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Of Sharks and Lighter Things

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Stiles considered himself to be a fairly even-tempered person. Many people of his acquaintance would probably disagree, but they would most likely be referring to his tendency toward over-preparedness and his vivid imagination that specialized in worst-case scenarios.

Despite those opinions, Stiles believed he was a strong person. He certainly wasn’t one for large displays of emotion, preferring the bottle it up until it implodes method. So after he burst into tears for the third time in one week, he wondered if something was off.

However, he was a college student, and he preferred to avoid dwelling on his emotions. He did a quick google search--and convinced himself he had cancer before swearing off WebMD--then chalked it up to General Motor’s media team knocking it out of the park with a heart wrenching commercial. He also might have punched Jackson in the gut for referring to the incident as “omega histrionics.”

When the dreaded “freshman fifteen” caught up with him--even though he was a senior-- Stiles cursed his weakness for fast food, and dismissed it. He’d always been skinny, and he favoured loose clothing, so it wasn’t a big deal to him. It was the nausea that really did him in. He started feeling queasy at random points throughout the day, which made him tired and cranky, and caused four more bouts of crying. So he bit the bullet and went in to see the doctor.

Fortunately, the problem was easily identified. The medication Stiles was taking for his ADHD was conflicting with his heat suppressants, resulting in his hormones going haywire. Unfortunately, Stiles would have to go off his suppressants completely before Dr. Ross could prescribe him something else.

No suppressant meant he’d actually have to go through his heat.

Dr. Ross offered to forward him to a service that would match him with a willing alpha for his heat, but Stiles politely declined, and rushed out the door. The idea of paying an alpha to knot him made him extremely uncomfortable, and he’d heard more than a few horror stories about omegas who’d used agencies.

By the time he reached his apartment, he was in full blown panic mode because he couldn’t think of a single alpha who’d agree to spend his heat with him. He called Scott and spent half an hour lamenting the fact that he was an unattractive, awkward, and annoying omega who would never be with a decent alpha, and would have to spend his heat with a skeevy stranger whose opinions on omega rights matched the 1950’s.

Scott interjected frequently, attempting to convince Stiles that he was a great person, and an awesome omega, that any alpha would be happy to be with. Stiles didn’t really believe Scott because they’d known each other all their lives so he’d had time to get used to Stiles and all his idiosyncrasies. Besides, Scott was a beta, and didn’t actually know what made alphas' hearts throb. Or their dicks.

“I’ll find someone for you, I promise,” Scott assured him. “Someone really great.”

Stiles went to bed with a carton of butterscotch ripple and a Netflix queue full of Mythbusters episodes, and hoped his best friend would manage a task he’d deemed impossible.


“Hey, Derek!”

Derek had lived with Scott for four years. After so many years sharing a space, Derek would have hoped having his roommate greet him so cheerfully would be a frequent occurrence. It was not. Scott hated having to interact with Derek. Then again, Derek wasn’t especially fond of Scott.

Talia had asked Derek to let Scott live with him just after she’d turned him, hoping Derek would be a calming influence, like he had been for Erica and Isaac. Derek had agreed immediately, but they hadn’t bonded the way she’d hoped.

Scott was probably a good guy under normal circumstances, but learning to control his shift was a frustrating experience for both of them. Scott resented Derek’s clumsy attempts at helping him adjust, which made Derek not want to help at all. Combined with the fact that they were in each other's pockets all the time, it meant that they’d been at each other’s throats on a regular basis.

They’d come to a truce of sorts, mostly staying out of each other's way. Scott spent a lot of time at his girlfriend's apartment, so Derek frequently had the place to himself. When Scott was home, Derek hid valiantly in his room until he had to sneak to the kitchen James Bond style for a snack.

So when Scott plopped down on the end of the couch at Derek’s feet and smiled at him like they were great friends, Derek was not impressed. He flicked his eyes up to acknowledge Scott, then returned them to his laptop.

“How are you doing?” Scott continued.

“Busy,” Derek said, honestly. He’d been busy since he started his PhD, especially as he neared the completion of his dissertation.

“Yeah, for sure,” Scott said easily. “So, you’re an alpha.”

Derek raised an eyebrow at him. “So they tell me.” They'd established quite clearly that Derek’s power status as a werewolf was independent from his dynamic. He was quite happily his mother’s beta, and would someday be his sister’s, but his orientation was firmly alpha.

