Stiles opened the front door and trudged into his house a little more loudly than necessary at the late hour. All in all, it was a pretty good night. He should be happy. At times, he was. It was cool that his friends all invited him out for pizza and bowling to celebrate his birthday. They were good people. He should be happy.
Congratulations, Stiles! You’ve managed to make it all the way to adulthood with your virginity in tact. Way to go!
Stiles shook his fist in the air in a show of sarcastic victory to absolutely no one.
No, it wasn’t slightly irritating to watch Scott and Kira being so cute together all night. He didn’t mind that Lydia apparently found everyone more appealing than she did him. Hey, even the girl from a family of freaking werewolf hunters found another werewolf to date. Why should it bother Stiles that absolutely no one in Beacon Hills had any interest in him? Even Danny gave him weird looks when he asked him if he was cute.
Stiles strode up the stairs and into his bedroom. He jumped and slammed the door shut behind him with his back when out of the corner of his eye he saw someone sitting on his bed.
“Holy shit, Derek! What the fuck? Can’t you use doors like normal people?” Stiles sputtered while his heart pounded. “You scared the shit out of me!”
Derek stood up and shrugged, his face expressionless like usual. “It was late. I didn’t want to bother your dad.”
Stiles roughed a hand through his hair and messed it. “He isn’t home. Seriously, dude, you need to chill with the creepy lurker shit. I almost had a heart attack.”
“Sorry,” Derek said flatly, staring intensely at Stiles.
Stiles cocked his head and sighed, walking into his room and flopping down into his desk chair. “Uh, OK. So…?”
The words hung in the air and Derek stood silent with his hands in his pockets.
“OK,” Stiles said, stifling an incredulous laugh. “Why were you hiding in my room waiting for me? Lay it on me, what do you need me to do to help you defeat whatever… horrifying monster that’s going to kill me and all of my friends?”
Derek blinked. “What?”
Stiles squinted his eyes. Why did Derek have to be so closed off? He swore that actual wolves were probably better at expressing themselves.
“That’s why you’re here, isn’t it? Because there is another terrifying creature in Beacon Hills on a killing spree? And you need me to use my fancy computer to look something up for you? Can we move this along, maybe? A little less with the one word answer Derek-speak? Because I’ve had a really long night and I’m pretty tired and I kind of want to get some sleep, if that would be OK with you.”
Derek lifted his head back and raised his eyebrows. “I came to say Happy Birthday.” His voice dropped a little lower and he muttered, “I wasn’t invited to your party.”
Stiles face was a mess of confusion. He was surprised Derek even knew when his birthday was, let alone cared. Sure, Derek was kind of a creeper and probably knew more about everyone in Beacon Hills than he let on, but Stiles’ birthday? Really?
“Oh,” Stiles said with an exhale. “Well, uh, it wasn’t like it was some meeting of Super Team Supernatural or something, which if it was, I can assure you that they would have shot you a text. It was just my friends and I eating pizza and bowling, dude. I’m surprised you didn’t know where we were, since you’re always so good at appearing places. Hey, kind of like you just did!”
Derek’s eyes dropped and Stiles leaned forward in his chair, trying to read the incredibly unreadable older man. Was the sourwolf that seemed to hate everything fun actually sad he didn’t get invited to a birthday party? Seriously?
“If they had invited me, I would have come you know,” Derek said quietly. “I’m your friend, too, aren’t I?”
Stiles stood and slowly took a step toward Derek, who seemed fused in place. “I appreciate that, I really do, but… maybe everyone figured that bowling and greasy pizza isn’t really your thing.” He took a deep breath. Derek thought of him as his friend? Since when? “I didn’t know we were, you know, friends, exactly. I thought it was more like, you slam me into walls, growl at me to shut up and give me those angry I’m-gonna-wolf-out-on-your-irritating-ass faces kind of thing. In between us saving each other’s lives while we fight the bad guys and stuff. Of course.”
Derek lifted his head and their eyes met. Suddenly, Stiles felt a weird sort of tension. Something was off, he didn’t know what, but Derek was confusing him and he was starting to feel really uncomfortable.
“OK, you’re gonna need to actually say something because I don’t read minds and right now I feel like I’m missing something. So, can you please tell me what’s going on?”
Stiles scratched the back of his neck and shifted his weight back and forth on his feet. He didn’t know what to do with himself. He felt so awkward, and Derek just stared at him.
Stiles hated long, awkward silences, but he swore Derek enjoyed them more than almost anything. Like they fueled his angsty, wolfy powers or something.
