight of it in his mouth, the salty tang of the pre-come now steadily leaking out, made his own cock hard and tight in the confines of his jeans.  He wanted to taste all of Stiles, everywhere.  With minimal prodding he got Stiles turned around, face pressed against the wall, cock trapped between his belly and the plaster.

The creamy skin of Stiles' ass was pale and enticing in front of him.  He let out a snarl and leaned forward, kissing it gently before sinking his teeth into the flesh.

Stiles let out a startled yelp but didn't move.    

When Derek was satisfied with the mark he'd left, he drew back, and rubbed his thumb over the reddened skin, pleased with the clear bite mark he saw.  Within seconds he was biting the other cheek, intent on leaving a matching mark behind.

"God, Derek, what the hell?" Stiles moaned.

But Derek ignored him, working the flesh between his teeth, drawing the blood to the surface until he could almost taste it.  He licked the skin, soothing the sting of his teeth away.  Again he rubbed his thumb over it and Stiles let out another moan.  Derek could smell his arousal, but his grip on Stiles' hips was so firm that there was no way for Stiles to move or get any kind of friction or relief. 

He leaned forward again, nosing at the top of Stiles' crack, the smell an enticing mix of male arousal, sweat, and musk.  It made his wolf want to bury its snout in it; instead Derek poked his tongue out and licked the skin lightly, sucking at it just a tiny bit turning it pink.  Tightening his hold on Stiles' hips, he dug his thumbs into the bite marks he'd left and pulled the cheeks of Stiles' ass apart.

"Holy shit, Derek!" Stiles cried out and before he could say anything else, Derek kissed the puckered skin of his hole. 

It was a sloppy open mouthed kiss and Derek sucked on the muscle, teasing it with his tongue until he felt it loosen just enough for him to push the tip of his tongue inside.  Frantically, Stiles pushed against his hold, trying to thrust against the wall and Derek pulled back.  "Don't come.  Not until I say."

Without waiting for an answer, he went right back to licking his way into Stiles' hole, working the muscle until it was relaxed and he was thrusting his tongue inside.  Stiles was making these breathy mewling sounds, punctuated occasionally by Derek's name and a few choice swear words.  Derek growled against his hole in pleasure.  He could smell the pre-come leaking from both of them as he continued working his tongue along with a finger into Stiles' ass.

"Fuck, Derek," Stiles breathed out.  "Please."

Derek licked a few more times before standing up and pressing two fingers to Stiles' lips.  "Suck," he ordered softly, nuzzling into the back of Stiles' neck.

Stiles obeyed him, sucking the two fingers into his mouth, working his tongue between them, slicking them up as much as he could.  When Derek thought they were wet enough, he pulled them out with a pop and worked them between Stiles' cheeks, pushing gently against his relaxed hole until he felt the muscle give and the tips of both fingers slid inside.

Slowly he worked them all the way in, allowing Stiles' muscle to adjust and relax with each little increase. The tight press of Stiles' flesh, the wet heat of his insides grasping Derek's fingers like a glove, made Derek close his eyes, hissing with the effort it took to hold himself back.  Gently, he thrust his fingers into Stiles, crooking them to find the spot that would make Stiles cry out. 

And cry out he did, letting out a sound that made Derek's wolf want to howl right along with him.

"Now Derek, or I swear to fuck I'm coming without you."

Growling, Derek bit the back of Stiles' neck.  "No, you're not.  No coming until I say, remember?"  He curled his fingers just so and Stiles pushed up onto his toes, a needy whine slipping from his lips.  "Please Derek, please."

Yanking his fingers out, Derek brought his other hand up to his face, licking the palm of it until it was good and wet.  He gave himself a few strokes, smearing the extra pre-come that had been leaking out all over the head and mixing it with the saliva on his hand.  Bracing himself against the wall, he positioned the head of his dick up against Stiles' hole.

"Do it," Stiles whispered fiercely, "just fucking do it, please."

"So bossy," Derek muttered, nipping at his shoulder before pushing the head of his cock inside.

Stiles scrabbled at the wall, hands scratching at the wood.  Derek placed his hand over Stiles' and laced their fingers together.  The fingers on Stiles' hand tightened around Derek the more he pushed inside until he was buried in Stiles balls deep, sac pressing against the hot skin of Stiles' ass.  They were both panting and Derek trailed kisses over the back of Stiles' neck.

"So good, so hot for me," he whispered.  "Good boy."

Derek stayed motionless until he felt Stiles relax around him and nod.  Then he began the inexorable slide back and forth, the glide of it rough and heady.  Stiles' ass clenched around him, as if the muscle itself couldn't bear for Derek to even attempt to pull out.  He slid back in and Stiles grunted, the sound vibrating through his body and into Derek's.

