A Mating Moon

unpossible
Summary:
Hey, Scott, so, I uh, theres this amazingly hot guy and Im uh, gonna spend the week
end with him but, you know, just to be careful, Im sending you his picture, so if
by some terrible chance my bloated corpse shows up sometime Monday, just, yknow
pass this along to the authorities. He pauses. Uh. Kidding? and then hangs up with
a rush of air.
That is the worst voicemail in the history of voicemails, Derek says.
Chapter 1: Banquet In The Dark (Black Friday)
Chapter Text

Fucking Peter and his mind games. Derek shifts from foot to foot, tempted, so fr
igging tempted just to go inside the apartment and let it happen. The female ins
ide is aware, is excited. He could go in there, let nature take its course. She
smells good to his wolf, and perhaps his uncle would leave Derek the fuck alone
if he gave in and performed stud duties.
Just the thought of it, though a child, part of the pack and yet not truly Dereks
- no. He thinks of his parents, his brothers and sisters and everything in him r
ecoils.
He swallows hard, tries to ignore the low-level arousal triggered by the knowled
ge that someone is there, warm and fertile and ready to be mounted-
He growls, spins on his heel, and runs. He gets back in the Camaro and drives un
til Beacon Hills is behind him, on to the outskirts of the next town and he leav
es the car there, at a strip mall. He keeps going on foot, knows hes in no state
to drive safely now, with the mating moon close to rising and so very near to fu
ll and the urges beginning to hit.
He has one last bolthole of safety, an apartment Peter knows nothing about, and
Derek heads there by the longest route he can manage, treks through garbage and
stormwater drains on the way to ensure his scent is drowned out by the city. He
can hunker down there and endure the mating moon until it passes. He always has
before.



His route takes him through what this town would laughingly call a red-light dis
trict half a block, really, of varying levels of desperation. Dealers and whores
linger in half-shadows, drifting forward at the sight of a likely customer, a s
low moving car or a shuffling junkie. Theyre not sure what to make of Derek, his
steady run, and he slows his pace a little, doesnt want to draw the wrong attenti
on, not with this itch under his skin and his control half-shredded.
He slows to a walk, takes in a deep breath and damn near falls to his knees.
That scent. Saliva floods his mouth, he breathes in deeper and swallows, fuck, w
hat is that? Like fresh bread and clean sheets, enticing and new and damn near a
ddictive after just a few seconds exposure. He breathes in deep, hands shaky, an
d lifts his head, searching.
Theres a blonde kid under the street light, probably twenty or so, starting towar
d Derek with a practised slink, and nearer to the corner he spies a long, lean s
ilhouette in a darkened doorway. The details he can make out would barely be vis
ible to human eyes in the dark - close-cropped dark hair and pale, pale skin. De
rek walks past the blonde like he isnt even there, eyes fixed on his target, circ
ling toward that divine scent, the pull getting stronger with each step.
Hey, the brunette says, low and inviting, only half-turned toward Derek, enough to
show the rare colour of his eyes. At some point hes learned enough to be wary of
the blonde, who has taken a step forward, fingers curling into fists. Derek gla
res at the blonde warningly and he huffs out a breath and turns away, switching
focus to a car thats cruising the block.
Derek turns his gaze back to the amber-eyed boy. His hands are clenched against
the urge to grab, to sink his face into that smooth, pale throat and just breath
e. He has to, oh God this isnt just about the moon but its worse tonight, urge get
ting stronger and he needs. His hands are still hands and not claws, teeth still
human, but keeping it that way robs him of any finesse which is why he leads wi
th, How much for a whole night?
The whole night? The kid says, startled. It makes his mouth a perfect, tempting o an
d just like that Derek hears the truth of what he really wants slip from his lip
s.
Three nights. The next three nights, you and me.
Uh. The kid just stares. Thatd be... alot, he says, clearly too stunned to think. Or
too tired, maybe, the skin around his eyes is smudged dark with weariness.
Dereks skin is itching, the scent of the boy drifting out to him, tempting as sin
and he says, Five thousand?
Five thousand?
Oh for crying out loud, this kid needs a keeper. At least it means he hasnt been
doing this long, isnt hardened enough to keep up his poker face.
Derek licks his lips, feels his head clear a little from the haze of sex to an o
dd protectiveness. Screw it, hes just gonna lay it all out there. Nights and days,
he says, softly, enticing.
The kid blanches. Days too? What the hell- let me look at you, he demands suddenly
.
Derek steps forward into the brightness under the street light. He usually gets
a better reaction than the way the kid pales and shakes his head, hands coming u
p as if to defend himself.
No, oh shit no. What the hell is your kink, man. What exactly are you wanting to
do to someone for three full days and nights-
What? Nothing. Well, nothing terrible. Fuck. Suck. The usual, Derek says, hopeless
ly confused.
No way. No way someone who looks like you has to pay for that, youre like, into he
avy pain or unsafe bloodplay or some kind of weird shit, sounding or figging or-
No, Derek interrupts, biting back a laugh. For a moment the wolf had snarled in ra
ge at being rejected by this boy. This makes sense, though hes smart, this kid, h
es trying for careful. No. I just. I dont have anyone and I dont want to go out and.
.. he flaps a hand to try and convey the exhaustion of trawling through a club, a
bar, go through all the bullshit. I want to just- he stops and takes a ragged bre
ath, eyes flying to the boy, knowing the raw hunger is all over his face.
He takes a shambling step forward. I want to fuck, I want someone with stamina. he
says, low and rough, I want someone who knows what theyre getting into and wholl s
tay until Im done.
Jesus, the kid breaths. Did you just get off a frigging submarine or out of a monas
tery or something, if youre that horny?
Derek lets out a breathless laugh. Yeah. You could say that. Its been a while.
Hungry, the kid says, awed. His eyes flick up and down Dereks body. He sucks in a q
uick, sharp breath and thats when Derek knows he has him. Ten thousand, he says aft
er a moment, a challenge.
Done, Derek says without hesitation. That pretty jaw drops.
You are fucking kidding me.
He shakes his head, and the kids face twists. They both know the immediate agreem
ent means he could have asked for more and Derek would have happily paid it.
Shit, he says faintly, almost to himself. Its almost worth the risk that youre a seri
al killer.
Im not a fucking serial killer, Derek growls, offended, and yeah, possibly that was
nt the most reassuring way to deliver that message.
Big amber eyes blink at him.
Derek sighs and drags himself under control. His usual surly glares are not goin
g to help this situation. Hes going to have to he winces internally talk. Whats you
r name, kid, and dont- he raises a hand, dont ask me what I want it to be. Make one
up yourself, if you have to.
S-Sam, the kid says, and Dereks eyes narrow.
Its a movie character, or a comic book reference, hed bet his left nut on it. He s
hrugs, then, and says, Im Derek.
Eyebrows go up. That almost sounds like a real name.
Derek eyebrows Sam right back.
Right, Sam says faintly, because a guy wholl pay an underage hooker ten grand has no
thing at all to hide.
Youre underage?
Ah, fuck, the kid says, sounding suddenly exhausted, me and my big mouth. He slumps
back against the wall and sends Derek a pleading glance, Look, only by about two
weeks. I swear. He raises his hands and widens his eyes, possibly the same thing
he does in his fucking high school French class or whatever when he hasnt done hi
s fucking homework.
Jesus H. Christ. Derek pinches the bridge of his nose and closes his eyes.
The wolf doesnt care. The wolf doesnt give two flying fucks what the law says abou
t statutory rape and age of consent, the wolf only cares that this kid will tast
e like summer and trees and cool, bare earth and mate.
Yeah, he hears the kid say faintly, too faintly for human ears. Genius move, Stiles
.
I cant, this, Derek says, clinging to some kind of humanity, some semblance of righ
t and wrong. Hes not an animal-
Look, Derek, Sam says, and he is suddenly very close, warm hand on Dereks forearm o
verwhelming his capacity for thought for a moment and reducing him to pretty muc
h a panting pup. Its pretty obvious that I I need the money. Please. This would, he
swallows, licks his lips and Derek very nearly growls. I dont want to be doing th
is. He gestures behind him, where Derek has been filtering out the sound of the b
londe slurping his way through a blow job in the front seat of the car just arou
nd the corner from where theyre standing. And if you-
Fuck, Derek says, with feeling. Fuck my goddamn fucking life. Hes a moron for hesitat
ing, even for a second. Because if hes not paying the kid for it, someone else wi
ll be. Plenty of someone elses already have. At least Derek will treat him right.
At least hell be safe.
He takes one shuddering breath. All right, kid. Yeah.
And then Sam laughs, suddenly. Wow. Great. So glad I convinced you. All his nerves
are back in his voice again, at the idea of what hes agreed to.
Derek just shakes his head.

Chapter 2: Good Friday
Chapter Text


Hey, Scott, so, I uh, theres this amazingly hot guy and Im uh, gonna spend the week
end with him but, you know, just to be careful, Im sending you his picture, so if
by some terrible chance my bloated corpse shows up sometime Monday, just, yknow
pass this along to the authorities. He pauses. Uh. Kidding? and then hangs up with
a rush of air.
That is the worst voicemail in the history of voicemails, Derek says.
Yeah, well. What am I gonna do? The kid says back, tired.
Nobody knows? That youre out turning tricks on a school night?
Nobody knows, he confirms, head down. Then he raises his phone and Derek glances a
way, to the side, so his eyes dont flare and fuck up the photo. Itll make Sam feel b
etter if it works. Now that his brain is working again hes processed what he hear
d, the real name the kid let slip. Stiles.
Derek has cash, not ten thousand, but at least two grand, at the apartment. Stil
es greets this assurance with the scepticism it deserves, and so Derek uses his
phone banking to transfer two thousand dollars to Stiles bank account just to get
him to walk to the apartment. He puts in a call to his accountant while Stiles
sends the photo to his friend, and arranges for the rest of the money to be made
available tomorrow, for a courier to collect. His accountant doesnt ask what its
for or why hed be calling late on a Friday night, and Derek doesnt volunteer.



They start to walk.
No-ones going to miss you at home? Derek asks. Hes not interested in being harrassed
by an angry foster parent or pimp.
No, the kid says firmly, and thats clearly the end of that conversation. They cover
another block in silence.
So. Um. Stiles is nervous, Derek doesnt need a wolfs senses to know that.
What exactly are you into?
Into?
What, like, dirty talk, heavy bondage? He swallows hard, Fisting?
Figging and sounding mostly, Derek says. Cock cages.
Stiles eyes bug open for a second and then he seems to read Dereks usually inscrut
able poker face. You asshole, he says, and punches Dereks arm.
Derek bites back a grin. The wolf is calmer now, now that what he was seeking is
within reach, and he can control himself - for a while, anyway. And Stiles need
s something to think on while they walk, before he works himself into a state of
total panic. Id like a blowjob, he says, conversational, and the middle-aged woman
walking past him sucks in an offended breath, glaring. Not interested in fisting
, and honestly, Im not even sure what figging is. Id like to fuck you in about six
different positions, none of which involve bondage or dirty talk unless youd lik
e it better that way.
Stiles face is slightly flushed. Okay, he says without specifying if he means yes h
ed like it better or just yes to the fucking, and uh, were playing it safe, right?
Derek eyes him. Sure, he says, your rules. He knows hes clean, and he can smell that
Stiles isnt carrying any kind of disease, but hes not about to suggest barebacking
with a complete stranger to Stiles, who already seems ridiculously vulnerable f
or a teenaged hooker and just might be dumb enough to agree.
Can I ask why youre doing this? He says, again without thinking.
Stiles stiffens. Because I enjoy it so very much, he snarks.
Derek nods. Fair enough, it was a dumb question. You ran into money trouble, he sa
ys, and watches Stiles hands tighten into fists. Or your family did, he thinks. H
es clean and well fed, not living rough.
For a moment Derek lets himself think of what he would have done, if hed found hi
mself in trouble at that age. If hed been the oldest to survive, instead of Laura
. Hed have done anything to keep Emma and Andy and Jacob with him, to provide for
them. Youre just doing it for a while, just to get through a rough patch. Or thats
what youre telling yourself, he thinks with an ache.
Stiles turns his head away and they pace in silence. You, you dont get to- whateve
r youre paying me, Im not gonna talk about that, he grinds out eventually.
Fair enough, Derek says peaceably. The dumb wolf inside him is content as a fricki
n spoiled Pomeranian now that theyre so close to a safe lair.



