"Stay here for a while." Derek said as he snaked an arm around Stiles' waist and pulled him closer. A sigh left Stiles' lips, struggling to escape Derek's strong hands. Finally he managed to wiggle away from him slightly, pulling the comforter over his spent body. Sure, Stiles' liked cuddling, but not as much as Derek did apparently. Post-sex Derek was all grabby hands and death grips around his body. All Stiles wanted to do was spread out and wait for his limbs to stop feeling like jelly.
Stiles used a loose foot to kick Derek away from him, forcing the older mans body further and further away. Derek huffed and moved to sit on the edge of the bed, watching from the corner of his eye as Stiles pulled the comforter even closer to himself. Stiles was tired, unsurprisingly, only wanting to sleep for a while before his curfew rolled around and he had to leave, but Derek was having none of it. They didn't get a lot of time in the evenings together, and usually it was Stiles who wanted to spend the night, warm and safe, in Derek's bed, but recently the roles had been switched.
"I'm starting to think you're only using me for sex." Stiles said as Derek crawled onto the bed, shifting his body so he was over Stiles. "You know I have to leave soon." He reminded, running his hands over Derek's shoulder blades and down his back. He was visibly tense, muscles stiffening under Stiles' light touch. Derek didn't respond, but Stiles knew he had heard. Instead he worked on distracting Stiles, leaning forward to bring the teen closer, but Stiles pulled away before he could.
During the last few weeks he had noticed Derek becoming increasingly clingy, crawling into Stiles' room in the dead of night and worming his way between Stiles' sheets. Every morning Stiles would wake up covered by the human blanket that is Derek Hale. The most annoying habit that Derek had formed lately was picking him up from school, even when Stiles had driven himself in the morning. He would lie and say he thought Stiles needed a ride then manhandle him into the Camaro and have one of the others drive the jeep.
"It's getting late and my dad will be calling soon." Stiles said as he stood up and tugged on his jeans, glancing around for his runaway shirt. A stretched bundle of black fabric was thrown towards him from Derek, but the enormous size of it, not to mention the blood stain, meant it was definitely in the wrong hands. He didn't keep it for more than a few seconds, spotting his own across the room, throwing Derek's back as he crossed the space and scooped it up. Derek's warning growl could be heard as it hit him square in the face.
"Take it, Stiles." Derek sat up and held the shirt out, but Stiles was already halfway out the door. He could be heard shuffling around in the room, followed by the soft noises of his feet hitting the staircase as he followed after him.
"Stay over tonight. Or let me give you a ride home." Derek insisted, watching Stiles search for his keys from his position in the doorway. A moment of distraction hit Stiles when he glanced up and saw that Derek was shirtless and his sweatpants hung low on his hips, but he kept resolute, kept searching.
"I can't and I don't need a ride. I drove the jeep here." Stiles told him. There were only so many times he could use sleepovers with Scott or movie nights where he fell asleep as an excuse with his dad. He found the troublesome keys under the coffee table and moved to the door, his escape prevented by Derek's arm grabbing his waist like a hook, pressing Stiles against the wall.
Derek was suffocating Stiles lately. It was just too much. He had no time to himself, Derek was just always there, even when he couldn't see him he knew that Derek was watching him. His attitude had started to change over the past few weeks, like the thought of them not being together was unbearable. Stiles had no clue why Derek was suddenly so clingy and protective, all he knew was that he needed to get out, needed to have some time to himself.
"No, let me drive you. I'll bring the jeep over later." Derek pressed himself against Stiles as he tried to wiggle from his grasp, pushing Derek's chest and shaking his head. "Stiles. I'm driving you." Derek demanded, pulling the keys from Stiles' hand.
"You can't control everything." Stiles snapped, his tone meaner than he intended, hurriedly training his eyes on his shoes to avoid seeing the hurt on Derek's face. Quick as a flash he managed to dislodge himself from Derek's grasp, practically running to the door.
Peter looked up from his spot on the couch, "Do you two mind keeping your lovers tiff down? I'm watching TV." He had became very engrossed with shark week this year and got pissy whenever he was interrupted. It was only a few seconds before he had turned up the volume and was engrossed in the mating habits of the great white once more.
"Listen to me for once, Stiles." Derek growled, ignoring his uncle and putting an arm over the door that Stiles was attempting to flee through, his limb acting as a makeshift barrier.
"Let me go." Stiles wanted to listen to him. So badly. But it was just too much for him lately. Derek's arm was dislodged as Stiles' pushed past, feeling the other man's muscles straining as he struggled to relinquish his grip, struggled to let Stiles out of his sight. He didn't give chase as Stiles clambered into his jeep and ripped out of the driveway.