Reaching around Stiles, Derek wrapped his free hand around his cock.  The iron feel of it under velvet-soft skin was something Derek always looked forward to, that and the heat that made it feel like it was branding his palm.  Quickly he matched the rhythm of his strokes to the rhythm of his thrusts, pulling when he was pushing in and dropping back down when he was pulling out. 

Stiles worked one of his hands free and reached back, draping it around Derek's neck, pulling him closer.  "Want you," he whispered.  "Need you."

"Yes," Derek answered back, opening his mouth and sucking hard at Stiles' shoulder, biting down gently with his teeth, desperately wanting to mark him inside and out.

"Please," Stiles begged.  "Please Derek."

"What?" Derek growled, speeding up the rhythm until every thrust was punching air out of Stiles and every stroke of his hand over Stiles' cock was milking out more precome.

"Fuck, Derek, I wanna come!"

A satisfied smile spilled across Derek's face and he nuzzled into Stiles' neck, a gentle contrast to the hard, rapid thrust of his cock into Stiles' ass.  "Ask me," he ordered softly.

He felt the second the tension left Stiles' body, knew the second Stiles gave himself up.  "Please Derek, please let me come."

It was said so quietly that if Derek didn't possess werewolf hearing, he might not have heard it.  Stiles laid his head back on Derek's shoulder, exposing his throat.  He was quiet, the look on his face one of utter trust and peace.  He smelled of contentment, desire, sex and need. 

That's when it all slotted into place for Derek, why this worked, why they fit together so well.  He bent down, fit his mouth right over Stiles' Adam's apple, nipped at it with his teeth.  "Come for me Stiles, come for me right now."

And with a swipe of Derek's thumb over the head of Stiles' cock, he came, spilling over Derek's hand and letting out a groan that sounded like Derek's name, but even Derek couldn't be sure.  His ass clenched around Derek's own cock and the tight heat of it sent Derek over the edge as well.  His cock spasmed, coating Stiles' insides, branding him as Derek's.

Derek thrust through both their orgasms until Stiles' hand slipped off his neck and fell limply to his side.  Gathering Stiles in his arms, Derek embraced him from behind, kissing across his neck and shoulders lightly until he felt his cock go soft and slip out.  Only then did he move them away from the wall and manhandle Stiles to the couch until they were both lying on it.  Derek spooned Stiles from behind, arms around Stiles' waist and chest, pressing them together.

Stiles remained still and quiet, bending his head to kiss Derek's arm every once in a while but still silent.  It was Derek whose mind wasn't quiet, whose thoughts were swirling around like a tornado.  He'd finally figured out why this worked for them, why they'd managed to slide into something like this without ever really talking it to death like they normally would have. 

"It's peaceful like this," Stiles said quietly.  "I like it.  My brain isn't going a million miles a minute.  For a while there I wasn't thinking at all, just feeling."

"I know," Derek replied, kissing his ear. 

"I didn't realize that until just now.  I was kind of out of my head, floating in this space where nothing mattered but what I was feeling, what we were doing, that you were happy."

Smiling, Derek bussed a kiss over Stiles' temple.  "Good.  That's what it's supposed to do."

Shifting, Stiles turned in his arms until he was looking at Derek eye to eye.  "Well, then we are doing that shit a fuckton more.  Because for the first time, without me being unconscious, it was quiet in my head.  And I could so get used to that."  He bit his lip, dropping his gaze to Derek's chin.  "Was it like that for you?" he asked shyly.

Brow furrowing in thought, Derek frowned.  "Not exactly."


The sharp bitter smell of disappointment flooded his senses and Derek growled.  "That's not what I meant.  I meant that kind of headspace is different for everyone.  For me it was all about feeling, about finally getting something I wanted, finally being completely, one hundred percent in control and not having to worry about the health and safety of others.  It was about the freedom to just follow my instincts without over-thinking the consequences, when my instincts are mostly about keeping my wolf happy.  And my wolf is happiest when –" Derek bit off the rest, pulling Stiles close, resting his chin on his head.

"Hey," Stiles mumbled against his chest, poking him.  "When is your wolf happy?  You didn't finish that thought and you can't just drop that and not expect me to question it."  He took a deep breath and Derek caught him under the chin and pressed their mouths together.

He slid his tongue into Stiles' mouth, licking around, gliding their tongues together until he felt that same aura of relaxation coming off Stiles that he'd felt before.  Breaking the kiss, he cupped the back of Stiles' head, pressing him into his chest.  "Stiles, just feel."

"Okay," Stiles mumbled again, sliding his arms around Derek's waist, pulling them together.

It wasn't long before Stiles was asleep, his deep even breaths warm and damp against the skin of Derek's chest, right above his left nipple.

"My wolf is happy when his mate is happy," Derek whispered into Stiles' hair, kissing him before letting sleep pull him under as well.


The End


"Fear may induce the show of submission; but love only can truly subjugate a haughty spirit."  Mary Cowden Clarke