“So…” Derek started, letting the word hang in the air for a moment. “You’re eighteen now.”
Stiles brushed his hand over his forehand and blinked, hard. Was this Derek’s attempt at small talk? Why? Just why?
“Uh, yeah. That was the reason for all the fanfare tonight. Stiles is an adult now. Wooo…” He waved a finger in the air lamely.
Derek nodded and took a few steps toward Stiles and stopped when he entered Stiles’ personal space. Stiles stumbled back, a hand falling to his desk chair to try to regain his balance. The chair began to spin and Stiles started to fall. Derek grabbed his elbow and straightened him back up.
Stiles swallowed hard and glanced down to his elbow. Derek still had his hand wrapped around his arm and was standing very, extremely, totally unnecessarily close to him. He knew Derek could hear his heart racing, and he sucked his lower lip into his mouth.
Derek was handsome, of course Stiles thought he was, he did have eyes after all. But, he’s always figured that Derek simply tolerated him, kind of like a best friend’s annoying and hyperactive little brother. Stiles had wasted so many years pining after it’s-never-gonna-happen Lydia, and when he’d met Derek he had what he thought was the maturity, sense, lesson learned, something to shove Derek neatly into a special little category of not in a million years.
It didn’t mean that Stiles didn’t think about him sometimes, or maybe a lot of times, when he was by himself in his room. Hey, it was natural to think about hot guys and, you know. It’s not like he was the only one that did it. It’s not like he ever expected Derek to kiss him, date him, do… whatever it was that broody werewolves that lived in sort of creepy lofts with their equally creepy uncles did. It was like a crush on that hot guy in your favorite band. Maybe you had fantasies about them, but it’s not like you ever thought anything would realistically happen.
And yet, here Derek was, in his room. Standing so, so close to him. Holding him by the arm for really no reason. Stiles knew what he would be thinking about tonight. Oh god, he needed to not think about it right now.
Derek inhaled and took another step toward Stiles, closing the little space that was left between them so their bodies touched. His grip on Stiles’ elbow was firm, but he tugged it gently, pressing Stiles against him.
“Have you thought about what you want?”
Stiles swallowed hard. Why was Derek sniffing him like that? Could he smell something on him? Something other than pepperoni and maybe the spray from those gross rental shoes he’d been wearing? Why was he standing so damn close to him? What was up with the whole, arm holding thing?
“Um,” Stiles sputtered, his brain getting slightly mushy from super hot Derek being more than a little close to him. “You mean like, for my birthday? D-do you want to buy me a present or something?”
Derek chuckled softly and Stiles jerked his head to look at his face. He couldn’t remember ever hearing a genuine laugh come from him. He was dumbfounded.
“No. I mean with your life.”
A very slight smile stuck on Derek’s face, but Stiles’ mouth hung open.
“With my… life? You mean, like, college?”
Stiles blinked and then returned Derek’s stare. This was, single handedly, the most bizarre conversation he had ever had. And considering he has had friends turn into all kinds of random supernatural beings over the past few years, that said a lot.
Derek brushed a hand into Stiles hair, switching his eyes to watch as he played with the messy brown stands. “Not exactly.”
A shiver ran down Stiles’ spine and his eyes closed involuntarily. Derek had touched him before, sure. He was used to Derek slamming him against lockers and walls, even the occasional steering wheel. But, not like this. Never like this. This was… gentle. And really, really weird. Oh, god, it felt good. But, what the fuck?
“Well, um, what then?”
Derek’s hand dipped from Stiles’ hair and down to his face and he dragged his finger tips lightly over Stiles’ cheek.
“I mean, have you thought about a mate?”
Stiles opened his eyes. He couldn’t exactly back away, he was stuck between a very muscular werewolf and his desk chair, not that he wanted to, no.
Wow, he really looks great in that green shirt.
“Um, is that like, some kind of werewolf thing?”
Derek smiled again and skimmed his fingers under Stiles’ chin, tipping his head up so he could look into his eyes.
“Yeah. Kind of. So what do you think?”
“Um…” Stiles faltered, his head spinning. “I’m, uh, not a werewolf, so… I don’t think about…mates. Actually, I mean, I don’t think even Scott, or Issac, I mean, I’m pretty sure they see their girlfriends as, you know, girlfriends…”
“They don’t. Turned or not, they still want a mate.”
“So you’re saying that Scott wants Kira to be his mate?”
“Possibly,” he said with a slight shrug.
“And Issac and Allison will be mates? Oh, her father will love that…” the teen rolled his eyes.
