Author's Notes:

I wrote this for a prompt over at the Teen Wolf Kink Livejournal, its unbeta'd as I've not really done this sort of thing before and didn't really know anyone to ask. The prompt was: Blind Stiles

Disclaimers and such: NC-17, Hurt/Comfort, I don't know how old the characters are supposed to be in the tv show, so it is possible this includes underage sex depending on Stiles age, occurs after season one, I own nothing but if I could, it'd be Stiles. I'm not making any money off this, just getting it out of my head and on paper.

Some things go terribly wrong. It doesn't matter how much planning you do or how careful you are. Sometimes things don't end neatly with a happily ever after stamped on the bottom. When Stiles threw the first makeshift firebomb and the Alpha caught it, he thought he was going to have a panic attack, he thought they were going to die, but Allison managed to shatter the glass with an incredible display of skill with her bow. The enraged creature rushed forward after her, but Scott moved to get in the way, terrified for his friend Stiles moved up right when Jackson threw the second firebomb. That's when everything went to hell.

The monstrous Alpha tried to smash the glass beaker away with an arm that had already become an inferno. Fiery shards of glass hit Stiles in the face and he cried out and fell. The world was gone; all there was left for Stiles was white hot agony. He cried out and flailed about trying to rub his face into the soft earth outside the charred remains of the Hale house.

"Stiles! Stiles hold still!" someone called out.

He wanted to answer but all he could do was continue to rub his face into the ground praying that it would stop; all he wanted was for the burning to stop, for someone to make it stop.

"Derek what are you doing!" another panicked voice shouted.

"What I have to do." Derek replied.

That was the last thing Stiles remembered hearing. Derek's voice, so cold, so full of… fear? He wasn't sure, then something crashed into the back of his head, and finally blissfully the burning pain faded away.

When Stiles awoke the pain was there, but it was faint and fuzzy, almost like it was someone else's. It was nothing compared to the fear that engulfed his chest when he realized that there were no lights on in the room he was in. He raised his hands to his face and felt his head was wrapped in bandages, his eyes were covered.

"Don't touch them Stiles." Scott said, his subdued voice from somewhere off to his left.

"What happened?" Stiles asked, though he was afraid to know the answer.

"You got hurt, really badly" his friend replied, his voice still sounded so small, so afraid.

Stiles sighed resisted the urge to rub at his eyes under the bandages. He was terrified; he had so many questions he wanted to ask. What had happened to the Alpha? What had happened to Derek? Was everyone else ok? Was Lydia ok? He needed to know, needed it more than air, needed it so that he wasn't focused on what had happened to him, and needed it so that his fear wouldn't consume him.

"Did we win? Are we like super heroes now?" he asked, trying to keep his voice from wavering.

"Yeah… we won." Scott said, his voice sounded closer.

"Is everyone ok?" he asked.

"They will be, as soon as you get better…" the words hung in the air, like a prayer Scott had sent out to someone on his behalf.

Stiles choked back a sob, as he felt fingers lace through his own. He knew. He knew it in his heart, with everything he was, he wasn't going to get better, he was blind, and there was nothing Scott could do to fix it.

Derek sat quietly in the corner of the hospital room, watching the boy under the sheets twist and turn, sweat pouring off him, thrashing about like he was in the midst of a horrible nightmare. His heart ached, he stood up and walked over to the boy's shaking body and placed a hand on his head.

"Mom…" the boy cried in his sleep and Derek felt tears spring into his own eyes. He placed his other hand on Stile's chest and leaned down to whisper into his ear.

"You're going to be ok Stiles, I promise."

Stiles suddenly jerked awake and Derek didn't flinch when the boy's hands latched onto him, fingernails nearly clawing into the skin on his arms as the boy clung to him. His breathing was erratic, and he was still shaking.

"Who's there?" Stiles said, and his fingers slid up the arm and over Derek's face, rubbing through the stubble on his jaw. "Derek?" It was a whisper of disbelief.

"I'm here" he said and let the boy feel his face. "Calm down, you're safe."

He breathed a sigh of relief as Stiles's breathing returned to normal. The boy's scent went from spiked panic to a less acrid form of fear. He rubbed soothing circles on the kid's chest and wiped the sweat from his forehead.

"I'm blind" Stiles said. Trying to keep his tone short of desperate, he breathed in and out slowly.

"You're going to be fine, just sleep for now."

Ever so slowly Stiles started to drift off again, but when Derek tried to remove his hands from the boy's body Stiles started shaking again.