About a block from the apartment Derek stops. He glances across the street, chec
king one last time for anyone following. But hes been listening, hes been focused
on the scents all around and theres nothing that shouldnt be there.
Stiles shoves his hands into the back pockets of his jeans. So, honestly, were gon
na be locked in your house or apartment or whatever for three days straight. You
dont have to go to work?
Its the weekend, Derek reminds him. Which is why you dont have to go to school, he t
hinks with a wince.
Right, Stiles says as if to himself. He toes at the kerb, head down. Just. Why days
too? I mean, why insist I cant leave? Are you gonna leave at all?
No, Derek says calmly, Im not leaving.
So how are we gonna eat? he asks reasonably enough, though his heart is pounding f
aster.
Delivery.
Stiles hums at that, and Derek can sense his unease, the idea that he will be fo
rced to share space with a stranger for such a long stretch, unrelieved. You can
search the place, if you want. Though as he says it he remembers uneasily that he
stashed chains there, under the sink, in case the wolf ever seemed in danger of
losing control somehow.
Stiles gives him the side-eye, lips quirking. If youre making that offer you eithe
r have nothing to hide, or youve got it hidden it too well for me to easily find.
Derek shrugs. Theres not a whole lot he can say to reassure the kid. Really, noth
ings going to reassure him until hes under Dereks hands and not coming to any harm.
This your building? Stiles asks.
On the corner, Derek jerks his chin towards it and leads the way across the street
. This isnt where I live, he adds, wanting to cut down on possible freak-outs at th
e Spartan decor. I just keep this place to... get away from my family sometimes.
Stiles brows lift just faintly.
Derek eyes him, so full of hesitation and yet so determined, and says simply, Sec
ond floor. Then he turns, jogs across the street and goes inside the building. He
cant make Stiles do this.
Hes pulled the envelope of money free of its hiding place and is unwrapping the p
lastic bag that had surrounded it when he hears Stiles footsteps in the hallway.
Derek lets out one silent breath of relief. Then he turns his head, waiting, and
Stiles appears in the open doorway. Hes made his decision, steps into the apartm
ent without any further hesitation, and when he reaches Dereks side he silently a
ccepts the envelope, opens the flap and runs long fingers over the wrapped bundl
es of bills.
Its purest luck it was still there. Its blood money, to Derek. Compensation from t
he Argent family for Kates part in the fire. Hed very nearly burnt- thrown it away
. But then. Peter had been acting so erratically, in the months after the fire,
worse after hed finally killed Kate, and it had seemed more than reasonable to ma
ke a bolthole for himself. Dereks age had meant his share of the insurance money
had already gone into a trust, this had been the only money left Peter couldnt ha
ve traced.
Stiles lifts his head, meets Dereks eyes. Im going to stash this, he says bluntly, a
nd Derek hears the unspoken Im not leaving it somewhere within your reach. Derek
just nods. Hes not worried, he knows Stiles has committed himself, now, its in the
steady race of his heartbeat. Controlled panic.
The kid eyes him, as if hed been expecting an argument, and Derek suddenly needs
to touch. Something to show them both this is happening, its inevitable. So he ra
ises his right hand, slowly, and palms that soft, smooth jaw. Stiles goes still,
and then Derek drags his thumb slowly across his bottom lip, drawing the slight
est trace of moisture and a quick, indrawn breath. Hurry back, he rumbles, and sli
des his hands into his back pockets so he wont grab.
R-right, the kid says, and stumbles back on coltish legs. Derek waits thirty secon
ds, tracking the heartbeat down onto the street, and then lets himself out of th
e apartment, locks the door and follows the steady sound along darkened streets.
Stiles jogs six blocks south. Running probably isnt the smartest of ploys, but De
rek can well imagine that much cash tucked under his shirt must feel like its mar
ked with a neon sign and a target on Stiles back. Especially since he clearly nee
ds it badly. Near the bowling alley his steps slow, and he ducks down the side o
f the building. Derek loses sight of him for a minute or two, climbs a fire esca
pe and listens, and when he zeroes in on the sounds he finds Stiles half in-half
out of the back of a blue Jeep. From the sounds of it hes making some changes, p
opping off a compartment in the wall, maybe, or lifting up the spare tyre. Whate
ver it is, itll leave the envelope fairly well concealed, and Derek contents hims
elf to sit and watch for possible trouble.
When hes done, when its silent, Stiles doesnt straighten, doesnt slam the door. Dere
k listens carefully, hears the low, shaky pep talk the kid is giving himself wit
h his last moments of privacy. Youll be okay. Be smart. Be careful. You need thi
s.
His heart aches a little, and he turns his head away. The wolf might just want t
o mark his mate, but the man isnt going to be able to rest until he knows why thi
s kid is in this sort of bind. Hes smart, hes a good kid, he should have other opt
ions.
He listens to Stiles lock the Jeep and only waits long enough to confirm hes head
ed back toward the apartment. He jogs along rooftops, thinking, and about halfwa
y back to the apartment he leaps down and crosses to a late-night grocery thats h
e checks ten minutes from closing.
He shoves inside and eyes the lanky guy behind the counter, the face full of pie
rcings. He looks bored. Derek steps to the counter and tries a half-smile. Hey, he
offers. So, uh. I just got back from a long trip and I have literally nothing in
my place. But Ive got the guy of my dreams on his way over to spend the weekend,
and I really need at least the basics.
The guy is staring blankly at him. Derek slides a hundred out of his wallet and
slaps it on the counter. Do you think you could put together a few bags of essent
ials? He puts another hundred on the counter beside it. You deliver it after closi
ng and theres another hundred in it for you. Im only a few blocks from here.
Now the guy is showing some interest. He eyes Derek. A hundred. Just for deliveri
ng.
He shrugs. Worth it to me.
The first hundred slides off the counter. I guess I can do that. Yeah. Essentials
, huh?
Ive been away for almost a year, Derek says. Ive got absolutely nothing there.
Okay. The guy says, and eyes the other hundred like hes already spent it as Derek t
akes it away again. Okay.
138 Randall. Apartment 4.
Got it.
Derek gives him a nod and slips out of the store, runs all the way back to the a
partment. Hes waiting there, not even out of breath, when Stiles knocks on the do
or.
Hes carrying a plastic bag. Derek eyes it questioningly. Change of clothes, he expl
ains, then flushes. And lube.
Good thinking. Derek steps aside and listens to the deep breath Stiles takes befor
e he steps into the apartment. His eyes travel over the place, its small enough t
hat theyre already only a couple of paces from the couch Derek had rescued from t
he sidewalk, kitchen benches running along the back wall. Through the doorway th
eres a bed visible, with a packing crate beside it for a table. Derek had been re
lieved to find he had at least had the forethought to leave behind sheets and to
wels and a few plates and utensils.
Stiles lets the bag of clothes slide through his fingers to the floor and turns
to face Derek. Ive got some rules, he says, as Derek closes in. The kids heart is ha
mmering, much more fear than arousal, and theres really only one way for Derek to
ease that. Words are worthless now.
First, no kis-
Dereks mouth covers his and Stiles jolts, makes a small noise and one hand clamps
around the wolfs upper arm. His fingers are tight, and Derek tilts his head, lic
ks across Stiles bottom lip and swallows the noise of surprised pleasure the kid
makes. It goes on and on, slickness and softness and heat and Derek moans, pulls
back enough to take a quick breath and goes in again, arms wrapping around Stil
es body. Theyre pressed together at every possible point, chests, bellies, thighs
and Derek has a moment to think this is too much, were strangers, hell panic befor
e Stiles brings his hands around to palm Dereks ass and really gets into the kiss
.
When it breaks, long minutes later, theyre both panting. Stiles mouth is wet and r
ed, eyes blown wide. Derek forces his brain back into gear. They were doing some
thing before they started kissing, right? You - you were saying something.
Was I?
He just nods, feels the corner of his mouth quirk. Yeah.
Okay. I quite literally have absolutely no idea what it was.
Derek shrugs. Probably not important, then. And dives back in for another kiss. He
noses his way along that pale jaw at some point and catches a whiff of a strang
ers seed, and flinches, remembering what Stiles had been doing on that street in
the first place. He pulls back. You should shower.
I should? Stiles is blinking at him.
Yeah, Derek replies, loosening his arms. Ive arranged for some groceries to be deliv
ered, they should be here soon. You get cleaned up, and his voice slows as he thi
nks of Stiles, naked in a steamy room...
Jeez, you were not kidding about your level of horniness, the kid says, a kind of
stunned admiration in his voice. Its probably lucky Stiles doesnt understand that
while this is partly about the mating moon, the vast majority of Dereks reactions
are just due to Stiles himself. Dereks eyes flick back up from their survey of h
is body.
No, he says. I really wasnt.


Chapter 3: Thank God It's Friday
Notes:
Jan 27 - one time offer. Send me suggestions for the very crappiest and/or most
embarrassing coffee mug Derek would have dumped at his bargain basement hideaway
slash shack-o-love. Extra points for a canon tie-in.
Clarification: By 'French press' I mean a coffee plunger. I wasn't sure which te
rm a native of California would use, so I went with the more elegant sounding ph
rase.
Chapter Text