Derek was as stubborn as a mule and Stiles knew if he wanted them to get past this he would have to make the first move and apologize. Stiles didn't want to think the whole little fight they had was he fault, he had snapped at Derek a bit but he was well within his rights to! Generally, their apologies resulted in both of them not really saying much, just a lot of heavy sighs and raised eyebrows until one of them cracked. He gave himself three days to mull things over before he drove the jeep straight from school to Derek's. -
The driveway was filled with the regular cars that were always there; Jackson's, Allison's, and Derek's. There was an extra vehicle in the driveway that he didn't recognize, an SUV with windows so dark he could barely see the interior. The door to the house was already open when he walked up the steps.
"Guys?" Stiles called out as he stepped in, jumping slightly when he heard a loud snarl from the living room. The whole pack had gathered and were sitting around pressed against each other, save for Derek, who was standing with Scott at his side. No one turned to look at him as he entered; they were all too focused on the four others standing in the room. The blonde seemed to be the leader, stood with her teeth bared, the other three flanking her.
In the momentary distraction Stiles caused by shouting out the woman stepped forward and put her hand against Derek's cheek. He snapped his head back.
"Jess, don't touch me." He snarled. "Stiles, leave."
"Stiles?" She asked, her tone questioning. "What kind of name is-"
"Enough." Derek snapped, turning to look at Stiles for a moment. Their eyes met briefly. "You need to go."
"If there's pack stuff happening shouldn't I be involved?" Stiles asked, his voice slightly raised. There was no denying it was ballsy to challenge Derek like this; especially in front of another pack of werewolves. He looked to the rest of his friends for back up but no one seemed able to meet his eyes.
"You can't be pack, unless-" Jess said quickly, her eyes widening before she caught herself.
"I said go, Stiles." Derek cut her off, staring at Stiles. He eventually turned from the room, making sure to slam the door on his way out. This was typical for Stiles, always being pushed to the side and left out of things.
Stiles slept with his window locked after that. He just needed space and time to breath. The fight between him and Derek had him so wound up. The image of that other wolf, Jess, was imprinted in his mind his mind especially how she had pressed her body against Derek's so seamlessly.
He didn't understand Derek about 75% of the time. He wouldn't let Stiles out of his sight one day and the next he would be shielding him from pack business. As soon as he confronted him Stiles knew it would just erupt into a fight, a fight that would lead to hot, heavy makeup sex were they both forgot why they were mad in the first place. It would be back to square one all over again, with nothing getting resolved, their issues still there.
He heard the telltale steps on his roof before Derek dropped down to his ledge. Stiles bolted from his bed and pulled the blinds closed. He knew Derek would know he was home but he just didn't have it in him to deal with Derek at the moment. He wanted time to be angry with him.
"Stiles, open the window." Stiles pointedly ignored him and remained on his bed with his back turned to the window. "I'm going to break the lock." Derek threatened, drawing a sigh from Stiles as he pushed off the bed and drew the curtains back, pressing his hands over the lock.
"No you're not. You're going to go home." Stiles said with much bravado. He stared down Derek even when his eyes started turning red and despite the slight fear growing in him. "You don't scare me. Now, shoo." He pulled his blinds shut and threw himself back on his bed.
"Let me explain. " Derek said from outside.
"I don't want to hear it." Stiles called to him. He actually did, really badly, but he wasn't going to give Derek the satisfaction. Eventually, Derek relented. Stiles breathed a sigh a relief when he check out his window and Derek was gone.
No one from the pack approached him after that. Stiles was still so damn curious. He was this close to calling Scott to find out who those other wolves had been, but he refrained, he wasn't going to go to any of them first if he could help it. Even though he was avoiding talking and seeing the pack he knew they were everywhere. Everywhere.
The feeling of constantly being watched was starting to get old. For the last couple of days Stiles had felt eyes on him where ever he went. He didn't think much of it but it was becoming a bit much, especially after his argument with Derek.
He figured it was as per Derek's orders that he was never to be alone. There was always someone from the pack near him despite his great efforts to ditch them. He frequently caught Isaac out of the corner of his eye trailing after him, or Erica blatantly walking behind him. If Derek had his way Boyd would probably be sleeping outside his bedroom window, but Stiles didn't have it in him to check.
The one time he got a moment to himself was the day after Derek made the pack go for a midnight run. Stiles knew they were always wiped out after giving him a few hours precious hours in the morning alone.