“Right,” Scott said a little sheepishly. “So, you could totally help an omega through his heat.”

Derek hit save on his work and crossed his arms. “Scott, cut to the chase. What is this about?”

Scott sighed. “I was trying to ease into it.”

“Well, you failed.” Derek nudged Scott’s leg with his foot. “What?”

“You know Stiles, right?” Scott asked.

“No shit,” Derek said. Stiles and Scott had been attached at the hip since he’d known them. He was always coming by the apartment or tagging along to training sessions. He was the most infuriating person Derek had ever met. He was also the most delicious omega that Derek had ever smelled. Everything from the curve of his nose, to his long fingers, to his snarky wit pushed Derek’s button’s in just the right way.

“Yeah, of course,” Scott said, waving Derek’s comment away. “See, the thing is, Stiles' suppressants got all messed up, and long story short, he’s going to have to go through his heat. He needs an alpha, obviously, so I thought maybe, since you’re an alpha and you know Stiles, you could help him out.” Scott wound down slowly, losing confidence as he went on.

“Fine,” Derek said.

Scott blinked at him. “Wait, what?”

Derek rolled his eyes. “I said fine.”

“Fine like, you understand or fine like you’ll do it?” Scott asked.

“Both,” Derek said, just to be contrary.

“Really?” Scott leaned over Derek all bright eyed and happy.

“Yeah, that’s what I said, now go away,” Derek said, lightly kicking at him.

“Are you sure? You aren’t too busy with school and stuff?” Scott refused to budge from the couch. “You didn’t even ask how soon it will be.”

“I said it’s fine, do you want me to do it or not?” Derek growled.

“No, I do!” Scott said finally scrambling up from the couch. “Thanks, Derek, I really appreciate it. I’ll get you back somehow, I promise.”

“You can start by leaving me alone,” Derek said.

“Sure, totally,” Scott said backing away. “I’ll get Stiles to text you or something.”

“Yep.” Derek started typing, even though he knew he’d have to go back and fix it. He just wanted Scott to leave before he questioned Derek’s easy agreement more.

Because truthfully, Derek would love to spend a heat with Stiles. It didn’t matter that he was knee deep in research or up to his ears in term papers to grade. If he was given the chance of even one night with Stiles, he’d take it. To hell with the consequences.


When Scott told Stiles that Derek Hale had agreed to help him through his heat, he was struck with feelings of joy, terror, and mortification.

Joy, because Derek was, without question, the hottest alpha Stiles knew. His abs were insane, his shoulder-to-waist ratio was ridiculous, and his perpetual stubble over diamond sharp cheekbones was glorious.

Terror, because Stiles didn’t think Derek liked him very much. He was always sort of growly and quiet when he was around. Stiles had been on suppressants for long enough that he’d never experienced a heat strong enough that he needed someone, but he still went through a light psuedo-heat that he weathered on his own, so he knew he tended to get needy during his heats. He didn’t want to annoy Derek by being too clingy during his heat and make him regret helping Stiles out.

Lastly, mortified, because over the years, he’d imagined Derek seeing him through his heats, and none of those scenarios had ever included Scott begging Derek to do it as a favour. A pity knot.

He spent most of the day agonizing over what he should text Derek. If they were going to go through with this, they really should talk about it and sort out the details. If they weren’t, Stiles needed to be looking for another alpha, fast.

He was saved from attempting to formulate a coherent text by Derek texting him, When is your class over?

Four. Stiles responded quickly.

Meet me at the library. Third floor.

Stiles refrained from shooting back a snarky comment about Derek demanding instead of asking. He wasn’t going to let that fly for long, but he gave Derek some leniency considering that he was helping Stiles out of a tricky situation.

Class left him bleary eyed and tense. He trudged across campus to the library Derek frequented. After circling the third floor and seeing no sign of him, Stiles settled into an armchair next to an end table, hoping he’d be able to keep the chair opposite it free long enough for Derek to get there.

He closed his eyes briefly, taking a moment to let his exhaustion seep in. He startled awake when Derek slapped a cup onto the table and sat down. “When does your heat start?”

“Mocha?” Stiles said, taking the cup and inhaling deeply.

Derek shrugged. “It’s what you like, isn’t it?”