The grocery guy comes through in ways Derek hadnt even begun to imagine. Wow, he sa
ys, more than once, and then thinks, stunned all over again, that he is somehow
starting to sound like Stiles. But seriously. He puts the cold items in the bar
fridge hed bought second hand three years ago and is rifling through another bag
as the guy shuffles inside from his second trip. Hes thought of far more than jus
t the bread and milk and cereal Derek was expecting. Hand lotion? Derek stares b
lankly for a moment, then sees the guys face and realizes it was in case they did
nt have lube. Condoms. Two toothbrushes and toothpaste. Disposable razors. Snacks
. Laundry detergent. A package of really good coffee tucked in beside, ridiculou
sly, a French press.
Its been in the break room for over a year, the guy says when Derek picks it up. No-
one even knows who it belongs to.
Thanks, Derek manages to say. Hes kind of overwhelmed by the thoughtfulness behind
this. He glances up at grocery guy, who shrugs and shoves his hands into his bac
k pockets.
I just broke up with someone, had to move out and start from scratch. I just... r
emembered, thats all.
They stare at one another for a second and then the guy says, Guy of your dreams.
.. Hurt flashes over his face for a second, hes clearly thinking of his ex. You sho
uld get a real shot at that, yknow?
I. I really dont, Derek thinks. Hes just not accustomed to kindness, from anyone, le
t alone from strangers. And hes certainly not accustomed to getting a shot at any
thing he really wants.
Hes made a point of building a shell around himself ever since the fire. Only Lau
ra is allowed inside, though Peter can occasionally break through, and Derek kee
ps up a surly, near-silent front for everyone else he encounters. Laura scolds h
im about it every time they Skype. But this- this is- really terrific.
Theres a pause, not exactly awkward, and then Derek is reaching for his wallet be
cause the guy has totally earned it when, Holy cow, comes a familiar voice over De
reks shoulder, at least were definitely not going to starve.
Stiles is in the doorway, towel hitched around his hips. Droplets of water still
cover his shoulders and he looks fucking edible. A second later he catches sigh
t of the grocery guy and flushes all over, and Derek is instantly hard. Uh, Stiles
says, and shuffles back a little, almost out of sight. Hey, he manages weakly, ha
nd tightening on the towel.
Hey, the guy says, in Stiles direction, and offers Derek a smug half-smile and an
eyebrow-raise somehow implying yeah, nice as he takes a step toward the door. Hav
e a good weekend.
Derek manages not to be a jealous asshole and just hands over the well-earned hu
ndred with a wry look, closes and locks the door behind the guy and turns.
So, Stiles begins faintly. Sorry for flashing your delivery guy?
Dereks already forgotten grocery guy. His eyes are fixed on Stiles naked chest, th
e line of his throat, his elegant hands. Im gonna blow you now, Derek says, pulling
his shirt over his head as he crosses into the bedroom. And then, when youre nice
and loose from coming, Im gonna fuck you.
O-kay, Stiles says faintly, eyes blown already with arousal, and damn, Derek feels
about ten feet tall that the kid can respond to him like this, despite the thin
gs he must have done and seen since he started down this path.
He drops to his knees and watches, heavy lidded, as Stiles slumps back against t
he wall with a soft sound of disbelief. For the first time in a long time Derek
is thinking about how he looks, hoping Stiles likes what hes seeing, finds Derek
sexy instead of threatening. He does, if the soft run of god oh god oh god that
is falling from his lips is any indicator.
Derek reaches out a hand to circle Stiles ankle, still slightly damp, and runs hi
s cupped hand up his calf, fingertips lingering at the delicate skin behind his
knee, sliding up under the towel and Stiles breath hitches. Derek grins faintly,
his other hand sweeping up to tug at the towel and it unravels without warning,
leaving a flushed, naked Stiles at Dereks mercy.
Just where he wants him.
He leans in and takes a deep breath of that wonderful Stiles-smell, half drunk o
n it, dips lower and noses the balls hanging loosely, lips at them and hums in s
atisfaction at the surge in pheromones that fill the air. Then he looks up, lock
s eyes with Stiles and licks a deliberate stripe up the kids hard cock. Its lucky
Dereks had so much practice ignoring his own hard-ons.
Oh fuck, Stiles manages. His hands are gripped tightly into fists, and hes panting
as he stares down at Derek.
A thought strikes Derek and he leans back. This your first blow job?
Stiles nods dumbly. A-amazingly enough, he manages, people are not lining up around
the block to pay me money in order to suck my dick.
The flash of possessive satisfaction that rips through him shouldnt be startling
but it is. Derek smiles slowly. Good, he says, and gets to it.
He tries everything, cant help but listen for the tiny hitching breaths that tell
him when Stiles really likes something. He plays a little, running his tongue a
long the underside and sucking lightly on the head, spreads his palms wide on th
e kids thighs and has to take a breath, slotting away for future reference how mu
ch he really likes the look of his own tanned forearms against the pale skin the
re.
He noses down again and gently sucks one ball into his mouth, then the other, ge
ts a high whine for that and grins to himself. He slants another glance up and S
tiles is staring helplessly at him, chest and face flushed, eyes full of wonder.
Without breaking eye contact Derek licks his way up Stiles cock and takes it int
o his mouth.
Oh fuck, Stiles moans, and his knees give a little. Derek steadies him with a firm
grip on his hips and takes a deep breath in through his nose. He hasnt done this
in a while, but hed gone through a definite cocksucking phase there in his late
teens and hes determined to make this memorable. He slides his lips down and down
, keeps breathing and sucks hard. It wont take much Stiles is, after all, a teena
ger getting his first blow job. He swallows around the head of Stiles cock and so
aks in the shit, fuck, Im close Stiles chokes out. Derek traces the vein with his
tongue and thats it, game over, Stiles lets out a wrenching groan and curls forw
ard, gasping with each pulse as he comes.
Derek swallows it, eyes closed and hands gripping tight. Stiles legs are wobbly a
s hell and once his actual orgasm has stopped Derek gentles his hands and pulls
back a little, and as hed suspected, Stiles slides down the wall, cock slipping o
ut of Dereks mouth as he goes. He sprawls on the floor in front of Derek in a gri
nning, satisfied heap.
Derek does some deep breathing to pull himself back from the edge. Its ridiculous
how much he wants this young man, this kid.
This, this is where youre gonna fuck me, right, Stiles manages, chest heaving, and
his tone is right, rough and dirty and half-teasing, but theres a hitch in his he
artbeat, in his scent that tells Derek hes suddenly scared.
He freezes for a moment as rage sweeps through him, because he knows what that l
ittle hitch means. Someone, some asshole, handled this kid roughly, or didnt take
no for an answer, and here he is, gritting his teeth, ready to suffer through a
nother round of the same.
Derek keeps his eyes downcast, waiting for the blue haze of rage to pass, for hi
s eyes to return to normal. Mind racing, he reaches for the fly of his jeans and
forces his voice out, rough and low and full of heat. Or maybe, he says, Ive decide
d I want to make a mess all over that sweet face of yours. By the time hes finishe
d saying it, the idea has him twitching and so when he looks up, he knows Stiles
will believe him, wont find any compassion or concern on Dereks face to make him
defensive.
You gonna mark me, big guy? Stiles says, smirking. His heartbeat steadies, and the
languid line of his body where he is slumped, sated, against the wall has Derek
breathing deep in primal satisfaction. He has pleased his mate, and so he strai
ghtens, hand moving swiftly to draw his cock out of his boxers, stroking himself
roughly, just the way he likes.
Yeah, he replies, voice low. Yeah Im gonna mark you, kid. Stiles flutters his lashes
in reply, licks his lips in the filthiest way possible and tilts his head like h
es offering his throat to the wolf. Derek gasps, electrified at the thought, and
its soon, ridiculously soon, thats hes coming with a harsh moan, striping all over
Stiles face, his throat, his chest.


Chapter 4: Freaky Friday
Notes:
as noted in the previous chapter, I'm looking for a suggested lame coffee mug De
rek would have left at his skeevy Apartment of Solitude. The more embarrassing,
the better.
Chapter Text

They remain as they are for a while, Derek catching his breath and Stiles relaxi
ng slowly, eyes running over Derek with equal parts curiosity and salacious inte
rest. Derek has just enough time to thank his lucky stars that Stiles teenage lib
ido will be able to keep up with the mating moon before Stiles says, So. Uh. Show
er?
Definitely, Derek replies and pulls Stiles to his feet. He blinks in surprise and
seems to suddenly notice his own nudity, flushing in a completely enticing manne
r. Dereks dick takes an immediate interest and he rolls his eyes at himself. He n
udges Stiles toward the bathroom and starts the water immediately, remembering f
rom bitter experience just how long it takes to heat up.
Stiles leans back against the bathroom wall as Derek strips the rest of the way
and only when he glances up does Derek realize the kids still covered in his come
streaks on his face and throat, down his chest. The wolfs a natural part of him,
he accepts all the instincts that come with it, but every now and then it just
feels weird when that behaviour collides with his human life.
He flushes and turns to grab a cloth, though it takes a good three minutes to fi
nd one buried amongst the towels under the sink. He seems to have left a lot of
towels probably anticipating bleeding wounds. He holds the cloth under the showe
r - yep, waters still cold - and offers it to Stiles, who seems slightly amused b
y Dereks sudden wish to clean him up.
Thanks, he manages, and wipes down his face and chest. Derek just nods, feeling te
n kinds of awkward, and finally he just climbs into the shower, forcing himself
not to flinch under the icy spray. Stiles, of course, joins him, with a shocked,
Jesus, and Derek shifts to catch most of the water on his shoulders.
Well, Stiles says, and leans back against the wall. Arent you the gentleman.
Derek stares at him. Hes done a lot of talking tonight, way more than he usually
would, and post-orgasm he seems to have found the well has run dry. He steps clo
ser to Stiles instead and does what hes been resisting for the last five minutes,
he kisses him. Stiles relaxes against him immediately and they stay like that,
pressed together and exploring each other sweetly until finally Stiles says, We s
hould probably clean up. Uh. Soap?
Derek glances around. Shit. Still in the grocery bag, he sighs. He never had finis
hed unpacking the damn supplies.
He ignores Stiles snort of amusement and strides into the lounge room, bare-assed
and freezing. In the doorway of the bathroom, however, he halts. Stiles is unde
r the spray, face turned up, and when he turns to glance at Derek his eyelashes
are dark with moisture, lips wet and gleaming. He raises his eyebrows. Any luck?
Derek sighs and raises the bottle in his hand. Green Tea Ultra Body Wash with Org
anic Goats Milk. he reads, utterly deadpan and Stiles laughs and laughs.
Okay, he sputters, and pulls Derek back into the shower. This could mean that eithe
r he took one look at this physique and decided youre a man who treats his body l
ike a temple, or-
Or?
Stiles snickers, Or this is an overpriced item theyve been trying to unload for mo
nths.
Ill take door number two, Derek murmurs, and pours some of the stuff into his hand.
Amusement dies pretty quickly when he starts to work up a lather over Stiles sho
ulders and Stiles catches the excess and moves it to Dereks chest.
It doesnt take long from there, probably thirty seconds later and they are openly
grinding against one another, erections sliding and Derek is biting gently at S
tiles bottom lip while Stiles gasps into his mouth. Fuck, shit, he moans, oh god, t
hat, that, yeah-
Dereks soapy hands slide down Stiles back to palm his ass and the kid moans again,
lower and rougher this time, Im close, he manages, and his body writhes sinuously
against Derek.
Yeah, Derek rumbles back, and then opens his mouth and kisses Stiles deeply, utter
ly filthy, his fingers digging in to the two perfect globes. Stiles slides a han
d up Dereks neck and sinks a hand into his wet hair, grip surprisingly strong and
rough.
Stiles entire body shudders against his and he cries out, God, oh, fuck, Im-
Derek growls and shifts his leg just enough to grind against Stiles hip as he bit
es down on the tendons that are cording in the kids neck and thats it, game over,
he comes in a hot rush all over Stiless belly.
And then theyre panting through the afterglow again, leaning up against the showe
r recess instead of the bedroom wall.
Can you die from sex? Stiles wonders, sounding completely undisturbed at the prosp
ect.
Derek half-smiles, then flinches as the boiler abruptly quits. I dont know but I m
ight possibly die from this freezing fucking water. They clean up swiftly and get
out of there, drying themselves in silence and its only then that Derek looks up
and notices all over again the weariness in Stiles face that hed noticed on the s
treet two hours earlier.
Suddenly its weird again, and Stiles is eyeing the bed like its some kind of femme
fatale with poisonous lips. He wants to but he doesnt. Derek doesnt even need an
explanation. They may have had hot sex, but sleeping with someone is a whole oth
er level of intimacy, the kind where you suddenly think I only just met this guy
.
He pulls on a pair of sweatpants from his small stash and gestures to the bed. Im
not tired, he says with perfect truth. You go ahead and catch some sleep, if you w
ant. Im going to order Chinese, whatever I dont eat Ill stick in the fridge so if y
ou wake up at midnight or whatever, feel free.
Stiles eyes him warily, halfway through pulling his boxers back on.
Youre not-
I can sleep on the couch.
Stiles straightens. Hesitates for a long moment. Then says, No, its fine. He shrugs
.
You sure?
Hes staring at Derek curiously, and then offers a smile so ridiculously sweet Der
ek swears there are fucking bluebirds tweeting around the kids head and flowers s
pringing up at his feet wherever he steps. Yeah, he says, Im sure.
Okay. Well. Uh. Im still gonna -eat first.
Stiles just nods and takes a step toward the bed. He puts one knee on the mattre
ss and glances over. Uh. See you later, then?
Derek rolls his eyes at the awkwardness. Yeah, he husks as Stiles folds his length
down on Dereks sheets. Later.