“I don’t know about them.”
Stiles raised an eyebrow.
“Nothing, it’s not my business, I just don’t think they really have chemistry,” he said dismissively.
“But, you think we have chemistry? You can barely stand me!”
“We both know we do.”
“What gave you the idea that I think that? Or, that I even like you?”
Derek let go of Stiles’ elbow and gently placed it on his chest over his heart.
“There are parts of you that are even louder than your mouth. Besides that, I can smell it on you,” he explained with a devilish grin.
“You can smell what on me?” Stiles asked quizzically.
Derek cocked an eyebrow.
“Oh…” Stiles looked down. “Oh.”
Stiles glanced back up, a blush slowly creeping across his cheeks. “But, um, I’m sure all you can smell now is pepperoni and shoe spray… right?”
Derek dipped his face down and gently rubbed his nose against Stiles’ neck. He inhaled slowly and his lips ghosted over Stiles’ sensitive skin. “Underneath all of that, it’s still you.”
Stiles shivered and placed a hand onto Derek’s arm. He couldn’t believe Derek was this close to him, Derek’s lips were just barely touching him, he was breathing against his neck and it sent tingles all through his body.
“I don’t… I don’t know why I would be thinking about a mate, when I’m human and all of my werewolf friends are… very taken…”
“You really don’t think of me as a friend?” Derek said softly, just his words and his breath, god his breath is hot, made Stiles melt.
Derek is talking about himself. He is asking me if I’ve thought about being his mate. Oh my god.
“I do think of you as a friend,” he licked his lips, “but, I thought, I thought I drove you crazy.”
Derek buried his face into Stiles’ neck and Stiles’ legs went weak. Without any hesitation, he slung an arm around the teen’s waist to hold him up and pulled him against himself.
“You do drive me crazy, in a lot of ways.”
Stiles could feel Derek smiling against his neck.
“I’m so confused. Are you… are you asking me to be your boyfriend? Or, is this like, a sex thing?”
Derek lifted his face from Stiles’ neck and chuckled. “No, not really. In a way, maybe, but it’s more than that.”
“Are you asking me to marry you?” Stiles’ eyes widened and his mouth gaped.
“Mates are more than marriage. When you choose a mate, it’s forever. There’s no, there’s no divorce or anything like that.”
“What if I changed my mind?”
“But, what if I did?”
“How can you possibly know that?”
“When you mate with someone, it’s a bond. You become a part of each other. You wouldn’t want to leave. You’d need me as much as I needed you,” his voice dropped to a whisper and he ran his finger tips across Stiles’ neck.
The implications of what Derek was saying were so heavy, Stiles didn’t know what to do with them. If he was being completely honest, he had never even pictured himself getting married, he hadn’t even been able to land a boyfriend or girlfriend yet. Now, here was so-gorgeous-it-should-be-obvious-to-both-of-us-he’s-out-of-my-league Derek Hale, going on about some sort of forever bond. He had to be drunk or something.
Can werewolves even get drunk???
“Have you… have you had mates before?” Stiles stalled, trying to get some of the blood back to his brain instead of, uh, elsewhere. He didn’t really want to bring up Derek’s past, but let’s face it, they both knew he’d had some pretty intense relationships that went really, really wrong.
“No. I considered it. But, I never went through with it.”
Sure, one died, another murdered his family and burned down his home…
“So, I’m like your third choice? Fourth choice? What?”
“It was meant to be you.”
“But, the others…”
“I didn’t go through with it, because it wasn’t what my wolf wanted. I didn’t know why, until I met you,” Derek confessed.
“And, your wolf wants me?”
Derek nodded solemnly.
“You sure have a funny way of showing it.” Stiles snorted softly.
“Do you have any idea how hard it’s been for me? You were sixteen when we met, Stiles. I was… frustrated.” He sighed and shook his head. “It’s something I struggled with, you were too young and your father is the Sheriff. It wasn’t exactly the easiest situation to go about courting a mate.”
“So, you’re saying you were a cranky sourwolf for two years because you…”
“I was dealing with a lot of shit, and then I met some obnoxious teenager that never shuts up…”
“And I couldn’t get you out of my head,” he confessed, dragging a finger mindlessly over Stiles’ collarbone.
“Is this why you are always following us around and showing up everywhere? Were you stalking me?” Stiles asked, trying to keep his tone from being accusatory as best as he could. It’s not like he minded if maybe a really hot guy was following him around. He could have done a lot worse in the obsessive creeper department, right?