"Please… don't leave me." Stiles begged.

"I'm going to be right here." Derek replied, and grasped one of Stiles hands in both of his own.

After a week in the hospital the doctor confirmed everyone's worst fear. The damage to Stile's eyes was irreparable. He was going to be blind. Stiles tried to take it in without panicking.

"So…" he said to the room where his friends had gathered, "Which one of you is going to be my Seeing Eye dog?"

Silence filled the room. His father had left with the doctor to sign papers and secure his release. He heard the rustled movement in the room and panic started to close in on him. He wasn't sure who all was there, he had heard Scott, Allison, Jackson, Lydia, and his father. Not Derek though, not since the first night in the hospital when Derek held his hand while he slept.

"I'm going to help you as much as I can." He heard Scott say. He smiled in the direction he thought the sound came from.

"Dude, you suck at responsibility, I was hoping Lydia was going to take care of me." His voice came out more flat than he had intended.

"I'll do whatever I can." Lydia's voice came from the opposite side of the room from where Scott had spoken from.

Her voice sounded tight and forced, she had gone through her own ordeal. He wanted to tell her that he was just joking but he heard the door open again. Someone grasped his hand and he flinched at first, afraid of the feeling coming out of nowhere.

"You're ok son." His father placed his other hand on his shoulder, "we're going home now."

That first night at home, in his bed, alone in his room, that was when it really set in. He couldn't see. He was never going to be able to see again. He started to sob, a painful little whimpering sound that he didn't even know he could make. He felt broken. He wanted his dad to come back and tell him everything was going to be ok. More than that he wanted his mom, wanted her to come into the room with cookies and milk, to run her hands through his hair and hold him close telling him that she would take care of him.

"Stiles?" a voice came out of the darkness.

The voice shocked him out of his sobbing fit. Derek? Stiles was sure it was Derek and he reached out blindly toward his nightstand for tissues to clean himself up. He hated the idea of the powerful werewolf seeing him like a scared little kid. His hand hit the lamp and he felt it tumble, knew that he was about to hear a crash as he couldn't catch it. But there was no crash; apparently Derek had kept it from hitting the ground.

"Derek?" Stiles asked into the darkness.

He felt something soft and dry brush against his face, a tissue from the box he had been grasping for. Derek was wiping his face off with tissues, trying to comfort him. He must be going insane in addition to being blind. Derek was taking care of him. He traced the fingers against his face, down the arm before him, up a shoulder and onto Derek's smooth neck.

"Th-thanks" he stuttered.

His fingers lingered on the powerful curve of Derek's shoulder and the man made no move to pull away, though he took the tissue away from Stile's face and brushed away tears on his cheek with his free hand.

"I'm… I'm scared." Stiles let out a breathy whine high in his throat, fear clawing at his insides.

He felt Derek move forward and embrace him; steel muscle under skin that was so soft wrapped him up and pulled him forward, Derek's chin resting against his head. Stiles breathed him in, he smelled like pine needles and winter mornings, or at least that's what Stiles thought. He sighed as Derek ran one of his hands through his hair, massaging the back of his head and then down his neck. He wrapped his arms around Derek's torso pulled him as he tried to lay back. Derek let him, climbed up into the bed beside him. When Stiles turned so his back rested against Derek's chest, Derek just wrapped an arm tightly around Stile's stomach holding him solidly.

"You don't have to be scared" Derek said as he nuzzled against the back of the boy's neck, "I'm never going to let anything hurt you ever again."

Stiles reached out behind him blindly groping until his hand found Derek's head, gripped the werewolf's hair and turned his own head up and back, his tongue darting out against his own lower lip nervously.

"Plea-" he started to beg but then Derek's mouth on his lips silenced him.

He turned fully onto his back as Derek moved on top of him, warm weight pressing him down into the mattress, Derek's tongue brushed against his lips and Stiles opened his mouth to let him in. The werewolf's tongue was so soft, his hands tight as they gripped him, making him feel safe and secure.

"I didn't think you could be gentle…" he mumbled when Derek released his lips so they could both draw in ragged breaths.

"I'll be whatever you want me to be." Derek whispered against his cheek.

Stile's wished he could see Derek's face, reached out to trace it with his hands; he tried to remember the strong features, eyes that were such a lovely green, though truth be told they were normally electric blue when looking at Stiles. He had that effect on people, making them unreasonably angry. He chuckled to himself.

"What?" Derek asked.