Chapter 5: Come Saturday Morning
Notes:
Ok, I didn't want to wait any longer to post this chapter so I'm declaring a win
ner of the coffee mug comp. Thanks so much to _char for the suggestion. It took
me in a whole other direction (I had been thinking of the kind of giveaway mug s
o lame no-one wants it) and brought Laura back into the story for me.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text

Derek opens his eyes and there is a sight to tempt the strongest of wills a pale
wrist, the soft inner skin exposed, resting close enough to his mouth to taste.
Obviously its no co-incidence he ended up here.
At first hed genuinely intended to sleep on the couch. Anyone who works the kind
of shifts Derek does learns to sleep anywhere, anytime. Hed wasted a good two hou
rs on the couch, nowhere near sleep before hed admitted he was kidding himself. H
e wanted the closeness, he wanted his mate. Even a temporary mate.
So hed compromised. Hed tried to exile himself to one side of the bed only, had ce
ded the single pillow to Stiles without a thought, but in sleep his body had sou
ght out that scent that will always draw him in. He takes in a deep, greedy brea
th even as he thinks it, and lips gently at the blue vein beneath the skin. Hes h
ungry again, the need growing now that today is the actual full moon. Bad enough
last night, when hed stayed awake until the early hours of the morning and jacke
d off while listening for Stiles breathing like a creeper. But the kid had needed
rest, and Derek hadnt had the heart to wake him. So hed pleasured himself instead
, and it had gotten him through the night.
But now. It was morning. And Stiles was. Right. There.
Hes just resting his teeth against Stiles wrist when he hears that familiar voice.
You know, when I opened my eyes this morning I was sure I was still dreaming.
Derek turns his head. Their eyes meet and Stiles smiles a little, still sleepy a
nd sweet. Back when I was figuring out I liked boys as much as girls, I kept havi
ng these repetitive dreams. They freaked me out at first, but once I figured it
out, they turned into my favourites. And they looked a hell of a lot like this.
A hot guy, naked, clearly into me.
Derek bites gently on Stiles forearm, still watching.
His breath catches but Stiles goes on. Only difference between this and real life
- well, two differences. First, youre way hotter than my imagination ever supplie
d.
Derek flicks up his eyebrows. And?
And in the dream, I always had a nice healthy mouthful of cock, Stiles adds, and D
ereks entire body catches ablaze. Its the filthiest thing hes ever heard Stiles say
, and he has to just breathe for a moment, which is how he explains Stiles manag
ing to roll him over and straddle Dereks very willing body.
The new position presses their hard cocks together and Stiles grinds just lightl
y as he says, Now, I have been here for a whole night, hours and hours and in all
that time, all the cocksucking has been yours. You dirty, he grinds, rotten, circl
es his hips, withholder.
You needed permission? Derek gasps, hands curling around Stiles thighs.
The kid grins and slithers down Dereks body without another word.
Derek lifts his head because theres no way hes not going to watch this and fuck, i
t could all be over in seconds because the sight of Stiles, that soft sweet mout
h parting as he deliberately licks his lips, watching Derek the whole time, then
slides his mouth over the head of Dereks dick- fuck, fuck, he slams his eyes shu
t before he loses it completely.
God, he moans, already undone and shit, he is going to say something stupid, he ju
st knows it. He presses a hand over his mouth to stop it and then his eyes fly o
pen on an idea.
Stop, he says, wait.
He glances down again mistake and shudders and then Stiles is pulling off with a
pop and saying, Seriously?
You ever try a sixty-nine? Derek says without thinking and Stiles eyes go very wide
.
Uh. He says, and licks his lips again, this time with much less deliberate intent.
Derek looks away swiftly before he loses it, focuses on Stiles tented boxers ins
tead. No.
You want to?
Yeah, and this time when Derek looks Stiles is pushing up to kneeling on the bed,
nodding slowly. I think I could definitely, uh, get into that-
Dereks done talking. He pushes the kid onto his back, kisses him deep and slow un
til he makes a noise of surrender in the back of his throat and then Derek leans
back. Their eyes lock for a second before Derek starts kissing his way down Sti
les chest, hands busy tugging off the kids boxers while Stiles lifts his hips to h
elp. He nudges until Stiles is diagonal on the sheets, because there is just no
way to sell falling off the bed as sexy, and hes seen way too many embarrassing s
ex injuries on the job to ignore the chance.
He turns on the bed, nuzzling his way down Stiles belly and loving the sudden swi
ft beat of the kids heartbeat in his ears, so close to the artery. He wraps an ar
m around Stiles hip and tugs so the kid rolls onto his side, flush up against Der
eks much warmer body, and then glances down toward Stiles. Stiles, who is staring
down the length of his own body, panting, eyes wide.
I have really got to stop thinking this is the hottest thing thats ever happened t
o me, he murmurs against Dereks thigh. Because I keep being wrong and were not even
halfway through which means theres still time left for me to have a heart attack-
Stop talking, Derek says and licks at the head of Stiles cock.
Oh fuck, he says faintly, and noses forward toward Dereks straining erection.
Derek takes Stiles in deep and just breathes for a moment, overwhelmed by scent
and skin and the feeling of closeness. The same soap, their combined scents on t
he sheets and the sheer rightness of Stiles himself are completely screwing with
his control, his emotions. Then his cock disappears into wet heat and he moans,
hears an answering groan from Stiles and shit, this is not going to take long a
t all.
He runs his tongue around the hot length in his mouth, tries to ignore his own r
ising pleasure and slides his hands up the long lean thighs in front of him. He
can hear Stiles breathing deep, half-whining each time, and Derek sucks hard for
a moment, drawing back along the length as he does and Stiles mouth stutters aro
und him before Derek softens his lips and slides back down. His hands keep movin
g, sliding around until he can grip the soft smooth globes of Stiles ass and he s
queezes, moans again as Stiles tongues his slit and only just stops his hips fro
m jerking, hard, into that clever mouth.
Dereks wrist knocks against something, he realizes a beat later its the tube of lu
be hed used to jerk off last night and just like that hes decided. He fumbles madl
y with it, gets some on at least one finger and slides up to Stiles pucker withou
t hesitating. Dereks close, so close, and but he wants Stiles to come first. His
finger slides inside without much resistance and Stiles hips buck, driving his co
ck into Dereks throat as he makes an incoherent sound around Dereks dick.
Derek swallows around him, curls his finger and Stiles groans harshly, mouth sli
pping away for a moment as he comes and then hes back and he sucks hard, sucks an
d sucks with each pulse of his climax and Derek squeezes his eyes shut and clenc
hes every part of his body as his orgasm seems to rip upwards from his feet thou
gh every part of his body until hes left limp, dazed and gasping with his face pr
essed into Stiles thigh.
The room is utterly silent, apart from their mingled harsh breathing.
Derek gathers himself together and crawls up the bed like a new-born colt, shaky
and directionless. He collapses beside Stiles, who flings out a hand to rest on
his neck and another couple of minutes pass while they recover.
Stiles, unsurprisingly, is the first to speak. Jesus, he says.
Derek waits for more. Theres usually more.
Just. Jesus.
Yeah, Derek husks back. The room falls silent again.

***

Dont take this the wrong way, Stiles says, and takes another huge sip of coffee. But
I kind of want to date your delivery guy. His eyelids actually flutter when he i
nhales the (apparently) blessed aroma of coffee. Derek is counting himself lucky
grocery guy thought of coffee at all, since it looks like Stiles is one of thos
e cant-live-without-caffeine types.
Stiles doesnt seem to notice hes using the Keep Calm and Think of Shirtless Jacob
coffee mug Laura, the cow, must have planted here just before she left. Its obvio
usly brand new, the only thing in the apartment that is new, which implies that
Derek bought the fucking thing on purpose. She is gonna pay.
Derek hesitates, then says, I dont like your chances. Hes got us down as some kind
of written-in-the-stars romance. He glances down at the table and realizes Stile
s has already eaten a bowl of cereal, rinsed out the only bowl and spoon and pla
ced them back on the table for Derek to use, next to the box of Lucky Charms and
the milk. He blinks, utterly dumbfounded.
To someone with Dereks history, that small gesture feels a lot like a written-in-
the-stars romance.
Stiles raises his eyebrows, Uh?
He deliberately turns to the fridge before he says, I told him I had a shot at th
e guy of my dreams and paid him to drop off some essentials. He knows without loo
king Stiles eyebrows have just hit the stratosphere. Apparently hes a closet romant
ic.
Or a little challenged, if he still believes that story.
Derek turns back, juice bottle in his hands and raises his own eyebrow. Oh? The no
te of cynicism in Stiles voice doesnt suit him.
Stiles blinks. Well, seriously. Having seen me? He waves a hand between them, And y
ou? Youre like, so out of my league, I mean, your dream guy would be someone like
Zachary Quinto or one of the Hemsworth brothers or something. Stiles eyes glaze o
ver a little and he says dreamily, Hmm.
Are you seriously picturing me fucking Spock right now? Derek demands in disbelief
.
Stiles jumps guiltily. Uh, no?
Derek is fighting back a grin. This kid is ridiculous. So you think Im out of your
league. Derek ...isnt sure what to do with that. Youre wrong, he says simply, and go
es to the cupboard for a glass.
Stiles snorts. Yeah, whatever.
Hey, who paid who here? Derek retorts, and instantly feels like an ass.
Theres a moment of silence and then, Right, Stiles says, quiet and brittle.
Shit. Derek closes his eyes and offers a silent apology to his mother, who would
be furious with him right now for being such a thoughtless ass. Stiles is a swe
et kid, for all his mouthiness and his bravado, Derek has no idea how he has sur
vived this long working the streets and still stayed mostly intact.
He pours a half-glass of juice and drinks it in one go. Puts the glass down and
tells himself, Man up. He ambles across to the table and pulls Stiles to his fee
t.
He has no idea what to say to make it right, hes utterly crap at talking. Clearly
.
He kisses Stiles instead. Soft, gentle as he can manage, trying to put sorry and
dont think less of you and want you in the slant of his lips and the soft drag o
f his stubble. When he pulls back Stiles is flushed, eyes downcast, and hard as
iron.
Thanks for making breakfast, Derek says.
Stiles raises his brows. Glances past Derek to the table and shakes his head. Man
, he says, your standards are worryingly low.
Derek lets that one go, takes a seat instead and lets Stiles talk. He half tunes
-out, a little hypnotised by the gentle rise-and-fall of Stiles voice and the unp
redictable gestures of his hands. Derek is more than a little hot for Stiles hand
s. When he registers distress, however, he tunes back in immediately.
Wait a minute. How did I not- no way, he says, and Derek straightens, glancing aro
und for a threat.
What?
No TV? Stiles pales, staring around the apartment like its personally betrayed him.
What the hell?
He sinks back and relaxes. You didnt notice last night? Derek asks, bemused.
I had other things to focus on last night, he shoots back.
Right. Pretending he wasnt resigned to a forced ass-fucking, Derek thinks miserab
ly.
How can there be no TV?
Derek maybe should have anticipated this anguish at being parted from the basics
of teenage survival. I uh, hardly ever come here. Usually I read. And jerk off, h
e thinks wryly.
I love a good book too, but man, what the hell did you think we were gonna do all
day? Then Stiles flushes beet red. Unless youre on some kind of- shit, are you tak
ing something to up your sex drive? Because, yknow, a body can only take so much-
Stiles, Derek says, calm down. Im not on anything. I have the normal sex drive of an
y other young man who finds their partner sexually attractive. Okay, that may hav
e been a teensy lie.
You find me sexually attractive, Stiles says faintly.
You didnt intuit that last night? Derek raises an eyebrow.
I thought, I dont know, I thought you were maybe closing your eyes and thinking of
Ryan Gosling or something.
No. I was looking at you, Derek says patiently. You turn me on. If that blonde kid
had been the only one standing on that street I would have walked on by without
stopping.
Huh. Stiles is staring. He seems to have forgotten how to blink.
Im sorry I dont have a TV, Derek says after the silence stretches out long enough fo
r even him to feel awkward.
Yeah. That. Um. Suddenly seems less important, Stiles replies. Then his eyes widen
. What did you call me? He skitters away swiftly, until his back slams into the ki
tchen counter. How the fuck do you know my-
You said it on the street last night, Derek says swiftly, raising his voice just e
nough to be heard. Genius move, Stiles, he quotes, and raises his hands in the unive
rsal gesture for I am not a kidnapper/rapist/serial killer/terrorist/internation
al art thief/werewolf. He tries to make himself look smaller and non-threatening
, which is no mean feat for a beta werewolf in the prime of his life, especially
one who has to actually consciously remember not to scowl.
Genius move, Stiles, he can see the kids mouth silently repeating. Right, he finall
y says, very softly. First of many dumb moves I made last night, apparently.
Was Sam a comic book character? Derek asks. He really, really wants to get them ba
ck on an even keel right now. He selfishly does not want Stiles to think of Dere
k as a bad decision.
What? Stiles gives him a look like, are you insane?
I made a bet with myself. About where the name came from.
Stiles snorts. A- no. But, close, I guess. His breathing is slowing, though hes sti
ll pressed up against the kitchen bench. Sam Gamgee.
Lord of the Rings.
Right. Stiles folds his arms across his chest. He takes a few deep breaths and doe
snt run when Derek lowers his hands. Which we could totally watch together if you
had a TV.
Back to where they started. Derek sighs. Its progress of a sort, he thinks wryly.
Stiles is watching him closely, Derek can tell hes thinking hard. Hes about to say
something, mouth half-open, when Dereks phone rings in his pocket. He sighs, but
he has to answer. Its never easy to get an entire weekend off and if someones cal
led in sick he might have to cover. Yeah, he gruffs out.
Its the courier, with the rest of Stiles money. Derek makes arrangements to meet h
im at a coffee shop that is, co-incidentally, only a few blocks from the bowling
alley where Stiles jeep is parked. He pockets his phone and looks over at Stiles
. Do you want to come with me?
Stiles heartbeat has sped up again, but Derek thinks its the reminder of the mone
y more than Derek himself. Uh. Yeah, he says, and shrugs. I guess.
Derek just nods. Ill go put on some pants.
Shirt might be a good idea too, Stiles calls after him. If you dont want to be respo
nsible for innocent young ladies walking into traffic when you cross the street.
Derek doesnt smile until hes in the other room and out of sight.