“I wasn’t stalking you. I didn’t want you to be far from me because I wanted to protect you.”
“Hey, I’ve saved your ass a few times, too,” Stiles said with a small grin, gently poking a finger against Derek’s chest.
“I know you did,” Derek murmured, brushing a hand up into Stiles’ hair.
“Then why didn’t you say something to me? Why not tell me after I spent a night holding you up in a pool so you didn’t drown or get slaughtered by a Kanima in some epic display of romance how totally crazy you are about me? You sit in my room and wait for me to come home from bowling?”
“You don’t think this is romantic?” Derek asked him seriously.
Stiles couldn’t help but laugh, and he dropped his head against Derek’s chest.
OK maybe it was romantic…
“No, yeah, it is. In a way only you could pull off…” Stiles said, snuggling his face into Derek’s chest.
I’m snuggling with Derek. His arms are around me. What the fuck just happened?
“So…” Derek ran a hand up Stile’s back, into his hair and cupped the back of his head. “What do you think?”
Stiles lifted his head and stared into Derek’s eyes. What did he think? An hour ago he was bowling with his friends, thinking if his life got any crazier, it would be because Allison got turned into some sort of supernatural something, or because they had to fight off some other monster… but, never in a million years did he plan for or expect this kind of crazy.
Stiles, you want him. You know you like him. Tell him. He’s more fragile than you and you know it. Say something.
How was he supposed to answer this? Out of no where, Derek was asking him if, if he wanted to spend the rest of his life with him? He was having a hard enough time deciding what ring tone he should set for Scott.
“Um…” he stammered, “what do your wolfy, spidey senses tell you?”
Derek gazed into Stiles’ eyes with a kind of longing the teen had never seen, especially not directed at him. He dropped a hand down to the small of Stiles’ back and pressed their lower bodies together. Stiles stifled a moan and watched with wonder as Derek smiled in a sweet way that he sincerely didn’t know the man was capable of.
“I need to hear you say it, Stiles. It’s not something I can just take from you.”
“Take? What, what would you, what would I have to do?”
Stiles couldn’t stop licking his lips.
“I’d have to bite you,” Derek said in a whisper.
For a moment, disappointment clouded the teen’s face.
“Derek… I don’t want to be a werewolf. Peter, he offered and I told him no. I don’t… oh god…”
Great. You were ten seconds from having the man of your dreams, and now you’re going to lose him. Great work there, Stiles.
“No.” Derek brought his other hand to Stiles’ face. “It’s a claiming bite. It won’t turn you. It will bind us, but it won’t make you my beta, if it works, it will make you my mate.” He cocked his head, “You trust me, don’t you?”
Stiles breathed a sigh of relief. That didn’t sound so bad. He wasn’t exactly thrilled at the idea of a bite, let alone one with those werewolf teeth, but he knew that Derek was an honorable guy, he wouldn’t lie about something so serious.
“What do you mean by if it works? If you bite someone and they don’t turn… they die…”
Derek was still smiling, that had to be a good sign. Maybe death was off the table?
“If you don’t really want to be my mate, your body will reject the bite, it won’t work. It would heal with time and we wouldn’t be joined. But…” Derek tipped his head and touched his forehead to Stiles’, “I’m not really worried about that happening, your body rejecting the bite. Are you?”
Their breath mingled together and Stiles’ entire body felt like it was buzzing in anticipation for something.
“N-no,” Stiles whispered. He couldn’t think of anything he wanted more at that moment.
It was then that Derek’s lips finally made contact with Stiles’. They were warm and slick and they tasted… fucking delicious. The teen had had a few kisses before, but nothing compared to this. Not Lydia, not anything. Maybe… maybe until right now Stiles didn’t know what passion and real want, the kind that’s so deep in your gut it’s driven by instinct, really was. This felt so right that it seemed insane to him that he’d even questioned it just moments before. It wasn’t awkward like his previous kisses, his body was on autopilot, following Derek’s lead, and somehow he just knew what to do.
Slowly, Derek began to guide Stiles across the room to his bed. It was fluid and graceful and so very counter to the clumsy teen’s usual movements. How he managed to make it to the bed without stumbling, all the while locked in a deep kiss with the most gorgeous man he had ever seen was something he couldn’t explain.
The more Derek kissed him, the looser his muscles felt. Like his body was drunk with need or lust or something. There was no tension, no resistance. It was like Derek was a puppeteer, gently pulling strings, helping Stiles follow along with him. It was almost as if Stiles’ brain could just go on hiatus and enjoy, because every other part of him seemed to know what Derek wanted and was graciously following his lead.