"I was just thinking that when I could see, most of what I saw of you was your face snarling into mine as you held me pinned up against whatever happened to be closest." He blindly groped along Derek's face until he found the man's lips and ran his fingers across them. "I wish I could see you now."

"You can, if you want to." Derek said, his voice soft and somehow sounding worried.

"W-What?" Stiles said, fingers clutching at Derek.

"I killed the Alpha, after you went down. I could bite you, turn you, you'd heal." Derek said as he leaned down and placed a soft kiss on Stile's lips. "All you have to do is ask."

Stiles couldn't remember how to breathe. He felt Derek pull away from him as the werewolf shifted up onto his knees. Stiles scrambled back against shelves at the head of his bed, he heard the books on the top fall but before anything landed on him he felt the bed dip between his legs and the heat of Derek's torso radiated against his face.

"Careful…" Derek said his voice was a low whisper.

Stiles couldn't see but he remembered. He remembered how well built Derek was, and the scent of him so close was intoxicating. Timidly he brought his hands up and brushed them against Derek's legs, they were pressed against the insides of Stiles' thighs. He was wearing jeans, like normal. They were probably well worn black, faded into a soft charcoal grey.

He stroked the material up to where he could feel the black belt tucked through the loops. He brushed his fingers against the soft leather. It would be black, he knew and smiled slightly. He pulled Derek forward as he leaned into him, turned his head so his cheek was resting against the material covering Derek's stomach. Soft cotton, he wondered if it was white, to compliment the black jacket he always wore but that seemed to have been removed before he joined Stiles on the bed.

"What color is it?" Stiles asked.

"It's black."

Stiles turned his face into Derek's stomach and took a deep breath, lips slightly parted against the cotton. He felt Derek tremble slightly and the werewolf's hands reached down and rubbed through his hair and onto the back of his neck. It was soothing; it helped him not think about what Derek had just offered. He couldn't make a decision like that right now. He wanted to see, but he knew what Scott was going through, wasn't sure if he was strong enough to face it. He also knew, from his conversation with Peter, that it had a chance of killing him.

"Will… will you take it off for me?" he asked. He hated how nervous he sounded, imagined that he looked like a frightened rabbit. He felt the bed move again as Derek pulled away from him, Stiles hands on Derek's hips told him that Derek was stretching his torso to do as he was asked. He felt Derek's hands close around his wrists and pulled him up to his knees and guided him to the edge of the bed.

"What are we doing?" Stiles asked.

"Trust me." Derek said, "I'm not going to let anything happen to you."

Stiles nodded and let Derek pull him towards the edge of the bed, grunted a bit in surprise when Derek lifted him up like he weighed nothing and set him back down again so his legs were over the foot of his bed resting on the floor. He felt blood rush to his face, his body temperature was spiked and he was so nervous he thought he might throw up.

"Your ears are turning red." Derek whispered and Stiles instinctively tilted his head into Derek's hand when it brushed against his right ear, he thought he could hear the smile in the werewolf's voice.

"Y-yeah…" He was embarrassed.

"Can I take your shirt off?" Derek asked, and Stiles was sure that if his ears were turning red before they were probably bright red now.

"If… if you want to." Stiles managed, his voice shaking slightly.

He raised his arms above his head and felt really stupid. The brush of Derek's fingers against his sides caused him to laugh a little; he had always been too ticklish. There was an awkward moment after the shirt was removed where no part of his body was touching Derek's, no sounds were being made, and he was seized by panic thinking Derek was gone. Instinctively he raised a hand and pulled his legs closed slightly, breathing out a sigh of relief when his knees bumped into the sides of Derek's legs.

A hand reached out and interlocked his, palm to palm; another hand grasped his shoulder and held him steady. He sensed Derek leaning forward slowly, dropping to his knees and pulling him forward until they rested forehead to forehead, nose to nose. Stiles opened his mouth taking a steadying breath, flicked his tongue out nervously against his lower lip. He heard Derek's hissed intake of breath, and then felt the warm exhale against his own lips. It was the sweetest air he had ever breathed.

"What do you want? What can I do for you?" Derek asked.

"I-I don't know" Stiles said.

He really didn't know what he wanted. He tilted his head slightly and leaned forward, lips pressing against Derek's. Tentatively he opened his mouth and brushed Derek's lips with his tongue. The mouth against his opened and he licked into it, exploring, feeling, trying to memorize the experience.