Notes:
http://www.cafepress.com/+keep_calm_and_think_of_shirtless_jacob_large_mug,71064
1283
Chapter 6: Saturday Sun
Chapter Text


They walk down the street side by side in silence. It doesnt take long for Stiles
to start monologuing. So, its kinda nice to be outside. I sort of thought, maybe,
uh.
You were picturing a dungeon? Chains? Time-locks on the doors? I never said I was
going to lock you in a tower, Stiles.
Did you just make me Rapunzel in that scenario? No way am I Rapunzel.
Derek suppresses a Red Riding Hood reference with difficulty and instead shoots
a glance at Stiles near-shorn hair and gets an elbow in the ribs for his trouble.
Stiles smirks sidelong at Derek. Well, you were pretty insistent with the whole,
days too, thing. I definitely thought it was going to be a shut-in kind of situa
tion. How the hell was I supposed to know you werent some kind of freak?
You feel confident all of a sudden that Im not a freak? Derek has no idea why hes pu
shing this. He just knows that, oddly enough, he likes hearing Stiles talk. Laur
a would be amazed. All in a rush, hes desperate to talk to her, to tell her hes fo
und someone that can make him laugh and want to touch at the same time.
Well theres the inherent freakiness of you finding me, of all people, attractive,
but hey, everyone has their kinks. Luckily for me, mine is superhotness so thats
working out well for both of us so far-
Why do you find it odd Id find you attractive? Derek interrupts. Because this reall
y, really bothers him. And he gets the feeling it isnt the working-as-a-hooker th
ing thats caused it.
Stiles raises his brows. Uh.
For a moment he thinks Stiles is simply going to wave a hand in the general vici
nity of his body and consider that explanation enough. Derek just looks at him,
silently insistent.
I dont know, dude, he sighs. Shrugs. Just, yknow, Im kind of this total nobody at- he s
tops suddenly and bites his lip.
- school, Derek supplies with a sigh.
Yeah. He licks his lips guiltily and Derek loses a few seconds watching it. He is
going to hell.
He gathers his few remaining brain cells and gets back to the conversation. High
school is not the entire world.
I know that. My D- I know that, he says, heart rate escalating suddenly.
Dad, Derek thinks and files that away.
I know I wont always be in high school, and things will change. But. Its kind of ha
rd to feel that way when youre there, yknow?
Derek wouldnt know. He barely remembers high school, everything overshadowed by t
he fire and the aftermath. Though he does remember wanting badly enough to fit i
n that hed met up with Kate Argent after school one day for a furtive make-out se
ssion that had left him feeling sick and very, very convinced that whatever he w
as looking for, it wasnt anything Kate had.
Okay. He maybe does remember that desperation to belong.
And everyone else is pairing up, and- Im just. Not.
You are now, Derek thinks immediately and then looks away because- no. Stiles ha
snt agreed to that. Has no idea of where Dereks werewolf instincts are taking him
, of the leaps of imagination hes been taking without Stiles knowledge or consent.
And then he stumbles because suddenly, horrifyingly, he realizes that what Stile
s is talking about implies no experience whatsoever. He can feel his breath comi
ng faster at the idea that maybe Stiles only sexual experiences have been on the
fucking streets. Jesus.
Derek? You okay, dude?
Stiles steadies him with a hand on his arm and Derek just stares. No, please no,
he is thinking and then Stiles says, This is the place, right?
Derek glances around at the sign and nods. Licks his lips. Wait here, he says and
ducks inside. He needs a minute to pull himself together and he sure as shit doe
snt want the courier getting a glance at the teenager who has accompanied Derek t
o his mysterious pickup.
The dude is already waiting at a table, bored, and Derek takes the locked bag fr
om the guy and signs the electronic pad that is shoved in his direction. Thanks, h
e manages but the guy is already gone, on to his next delivery. Derek stays ther
e a minute, breathing deep, head in his hands.
Theres nothing he can do about whats happened to Stiles in the past. He cant fix an
y of the wrongs in his own history, let alone someone elses. Its been the first bi
tter lesson of his life, learned young. But he can treat the kid right in the he
re and now. Starting with not making him feel like shit for taking the money he
obviously needs.
Derek buys two chocolate brownies and a large triple-shot espresso which he shov
es in Stiles direction without a word when he gets back onto the street.
Uh. Thanks, Stiles manages, looking a little startled.
Derek holds up the bakery bag with its chocolatey scent and while Stiles is focu
sed on it, nudges the bag of cash into his other hand. Ill warm up a brownie for y
ou back at the apartment.
And then he walks off without a backward glance.
He pauses once hes rounded the corner and leans against the wall of an empty rest
aurant. Im voluntarily spending time with someone who cant stop talking, he texts
to Laura. He slides the phone into his back pocket and resumes walking. Hes made
it two more blocks when his phone beeps.
Holy shit, little bro. Actual TIME
He Googles the acronym and snorts. Do not call me, he sends back swiftly. Youll k
ill the mood. And just as well he did, considering the next message.
OMFG, just realized the date! U sneaky shit
Do not call me.
Srsly D, this is really good. Ur going to have 2talk 2me about this 1day, urlize
?
He rolls his eyes at the text speak. Its just a weekend, he sends back. He doesnt
know the whole story.
So TELL HIM.
Too soon.
Theres a longer break, then, long enough that he makes it all the way to the apar
tment, up the stairs and inside.
You deserve 2b happy.

***

Derek picks up Stiles heartbeat down on the street and crosses to unlock the fron
t door. He goes back to the kitchen, hits the power button on the microwave and
returns to the sink.
Stiles lets himself in and locks the door behind him, already mid-word and proba
bly gesturing wildly too. Honestly. Are you- challenged or something? You just sh
ove six grand in cash into my hand and walk off? How did you know I wasnt gonna j
ust, take off with it? Just because you know my nickname doesnt mean youd be able
to f-
I trust your word, Derek says, and pushes the plate holding the brownie toward Sti
les. Stiles who now has a laptop bag slung across his chest. Derek raises his br
ows and Stiles flushes as he pulls it off and sets it gently on the table, pract
ically falls into the chair. No TV, man, he repeats. Three days. Not happening, no
matter how much of a sex bomb The Stiles apparently is.
Derek turns away and grins to himself as he dries the breakfast dishes. Dont call
yourself The Stiles, he says. You get exponentially less hot every time you refer
to yourself in the third person. Trust Derek on this.
That gets him a genuine laugh, and Derek hugs it to himself. Hes not a funny guy,
but he could get used to that sound. Then Stiles says around a mouthful of brow
nie. Plus? Derek glances over his shoulder when he pauses and the kid grins, wide
and gross. Porn.
Derek snorts out a laugh he cant even begin to contain.
***

The laptop is perched on the packing-crate-table (now situated in front of the c
ouch) and the Fellowship are not long out of Rivendell when Stiles says suddenly
, Youre kinda weird, yknow?
Am I.
Yes. Stiles says it very confidently. Do you do this with all the hookers you pick
up? Blow them to heaven and back? Snuggle on the couch after? Tell em you think t
heyre hot?
Derek goes still. Hes not gonna lie but hes not sure how this will change things,
if he tells the truth, and he doesnt want to lose what little time he has with St
iles. No, he says in the end.
No, youre not normally this nice? Or no theyre not all as hot as me? hes shaking his
head, grinning at that last one. Derek takes a deep breath.
No Ive never picked up a hooker before.
Theres silence. Im sorry, what did you say?
This is the first time Ive ever paid for it, Derek replies.
I- have no idea why Im surprised by that, Stiles says slowly. He shifts sideways on
the couch and stares at Dereks profile. It never made any sense to me that youd ne
ed a hooker for this. Im pretty sure you could walk into any bar in America, buy
someone a drink and get what youre getting from me.
No, Derek says, keeping his eyes on the screen, I couldnt. Theres a fluttering of pani
c in his chest, and he says deliberately, And I dont want to explain why. Not righ
t now.
O-kay, Stiles says.
Derek almost smiles at that. Or maybe I do. Maybe its that simple. I picked you up
because I didnt want to talk about why I was picking you up.
Stiles nods. His eyes are still watchful, but hes relaxed slightly in the past tw
enty seconds. Maybe because hes been expecting Derek to be more of an asshole fro
m the start, and now hes been shut down, conversation-wise, this feels more famil
iar.
Well this explains a lot, at least, he says, shifting so that hes straddling Derek
on the couch. Why youre being so sweet to me, for a start. I kept thinking maybe I
was a stand-in for a boyfriend you just broke up with, or something. But instea
d you honestly dont have the first clue what youre doing, so youve been treating me
like any other date.
Ive been treating you exactly the way I want to, Derek replies. Hes hard already, bu
t hes not about to accept that Stiles should automatically be treated like dirt j
ust because hes doing this professionally.
Okay, he says softly, and kisses Derek. Okay then. He stares intently into Dereks eye
s and then quirks a brow, tentative and questioning. You picked me up at a club. H
e hesitates. Derek stares back calmly, not at all opposed to the fantasy. Overcom
e by all of this, Stiles waves a hand down the length of his own body, you asked t
o buy me a drink and I said, I guess one drink cant hurt.
You thought I was a surly asshole, Derek says. He can picture it so very clearly,
and Stiles smirks but doesnt disagree.
We drank shots, and you loosened up enough that we danced. I was overcome by your
smooth moves on the dance floor, enough to look past the GQ cover model look an
d generally sour disposition, Stiles goes on, and Derek smiles faintly. Even in t
heir mutual fantasy, hes a sharp-tongued little smartass. You asked me to come hom
e with you, his eyes flick back up to Dereks for a second and he says softly, I dont
normally do that.
And I havent done that sort of thing in years, Derek replied, just as soft. A truth
for a truth. He reaches up to cup Stiles face in his hand. But I wanted you. I di
dnt even see anyone else.
Hm. Stiles eyes fall to half-mast and he presses into Dereks hand, just a little. I
said yes, even though I didnt know you, could hardly believe I was taking the ris
k, he murmurs, and you brought me here, to your apartment. He stares down at his ow
n hands for a moment, eyes hidden as he breathes unevenly. Then he blinks, drags
Dereks shirt up over his head and looks his fill, eyes darkening as he runs his
fingertips over Dereks pecs, and up to his throat.
And here we are, Derek murmurs.
Damn, Stiles near-whispers. Look at you. You are just- his mouth twitches. A near occ
asion of sin, he mutters.
What?
I dont know, I heard it somewhere, he shrugs and strokes his hands down Dereks arms,
but it sums you up just fine. I swear I could be sitting at my grandmas dinner ta
ble with a dozen nuns disapproving of me and I would still be hard pressed not t
o have carnal thoughts about you.
Derek tries to unravel that image. Um. Thank you?
He laughs. No, thank you. And I promise, Im gonna be the best fake-boyfriend you e
ver had, baby. He leans in close, biting his lip, and Derek tries to roll his eye
s but ends up just holding tight and kissing back. Stiles pulls back, breathes i
n his ear, Im gonna treat you so good youre never gonna want to let me go.
And a small, needy sound escapes Derek that hes completely helpless to stop. He c
ant joke about that. Hes going to let Stiles go, of course he is. Hes eighteen, hes
never even had a boyfriend, hes unaware of werewolves and their messy world of pa
cks and alliances.
Stiles has his whole life ahead of him. But Derek really, really doesnt fucking w
ant to let him go.
He turns his head and presses his face to Stiles throat, breathes him in. Stiles,
startled, goes very still, and Derek feels the hot rush of humiliation wash ove
r his face.
Then those long, elegant fingers come up to cup his head, and Stiles lips brush D
ereks temple. Okay, he says softly, okay. They stay like that for a long time, then h
e hears the quick intake of breath that indicates speech. Stiles hesitates, then
says, Come to bed.
They snuggle, theres really no other word for it for a while, and then, inevitabl
y, things get hot and heavy. Dereks not out of control, but the full moon is toni
ght, and hes certainly at the mercy of his hormones more than usual. Besides, its
all so new, theres still so much to discover about Stiles. Like the sensitivity
of his flat brown nipples.
Dont make me. Oh, hm. When Derek glances up, Stiles is writhing on the sheets and b
iting his lips.
What?
Ill- talk. Ill say things. Stupid things, and hes flushing now. Looking away.
I like it, Derek says nosing up his throat, licking as he goes. He straightens his
arms, puts some distance between them because Stiles seems genuinely worried, i
ts making him smell all wrong.
It. Doesnt mean anything, Stiles says, flicking a glance at him. I just- I cant help
it.
I know, Derek says, low and wicked. Thats why I like it.
Is this are you, youre gonna fuck me now, right? And Stiles doesnt smell scared, but
Derek still pauses and leans back because that question is like ice water down
his spine.
Do you want me to?
What? and Stiles blinks at him like he doesnt understand the fucking question.
Do - you - want - me - to - fuck - you? Do you want to be fucked, Derek asks with
exquisite diction. He can feel his temper slipping.