He wondered idly for a moment if the kiss alone had effected him. Was it because they really were mates? Could a werewolf’s kiss, did it have power he didn’t know about?
Derek’s tongue slid across his as they kissed deeply and the man’s stubble rubbed against his face as Stiles was lowered down onto the bed and Derek climbed on top of him, never breaking the kiss. Stiles had never thought of himself as being this way in bed, so passive and yielding. But any urge to be aggressive had disappeared. All he wanted was to be as close to Derek as possible, to please him, to connect with him and be bonded to him.
Derek gently pulled away from their kiss, his body hovering on top of Stiles’ on the bed. He brushed his nose against the teens and then gazed down at him with a knowing look.
“How do you feel?” He asked, cupping Stiles’ face with his hand.
Stiles’ mewed and writhed ever so slightly on the bed, already missing Derek’s tongue in his mouth. He licked his lips and lifted his hips into Derek, trying to focus and form words.
“I’ve never felt like this before,” he murmured. “What’s happening to me?”
Derek smiled. There was a brightness in the man’s eyes that Stiles had never seen before. It so beautiful and so genuine it took his breath away. He leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to Stiles’ lips and then whispered into his ear, “It’s because you’re my true mate. Your body is adjusting to accept me, it knows what to do, just relax and let it happen.”
Derek nibbled on Stiles’ earlobe, and the teen wrapped his arms around him.
“OK,” he said, still struggling to push words out. “S’all good… so good…”
The werewolf licked down his neck, nibbling softly on his so-much-more-sensitive-than-before skin. Stiles’ eyes rolled back and he moaned. He had no intention, no desire to fight it, but it felt like his body was melting, turning to Jello. The little bites Derek placed made something burn deep in the pit of his stomach.
God, I want him to fucking bite me.
Stiles couldn’t think of anything in the moment that could be more satisfying. He wanted Derek to bite him even more than he wanted him to touch his dick, which was leaking so much precum he was sure the front of his pants were wet now. He’d never felt so aroused in his life, and yet he was complacent in letting Derek do whatever, nibble, lick, kiss, touch, it didn’t matter. It was uncharacteristic patience. It wasn’t like Stiles to be so subdued.
Derek leaned back and pulled off Stiles’ shirt, then his own. The teen couldn’t take his eyes off those pecs, those abs, Derek was fucking hot and Stiles thanked whatever it was that made the man want him.
Derek seemed as mesmerized by Stiles’ body as he was by the older man’s, and he traced his fingers lightly over the teen’s chest. He rubbed a thumb over his nipple and Stiles fucking purred. The gentle touches felt like whispers over his skin, and each time Derek stroked his body, he felt himself relax even more. Even the best massage in the world couldn’t compare to what this man could apparently do with a few kisses, nibbles and those fingers.
Stiles had never seen Derek look so satisfied with himself. The more docile and relaxed Stiles became, the more pleased Derek seemed. Stiles wondered if Derek was running on instincts as much as he was, or if he consciously knew what buttons to press to turn Stiles to mush.
He dropped down again then, kissing Stiles again. Stiles opened his mouth dutifully, eagerly, swathing his tongue into the man’s mouth and tasting him again.
Why does he taste so good?
He couldn’t get enough. It was better than curly fries, Pepsi or cheeseburgers. It was more intoxicating than any of the liquor he’d swiped from his dad. This, this had to be what they meant when they said you could be drunk with lust. It wasn’t the aggressive I’m-going-to-throw-you-on-the-bed-and-fuck-your-brains-out kind of thing he’d pictured before. This was a high like anything he couldn’t really describe.
And then Derek’s chest made contact with Stiles’ and something happened. The heat of it, the skin to skin contact, the freaking luxurious softness and warmth from the werewolf against him, it did something to Stiles.
“Oh, oh no, fuck,” He whimpered as he felt a glob of something leak out him.
What the fuck was that?
Stiles didn’t have time to be embarrassed or worry about all of the potentially humiliating things that could have just happened.
No, he didn’t.
Because it was at that very moment that Derek fucking growled. Stiles felt it start deep in the man’s chest, and as it rumbled out of him, there was something, something like a buzzing in Stiles’ head.
Stiles felt a little dizzy then, vertigo, something. He reached a hand up and grasped Derek’s upper arm, needing to somehow stabilize himself, ground himself.
Derek shut his eyes and took in a long, slow, almost calculated breath. He seemed on the edge of man and wolf at that moment, teetering between human and animalistic.