He smiled against Derek's mouth as the werewolf let out a deep rumble. Stiles traced his tongue around Derek's lips and let out a needy moan when Derek sucked his tongue back into Derek's mouth. He released the older boy's hand and wrapped his arms around strong shoulders, one hand gripping into the back of Derek's hair and the other rubbing down his back. His finger's brushed over the spiraling tattoo, felt the slight change of the texture of the skin. Stiles traced it with his fingers and felt the werewolf arch back into his touch.

"Derek… C-Can you" Stiles was at a loss for how to make his request.

"Anything you want, just tell me." Derek said.

Feeling the heat in his face again and smiling when Derek brushed fingers against his cheeks, he took hold of the werewolf's shoulders and pushed with one hand and pulled with the other.

"Turn around, s-sit on the floor." Stiles asked.

In his mind he thought that Derek was probably rolling his eyes, but to his surprise the werewolf didn't hesitate, he slowly turned, it almost seemed like he was making a special effort to make sure that some part of his body was always touching Stiles, to make sure that he knew he was there and that he wasn't going anywhere.

"Like this?" Derek asked as he leaned back into Stiles.

"Yeah, just like that." Stiles said, his voice sounded awed even to his own ears.

When Derek was settled Stiles scooted forward, barely perched on the edge of the bed and leaned his head forward until his face made contact with the back of Derek's head and breathed in the scent of raven black hair, he'd never forget how dark it was, even if he never saw it again. He pushed Derek forward slightly and mouthed the back of his neck, running his tongue along smooth skin, tasting him, savoring him. Derek let his head fall forward, Stiles smiled at how accommodating the werewolf was being.

Stiles pushed Derek forward again and Derek moved so that Stiles could slide down onto his knees behind the werewolf. His hands roamed over Derek's back, trying to memorize curves he never got to see up close, ridges of muscle he had never gotten to explore with finger tips. When he located the tattoo again he leaned forward and ran his tongue across it, tasting the inked skin, in his mind tracing the circles with his tongue. He laughed a little thinking that for all he knew his laving was completely off pattern. Derek's hissed intake of breath and another slight grunt told him that the werewolf didn't care one way or the other.

Stiles ran his fingers back up Derek's neck and got a firm grip in his hair, pulling his head gently to the side. His other arm wrapped around Derek's waist, fingers brushing along the werewolf's abdomen. Stiles gasped at the feeling of the rock hard muscles and how they shifted at his touch. Stiles was suddenly gripped by a fierce desire, it was an aching need that seemed to be reaching up from his groin, through his stomach and seizing him by the throat. He brought his mouth down on the exposed part of Derek's neck where his head was tilted, hair still firmly in his grip and bit down, harder than he intended too.

"Fuck…" Derek's voice sounded like he was wound up tight, straining for control. He was letting out ragged panting breaths that Stiles didn't realize were a mirror of his own.

"S-sorry" Stiles apologized.

"Don't be, I love the feel of your hands, your mouth, your teeth, everything about you." Derek said.

"You do?" Stiles tried not to think about the ache in his groin.

The boy gasped as Derek leaned back into him, he hadn't realized how painfully hard he was until Derek's back brushed up against his cock, white hot pleasure short circuiting his brain at the contact. He heard the werewolf's hissed intake of breath, imagined that Derek could smell how turned on he was. He felt Derek grasp the hand that was rubbing small circles on the werewolf's stomach, didn't let go as he turned around in Stiles arms. Stiles released Derek's hair and felt the other boy's arms wrap around him possessively. Carefully Derek was wrapping one hand around Stiles back, the other around the back of his neck and twisting them around to gently lower Stiles to the floor.

"Let me make you feel good" Derek begged.

Stiles never thought he would hear Derek sound like that, so much need and desire threaded through the werewolf's voice.

Heat, that's what Stiles felt, Derek's heat soaking from the werewolf's naked torso into his own. He smelled pine trees and that unidentifiable scent that was pure Derek, the one his mind told him was like a crisp January morning, as Derek leaned in for another kiss. The rasp of jeans on jeans, the clinking of metal belt buckles brushing over each other filled his ears. Need, that's what he imagined he tasted on Derek's lips, need and longing and desire, and maybe it was just cinnamon from something Derek had eaten, but to Stiles it was so much more.

Derek was all around him, felt like he was the whole world. The carpet on the floor of his room had never been so comfortable, he had spent hours, days, hell he had spent years on that floor and it was never like this. Derek's thighs forced his legs apart and he arched his back up grinding his hips into the werewolf.