I- he shrugs. If you want to, man. Whatever.
Not what I asked you, Derek near-snarls. Do you want to be fucked in the ass? Do yo
u want my cock, in particular, in your ass? Hes making no effort to be kind or rea
ssuring, hes not going to seduce Stiles into this.
Ive already consented, Stiles shoots back tightly. You do remember the conversation
we had on the street, right? His heart is racing again, still, but at least its go
od honest temper this time, not fear.
You consented to spend three days and nights with me, Derek growls, sliding back a
nd away. You didnt consent to being forced to do something you dont even want. And
if you think you did youre a fucking moron.
Whores cant-
Youre not a whore.
I sold you my ass for ten grand, Derek. Ive sold it for a lot fucking less, he says
, voice breaking. What the hell else am I-
Dont-
You dont have to ask me these questions, Stiles half-shouts. Im not saying no to you,
if you tried something I was afraid of, or that hurt me, Id say so.
Would you?
What?
Would you say so or would you just grit your teeth until it was over because you
need the money?
Stiles just stares at him, eyes wide and chest heaving. Hes scared now, not of De
rek but of all these questions and Derek is suddenly ashamed of himself. Hes not
angry at Stiles. Hes fucking furious at the faceless men who handled him careless
ly, and because of it hes acting like an absolute prick.
Shit, he says softly, and eases back, right out of Stiles space. He rolls onto his
back and stares up at the ceiling while he listens to the teenagers heartbeat eve
n out. Theres silence for a long time, and Stiles is the one to break it.
You said Im not a whore.
Yes.
So. Then. His voice is a low murmur with a fine thread of pain through it. How do y
ou explain us being here like this. What exactly are you telling yourself about
the huge wad of cash you put in my hands that first night, the bag full of money
you gave me today?
Im not pretending anything, if thats what you mean, Derek says. I havent forgotten how
we got here. He hesitates, takes several deep breaths so that when he says it hi
s voice comes out perfectly even, perfectly calm. Look. You are engaging in acts
of prostitution. That is how I think of it.
He darts a look at Stiles who is frowning but its thoughtful, not upset or angry.
Derek swallows, wonders if he can begin to explain this. Words have never been
easy for him, especially since he lost his mothers gentle guidance. But - whore. T
hats- to me, a whole other word with a lot more meaning to it. A whore is- hard.
Cheap. Doesnt want to get out of that life. Ive seen that, Ive seen a lot of it. Pe
ople who cant kick the habit and get stuck, people without hope, people who hate
themselves. He looks at Stiles and says, Youre not a whore. I dont like hearing you
call yourself that. I will never think of you that way. Youre better than that.
Stiles turns his face away. Im better than that, he says. Am I.
Yes.
Because you say so?
Because you just are. I know youre in trouble, but I know youre trying to find a wa
y out.
He swallows, loud enough for Derek to hear.
You have no idea of the things Ive done, that Ive let guys do to me-
I can imagine, very easily, okay. Stiles. He takes a shuddering breath.
When I was fifteen, Derek begins and his voice is rusty already. Something happened
, something- bad. He stops for a little while, making sure he can do this without
breaking down. I lost almost my entire family in one night.
Shit, Stiles breathes. He doesnt say anything else but his entire body has tensed.
His hand creeps out to grip Dereks.
It changed me. He grimaces at the understatement. Obviously.
Stiles just waits.
I dont remember much of the next few months. They caught- the person who did it. A
ll the questions were answered as far as that goes. I dont know, its all kind of f
oggy. Then one day, he shifts his shoulders restlessly, it was like I woke up. But
- to a nightmare. Where they were all gone.
Fingers tighten around his hand.
I went kind of- off the rails, I guess. Ran away. To his everlasting shame, hed lef
t Laura behind to deal with Peter and his wild grief, the crazy guilt, on her ow
n. It was why hed never said a word when she got the chance to go to NYU, hadnt ob
jected to the 12-month contract in London. Hed abandoned her first.
He brings himself back to the here and now with effort.
I was an idiot teenager, and I was alone. Derek turns his head. You can imagine how
well that went.
Stiles winces. Did you.
By sheer dumb luck, no, I never turned tricks. Derek squeezes his hand. Hed at leas
t always been able to find food as the wolf. It was the only thing I didnt do, tho
ugh, and I came damn close a few times. But I did plenty of things Im not proud o
f, I stole and I lived in filth and I took a thousand stupid fucking risks-
Risks Stiles cant imagine.
Full moons spent in flop houses, or running wild through the woods skating past
hunters by the skin of his teeth. Being cold, being hungry, being so damn angry
all the fucking time. Derek sighs.
I made a bunch of bad choices, Stiles. It left its mark on me, I cant pretend it d
idnt. But it didnt make me into someone else, didnt make me a bad person. The thing
s I did, I learned from. They made me stronger in a lot of ways, less afraid of
whats inside me, for one thing.
He rolls onto his side toward Stiles, looks him right in the eye. What youre doing
now, its hard and ugly and it makes you feel like shit, I know that. But youre a
survivor, and one day youll look back and think, I got through that. It didnt brea
k me.
Stiles is crying silently as he stares at Derek. This- it would kill my Dad if he
ever found out, he croaks out.
I think any parent whos worth the name would be more worried about your well being
than- Derek says calmly.
No, you dont get it. Hes hes- Stiles is close to choking on the words he cant get out.
Ssh, Derek soothes. You dont have to say anything. He draws Stiles into his arms and
slots their bodies together. His eyes close involuntarily at the intimacy of it,
the trust, the scent of Stiles tears and regret.
Stiles is most of the way asleep when he says muzzily, Derek. He breathes in once,
then his eyes fly open. Derek Hale.
Derek jerks against him and their eyes meet. What?
Derek Hale, Stiles says again, pale, and they stare at one another. Stiles bites h
is lip and Derek waits for it, expressions of sympathy or questions about the fi
re, about whether hes okay. But Stiles doesnt say anything at all. He reaches for
Dereks hand again, twines their fingers together and stays exactly where he is, e
yes sad and watchful and knowing.
He falls asleep like that, shortly after, and even as Derek slides into sleep he
is wondering who Stiles is, that he would know Dereks story and remember that na
me.


Chapter 7: A Month of Saturdays
Notes:
Thank you so much for all the comments and the kudos. It's lovely getting that s
ort of feedback while the story is still evolving.
Chapter Text