“Remember what I said about chemistry?” He asked, opening his eyes and looking down at Stiles’. “This is what I was talking about.”
Stiles didn’t feel like he could speak, he just gave the man hovering above him a slight nod.
“It’s real, Stiles, and this is what it does,” he murmured, grinding himself then into the teen beneath him.
The way the man said his name, it made his heart feel light. It was the best sound in the world, and it made him feel so fucking special.
And when he felt Derek press against him, felt his hardness against his own, it happened again. More this time. Something was happening, something they never covered in any health class or even through the sex education he gave himself through porn.
Derek growled again, much more loudly this time, and he sat up with purpose. For as soft as Stiles had gotten all over his body, save his dick, it seemed the opposite had happened to Derek. His muscles were tense, his body was hard, there was a fervor to his movements that Stiles couldn’t even hope to match. All Stiles wanted to do was lay there and offer himself to Derek, open up for him.
All he could do was watch as Derek got up and started to strip off the remainder of his clothing. He found himself feeling a little lost, missing the contact, his taste, his hands on his body, the warm feeling of safe with Derek’s body hovering over his own.
Derek never took his eyes off Stiles as he undressed, he had a knowing look on his face that told the teen that Derek understood Stiles needed him.
And then Stiles saw his fucking magnificent cock. Thick and several inches longer than his own, the dark hair around it trimmed to a length that made him look so masculine and beautiful at the same time. So fucking perfect, and Stiles was going to have it.
Derek came back to him then, dropping one fleeting kiss onto his lips before getting to work on Stiles’ jeans and bright blue boxer briefs. He pulled them off and Stiles was wet, so fucking wet and when the air hit him he slammed his eyes shut.
“Don’t be…” Derek started, pausing to choose his words carefully, situating himself between Stiles’ legs and dancing his fingers up and down the teen’s thighs. “This is normal, for you, for us… it’s… because you’re with me.”
Stiles sucked his lower lip into his mouth. Whatever it was, it wasn’t stopping. Derek didn’t seem grossed out, quite the opposite really, and Stiles tried to push the strangeness of what was happening to his body out of his mind.
One of Derek’s hands made its way between Stiles’ legs and, involuntarily, really, the teen’s legs just parted. Derek traced one finger lightly over Stiles’ wet, virgin hole, and again he growled and again, Stiles felt dizzy.
“Your body is reacting to me, adjusting for me,” he murmured, tracing his finger in a slow circle around his entrance. “It’s because you want to be mine.”
Stiles moaned and tried to reach for Derek. His arm felt heavy and it dropped lamely onto the bed. Derek lowered himself and grasped Stiles hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. The acknowledgment satisfied Stiles for the moment, and Derek released him then, pressing the teen’s legs back and lowering his face to his hole, his stubble scraping against Stiles’ as he got himself comfortable.
Another growl, and then there was his tongue, licking and lapping at his hole, tasting whatever the slick was that his body was now producing. Derek seemed as intoxicated by it as Stiles had been from their kisses, and as his tongue slipped inside the teen he wondered if Derek had shifted, his enthusiasm decidedly animalistic.
He growled again, and Stiles felt it reverberate through his body. He opened up more, his legs, his body, his hole that was full of Derek’s tongue. Each growl that came from the man was met with a “Yes Sir” from Stiles’ body.
And then, for a moment, he was empty. He felt it and he whined pitifully, until Derek’s finger gently rubbed against his entrance.
“Relax,” he reminded the teen, though unnecessarily, “It’ll be OK.”
Stiles nodded and mumbled incoherently as Derek gently pressed his index finger inside of him. He felt a rush of warmth, but it was nothing like sensations he’d felt when he’d tried to do it himself. He was slick, relaxed, open. The finger didn’t feel like an invasion, more like it was attempting to fill an emptiness.
“Does that feel good?” Derek asked, working his finger slowly inside of him.
Stiles shook his head yes, and Derek smirked. “Good,” he murmured, as he worked in a second finger.
Stiles lifted his hips a little, finding a bit of a rhythm with Derek’s ministrations. A third finger, Stiles realized. This wasn’t at all how Stiles had expected his first time with a man would be.
Derek continued for a few minutes, his fingers hooking, pressing, exploring. Making precum pool onto Stiles’ belly.
He pulled his hand away, and again Stiles whined. It was like a hurt, like he’d abandoned him, like he’d taken away something Stiles desperately needed.
“Please,” he whimpered, “please don’t stop.”
Derek climbed over him, his hard dick pressing against Stiles’ as he covered him with his body.