"Please…" Derek's voice rang through Stiles causing him to vibrate like a struck tuning fork, resonating with the stark need in the werewolf's voice. "Please, let me make you feel good, make you forget about everything else except for right now, except for this moment."

Stiles would have laughed if he had been able to take a full breath. Derek was asking his permission, begging him to let the werewolf do as he wished with Stiles. That was like asking if you wanted chocolate syrup on an ice cream sundae. Derek wanted to know if he could obliterate Stiles' pain with pleasure. He had never wanted anything so badly before in his life and Derek was asking his permission, to be allowed to give it to Stiles. The world was a wondrous place sometimes.

"Whatever you want…" his voice was tight in his throat. He lifted his arms above his head to rest on the carpet above him. He rolled his hips up into Derek again wrapping his legs around the man's waist. Stiles turned his head to the side and bared his throat to the wolf; head tilted up and back in submission. "You can have whatever you want."

More heat from Derek's fingers along his cheek. Lines of fire that burned so good down his neck and over his chest. His breath caught in his throat as the hand stopped to investigate one of his nipples. He tightened his hands into fists and he felt his toes curl, stretched out he imagined he looked wanton, destroyed by lust, broken apart and waiting on Derek to put him back together again piece by piece.

Wet, the wet and warm feeling of Derek's tongue on his shoulder. Firm pressure on his stomach and Derek pinned his hips to the floor, there was a sense of distances closing, and in the poetic part of his mind it was the sense of wishes being granted one by one as Derek trailed kisses down his chest. Acute pain that settled low in his balls as Derek's teeth closed over the nipple his fingers had abandoned moments ago.

Need, that's the only way to describe the noises that Derek was tearing from his throat. Stiles was sure that what he was doing was something less than breathing, a ragged panting, a whimpering high and full of desire, and it was so much more satisfying than breathing. Breathing was for people who weren't pinned to their floor underneath Derek Hale, languishing under the exquisite torture of his mouth. Breathing was completely overrated.

The heat and the wet and the amazing that was Derek's mouth left Stiles and the boy frowned and began to reach up, a protest on his lips. A short lived protest as Derek pinned Stiles' lips under one finger, and both his arms, wrist over wrist, to the carpet with his other.

"No. Stay. Quiet." Derek's voice was no longer begging, it was commanding, and Stiles was getting harder and he didn't think that was possible. "Keep your hands up; I'm taking care of you. I'm not leaving you; I'm not going to suddenly disappear. If I stop touching you for a moment it's because I'm planning something, something you'll enjoy. Trust me. I'm here."

Stiles wanted to protest, wanted Derek to know that he wanted Derek to feel as good as he did, wanted to give Derek as much as he was getting. But Derek had told him to be quiet, which left his lips and tongue nothing to do but pull the finger that was resting against them inside, welcome them into his mouth. A pleased rumble from Derek and the feel of the wolf's hips involuntarily jerking forward grinding into his groin indicated that Derek got the message.

Derek pulled his fingers free and Stiles was sure he was not pouting when Derek said "Don't pout." He wanted to call Derek a sour wolf but he was told to be quiet, Stiles always did what he was told.

"Sour wolf" Stiles said, because as it turns out Stiles actually wasn't very good at doing what he was told. He opened his mouth to continue but whatever it was he was going to say was drowned under a wave of pleasure as Derek's hand gripped him through his jeans. "Oh fuck…" he said instead.

There were more clinking noises as his belt was undone and pulled free, then Derek forced Stiles' legs to untangle from around his waist and pulled his hips up off the ground to get Stiles' jeans off. Rather than bringing Stiles' hips back down to the carpet Derek pulled his legs further up off the ground. Stiles grunted in surprise at first, though the grunt was not at all indignant, in his mind, with Derek holding his legs apart, clad only in his boxers with his ass resting on Derek's knees as the wolf knelt on the carpet, he was the picture of dignity. His hands were flexing open and closed grasping at air and not finding anything to hold onto when he desperately wanted them wrapped around his own cock, but that was a sign of his composure he was sure.

"Fuck…" Derek's voice was raw with lust; it was the best sound Stiles had ever heard. "It's all over you, how much you want this, how much you need it." Stiles dick twitched and he felt Derek's grip on his legs grow incrementally tighter.

"Oh god" was all Stiles had in him, "please, please, touch me, something, anything!" he added a few seconds later when he sucked in another breath. He was the one begging now. He would beg. He would do whatever it was that Derek wanted, whatever he needed to do to get Derek to keep going, to keep granting those wishes one by one.