Stiles hummed agreement as he sipped. He attributed the warm feeling in his chest to the drink and not pleasure that Derek, his alpha for all intents and purposes, was providing for him.

“You seem…” Derek trailed off and it was Stiles’ turn to shrug.

“I’ve already been taken off my suppressants. Should only be a couple days until my heat starts. Makes me a bit loopy,” Stiles explained. He hated this feeling. Soft and sleepy, but irritable and agitated at the same time.

“When do you think it will start?” Derek asked.

“Sometime Thursday, probably,” Stiles said.

Derek nodded. “I can book a room at the clinic--”

“No,” Stiles said immediately. He winced as Derek raised an eyebrow. “I don’t really like hospitals. I’d prefer to be home, if that’s okay?”

“Fine,” Derek said. “I’ll come over Thursday morning.”

Stiles agreed easily and they lapsed into silence, each sipping their drinks. “So, what are the rules?”


“Yeah,” Stiles said. “I’ll be kind of out of it, but if you tell me anything I can’t do, I’ll try to remember.”

Derek stared at him blankly for a moment. “What, like a kink list?”

“Oh my god, no!” Stiles could feel the blood rushing to his face and was sure he’d look like a tomato in seconds. “I just meant… I don’t know, I haven’t done this before.”

“Okay,” Derek said quietly. “Whatever's good. If something happens that I’m not alright with, I’ll stop you.”

“Cool.” Stiles scratched at the corner of his cup, staring at his nail as it moved back and forth.

“What about you?” Derek asked.


Derek reached out and tapped Stiles’ cup to get his attention. “Do you have any rules?”

Stiles chewed his nail as Derek waited. “Look, this probably isn’t an issue but… can we keep this between us?”

“What do you mean?” Derek’s default glare deepened to a scowl.

Stiles shrugged awkwardly. “It’s just…heats make us vulnerable. I’ve heard of more omegas than I can count who spend their heat with an alpha, thinking they’re safe, only to come out of it and the alpha had put pictures online. Or gave their friends a play by play. I might say something stupid and I don’t want to be hearing it from random alphas for the next ten years.”

“I wouldn’t do that,” Derek said.

“I don’t think you would, I just...yeah.” Stiles took a large swig of his drink and was disappointed when he finished it. It made a great conversation prop.

Derek reached out and put a gentle hand on Stiles’ wrist. “Don’t worry. I’ll keep you safe.”

“Thank you,” Stiles said quietly. It wasn’t a statement to be made lightly. Stiles would be completely at Derek’s mercy while he was in heat, and Stiles didn’t trust easily.

He just hoped Derek would be true to his word.


Stiles tossed and turned for hours on Wednesday night, finally getting to sleep in the early hours of morning. He woke up to a knock at his door. He recognized the hazy feeling of his heat that had taken over his mind. A small part of him knew he should get up and answer it, but the rest of him wasn’t on board. He was warm and comfortable in bed and he was waiting for something, but he wasn’t sure what. He rolled over and went back to sleep.

His second wake-up was to the sound of his window sliding open, and he panicked until he saw Derek climbing in from the fire escape. Oh, right, that’s what I’m waiting for, he thought, instincts sighing alpha. He hummed to show Derek he was glad he’d come, then snuggled back into his covers. He vaguely registered Derek moving around the apartment, but he didn’t really care. As long as Derek was nearby Stiles would be fine.

The third time Stiles woke up, he really, really wanted Derek. Specifically, Derek’s dick. He could feel Derek in the bed next to him, but there was a sea of blankets between them.

Stiles huffed out a small laugh as he started sliding under the covers, because if the blankets were a sea, he was a shark. Then he had the Jaws theme song stuck in his head.

He managed to get himself to Derek’s lap, and was very pleased to find Derek had stripped down to his briefs. Clever alpha, Stiles thought as he slipped his hand into the waistband. Derek’s length was warm, and Stiles loved the feeling of it slowly hardening as he stroked. He pawed at the fabric until he’d freed Derek’s cock and nuzzled his cheek against the head.

He nearly nipped at it, because sharks, then remembered teeth and sucking dick really don’t mix, so he nommed along the crease of Derek’s thigh briefly before licking from tip to base. He could hear Derek panting above the blankets, and that was fun, but he needed more, so he slipped the head into his mouth and sucked.