Derek stops in the doorway and just looks. He woke alone but for that scent and
the call of the moon. His fever is one long blur of want and there is Stiles, lo
oking every inch the teenager he actually is. Nothing like the kid who cried in
Dereks arms or held his hand just a few hours ago.
Hes sitting on the kitchen counter, bathed in late afternoon sunlight, wearing no
thing but soft pyjama bottoms and eating cold noodles out of the carton. He look
s up and sees Derek, gives him the goofiest grin in all of creation.
Well well, he says, all mischief. The senior citizen awakens.
Dereks eyes narrow. You belong to me, and you dont even know it yet, he thinks. He
doesnt move from where hes leaning against the door frame, aware of Stiles hungry
gaze moving over his own half-naked body. You done eating? he asks, a new picture
forming in his head.
Stiles raises a brow. I could be.
Put down the food.
Curious, he starts to speak and then Derek gives him a flat look.
O-kay. Stiles puts the carton in the sink, eyes on Derek and straightens, swallowi
ng.
He lets the silence sit for a good long while, just watching. Teasing himself. Yo
u hard for me, Stiles?
A short breath shudders out of him but he doesnt answer.
Derek raises an eyebrow and waits.
Y-yes.
Good boy, he says calmly. Now. Spread your legs.
Stiles flushes. Derek can hear his heart racing from across the room. He swallow
s once, then slides his legs apart.
Hands flat on the counter.
Hes breathing heavier now, but he complies.
Perfect. And Derek starts toward him, knows all the implicit threat of a born pred
ator is obvious in the way he stalks across the kitchen floor. Stiles will recog
nize it on an instinctive level, even without knowing about the wolf. Its a stran
ge trick of fate that Derek is so strongly attracted to someone whose physical p
resence screams prey. Maybe its the twin urges to bite and to protect that have h
is control so completely shredded.
Look at you, he says, low and rough. All that pale skin of yours, its an engraved in
vitation to mark you up, show everyone where Ive been and what Ive done with you.
Stiles breathing hitches.
And now youre wondering just what Im planning. Derek comes to a stop between Stiles t
highs, nudges them with his legs until theyre as wide as theyll go, and places his
hands on Stiles hips.
Do you know what Im going to do?
N-no.
Do you want to know?
Stiles swallows instead of answering that one, eyes blown with arousal.
Im going to make you plead for mercy, Derek says softly, and yanks Stiles forward u
ntil hes balanced at the edge of the bench. Hands flat on the counter, Derek says w
hen Stiles starts to lift them. Keep your hands there or Ill stop.
S-s-stop what? But Stiles places his hands flat on the countertop and doesnt move t
hem again. He stares into Dereks eyes as if hypnotised.
This. Derek tugs the waist of Stiles pyjama pants down and wraps his hand around th
e hot length of his cock. Stiles sucks in a harsh breath and his eyes widen as h
e feels the slickness spread over Dereks palm. You- you got ready, he mumbles. Been
fantasizing?
Derek doesnt answer, just bends to put his mouth on Stiless chest, his shoulder, t
rails up his throat to his mouth. When he gets there he flattens a hand across t
he small of Stiles back, pinning him in place, and sinks them both into an open-m
outhed kiss, while his hand jacks the kid, slow and relentless. Thought you knew
, he murmurs, Im pretty much thinking about touching you every second Im awake.
Oh God, Stiles says faintly, and his head falls back in surrender.
Ten minutes later he Stiles is moaning steadily, and Derek is placing shivering
kisses on the thin skin behind his ear, nibbling and sucking in turns.
Derek. The muscles in the kids arms are twitching with how badly he wants to move t
hem.
He doesnt move them.
Mmhmm, Derek hums into the shell of a perfect ear, prompts a whole-body shiver.
God damn it. Just do it already.
Do what, Derek breathes into the skin of Stiles throat.
Do it.
I cant help you unless you tell me, Derek murmurs, and he honest to God doesnt know
anymore if hes teasing Stiles or if Derek himself actually needs to hear it. He d
rags his teeth gently down the side of Stiles neck.
F-fuck, he chokes.
Dereks hand doesnt falter.
Fuck me, he finally spits out the words. Come on, Derek, just, just fuck me.
You want that? he nips at a collarbone. You want me inside you?
Yes, yeah, he says, words starting to stream out in that way Derek recognizes as p
urest Stiles. Yeah I want you to fuck me, put that big cock in me and Ill take it
all, so full of you- and then he catches himself, bites down on his bottom lip an
d breathes in hard.
Of course, Derek murmurs, achingly polite, and yanks Stiles pajama bottoms away wit
h a swipe of one hand. He hoists the teenager up without effort, bare legs curvi
ng around Dereks hips and bites down on the kids throat as he walks them across th
e kitchen and into the bedroom.
Stiles gasps, breath hot in Dereks hair and his arms wind around Dereks shoulders,
fingers digging in as theyre allowed to touch for the first time. When Derek low
ers him to the rumpled bed, his eyes are dark and wide, face slack with want and
he writhes, more than a little lost. Derek, he pants, God, please, Derek.
Its all right, he soothes with his voice and his hands. I have you. And he thinks of
how Stiles had flushed all over when Derek had controlled his hands, out there i
n the kitchen. He reaches out, grasps Stiles wrists and raises them up, up until
he is stretched at full length, and Derek winds his hands around the flimsy fram
e of the bedhead. I could tie you up, he says, conversational, and Stiles swallows
. But I know I dont have to. Because youre going to be good for me, and hold, he say
s, and Stiles moans in the back of his throat.
Yeah, he says, I- yeah.
He preps Stiles slowly, thoroughly, and its not just a tease, its Dereks white-hot
determination to make this good, to show Stiles that it can be good, that he has
nothing to fear from the wolf. By the time hes done the kid is rambling in short
bursts, pleas and curses and moans. Derek could come just from watching the way
the lean body beneath him is writhing ceaselessly, and the hands Derek put in p
lace never move. The only thing holding him back is the iron will to do this rig
ht.
Put it in me, Stiles is saying, Damn you, Im ready, Derek, please, I want-
Derek fumbles the condom on, biting hard at his lip, deliberately drawing blood
to distract himself. It heals by the time hes done and he leans up for an open-mo
uthed kiss, mutters, Yeah, into Stiles mouth and slides just the head inside.
Stiles is still, suddenly and Derek freezes. He looks down after a moment, afrai
d, so afraid that he has reminded Stiles of bad times, or hurt him. But beneath
him Stiles face is a study in ecstasy, slack and open and trusting and Derek clo
ses his eyes against the weight of it. Stiles is trusting him with so much, he d
oesnt even know-
Oh, Stiles is saying, oh yeah. Thats. More. Yeah. And he lifts his hips, presses just
a little so Derek slides further inside and they both groan. Derek, he says, and
pins him with that dark, lusty gaze. Fill me up. Do it.
Oh God, Derek says, and surges forward helplessly.
Its all a blaze of heat and want after that, the two of them, fitting together pe
rfectly. Stiles lifts to meet him and Derek hooks an arm under his knee to open
him up. Their mutual cries fill the room every time Derek bottoms out and slides
over Stiles prostate. It doesnt take long at all for Stiles to be biting off word
s and gasping, coiled tight, and Derek lets go of his leg and slides his hand do
wn to palm Stiles cock instead.
He cries out like hes electrified by the fast, ruthless strokes and his hands fin
ally let go of the bedframe and fly to grab hold of Derek anywhere he can, finge
rs biting hard. A half-second later he lets go and Derek looks up to see him rea
ch for the frame again.
Its a thing of fucking beauty as his eyes take the journey up, up and up. First,
Stiles pale, lean torso, the long, vulnerable line of his extended throat, his ja
w working through a moan, long fingers curling around the metal tubes to grip ti
ght and ground himself. Derek locks the image away, a frozen moment he knows hell
remember for the rest of his life. Stiles.
Shit, shit, oh God, Derek, God God oh Godddd, he moans and comes, body clenching h
ard around Derek who grunts, orgasm punching out of him with no warning and he f
reezes like that, hips grinding hard against Stiles who cries out again, voice r
aw and shocked.
Derek just, he fucking collapses, after, which is shitty manners and he forces s
ome kind of strength back into his limbs, rolls them sideways and manages to cat
ch the condom as he slips out of Stiles who makes a numb kind of protesting nois
e. Its all about as far from smooth as you can get and he rolls his eyes at himse
lf as he dumps the condom, makes sure to get right back to Stiles and wrap him u
p, gentling him through the aftershocks and nuzzling at his throat.
Oh, Stiles is mumbling. Oh man that. Oh. Hm.
Derek hmms into his neck, slightly sweaty now and utterly delicious.
They cuddle now, its become a routine neither of them wants to question, they jus
t do it, and since afterglow seems to be one of the few times Stiles is quiet De
rek takes the chance to soak it all up. He strokes gently over Stiles body, notes
the smudged marks on his hips where Dereks fingers had bitten in and the hickeys
on his throat, his collarbone.
He likes.
Its a long time later that Stiles big brain seems to kick in all at once.
You shaved, he says, suddenly accusing. He lifts his head to stare down at Dereks a
dmittedly smooth face.
Derek raises his eyebrows.
Dont try that bullshit I have no idea what you mean look on me. You were freshly s
haven, in the kitchen just now. Oh my god you totally planned that.
He grins lazily and tugs Stiles back down onto the bed. Evening is drawing in, a
nd soon the moon will rise.


Chapter 8: Someday I'll Be Saturday Night
Chapter Text


Stiles stomach groans not long after that and Derek rolls to his feet, sighing. Fi
ne, he says, as if ending a long argument. Ill make dinner.
Youll make a call, you mean, Stiles says on a lazy stretch. Derek eyes him with int
erest and he catches the look. The kids developing some useful survival skills fo
r life with a wolf, all unknowing. Stiles points a long finger at Derek. No, he sa
ys sternly. Eat first.
Derek rolls his eyes, but smiles as he goes. Wanders into the kitchen and stares
at the takeaway menus hes amassed in his other visits here. Pizza okay?
Sure. Stiles calls back from where he is currently stumbling into the shower.
Derek stares in dissatisfaction at the menu. Pizza, yes. But its not enough. He c
alls for Indian too.

***

Scott, fuck I am in so much trouble here. Stiles is whispering.
Derek freezes. He hadnt intended to eavesdrop. Hed only opened the bathroom door t
o grab another pair of boxers while he waited for the water to get hot. But Stil
es is clearly hiding out in the kitchen, half-whispering into his phone so Derek
wont hear.
It hits like a body blow that Derek could ever be something to be feared for thi
s kid, for his mate.
Stiles? Are you okay? The other voice comes over the line tinny, but perfectly cle
ar.
No, are you listening to me? Fuck, no, I am not okay, okay?
Did that guy hurt you? Derek likes the fierce protectiveness in this Scotts voice,
even as his jealous nature rears its head.
What? No, he didnt hurt me. Hes not an asshole. Just the opposite and I am so, so s
crewed.
What are you talking about?
Derek swallows helplessly. The distress in Stiles voice is- for a minute he think
s hes going to be sick and he half-falls against the door frame, thinking frantic
ally over what theyd just done, the way hed treated Stiles in the kitchen, in bed.
It had seemed- natural. A rhythm theyd fallen into together, and so easily but c
learly it hadnt been like that for Stiles oh fuck-
Hes like, perfect. Hes fucking perfect and this has got to be some kind of nightmar
e. Its the zombie apocalypse. Definitely. Stock up on canned food now because som
ething like this can only be happening to me if the end of the world is quite li
terally approaching-
Stiles. Calm down. What do you mean youre screwed. If this guys so nice then just-
Hes not just nice, Scott, okay? Derek can picture the gestures that go with the wor
ds so easily. Hes like, smart. Affectionate. Kind. Listened to me ramble and then
bought me a brownie. Possibly a dog person. Wicked good in bed. Derek blinks.
Yeah, I dont... want to know that last bit."
And you saw the picture.
Yeah. He looked- okay.
Stiles snorts. Yeah, right, in that completely unnecessary Greek God kind of way.
Look, whatever-
So what youre calling to tell me in a panic is that the hot weekend you wanted is
also turning out to be awesome in every other way?
No, moron. Listen to me, Stiles sighs. Try to picture this- you think youre going on
a date with someone even vaguely in your league. Allison.
Yeah. Scott suddenly sounds like a brainless pup, which Stiles was apparently expe
cting.
Scott. Focus. And instead, when you open the door, its Scarlett-fucking-Johanssen,
okay, and not only is she everything you ever dreamed, she also seems to be, pe
rhaps due to an acquired brain injury, very very into you. Imagine that.
Yeah. Um, sounds awful.
Argh!
Thats the first time Dereks ever heard someone make that noise in real life. Theres
a soft thump which is possibly Stiles head hitting the kitchen wall.
Scott. Try to think. Try to think about what happens to this imaginary Scott when
ScarJo turns around on Monday morning and says, bye, thanks for the blow jobs,
never call me again. Now what for Scott? Now when he sees Allison at school, whe
n he sees the head cheerleader, when he sees Lydia freaking Martin, he thinks, e
h, Ive had better. In fact, for the rest of his fucking life no-one can measure u
p. Stiles is gasping by the time he finishes.
And Derek starts to breathe again.
Okay, Scott says slowly. I get what youre saying. But Stiles, man, if hes so into you
, how do you know hes gonna blow you off on Monday? Maybe hell give you his number
instead.
Thats. No. Stiles says, voice suddenly thick and heavy. Thats- not gonna happen, Scot
t.
Why not? You said he seems into you-
Scott, he says again, harsh and hurt. Dont. This isnt a Julia Roberts movie.
What?
Derek steps back into the bathroom, heart aching, head spinning. And yet. theres
hope there, where there wasnt before. That Stiles could possibly be interested in
someone as socially awkward as Derek.
Nothing, man, Stiles is saying dully as he closes the bathroom door. Just. Stuff li
ke that doesnt happen to guys like me.