Stiles felt the grip on his legs go lax, felt the hands drifting down to his boxers. His dick twitched again as it momentarily got tangled up in the underwear as Derek pulled them off and the dull thud of it slinging free and bouncing back onto his stomach was obscene in Stiles ears.

Somewhere in the distant part of his brain, the insane part that wasn't focused on Derek pushing him across the carpet so his hips were resting on the floor again, he recognized the sound of something falling off a shelf, Derek must have tossed aside Stiles boxers in his haste to get them off.

He thought about commenting about Derek's disregard for his possessions but then he felt the rough prickling of Derek's stubble along the inside of his thigh. He heard the deep inhale of the wolf between his legs and it made his cock twitch again. He was probably a little perverse for getting off on the thought of Derek all up in his personal space inhaling the scent between his legs, but that was ok, because the hissing exhale of hot breath against his balls made his toes curl again and he locked his right hand around his left wrist just to have something to hold onto.

"So good…" Derek said, the sound pooling heat low in Stiles stomach. "Wanted to smell, to taste for so long," Stiles thought he was going to die in the pause that followed until he felt Derek's nose against the skin where his leg joined against his hip, "to touch."

Stiles hips started to twitch on their own but then Derek's hands were there, nails digging into his skin with just the right amount of pressure pinning him to the floor. Hot breath washing over his groin as Derek got so close, Stiles felt as though he could feel the heat of Derek's face along his aching cock. Instinctively he tilted his head down as though he could look and see Derek there, crouched between his legs gripped by animal lust and hunger. He couldn't see that look; maybe he would never see that look or glowing needy burning blue eyes, but the image in his mind was sublime.

Then the image shattered apart as wet heat closed over him. The noises, oh god the noises alone could have sent him over the edge if he listened close enough he thought, that wet sliding sound of lips over flesh that he had never heard not coming from an electronic device. But the noises were not all that there was. There was the suction, the twisting snaking feeling of the tongue running up the vein on the underside of his cock.

He moaned and he panted and when Derek released his hips he rocked up wildly into Derek's mouth. The encouraging hungry noises that Derek was making were almost lost to him because the sound of the noises spilling out of his own mouth was outrageously lewd. He begged and panted, he whimpered and he whined, and he kept saying Derek's name over and over again like it was the life line that was keeping him from drowning in Derek's mouth.

Derek moved with him pulled back as Stiles lowered his hips, pushed his head down and sucked hard when Stiles thrust his hips up. Derek's lips were so soft and warm and wet, Stiles started to lose the rhythm of what he was doing and it was suddenly just wild and instinctual. Derek's tongue against the sensitive skin under the head of his dick, the change of Derek's position on his knees so he could get a better angle, taking Stiles deeper into his mouth was the most wonderful kind of torture.

"Derek!" Stiles gasped out, "I'm so close."

He nearly cried with frustration when Derek pinned his hips to the carpet again stilling the momentum Stiles had going. He was going to die. Derek was literally trying to kill him. He felt the heat retracting off the length of his cock and he gripped his own hair in frustration and was about to beg more when he felt Derek's tongue dipping into the slit at the head of his cock searchingly, felt one of Derek's hands grip firmly at the base of the shaft while the other pressed down on his stomach. Stiles' hands released his own hair and gripped Derek's firmly and desperately as lips wrapped back around the head of Stiles' cock again and tightened, tongue still licking and swirling around the head and dipping underneath the edge to the sensitive skin there.

"Fuck! Please… oh god!" and other noises that had no words to describe them spilled out of Stiles' mouth, and the vibrating of Derek's lips and throat, the reverberation from the pleasure being expressed was more than Stiles could take. He wanted to buck his hips wildly but all he could do was pull on Derek's hair to try to encourage him to give him more.

Suddenly it was all too much and Stiles crashed over the edge of self-control shaking as he came and Derek just kept going, kept sucking and swallowing Stiles deeper into his throat. Stiles' mouth was dry and his throat constricted, his body was wracked by spasm after spasm but his hips were still pinned by Derek's hand and Derek was unrelenting in pulling Stiles orgasm harder and harder from his body.

"I-I'm going to die" he grunted out through gritted teeth, "and… it's going to be so awesome."

The sucking wet heat of Derek's mouth finally released him and he gasped out a breath when it was replaced by the wolf's soft lips planting kisses over the shaft and head. He shivered under the tender ministrations and didn't let go of the wolf's now tousled black hair.