Derek’s hips jerked up, then stilled, and Stiles could feel the quivering strength of Derek’s thighs against his sides. Derek managed to push the blankets off, and Stiles had mixed feelings about that. On one hand, it had been warm and cozy under the blankets, safely wrapped up and smelling strongly of himself, sex, and alpha. On the other hand, the fresh air was kind of nice, and he could hear the noises Derek was making much better. Derek made great noises, little gasps and moans and hitches to show how good Stiles was doing as he slowly worked Derek’s cock farther into his mouth.

Stiles decided he was firmly in favour of the blanket being gone when he realized he could look up and see Derek, all flushed and blissed out. Derek put a gentle hand on the back of Stiles’ neck, his fingers buried into his hair.

Stiles hummed around Derek’s cock in appreciation, and that was it, Derek could barely stutter a warning before he was coming down Stiles’ throat. Stiles swallowed eagerly, grinding his hips against the mattress until he could follow Derek over the edge.

Satisfied, at least for the time being, Stiles rolled his way out from between Derek’s legs and settled in to go back to sleep, tongue chasing the lingering taste of Derek’s come.


“Fuck,” Derek whispered. It wasn’t like he hadn’t realized he’d be having sex with Stiles. He’d thought of little else since Scott approached him. He just hadn’t been expecting that. Stiles' mouth wrapped around Derek’s cock had felt absolutely perfect, and the satisfaction of filling Stiles went past just his alpha instincts, it soothed his wolf. He’d given his omega exactly what he needed. Nevermind that he hadn’t had to do much of anything yet.

When Stiles hadn’t answered the door, Derek’s first thought was that he’d changed his mind, and didn’t want Derek’s help. He’d spent too much time standing outside Stiles’ apartment imagining some other alpha who got to be with Stiles,

Of course, then he'd gotten his shit together, and it had occurred to him that maybe Stiles couldn’t come to the door. If his heat had started sooner than they’d expected, he might have been in too much pain to move, his mind too heat-addled to call for help. Derek had dropped the bags he’d brought outside the door, and booked it out of there and around the side of the building. He'd taken the fire escape two stairs at a time until he'd reached Stiles window. He was relieved to find the window unlocked, and even more so to find Stiles safe inside.

Derek could tell by the scent of the room that Stiles’ heat had started, but it wasn’t very far along. Just enough to shut down the higher functioning it would take to get out of bed and come to the door. He’d greeted Derek with a soft smile and a hum, then drifted back to sleep.

After retrieving his supplies from the hall, Derek had set up a few things he knew they’d need later, stripped off his clothes and climbed into bed next to Stiles with his textbook.
Now, the textbook was forgotten on the floor, and Derek was still panting from the perfectly sloppy blowjob he’d just received. Stiles was snuffling into his pillow, going back to sleep. Wait--

“Stiles, Stiles, baby, don’t go to sleep yet.” Derek pulled his briefs back into place, and put his hand on Stiles’ shoulder.

“Wha--?” Stiles mumbled.

“Wake up for a second,” Derek told him, and Stiles blinked up at him blearily. “Have you eaten yet today?”

“No,” Stiles said, than rolled toward Derek, pressing his face into Derek’s hip.

“Hey, hey, don’t fall asleep yet,” He hooked his arm around Stiles’ waist and picked him up, plopping him back down in a sitting position.

“Why?” Stiles whined, trying to lie back down.

“Food, Stiles, you need to eat,” Derek insisted, trying to keep Stiles upright without hurting him. “You’ll get all messed up if you don’t.” He managed to get Stiles settled in his lap with his head on Derek’s shoulder. “Don’t sleep yet,” Derek warned him again as he struggled to grab the bag of food he’d left on the floor without dislodging Stiles.

Derek decided to go with the nectarine he’d brought. He knew Stiles liked them, so it would hopefully stimulate his appetite enough for him to wake up and eat something else, too. If not, it was a good energy food, and they’d try again later. He used his claws to peel it, and decided Stiles must be really out of it, because he’d usually be teasing Derek for that.

The juice from the nectarine glistened on Stiles’ lips in the most enticing way, but Derek forced himself to focus on the task at hand. There’d be plenty of opportunities to kiss Stiles before his heat was over. The juice started dripping down Derek’s wrist, and he shivered as Stiles chased after it with his tongue.