He parked the jeep in the nearly empty parking lot of the grocery store and double checked to make sure he wasn't being followed then sprinted from his jeep to the store and breathed a sigh of relief when he was inside. Grocery shopping had to be one of his favourite things particularly being able to browse the isles in peace with out werewolves breathing down his neck. Grabbing a cart and he rolled it down every isle even if he knew he didn't need anything from it.
"Contemplating the benefits of soy vs. regular milk?" A voice asked from behind Stiles.
He turned around and recognized her immediately. The same girl from Derek's house earlier in the week. She was maybe a few years older than him, standing with her hands on her hips and an amused smile on her face. Stiles couldn't help but notice the shining blonde hair, the sharp green eyes, the lithe body, feeling a pang of jealously in his stomach as he remembered the way she had touched Derek.
"Actually yogurt." He explained with two different containers in each hand, giving them a little shake before dropping them to his sides lamely
"Hmm," she plucked the container of vanilla yoghurt from his hands. "Try this one."
He gave a mute nod and dropped the contained of strawberry back into the cooler. When he turned back she was standing way too close to Stiles, her breast pressed against his chest as she reached past him to grab a carton milk, adding it to her empty shopping basket.
"Well, uh thanks." Stiles sputtered and started pushing his cart away from her. The feeling of something being amiss coming over him.
"Stiles," She practically purred. He froze when she said his name, the clicking of her heels signalling her approach.. "I think we both know where this is going." She said, in front of him with an somewhat eerie smile on her face. Her eyes flickered blue for a second and any hope that that she wasn't a werewolf, or at least not a werewolf coming after him, went out the window. If her total disregard for personal space wasn't a big enough hint the change of eye color definitely was.
"Well, I was just heading towards the soup isle." Stiles said, attempting to remain calm. He gripped the handle of his shopping cart and motioned to walk away but she moved to stand beside him. Her hand came down to cover his own, pressing down over his on the handle.
"Remember we're in a public place before you freak out." She was speaking so low that it would have been hard to hear had her face not been so close to his own. Despite the fact that she was shorter than him they both knew she could overpower him, the realisation stopping any ideas of running away as she laced her fingers through Stiles' and started pulling him towards the exit, his food abandoned. "I can see you formulating all these escape plans in your mind," she began, pulling at Stiles' arm so it draped across her shoulders, "don't bother." Her words were ice, made even worse by the sight of four pack members lounging around the same SUV he had seen at Derek's, parked at the edge of the lot.
He tensed as the door of the SUV swung open revealing the driver and a passenger in the back seat. He was pretty confident in his running and figured he could make it at least a few meters away before they were on him. As soon as she released her hold on him to usher him in he pushed hard against the door swinging it open wider and knocking her momentarily off balance. Taking his chance he ran past her and back towards the store with blood pumping in his ears, all he could hear was the sounds of his loud breathing and his feet pounding against the ground. As long as he could get to other people he figured he would be safe.
A body pressed into his back and he toppled to the ground. The girl was sitting on his lower back, her feet digging painfully into his calves. Tiny rocks and bits of dirt were digging into his face, which was planted painfully in the cement.
"I thought I told you not to make a scene." She hissed. She looked around to make sure there weren't any witnesses before hauling him up by the collar of his shirt. He should have known. He felt a something poking into his neck and his vision started fading out as whatever was in the needle took effect. Swearing under his breath, he should have known o one would be that interested in yoghurt flavours unless they had ulterior motives.
It was cold. Really cold. Stiles was shaking, he wanted move and grab something to warm him up but his arms were strapped behind his back. His head lolled to the side, he shifted his neck to try and relive the kink that had developed and noticed at least five other people in the room and guessed there had to be more.
"Finally." Jess groaned. He licked his lips a few times but couldn't get the feeling as if someone had stuffed his mouth with cotton balls to abate. He was so thirsty and his head was pounding, the constant sound of her shoes clicking against the floor didn't help.
"I don't understand," He forced out. His mind was so hazy. He couldn't focus on anything for more than a few seconds. "Did you-" he asked, his speech slurred.
His tongue felt heavy in his mouth and was struggling to hold his head up nor did he have the energy to turn his head to look at her. If he thought he was sore after lacrosse practice what he was feeling at that moment was on a whole separate scale of sore, this must be what getting hit by a semi-truck felt like. The woman was speaking, he knew that much, but he had no energy to turn and look, no energy to even listen
"Did they get bored of you, human? It's been two days and no one has come for you." She said. Her hand on him snapped him back into focus. Her finger ran down the side of his face then gripped his chin, tilting his face so he was forced to look up at her. She raised an eyebrow when he didn't answer her. "I figured."