“Stiles,” He murmured, and the teen preened at the sound of his name again. “Once I start this, I won’t be able to stop.”
“I don’t want you to stop,” he said softly, seriously. “I want this, Derek. Please.”
He wanted to say so much more. He wanted to tell Derek how he couldn’t believe that Derek had chosen him out of all the people out there. That it would shatter him if Derek changed his mind. That he needed this more than anything he’d ever needed in his life now. That he would die inside if he got this close and had it taken away from him.
But his brain was fuzzy and for once, Stiles was a man of few words.
Derek shifted his body and pulled back some, making Stile’s chest heave upward and then fall in an attempt to make contact again.
Derek stroked himself a few times, and then Stiles felt his the head of that fucking glorious cock against his wet hole.
And then, finally, as if everything in Stiles’ life had been just a prelude to this moment, Derek began to press inside of him.
Stiles saw stars then, and that burning heat radiated through him. Stars, more stars. He forced his eyes to stay open so he could watch the man above him. He looked like he was inside of his own head, too, the intensity of this overwhelming him as well.
He pushed in deeper, and then his face was over Stiles’ again. He didn’t move, just let the teen beneath him acclimate to his presence, and he stared into Stiles’ eyes with a profound level of emotion. It was so different from what Derek was around everyone else. It was raw, and human, and beautiful.
Stiles started back at him and he realized that what he had, what he was seeing at that moment was so fucking special, something that it was unlikely anyone else had ever witnessed with Derek. He was a man that had been hurt, that had lost everything, everyone ever cared about, that had been manipulated and exploited, that had been broken over and over. But he wasn’t the emotionless-besides-anger prick that people saw him as now. He was someone that had been scarred and was protecting himself. Because feeling things, feeling anything besides the anger he showed everyone else, made him vulnerable.
But, Derek saw something in Stiles that Stiles hadn’t realized he did until then. He trusted Stiles. He knew Stiles was loyal, had honor, would risk his own life to protect those that he loved. His wolf didn’t just pick Stiles, his human had, too.
Stiles lifted a hand and brushed it over Derek’s cheek.
“You are my friend.” He whispered. “I would do anything for you, you know. I love you.”
Derek dropped his head and his nose brushed against Stiles, his lips grazing against Stiles’.
“I love you, too,” he said breathlessly against the teen’s lips. “So fucking much.”
And then he started to move, slowly at first, grinding and pressing inside of Stiles, whose fingers twisted into his hair.
The usually quiet man whispered a string of sweet nothings to the teen beneath him, just as gripped and overwhelmed with emotion as the former virgin he was making love to.
It was blissful and almost perfect, but after some time, Stiles began to grow antsy. He needed more, something was missing.
And he realized it wasn’t a hand on his dick, but a bite. The bite. He was ready. More than ready, he needed it.
“Derek,” he mewled, “please, make me yours.”
The older man growled, and the room shook. Stiles didn’t care if the neighbors heard, if they called the police, if his father found him being blissfully fucked by a werewolf in his bed. The man’s growl just made him need it more, and his fingers dug into his back.
“Please,” he begged.
And Derek’s face was at the apex of his neck and shoulder then, mouthing over him, his lips, his tongue, his teeth searching for the perfect place to make his mark. To claim Stiles and make him his forever.
When Stiles felt the bite, he wailed and tears fell from his eyes. It was a blurry mix of shocking pain and ecstasy. Something burned through his veins, and he felt it. Something about him was changing. His head felt like it was whirling and just the heat was so breathtaking, it was a twist of pleasure and hurt, but a good hurt, a healing hurt. A fucking empowering hurt.
And he came, and he howled, like he was something other than just human, but a werewolf’s mate.
Derek had quickened his pace, driving desperately into Stiles, on the edge himself, with his teeth buried into the young man that was now his mate .
Stiles was in a heady, blissful state, and at first he didn’t notice the swell pressing against his hole. Derek’s movements were becoming more frenzied, and then it clicked.
That’s his knot. He’s going to knot me. It’s real.
He tried to collect himself, remind himself that as Derek had said, his body had prepared itself for him. And it had. And the bite, it was effecting him. He wasn’t being turned into a werewolf, but it was clear, very clear, that his body had accepted Derek’s claiming bite, and his body was shifting, changing, adapting to accept his mate.
And then, finally, Derek’s knot was inside him. Everything went black for a few moments, and then it was euphoria. The man on top of him was growling, groaning, finally letting go.