"You're not going to die" Derek's voice promised him, warm breath tickling against Stiles' balls, "We've got too much left to do tonight."

"Oh shit…" Stiles breathed out, stomach flutteringly nervously. He loved the certainty in Derek's voice, released Derek's hair from between his clutching fingers and stuck his tongue out in the werewolf's general direction. "Bring it sour wolf."

He heard the soft rustle of carpet as Derek started to moved, then the clinking of the wolf's belt buckle coming undone and the dull thud of pants hitting the floor from somewhere near his feet. Stiles wasn't sure exactly what was going to happen next, but he was already breathing heavily in anticipation, Derek kept granting more wishes one by one.

Stiles tilted his head and listened hard to try to figure out what was going on. It sounded like Derek was moving away from him, back towards the bed perhaps? The window was by the bed and he flicked his tongue out over his lips nervously, remembering Derek's words. Derek wasn't going to leave him. He ran his hands down over his chest and into the fine hair nestled around his cock. He stroked himself lazily feeling the wetness that was Derek's saliva still coating him. Vaguely he heard the sound of drawers opening as if Derek was looking for something.

He could have offered to help but he was interested to know if Derek's saliva tasted different now that it was all over his skin. He ran his palm over the wetness and brought it up to his mouth sniffed at his hand feeling a little silly thinking he could detect Derek's scent mixed with his own, ran his tongue experimental over his palm to see what it tasted like. His eyelids fluttered as he lost himself in it, over the feeling of his tongue running along his palm and between his fingers. In the distance but getting closer he heard Derek's panting breath. Maybe Derek liked what he was doing. He stroked himself with his left hand, getting hard again thinking about Derek watching him there, lying on the floor licking his hand and fingers while touching himself.

He rolled over onto his stomach, pushed himself up onto his knees supporting his weight with his neck and shoulder, cheek rubbing against the soft carpet as he kept one of his hands on his dick stroking languidly and ran the other over his chest and stomach. He wiggled his hips thrusting down slightly and spreading his legs, ass exposed in the air hoping that he looked sexy and not desperate.

"Derek…" Stiles whispered as he kept stroking himself, "come back… I need you, I-I'm so hard already."

Stiles heard a fairly feral sounding growl behind him, felt the carpet dip between his ankles. Then there was a hand seizing him by the back of the neck, not roughly but firmly and pulling his face from the carpet. Something soft brushed against his cheek and he was momentarily disoriented until he realized it was a pillow. He felt Derek trying to turn his head slightly and he obeyed, and then mumbled appreciatively as Derek lowered him onto his pillow, it was softer than the rough carpet against his cheek.

Derek's other hand joined the first on his neck then the two hands ran down between his shoulders and Stiles moaned and turned his face into the pillow his hips shaking slightly at the sensation of Derek's fingers moving down his spine. Hands caressed across his shoulder blades and then gripped his arms, tightly.

Stiles knew that the whining protest he made was muffled into the pillow as Derek gently but firmly pulled Stiles' hands away from himself. Stiles complied as Derek folded his wrists over each other and pinned them on the small of his own back, one of Derek's hands holding them in place.

The teen felt the floor shift as Derek got down on his knees behind him. He held his breath in anticipation wondering what Derek was going to do. He twitched his hips and made encouraging noises into the pillow hoping the werewolf made up his mind soon.

"Ahnngghh" he grunted out as Derek gripped his cock and started stroking him. Stiles turned his head to the side and licked his lips trying to distribute his weight evenly between his knees and his shoulder as he fell forward slightly, his breathing was heavy and he was about to say something when he felt Derek lick into him. "Oh fuck… fuck… Derek", the words spilled from his mouth and he bit down on his lip to try to keep quiet.

Derek's tongue was exploring his ass and Stiles didn't know what to do, he trembled and shook and it was the best kind of teasing heat that he never knew he was missing. It was dirty and wet and Derek's open mouth and lips were all over him. The werewolf's single hand that was pinning both of his behind his back tightened and the werewolf's other hand continued to stroke him in a slow and teasing rhythm.

"More… please… oh Derek please. So good," Stiles took a breath that sounded wet and broken in his own ears, "so good."

Derek growled against his ass and the vibration caused Stiles to involuntarily push his hips back into Derek's face, he tried to free his wrists so he could grip the floor or the pillow or anything that could steady him as he shook with the pleasure that Derek was sending through his body. The hand that was gripping his cock let go and Stiles bit back a curse by sucking his lower lip into his mouth and holding it in his teeth as he grunted out his exasperation at the werewolf that was clearing trying to drive him insane.