"Where are we?" Stiles managed to choke out through his dry throat. He was starting to get his bearings back and started noticing little things about the place they took him. Crates lined the walls and lighting was poor, besides form that nothing hinted him off to his whereabouts. It didn't help that he had been drugged for two days and his eyes felt like they were burning out of his skull.
"You really think I'd tell you that?" She released her hold on him and he let his head flop back against his shoulder. He was hoping that she might leave him now. Maybe, he should be more concerned about being stuck in an abandoned subway station with a pack of foreign werewolves but the only thing on his mind was how badly his head was hurting and how the ropes around his wrist were starting to cut into the skin.
"We we're just passing through, then you caught my eye. At first I thought you were just a plaything your pack kept around. You're clearly more than that." She sniffed and her nose crinkled as a look of disgust came over her face. "We want to leave soon without any problems."
"I don't think kidnapping me was a very good idea then." She shrugged and waved him off.
"I'd like you to come with me." She said, while her hand traveled higher up his thigh. They didn't break eye contact, she kept leaning over him until their noses were touching and not even an inch was between their lips. When she spoke it felt like she was speaking right into him, pushing her words down his throat.
He was waiting for the typical villain's speech were they revealed their whole master plan just to get foiled. But, this was real life and he had clearly watched too many movies.
"It doesn't seem like you're really asking me." He didn't like how his voice sounded, raspy from being dehydrated.
"I don't take well to disappointment, Stiles." She moved her face to press their cheeks together, her hot breath in his ear strangely comforting. He was leaning into her slightly, his head inches from resting on his shoulder. He wanted to so badly, he was tired and she was so warm. "We'll appreciate you." She whispered. Her hair was brushing over his shoulder sending tingles up his spine. She smelt like strawberries and the same mint tooth paste his dad used.
"We'll take care of you. That's what a pack does." Her hand ran down his thigh to rest on his knee as she knelt over him. The haze that had been clouding his mind cleared when her eyes flashed blue. He blinked a few times and sat up suddenly while shaking his head.
"No," he said firmly. "Whatever you want the answer is no." He was no longer putty under her touch, she pulled way from his tense body, tilting her head and staring at him. A look of hurt flashed momentarily over her face. He could see her hand run over the front pocket of her pants were there was no doubt another needle waiting to be used. "You're not very good wolves are you? Relying on alternate means of keeping me compliant."
"Seeing as you're around wolves often we figured that our teeth and claws wouldn't work well on you." She snapped back. "Your Alpha wouldn't want you if you were turned by another wolf." Her teeth scraped along his neck. "If you want to remain human I suggest being quiet. It would be so easy for me to sink my teeth in." She pressed down against the soft skin not hard enough to break.
Her hand ran over his neck gently before turning to a vice-like grip, yanking his head around to expose his neck. Stiles felt the prick of a needle breaking the skin.
Stiles had been there for three days now, and this whole being kidnapped thing was getting seriously boring. Sure, he didn't expect being kidnapped to be some huge adventure, but he thought they'd at least keep him somewhat occupied. Maybe this was all a part of their plan; to kill him with boredom. There were only so many time he could count how many crates were stacked along the wall for how many tiles were on the ceiling.
He had expected the pack so come after him by now. Jess' words replayed over and over in his mind. Did they get bored of you? The pack could be using this as an out, finally being able to be rid of the weak human without doing any work. Derek was so emotionally constipated; he wouldn't be able too properly break up with him so maybe Stiles just getting taken made the whole thing easier for him. Now they wouldn't have to watch out for the fragile human all the time.
"No, no, no." Stiles muttered quietly under his breath. He couldn't let thoughts like that plague him. But, if they were going to take their time coming after him he was determined to get out himself.
Stiles rocked back in the chair in hopes he could somehow free his arms. The whole thing tipped back and his head smashed against the ground hard, disorientating him. He heard one of the werewolves in the room chuckle but none of them made a move to help him.
"Thanks guys," Stiles muttered under his breath. He blinked a couple of times, trying to get ride of the specs of light that were floating in his vision. He tipped himself onto the side, pressing his face into the cold cement.
"Don't touch him." Jess snarled, despite the fact that no one was bothering too. She was beside him instantly and pulled the chair up. She ran her hands over the back of his head then cupped his cheeks.
"You smell like him still." Jess breathed, she was practically in his lap. She inhaled deeply as her head buried into the fold of his neck. Stiles shook his head, trying to dislodge her, but she wound her arms around his neck. "Calm down," she shushed. Her hand moved over his mouth and slipped a pill in, fingers closing over his mouth, preventing him from pushing it out with his tongue.
"Swallow." She commanded, holding her hand in place until she saw his Adam's apple bob. Fingers pried his lips apart, probing around inside to ensure that he swallowed.