He came, more than Stiles, more than any human could. He filled his mate with ropes of hot cum, and Stiles felt another wave of warmth rush over him.
He couldn’t possibly feel more like he belonged to Derek than he did then, and it was so deeply satisfying he could cry.
Derek detached himself from Stiles’ neck and kissed the mark he’d made. The tension had left his muscles and his body had finally relaxed like Stiles. He’d completed what he’d set out to do, he’d claimed his mate. Finally.
He shifted their bodies gently, and turned them so he could spoon behind Stiles. Stiles was warm and lax in his arms, and he grazed his finger tips over the mark he’d made. He hugged Stiles against himself then, exhaling and relishing in the peace that was rushing over him.
Stiles grabbed onto Derek’s hand, holding it against his chest and smiling to himself. He felt so full, so complete with Derek knotted to him. It was an expression of love and intimacy that truthfully he’d never thought he would have.
Derek couldn’t stop himself from kissing and licking at the mark he’d made on Stiles. It was beautiful, and it made his wolf preen.
“You like that, huh?” Stiles said softly, breaking the silence.
“Mmm,” Derek murmured, nosing his ear, “you’re mine.”
Stiles shivered and Derek pulled him impossibly close. It was mind-blowing and exciting, but still so overwhelming. Derek’s verbal claim of him touched on something, and it felt so fulfilling in such a deep way.
“Are you mine, too?” Stiles asked, not so sure how this werewolf stuff worked.
In between licks and kisses on his mark, Derek said with a slight smile, “Yes. But, I really have been since I met you trespassing on my property two years ago.”
“You’ve really liked me that long?” Stiles asked, still struggling to believe it was all real.
“Mmhmm” he said, dropping little kisses that made Stiles toes curl. “I might have thought you were adorable.”
“Even though I’m a handful?” Stiles asked.
“Because you’re a handful. And cute. And the most sincere and loyal person I’ve ever met.”
Stiles grinned. “Well, I thought you were really hot.”
Derek chuckled and rubbed his nose against his mark. “I know. I could smell it.”
“Your arousal,” Derek admitted.
“Well, that should make things interesting now that we’re, you know.”
“Mmm,” Derek said with a smile, “I plan to take full advantage of it in the future.”
“I’m really, really OK with that. Just so you know.”
“Good,” Derek laughed, snuggling closer to his mate.
“What happens now?” Stiles asked, needing some sort of understanding of how things would be now that everything in his world had been turned on its head.
“Now, every night, I’ll come through your window and stay the night with you,” Derek started. “We’re mates, it will be intolerable for either of us to spend the night apart. And I’ll worry about you. I know you can handle yourself, but I can’t help it, it’s instinct. I’ll need to be with you when you’re sleeping, when you’re vulnerable, so I can protect you.”
Stiles nodded, that didn’t sound so bad, and Derek continued, “After you graduate, you’ll come to live with me full time. We’ll figure things out from there.”
Stiles raised an eyebrow at that. “I’m not really feeling the whole, living in a loft with your uncle who has done some pretty messed up things to my friends thing…”
Derek laughed again and kissed Stiles’ neck. “We’ll get our own place. You’ll insist on picking out the perfect place then.”
“I will?” Stiles asked, not so sure he really cared where they lived, as long as it wasn’t anything as awful as the places Derek usually picked.
“Yeah, you will,” he said softly nuzzling into Stiles and imagining how frenzied he’ll be when he starts nesting. He smiled at the thought, feeling so complete and so at peace that nothing could taint the joy he was feeling. Finally, he felt something other than anger and apathy. Stiles had brought back the light in him. “We’ll talk about it later. Just trust me.”
Stiles let it go, deciding that maybe Derek had horrible taste, and considering his track record that was a real possibility, and pressed his back against the older man’s chest. Derek was still inside of him, still filling him with warmth, and he knew that he could get used to this knotting thing. He thought he might have to ask Derek to fuck him again after his knot went down, because he wasn’t sure the powerful craving he had to be filled would be sated by then.
But, for the moment, his eyes felt heavy. What they’d done, the mating, had left him exhausted.
Amazing you can get so exhausted just from laying there like a werewolf fuck toy.
No, nope, not the time to think about that. Later, when he’s more awake and he can relish in it.
“Stiles?” his mate whispered.
Stiles grinned and squeezed Derek’s hand gently. “Thanks for making it my best.”
Derek splayed his hand over Stiles’ abdomen, his face resting against the teen just so that his breath would ghost over his claiming bite while they napped.
Everything had changed, but everything was finally as it should be.