After the fruit was finished, he also managed to get Stiles to eat most of a protein bar before he passed out in Derek’s lap. Derek’s textbook was still on the floor, so he resigned himself to rubbing smooth circles over Stiles’ back, staring at him like a creep, and imagining all the ways he wished Stiles were his.


When Stiles next woke up, his need had grown. It wasn’t enough just to have Derek in his mouth and he tried to articulate this. He was known for his abundance words, but he just couldn’t get them out.

But Derek caught on quickly and murmured, “Sh, sh, I’ve got you, baby.” He repositioned them so that Stiles’ back was to Derek’s chest, and they were sitting up against the headboard. He guided Stiles’ legs open so he could trace his finger around Stiles’ rim, where he was already wet with slick. “You’re so ready, aren’t you? Gonna take me so well.”

Stiles agreed wholeheartedly. He’d take his alpha perfectly, if Derek would just hurry the fuck up. The familiar sound of a lube bottle opening sent a shiver down his spine and he rolled his hips against Derek’s. He moaned when Derek’s finger slid in, his hips bucking to try and get more. Derek worked him open slowly, adding one finger at a time.

Stiles reached back to bury his hands in Derek’s hair, and tilted his head to the side. He’d been around werewolves long enough to know exactly what baring his throat meant, and what it could do to them. Derek didn’t disappoint. His low growl vibrated through Stiles’ back as Derek latched onto his neck to suck and nip at the sensitive skin.

For a while, it was enough just to have Derek’s fingers twisting in his ass and his teeth pressing into his throat, but then the need grew once again until Stiles couldn’t bear it a moment longer. He pawed at Derek’s briefs-- hadn’t he gotten rid of those already?-- getting them out of the way. Derek put a firm arm around his waist, and Stiles braced his feet against the mattress to give himself the leverage to push up and sink down onto Derek’s cock.

Derek held him still, the only sound their heavy breaths, forcing Stiles to take time to adjust to the intrusion. The first roll of his hips was slow and steady. “Again,” Stiles moaned. Derek complied, with one slow thrust and then another, building speed, and slowly taking Stiles apart.

Derek’s hand found Stiles’ dick and started stroking in time with their movements. It didn’t take more than a half dozen strokes to send Stiles tumbling into orgasm. His body clenched around Derek, and he could feel Derek’s knot begin to swell. His thrusts turned shallow, transitioning into desperate grinding as they locked together.

Stiles rolled his body, just to feel the tug at his rim. Derek snapped his hips up and came, filling Stiles with pulse after pulse. Stiles squirmed in Derek’s lap, seeking the exact angle to-- “Oh, oh!”-- rub Derek’s knot against his prostate, and that lead to Stiles coming all over again.

When he finished, Stiles melted against Derek, sated for the moment. His alpha was blissed out and wrapped around him. Stiles could feel Derek still coming, slowly filling him, his knot keeping him deliciously full. He let his mind drift, hovering on the edge of sleep, but not yet succumbing to its call.


Stiles fell asleep after the first and second times Derek knotted him, but the third time he stayed mostly conscious. They were still tied, and this time they were lying on their sides. Derek was a bit hesitant to wrap himself around Stiles the way he had before, but Stiles snuggled back as close as he could and pulled Derek’s arm around his waist. Derek took that as permission to rub his nose along the nape of Stiles’ neck.

“Where did the nectarine come from?” Stiles asked, voice still a bit sleepy and dazed.

“I wanted to be prepared,” Derek said. He might have gone a bit overboard. Stiles most likely had already gotten everything they’d need, but Derek’s need to provide for his omega had overridden that thought and Derek had ended up with three bags of food, two extra bottles of lube, and an emergency radio.

Stiles hummed and wiggled slightly closer to Derek. The movement shifted the position of his knot, and Derek’s breath caught in his throat. “What else did you bring me?” Stiles asked.

Derek cleared his throat, and started idly stroking Stiles’ side. “More food mostly. A lot of fruit. I wasn’t sure what you like, so I got a variety. Apples, nectarines, grapes, bananas, blueberries, and strawberries.”

“I like all of those, but strawberries are my favourite,” Stiles said. “When I was a kid my mom used to take me to a farm where you could pick your own. She could fill two baskets for every half I managed. We’d eat some and make jam with the rest.”

