So, this is it.
The story is complete. How weird is that?
I want to take a moment to thank EVERYONE for reading, commenting, following and favouriting. It means so much that you've taken an interest in my writing.
I've already started thinking up new stories and my brain is already writing the first chapter to one! So, hopefully, I should have something new up soon.
Thank you so much (again) for reading and I love you all!
One month later.
To say that Stiles was in a good mood would be understatement of the year. He was freaking glowing.
A certain Alpha Werewolf had woken him that morning with little kisses to the back of his neck and he'd then proceeded to lazily suck Stiles off; because, it's Derek and if Derek wants to blow Stiles at seven o'clock in the morning then who the hell is he to disagree?
They'd gone out to breakfast and Derek watched as the teen ate his weight in waffles and that was how Stiles found himself now; in the middle of the school parking lot, leant against the hood of the Camaro as Derek leaned over him, their tongues caught in what the teen was now calling 'epic-public-makeout-session-number-32'.
"Derek – I need – to go to –class" Stiles says between kisses but he makes no effort to move away as the Alpha trails his lips down to his neck and starts to suck and bite at the skin. "Hoooly shit."
Derek chuckles and captures his lips again. "You don't have to go to class, you could get back in my car" he grins wickedly "I just brought a new apartment and it has a bed, which doesn't smell like you yet... so..."
Stiles slaps his arm, "Dammit, don't tempt me. My attendance is already too low" Derek just continues to grin and Stiles sighs heavily "Later?"
Derek rolls his eyes and kisses him once more before standing up straight and pulling Stiles up as well, "You're lucky your Dad's the Sheriff or you wouldn't have a choice about getting back in that car." He grumbles.
"Only because you're scared of my Dad," Stiles smirks, clearly amused by this fact.
"He got bullets off Chris. Bullets to kill me. I'm pretty sure I'm allowed to be scared of him," Derek says, scowling at the teen.
He reaches up and puts his arms around Derek's neck, "It's okay, I won't let my Dad shoot the Big Bad Wolf," he mutters "unless you're acting like an asshole. Then he can shoot you."
"Thanks" he deadpans
"It's okay, you should just be glad that I love you" Stiles laughs and pulls the older man down into a kiss.
"Okay, Loverboy" Erica snaps, "Say goodbye."
Stiles steps away and does as she says (because seriously, Erica is scary) and then they walk into school together. They stop at Stiles' locker to collect his books when Erica freezes up and leans over to him.
"You smell... different" she summarizes, looking uncomfortable as she shifts from foot-to-foot.
"How so?" he asks, slamming his locker closed and zipping up his backpack.
She bites her lip and fights back a laugh "It doesn't matter" she says before disappearing down the corridor; cackling as she goes.
Stiles shakes his head, because even for Erica; that was weird. He doesn't dwell on it as he heads to Chemistry, taking his seat next to Scott and in front of Isaac and Jackson.
The second he sits, Scott is in his space; breathing heavily at his neck.
"Oh my god!" he flails, nearly falling from his seat "personal boundaries, dude!"
"You smell weird" He frowns and Stiles has to lean backwards when he leans in for another sniff.
Leaning backwards, however, seems to be a mistake because both Jackson and Isaac sit forwards and breathe in his scent. Isaac covers his mouth with his hand and averts his eyes because apparently; looking at Stiles is now a very difficult thing to do while Jackson moves away and starts to choke loudly, coughing and spluttering as he waves his hand in front of his face.
"Wha-?" Stiles starts.
"Dude, what the hell?" Jackson yells, drawing the attention of the class. "What have you and Derek been doing this morning to make you smell like... that?"
"I don't get–"
"You smell weird," Scott repeats, his nose wrinkled up in distaste.
"I SMELL JUST FINE!" Stiles shouts, distress pouring out of him.
"Dude," Jackson deadpans, "You smell like sex"
"Oh." He mutters and then Stiles' face breaks into a grin and he winks at his best friend – who looks ready to vomit.