"Good boy," she said quietly. Stiles was sure he had lost the ability to think straight a long time ago. He could barley register the feeling of her lips long his neck. It was almost as if he could feel as the drugs moving through his system, rending his limbs useless. She rubbed her hands down his sides and under his shirt.
He knew if he was given the chance to escape he wouldn't make it very far. It reminded him of when he had been paralyzed by the kanima, but with an extra side effect extreme fatigue. Stiles struggled to remain awake and focused but it was getting harder and harder as the minutes ticked by. Sleep came with warm hands along his skin and gentle touches across his stomach, oddly comforting in his hazy state.
When he came too there were less wolves than before, the only ones he could see were Jess and three others. She was pacing a few feet away from him and didn't pay any attention to him.
"We should just kill the kid." One of the wolves suggested. All eyes in the room were trained on Stiles, as if he could possibly make a break for it.
"No." She growled out. "We can't-" She was cut of by the sound of the doors into the subway swinging open. By the sounds of it Stiles expected to doors to be completely ripped of the hinges. Everyone tensed and all the wolves crouched.
There was too much happened in the next minute for Stiles to catch it all, his mind was still fucked up from the dugs coursing through him. He struggled to keep track over everyones movements, closing his eyes to stop from getting nauseous as shadows flew past him, snarls echoed around the room, and growls could be heard from every direction.
It was the drugs. It had to be. There was no way Derek was standing before him. His head was illuminated by the light and he looked like a freaking angel. Someone was shouting his name, but he was too distracted by looking at Derek.
Jess stood between them looking frantic. The others in her pack had fled or been killed, Stiles didn't know, the only one he could see was Jess. She kept her gaze on Derek but it kept flicking back to Stiles. A few cautious steps backwards brought her closer to Stiles, the snarl that ripped from Derek's lungs comforting.
He darted towards her before she could get any closer to Stiles and dragged her back.
Derek stood a few meters away from Stiles he had Jess pulled against him. He had a hand wrapped around her neck with his fingers digging into the soft flesh while she dug her claws into Derek's thigh until blood pooled around her fingers and seeped through Derek's jeans. If Derek was in pain he didn't let it show.
"I've missed you, Derek." Jess said sweetly. Her head fell back against Derek's shoulder, but he acted as if he had even heard her.
"Trying to get to me by hurting what's mine won't work." Derek said.
"You think he's your mate." She laughed, the noise dying in her throat as Derek's hold on her tightened.
"You don't know anything." He whispered in her ear. The words were like the poison currently flowing through Stiles' veins. With one swift movement her neck was ripped apart, her small frame convulsing before he dropped her to the ground with a disdain that Stiles thought was only reversed for when Stiles was irritating him. In one swift movement he had left the mangled corpse behind and was at Stiles' side.
Stiles could feel his eyelids dropping, struggling to stay alert. Derek had just saved his life, the least he owed him was to stay awake.
Erica's head popped up in front of him, fingers snapping impatiently. "Stay with us." She commanded as she moved behind to start untying the binds.
Derek dropped to his knees and ducked his head to lay it on Stiles' lap. As soon as Stiles' hands were free his fingers went instantly to Derek's hair and started combing his fingers through the dark locks. He could hear Scott groaning from somewhere behind them but they were both too focused on each other to care.
"What are they doing?" Scott hissed at Lydia from behind the pair, getting an eye-roll from Lydia. "Are they-" Scott paused, a look of confusion coming over his face. "together?"
"Yeah, Scott." Lydia snapped. "Everyone else has known for a while."
Eventually Derek stood and pulled Stiles up with him, steadying him with a hand on his shoulders. Stiles felt his legs shaking from the drug-hazed days were they had just laid like two lifeless stumps. Isaac was on him in an instant. He wiggled under Derek's arms, wrapping one arm around Stiles' waist and tucking his free fingers under his chin.
"Stiles," he breathed out. Stiles didn't know how to react, had no idea what to say, so he started slowly rubbing his hand on Isaacs back; Isaac was practically purring under his touch, if werewolves do purr. It was more like a low growl that was vibrating from Isaac through to Stiles.
"Enough." Derek growled out and moved as if to step between them.
"Okay. Yeah let's go home. I'm tired and there's a large cheese pizza calling my name." Stiles said while attempting to disentangle Isaac from around him. He could see Erica, Boyd, Jackson, Lydia and Scott out of the corner of his eye, inching to get close to him, their ideas were quickly pushed to the corner of their minds when they saw how Derek grabbed Isaac by the collar of the shirt and pulled him off.