Derek was floored. He’d never heard Stiles talk about his mom before. She’d died so long ago, and Derek knew Stiles must miss her, but Derek had never been close enough to him to share that grief. “My mom likes to buy local too, but she never picks them.”

“I can’t see her having the time,” Stiles said. Derek agreed. Between her duties as an alpha, her career as a lawyer, and her family, Talia didn’t have much time to spare.

“We’d cut them up and cover them in sugar for dessert,” Derek said.

“We used to do that with rhubarb,” Stiles said, giggling a little. “If my dad wasn’t looking I’d just lick off the sugar instead of actually eating the plant.”

Derek was amazed at how easy it was from there, going back and forth, sharing memories, habits, and preferences. Even after Derek’s knot went down enough for them to separate, they stayed curled up together while they ate.

They were still talking when the next wave of Stiles’ heat hit, and they needed their mouths for kissing instead of words. But when it was over and they were tied again, Stiles picked up right where they left off.


Stiles realized his brain to mouth filter had completely vanished at some point on Friday. They had talked a lot the day before but now he was describing his vision of blanket sharks in great detail, and it really hit him that he was sharing whatever came to mind.

He didn’t really care very much, because he found Derek’s reaction to his word vomit way more interesting than his runaway mouth. Derek was laughing. Not at Stiles, like he was some freak that Derek couldn’t believe he was talking to, but as though he was genuinely amused by the image Stiles was painting and would like to hear more.

“Would blanket sharks have little pointy teeth, or soft fabric triangles?” Derek asked.

Stiles sat up, propping himself on Derek’s chest. “I don’t know, I mean, are they made of blankets as well as swimming in blankets? That seems a bit weird.”

“Maybe they’re made of pillows?” Derek offered.

“Maybe,” Stiles agreed. “Constantly eating phones and paperbacks that get lost at blanket sea.”

Derek laughed again, and his smile showed his stupidly cute bunny teeth, and that was it. Stiles just had to kiss him. He stole the laugh right out of Derek’s mouth as he licked in.

Derek slid his hands down to cup Stiles’ ass and murmured against his lips, “You need it again?”

“Not yet,” Stiles said. His heat was still a simmer under his skin at the moment. “Soon.” He wasn’t sure what the rules were, or if Derek would push him away if he kissed him during a lull. Derek didn’t say anything about the fact that they made out much longer this time before Stiles heat finally rose to unbearable and he lost himself in Derek’s touch again.


Derek couldn’t remember the last time he’d enjoyed himself so much. Nothing had ever felt as right as being buried in Stiles, but beyond that, it was the moments in between that were truly wonderful. The brief times that Stiles’ heat would recede and he’d start talking to Derek, still relaxed and pliant in his arms, unguarded but still sharp as a whip.

They talked about the most ridiculous things sometimes and other times they shared things Derek had never dared say to someone before. They talked about the world at large, and their own little corner of it. Inside their little room, Derek felt invincible.

He never wanted to leave.

He’d thought it would be enough to just have Stiles to himself once, and then it would be out of his system. He thought he could live on memories and get on with his life. Instead, as Stiles’ heat started steadily abating, Derek was filled with a sense of dread.

He didn’t want to go back to his quiet life, in his empty apartment, avoiding Scott, focusing on school, and ignoring the world until his family dragged him out into it. He couldn’t bear the thought of seeing Stiles again, and not being able to hold him. Derek tortured himself imagining Stiles alone with no one to care for him. It didn’t matter that Stiles could take care of himself, Derek wanted to provide for him because he deserved a good alpha who loved him. But that alpha wasn’t Derek, which was worse to think about than Stiles having no alpha at all.

“Derek?” Stiles reached back, searching for him.

“I’m here,” Derek said, molding himself to Stiles back and pressing a kiss just behind his ear. “You need it, baby?”

“Please,” Stiles said, more of a sigh than a word. The urgency was almost gone now, and Derek knew this would be the last time he got to knot Stiles before his heat ended completely. He was determined to savour it.

He started out right where he was, nibbling at Stiles’ earlobe and the line of his throat, while his hands roamed over smooth skin, trying to memorize every inch. Derek worked his way downward, sucking Stiles’ nipple the way he’d learned would make Stiles arch and shiver. He nuzzled along the trail of hair under Stiles’ belly button, and used his mouth to form a large bruise on Stiles’ hip. He couldn’t mark Stiles permanently, not the way he wanted, but he was determined to leave something behind. He’d be able to think of Stiles for days after and know that he’d been his.