"No." Derek whispered and Stiles felt the hot exhale of breath against the straining ring of muscle that Derek was teasing, "stay still."

"Fucking hell… nngghh… how" Stiles hissed out "am I going…" Stiles lungs burned with the need for air and he sucked in another breath, "to do that with your tongue INSIDE me?"

Derek's only answer was to push in deeper. He had been joking earlier, but Stiles was beginning to think Derek really was going to kill him if he kept this up. His cock was painfully hard between his legs and Derek's tongue was miraculous but he wanted more.

"Please?" he begged "please let me go, I-I want you inside of me."

"Oh?" Derek's teasing question made Stiles want to scream.

"Yes!" Stiles breathed out against the pillow, the need in his voice painfully plain. "Please?" he begged again.

Another teasing lick and then Derek released his arms. Unsteadily Stiles pushed himself up on hands and knees shaking slightly, desperately wanting to touch himself but he had the feeling that would only make Derek draw this out more, and for the sake of his sanity, he just couldn't deal with that.

He felt Derek moving behind him and then arms wrapping around his waist and lifting him up. He gasped as Derek placed him on unsteady feet. He turned around in the werewolf's arms and felt the hot length of Derek's cock slide against his own. Derek must have been slicking himself up with lubricant he found in Stiles' drawer while licking his way into Stile's body.

Derek tightened his grip around Stiles hips and lifted, and the boy moaned as he wrapped his legs around the werewolf's waist. He felt Derek taking careful steps backwards until he sat down on the bed.

Stiles felt the slick slide of the top of Derek's cock against his ass and used his arms around Derek's neck to pull himself up so Derek could get the two of them lined up. Slowly, so unbearably slowly Derek lowered Stiles onto his cock. The teen gasped as the head slipped into him then bit down hard on Derek's shoulder as the werewolf bottomed out.

"You're so tight! So hot!" Derek's voice sounded awed. Stiles' teeth released their hold on Derek's shoulder and he threw his head back and panted as he began to bounce himself up and down on Derek's lap.

"So good… so good" Stiles kept whispering to himself as Derek bucked his hips up into him. Stiles gripped the werewolf's hair with one hand, the other trailing down Derek's back and brushing over the spiral tattoo.

Stiles dick was pinned between their stomachs and the friction was too good. Derek's cock was slamming into something inside of Stiles that was making his spine quiver. He leaned his head forward and captured Derek's lips, tongue sliding out and into the wolf's mouth. Every part of Stiles was on fire, every part of him was begging Derek for more, for harder, for faster.

Stiles had no idea how long he had been riding the werewolf, time was a meaningless thing blasted away by the power of Derek, by the strength and heat of his body, by the electricity surging through Stiles' spine and pooling in his stomach. Stiles groaned and gasped as his balls tightened up into him and he spilled his pleasure all over their stomachs.

He heard Derek's hissed intake of breath and he imagined he could see Derek's face as the scent threw him into a frenzy, pounding up into Stiles, nails dragging down his back and then Derek was shaking. Trembling underneath Stiles and gasping out. Stiles stroked Derek's hair and instinctively tightened his muscles and undulating on the werewolf's lap, milking the pleasure out of him.

Derek clung to Stiles shaking desperately it seemed. Stiles had no idea why Derek seemed so frightened but he stroked the wolf's sweaty hair and neck and placed gentle kisses randomly over his face, his eyes, his cheeks, and his mouth, anything his lips wandered into. He heard what sounded like sobs tearing free from Derek's chest and then he heard words that he would never forget.

"I can't lose you. I love you; I didn't know how much I loved you until I almost lost you." Derek cried softly and buried his head in Stile's chest.

Stiles kept stroking Derek's hair and back, placed another kiss on Derek's forehead and whispered back, "I love you too, I'm right here, and I'm not going anywhere."

He was blind, that was true, but with Derek here in his arms, needing his love, needing Stiles to tell him that they were going to be together, being blind didn't seem so important. Derek's offer lingered in Stiles mind. Would he risk the possibility of the bite killing him? He would gain his sight back if he lived, but if he died he would never have another night like this, with the man he loved clutching him like he would drown if he let go and Stiles thought that maybe the risk of losing that was more terrifying than the prospect of learning to live without sight. It was a decision for another day, for another time.