"Well, now whose going to clean this up?" Peter asked. Stiles hadn't even noticed Peter had tagged along, he stood at the back of the group with his arms crossed, the look on his face screamed 'not impressed'. The pack had quickly learnt Peter wasn't into cleaning up after himself, be it at the house or after a fight. He liked to leave the cleaning up to the other betas.
Derek growled at Peter, a grin spreading across his uncles face as he threw his hands up in mock surrender and turned to the exit.
"Not fun being kidnapped, now it is, Stilinski?" Jackson chided, earning him a slap on the arm from Lydia. Stiles wanted to remind him that that was one time, and really, he and Scott did have his best interests in mind. "You need to call your dad. He stopped believing you were at Scott's about two days ago." Jackson told Stiles before following after Peter. The rest of the pack went too, though not before crowding around Stiles and giving him a reassuring brush of their fingers, leaving Derek and Stiles alone.
"Well, let's get out of here." Stiles said, his bottom lip cracking as he attempted to smile. Derek let out a sigh of frustration.
"You don't get it, do you?" Derek's words were tense. "You're not immortal Stiles, when are you going to get that through your head?" His voice was getting louder and louder as he spoke, almost screaming at Stiles. The fury in him only grew when Stiles didn't so much as flinch.
"What? You think I don't realize I'm a human running with a pack of wolves?" Stiles snapped back. He was exhausted and just wanted to go home and sleep, to not have Derek down his neck within five minutes of being freed.
"This isn't a joke, Stiles. You could've-." Derek seemed to struggle for words, letting out a sigh as he waved over Stiles' body. "You're just laughing it off."
He took a step closer to Derek with his hands reaching out to grab any part of Derek but, Derek grabbed him first, his hand balled up in Stiles' ratty t-shirt. Stiles took a deep breath, tilting his head back; Stiles took a deep breath, tilting his head back to bare his throat. He had seen the wolves do it before, knew it was something that the pack did without him. Derek visibly tensed, holding him at arms length with a hunger in his eyes, only pulling Stiles towards him when the teen nodded his approval, letting the teeth dig into his neck, leaving a mark without breaking the skin. Stiles' hands furrowed between their bodies, pressing against Derek's chest; he could feel the approval vibrating through the man before, him making his fingers tingle.
"Good," Derek whispered against his throat, so quiet that Stiles almost missed it. "Don't do that again." Stiles nodded, slipping his hands under Derek's shirt to run his fingers over the taut muscles of his lower back.
"Can we go home now?" Stiles asked. His head was tucked under Derek's chin and he made no effort to move his hands from under Derek's shirt where they pressed against his warm skin. Derek nodded and led him from the empty subway station.
He was on lock down for the rest of his life. When his dad asked him where he'd been he'd only been able to stare at him, opened mouthed, unable to provide an explanation. He knew this was all getting too much, he needed to tell his dad about what was happening but didn't know how.
"Come down when you have an explanation." His dad had said. He didn't have it in him anymore to get mad at Stiles. The sheriff's eyes had flitted over the injuries covering his son's body, particularly the cuts the lined the right side of his face from hitting the cement.
Stiles didn't move from his bed all day, he just didn't have it in him. He figured he deserved a day to himself to lay around after the shit he was put through. Though he didn't hear the window open, he knew Derek had joined him when he felt the mattress shift.
Derek sat on the bed, his head hunched down and his elbows propped on his knees. His whole body seemed to tense when Stiles reached out a hand and rubbed it across his shoulder blades.
"Shouldn't I be the one comforting you?" Derek asked, keeping his head hung as Stiles shuffled over beside him and sat so their hips were pressed together. Fingers grazed at Derek's jaw, turning him so they faced each other, running his thumb across the stubble that coated the hard lines of Derek's jaw. Very gently, Stiles pulled his head towards him, meeting him half-way. He pressed their lips together softly.
Stiles pulled back after a moment and laid back on the bed. Derek laid beside him, not touching him until Stiles huffed and pulled him over.
"I'm not going to break." Stiles said, but Derek didn't look convinced. Eventually they were closer and Derek pressed him into the mattress. His hands ghosted over Stiles' body; never lingering on one spot for more than a few seconds. The willing body beneath his fingers came up to meet him; it was too light for Stiles. He wanted more.
"Derek," Stiles whispered, pushing himself up more as he wrapped his legs around Derek's hips and let his body weight drop until Derek pressed himself closer.
"Stiles, just be still." Derek replied, his voice gruff. He tugged Stiles' shirt over his head and continued to touch every inch of him, fingers skimming over the bruises marring Stiles' pale skin. "Did they touch you?" Derek asked; his eyes were ringed with red. He already knew the answer, he could smell the other pack all over Stiles.