Derek would have lingered longer, but Stiles’ moans and whines were turning desperate. He grabbed a pillow and positioned it under Stiles’ hips so he’d be more comfortable. It would probably be easier if Derek just rolled him into his stomach, but Derek wanted to see his face. He wanted one more time watching the honey colour of his eyes darken to whiskey as they clouded, to see the bow of his upper lip as he gasped with pleasure, and catch that mouth with his own.

Stiles wrapped his legs around Derek’s waist and pulled him closer. Derek lined himself up and pressed in slowly, drinking in the expressions of bliss and lust that played over Stiles’ face.

“You are so beautiful like this,” Derek murmured. “You couldn’t possibly be more perfect.” He rolled his hips in a slow savouring pace. He wished briefly that he could keep going like this forever, so he’d never have to give Stiles up.

But life didn’t work like that, and far too soon, his knot started to swell, and Stiles clenched around it. “Derek, I need to-- I can’t--”

“Okay, it’s okay Stiles, I’ll take care of you,” Derek promised. He shifted his weight to one side and forward, changing his angle so he could hit Stiles’ prostate with every thrust, while reaching between them to take Stiles in hand.

That was all Stiles needed to be coming with a shout of Derek’s name, and Derek followed soon after.

He nuzzled into Stiles’ neck, and pushed all thoughts of the future out of his mind. He had about another half hour of being knotted to Stiles. 30 minutes left of heaven before the world came crashing in.


Stiles kept his arms wrapped around Derek until there was absolutely no shadow of doubt that his knot had gone down. Stiles took stock of his body and was forced to admit that the hot tingle beneath his skin that had started Thursday morning was completely gone, and his mind was clear. His heat was over, and there was nothing left to hold Derek here.

When Stiles let go, Derek sighed, then pushed himself up and off, and sat on the edge of the bed. With the absence of his heat and Derek, Stiles felt incredibly cold. He pulled his blanket up around his shoulders, but it wasn’t the same. His whole body ached, his skin was sticky with sweat, spit, and come, and he could feel Derek’s come trickling out of his ass, and he didn’t fucking want it to.

Derek didn’t owe him anything. He’d done this as a favour to Scott, nothing more. Stiles hadn’t imagined that Derek would put his full effort into seeing him through this, that he would see to Stiles' every need and fill him in a way he'd never imagined. More than just sating his needs, he’d made Stiles feel cherished in a way that filled his heart.

Stiles hadn’t really considered Derek.

Now it was over, and Stiles felt completely and utterly empty. He wasn’t ready for it to be over, and the thought of going back to being Scott’s weird friend that Derek put up with because his mom wanted him to made Stiles eyes sting, and--

“Stiles?” Derek asked. “Are you okay?”

“Fine,” Stiles said, bringing his sheet up to quickly wipe his eyes.

“You’re crying,” Derek said, reaching out to pull the blanket away. “Did I hurt you?”

“No, no,” Stiles said quickly, pushing away as Derek advanced. “It’s just...hormones. Mine are still all out of whack. It’ll stop soon. That’s what this whole thing was for, right? Pressing the reset button on my body.”

“You’re lying,” Derek said. “Kind of. I can hear it.”

“Fucking werewolves,” Stiles muttered. Scott rarely listened closely enough to catch those things, but all the Hales did.

“Stiles, please tell me what’s wrong.” Derek was giving him that look again, like he really cared and didn’t want to see Stiles anything but perfectly happy. He’d put his hand on Stiles’ shoulder, and it was burning into him in comparison to the chill over the rest of his body.

“Don’t want you to leave,” Stiles said, and choked on more tears.

“Oh, baby,” Derek said with a soft smile. “Is that all?” He used his thumb to wipe Stiles’ cheek, then wrapped around him, tucking him against his chest. “Then I’ll stay.”

“Yeah?” Stiles asked, wincing at the horrible sniffle his nose made.

“As long as you want,” Derek promised, and pressed a kiss to Stiles’ temple.

Stiles tangled his fingers in the sheet and held his breath for a moment. “What if I never want you to leave?”

Derek shifted down to kiss Stiles soundly, then grinned at him. “Then I’ll stay forever.”


Scott wasn’t terribly upset to lose his roommate.