Stiles shook his head and leant up to kiss the man above him. Derek pushed the side of his face into the mattress and licked a strip of the side of Stiles' cheek where he could smell the other Alpha's lingering scent. Derek ignored the sound of disgust from Stiles and continued to licked a line across Stiles' jaw then started kissing down his neck. That Stiles liked and hummed in approval as Derek sucked a mark into the curve of his neck.
"Need to get rid of their scent." Derek panted, moving down Stiles body and supporting himself with an arm on either side of his hips, his head hovering over Stiles' navel. Muscles clenched on Stiles' stomach as a response to Derek's panting breaths tickling him.
"I could always take a shower." Stiles said with a laugh. He ran his hands over Derek's shoulder blades then up through the hair at the nape of his neck.
"You know that's not enough." Derek replied, his tone leaving no room for argument, not even looking up as he spoke. Stiles ran his fingers gently across Derek's scalp, appreciative growls greeting his actions. Fingers ran along the waist band of Stiles' sweatpants, tugging them off once Stiles nodded his approval. He didn't wait for Stiles nod before taking his boxers off, a low growl coming forth when Stiles raised his hips and started to help.
Stiles hands grabbed at the jeans before him, pulling and tugging until Derek moved to take them off himself, jumping back on the second the jeans had tumbled to the ground. Stiles had never realized, until now, how comforting it was to have another persons weight pressed into you. Derek's body pressing into his was like a drug, he craved it, needed it.
Derek's nose brushed up Stiles' neck then along his jaw line. He bit hard against the skin there; Stiles knew it would bruise but didn't have the desire to scold him. Derek's hand were moving lower on Stiles body and he moaned anxiously, surprised when Derek pressed a hand on Stiles' hips to stop him from thrusting up, resting his forehead on Stiles' shoulder.
"Derek?" Stiles asked, he gripped Derek's forearms and squeezed to remind him exactly of what they were getting into, he was not going to be denied sex after almost a week of being tied up.
"None of them could survive if they lost you." Derek said quietly into Stiles' neck, referring to the pack.
"How about you?" Stiles quietly asked after a moment.
"I couldn't. You know that." Derek told him. Stiles nodded slowly.
Derek turned his head and their lips slotted together. The kiss was desperate and needy, with almost too much teeth, but neither of them cared. All Stiles cared about was Derek's body on top of his and getting him out of his boxers.
"If I had known getting kidnapped would lead to sex I definitely would have done it sooner." Stiles joked but Derek didn't laugh, he just pulled Stiles against him and ground his hips down.
"All you have to do is ask." Derek responded with panting breaths, dragging his hand along Stiles' chest, moving to cup Stiles.
Derek seemed intent on running his tongue over every part of Stiles' body. His tongue dipped along every crevice of the skin beneath him, over his hipbones and along his ribs. Stiles was wiggling under him, especially when he hit a spot that made desire build in the pit of his stomach.
Derek's tongue moved everywhere except for the place that Stiles wanted it the most. Fingers weaved through Derek's hair and lightly pushed until his face was over Stiles' cock. He huffed out a laugh and licked at the pre-come that was leaking from the hard arousal beneath him, swirling his tongue around the head of Stiles' cock. Stiles let out a loud groan, hoping his dad wouldn't hear, as the wet heat that was Derek's mouth enveloped him.
Derek kept a hand on Stiles hips to stop him from thrusting up into his mouth. The other hand gripped the base of Stiles cock, pumping it as his tongue swirled over the tip. He pulled back and it made an obscene popping noise as it flopped back up to hit Stiles' stomach.
Derek gripped Stiles' knees and his legs fell open, he pulled him close so that Stiles was in his lap with his back flat against the bed. Derek's hulking frame pressed against Stiles' as he reached for the half empty bottle of lube that was sure to be in the beside drawer. Cold lube was soon lathered over his fingers, those same fingers circling Stiles' hole over and over, an appreciative whimper coming from below him as he slowly pushed one finger inside. Stiles arched his back, his hands dropping from Derek's back to clutch at the bed sheets as a second finger was pushed inside.
"Come on-" Stiles groaned as Derek curled his finger inside him. He lifted his foot to dig it into Derek's lower back as Derek smirked down at him, pushing another finger inside; he scissored him slowly. Derek was being painfully gentle with Stiles and it was bugging the hell out of him. He only managed to open his mouth before Derek cut him off.
"You're hurt, we're taking this slow." Derek said. He added a third finger and pushed until his palm was flat against Stiles ass, wiggling them around slowly inside. The movements elicited a breathy moan from Stiles. "I want you ready for me."
"I am," Stiles said, his breath faltering as Derek pulled a finger out of him and curled the two that remained in him slightly. He pressed down onto Derek more, getting a raised eyebrow for his trouble.
"You sure?" Derek asked, pumping two fingers in him now, the pace increasing. Stiles nodded frantically, one hand gripping Derek's forearm tightly while the other moved over his own cock.
"I want-" Stiles started but lost his train of thought as a Derek gripped the back of his knees in a spot that was so sensitive.
"What do you want, Stiles?" Derek asked. He removed his fingers and took hold of his own arousal, rubbing lube onto his dick before slowly started pushing into Stiles. Stiles would swear it took minutes before Derek was finally buried to the hilt; Derek would disagree. Derek hitched Stiles' knees over his arms when he bottomed out, leaning forward to tug gently at Stiles' earlobe. He started rocking his hips slowly into Stiles; anticipating the moans he could draw from the willing body beneath him.
Stiles pushed his hips down to meet every single thrust, loving how Derek felt inside of him. He had learnt early on in their relationship that he had to keep the noises on the down low; one too many close calls with his father almost walking in on them. But, Derek seemed to enjoy the little moans and noises Stiles made, maybe a little too much. Derek's mouth latched onto his neck, kissing and sucking at a spot he knew was especially sensitive, his lips biting and kissing until Stiles gave him the deep groan he had been looking for.
All Stiles could do to stop himself was coming was focus on the motion of his fingertips digging into the skin of Derek's shoulders. He had the urge to bite something, anything, to stop all the noise he was making. A pillow seemed a good prop, so he dug his teeth into the surface to muffle a groan. Derek reached out a pulled it away.
"I want to hear you." Derek said as he threw the pillow over his shoulder.
"You're the worst," Stiles mumbled, the heat in the pit of his stomach almost overwhelming him as Derek ground his hips down, slowly thrusting himself inside. He just needed to touch himself - his hand snaked down to take care of his needs, but Derek's got there faster. He wrapped a hand around Stiles' shaft, his hand slick as he pumped him in time with his thrusts.
Derek's thumb swirled over the head of his cock and Stiles' came hard. He threw his head back and arched into Derek's hand. Rivulets of come land on his lower stomach and dripped over Derek's hand as he continued to stroke Stiles through it. Stiles made an undistinguishable noise before pulling Derek for a kiss, their lips had barely touched before Derek was pulling away. He propped himself up on his elbows on either side of Stiles' head, his arms were shaking slowly and hid breath was hot against Stiles' neck. It was easy to see how Derek was fighting to remain in control and take it slow.
"Never again." Derek said between thrusts. Stiles nodded mutely. Stiles bit into Derek's shoulder; it stifled his moaning and he knew it wouldn't leave a mark that would last. As much as he wanted to touch Derek, he couldn't contain his hands, moving them to grasp at his bed sheets instead.
The feeling of Stiles teeth on him was enough for Derek, his body tensing on top of Stiles', movements becoming more and more frantic until he finally pulled out, grasping his cock between his fingers and pumping up and down over his shaft quickly until he was coming over Stiles chest. Stiles had barely closed his eyes before a strip hit his cheek.
"You know how I feel about you doing that," Stiles moaned with his arm pressed over his face. He opened one eye to watch as Derek milked himself of every drop of come. It was cooling on his skin, but Stiles knew what was coming next, trying to roll off the bed to clean himself off before he Derek got a hold of him. In an instant Derek was on his lap, immobilizing him, rubbing the semen into his skin. "And that."
"Mine." Derek growled in his ear. The tone of his voice should frighten Stiles it was so possessive, but Stiles didn't find it overbearing at all. He just tucked his head into the crook of Derek's neck.
"You're mine." Stiles said before licking a line from Derek's shoulder to the side of his cheek, taking a page out of Derek's books. He swore that Derek actually cracked a smile at that before he wrapped his arms around his waist to pull Stiles down against him. Their bodies aligned, Stiles rested his head on Derek's chest listening to the steady beat of his heart. The feeling of needing space that Stiles usually experienced after sex was gone, he was perfectly content with just being wrapped up in Derek.
Stiles didn't like to think that he needed reassurance in their relationship, but, with how emotionally constipated Derek was sometimes, he did. Not in the way that Derek would show it either, he had wanted more than just the constant need to be together or the closeness that Derek craved.
Now, laying in his bed with Derek gripping him tightly against his chest, the feeling of suffocating and of being smothered is replaced by the need to hold Derek back just as hard. All he wants is to bury himself in Derek, cling to him with all his strength.
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