***

When the food arrives, hes still in the shower and Stiles dumps the pizzas boxes
on the bed. Derek raises a brow from the doorway where hes towelling water out of
his hair. He eyes Stiles warily, but theres no sign of the panicked phone call D
erek isnt supposed to know about. He has no choice but to ignore it, for now.
Its probably time to change the sheets anyway, Stiles offers. Derek just nods and t
osses his towel over the rail. He pulls on boxers and climbs across the bed, sna
gging a slice and wondering idly how much longer the curry will take. His normal
appetite gets a lot larger during this kind of event. Right on cue theres a knoc
k, and he scrambles out of bed to pay the bemused delivery girl, who seems very
appreciative of his bare chest if the boom-chick-a she mutters to herself in the
hallway is anything to go by. He snags two forks and heads back to the bedroom,
still not sure what to do or say next.
Stiles eyes his second delivery with amusement and helps himself to naan. Dereks
just eating, trying not to be too gross about it, watching Stiles absently, the
way he cant really help anymore, when he realizes the kid has stopped and is star
ing right back.
You are- Stiles says and stops.
What.
Its like did you take a fucking class or something. Then he snorts. A fucking class.
What are you talking about.
Youre just- good in bed, he says, flushing.
Derek blinks at him.
Stiles moves forwards, then sideways on the bed. He finally settles with his bac
k against the wall, long legs extended down the bed. Derek shifts until he can r
est a foot on Stiles calf and relaxes again.
Stiles looks away, and starts to talk lightly in a way Derek is already beginnin
g to recognize as a defensive tactic. I just feel that youre maybe being a little
unfair. Ruining me for life like this. I mean, what are the odds Ill ever again g
et the chance to sleep with someone who fucks like you do, let alone looks like
an underwear model.
You think its me? Derek snorts and instantly regrets it, sees the dull flush rise u
p Stiless face as if Derek was mocking him. He scrabbles to repair the damage, th
inking of that phone call again. Stiles. Its not me. Its you.
What?
Its not easy to say this stuff, but Stiles deserves to hear it. Ive never been like
this before.
Like what? Warily.
Insatiable, Derek wants to say. Talkative. Relaxed. Instead he just gestures at
the relaxed sprawl of the two of them, the much-abused bed.
Stiles blinks at him, fork stuck in mid-air with korma sauce dripping back into
the dish.
Usually Im, Derek shrugs and gestures. Closed off.
No, really? Stiles mutters.
I just-
You get in there and do what you have to do, then get out? Stiles says drily.
He frowns. No. Not that bad. Just.
Not like this, he says softly, tilting his chin at the rice, the cuddling, the clo
seness. Rubs his calf against Dereks toes. And Derek nods, willing him to believe
it, to understand some shadow of what it means.
So. Why now then?
Why now?
Something happen?
Nothing happened, Derek replies. Just I think its you. Thats what I meant. Im differen
t around you.
Stiles stares back at him, eyes wide. Thats. Yeah. Ruined for life, he says, very v
ery softly and they eat the rest of the food in silence.

***

Theyre collapsed beside one another in afterglow again, when the question just sl
ips out.
Stiles was it. Derek hesitates but he can't stop now. Your first time, it wasnt-
For money? His mouth twists but he doesnt pull away like Derek had feared he might.
No.
Theres silence for a moment, Derek doesnt want to push. Then Stiles sighs and repe
ats, No. Theres this guy at school, hes out, and I always used to joke with him, ykn
ow, am I attractive to gay guys? And then. When I decided I was going to do this
, I just. I didnt want-
Derek strokes his arm. Theres a silence he has no desire to break. Stiles rolls o
nto his side, facing away from Derek, but he wriggles backwards enough that theyr
e still touching. Derek will take what he can get.
If I had any brains I would have done it for money, Stiles says, suddenly bitter. Y
ou can sell pretty much anything online. Do you have any idea what some people w
ould pay to fuck a virgin?
No. He says softly. Stiles, no.
Maybe I wouldnt have had to-
Youve punished yourself enough, Stiles. And Im glad your first time wasnt like that.
Was with someone your own age.
Oh, I didnt sleep with Danny. I mean, he was pretty clear about not doing that. I
needed a story, for why it was suddenly urgent that I lose my ass-fucking virgin
ity. So I told him there was this older guy I was interested in but I thought I
needed some experience before I took a run at this mythical intimidating man. So
he, yknow, he knows people, his boyfriend works at a local club and so he took m
e along one night and, well. He shrugs one shoulder. This guy picked me up, Danny
kind of gave me the ok that yeah, he wasnt a douchebag and so I went home with hi
m.
And it was... okay? Derek asks carefully.
It was fine. Good, even. I mean he was attractive and careful and he was uh, enth
usiastic. But. Yknow. It wasnt... what I would have chosen in other circumstances.
Derek just nods. Hes almost going to leave it, and then thinks, fuck it. He cant
just ignore it. Hell lie awake every night for the rest of his life wondering if
he does. The ten thousand, he begins, far too abruptly. Is it. Will it. Be enough?
Stiles has gone very still. Enough for what? he asks, and Derek cant decide if he w
ishes he could see Stiles face or if hes glad they can both hide.
To help, he says, instead of to stop.
Theres a long silence. Yeah, Stiles finally says. Yeah, itll. I can probably- his hand
s tighten on Dereks. No, he finally says, voice low and hard, convincing himself as
he goes, Derek thinks, definitely. I can. I can stop. Ill make it work. Itll work.
Derek just breathes. Hes so scared right now of fucking this up he cant find a sin
gle word to say.
Youre right. I dont want to do this, I hate it, Im trying to get out, Stiles says and
his voice is shaking now. I hate the, I hate how it feels I hate what they say a
nd how they smell and most of all I hate what I do and I go home and scrub and s
crub-
Derek just tightens his arms and presses his face into Stiless nape and holds on.
-cant tell anyone, God, please if they ever found out theyd, my Dad, hed-
Sshhh, Derek finds himself saying because Stiles is just sobbing now, raw and nake
d and he lets go just long enough to turn Stiles around and pull him close, face
hidden in Dereks throat as he chokes out more words, ssh, now, Stiles, let it go,
no-one knows, its all right, youre all right, sshh.

Chapter 9: You're My Sunday
Notes:
HUGE to Diva 0789 for emergency beta and dealing with my complete social!fail.
Also, I'm going to start throwing chapter titles in to keep track of the days (s
ong titles/lyrics) so if you have a suggestion that suits the mood of the chapte
r, let me know.
Chapter Text

Its the early hours of the morning when the lust sweeps over Derek again, blindin
g him. Hes already nuzzling his way down Stiles body when the kid shifts, waking,
and glances over his shoulder. Derek? he slurs.
Hmm, he hums, reaches the small of his mates back and bites there, strong enough to
make his presence felt but nowhere near drawing blood.
Man, Stiles sighs in admiration. You are like a machine. Hes lifting an arm, prepared
to roll over when Derek stills him, a hand on his hip. Oh? Yeah? Okay. Like this
, yeah, just, you let me know, he rambles into the pillow aimlessly which makes i
t all the more gratifying when Dereks tongue in his ass has him jack-knifing upri
ght with a Jesus!
Stiles jerks against his mouth helplessly, Dereks grip far too strong for a mere
human to overcome and he can smell the thick arousal of his mate, the shock as m
uch a part of it as anything else. He likes his pleasures unannounced, does Stil
es, spins higher and wilder for not knowing what will happen next and Derek is h
appy to oblige.
He shifts his grip slightly and just goes for it, eats out Stiles ass until hes ha
lf-sobbing, hand twitching toward his neglected cock more than once only to have
Derek slap it away.
His mouth is more gainfully employed than mere speech, but the blood pounding th
rough his body is a shout of mate, mine, more, fuck, need, mate, mine-
Please, Derek, whatever you want, Im, just, oh, use me, Stiles is mumbling, breath
coming in fast hitches and thats it, thats what hed been waiting for, Derek reaches
around and palms his mates cock, and Stiles comes with a hoarse shout after thre
e swift tugs.
Fuck, he slurs out, and falls forward onto his stomach. Oh fuck. He breathes into th
e pillow for a few moments, then turns his head toward Derek, who is surveying h
is ass with some satisfaction. Oh God, he manages, eyes dropping to Dereks cock, ha
rd and throbbing. Youre still-
Dereks finger slides inside Stiles where hes absolutely dripping wet from Dereks mo
uth, and he twitches hard but doesnt pull away. His eyes are locked on Dereks face
, Derek is staring back at him.
Tell me, Stiles says, very soft and sure. Whatever you want, Ill do it. Youve got me.
Dereks eyes narrow. Mine, he says, voice even softer than Stiles, hoarse from disus
e. He slides his finger gently in and out, ignoring his own red, angry erection
and the way Stiles ass contracts around him, still oversensitive from orgasm.
Yeah, babe, Stiles husks out, breathing unsteady. Yeah. He bites his bottom lip.
Blow me, Derek says, and lets his finger slide out as he settles himself against t
he wall.
My pleasure, Stiles says, and his eyes light up as he starts toward Derek on his h
ands and knees, breath still unsteady.
Open me up, Derek adds, and after a moment, Stiles just nods. He leans over to sna
g the lube from the floor by the bed, and gets to work.
The kids mouth is a minor fucking miracle, Derek thinks, staring down at Stiles.
Those soft, pretty lips, red and slick and sliding around Dereks dick and he groa
ns deeply as Stiles finger breaches him. Derek slides his legs further apart and
grunts, Two. Hes always enjoyed the burn.
Your fingers, Stiles, he manages as the kid works him open. Fucking beautiful. I no
ticed that first night, he chokes out. Wanted. Want to suck them. Want them in me.
Dance those hands all over me, he adds and Stiles hums, a low satisfied sound th
at Derek feels through his balls and beyond. He moans again. Another.
He glances down as Stiles adds more lube, sees that the kid is hard again. He li
cks his lips in anticipation, shit, theres not enough hours in the night for all
the things he wants to do to Stiles, wants to suck him again, for hours this tim
e, wants to stroke him to orgasm with just Dereks fingers, wants to fuck his face
and bite his nipples and have him straddle Dereks lap and-
Shit, Derek, Stiles gasps against his thigh, and he realizes a moment later hes bee
n saying all of that in a dazed voice, thick with desire. Dereks never been one f
or talking during sex but he suddenly cant hold back. Fucking, yeah- I want-
You want me?
Yes, Stiles responds helplessly. I want you, I always want you-
How much? He moans then, when Stiles presses in and gently out with three fingers.
How much do you want me?
The fingers never stop. More than anything. More than I knew I could.
Derek slits his eyes open and stares down at his mate. Would you keep me? Lock me
away from everyone else? Make me your slave, Stiles? Just for you, just for you
r pleasure?
Fuck, Stiles says, low and guttural. Yeah. Yeah, Id own you-
Up, Derek commands, utterly focused on his end-game. Move.
Stiles blinks at him, gently slides his fingers out of Dereks ass and allows Dere
k to manhandle him onto his back in the middle of the bed. His eyes are wild, an
d he tracks Dereks movements, uncomprehending as he snags a condom, tears open th
e packet and then rolls it onto Stiles.
Oh fuck, he finally gasps, eyes widening in shock. Derek, fuck.
Derek straddles Stiles, staring down at the teenager. Show me, he says, low and fi
erce. Show me how bad you want me, show me Im yours.
Mine, Stiles slurs out as Derek rises up above him. Fucking mine, never, never leav
e me, he presses against Derek and those slim hips bow up, just enough to slide t
he head inside.
Derek keeps his eyes on Stiles face as he slides slowly, slowly down. Stiles is l
onger than he is, but not as thick, and its perfect, the stretch all the way insi
de, the head ghosting over Dereks prostate when he moves just so.
Youre so tight, Stiles grits out.
He sighs and lets his head fall back, feels his body split open around Stiles. Be
en a long time.
Stiles surprises him then, curls upright just enough to open his warm, wet mouth
over Dereks nipple. His head falls back and he gasps as the gentle suction and t
he slide of Stiles cock send a jolt through his body. Stiles, he moans.
Stiles turns his attention to the other nipple, bites this time and Dereks whole
body shudders, teasing them both with the friction. Fuck, Stiles slurs out against
his chest and his hands close over Dereks hips as he grinds them together. Fuckin
g hell, Derek.
Derek rests his lips on the bristles of Stiles close-cropped hair, and its a momen
t of tenderness that changes into a sudden flash of realization. Hes going about
this all wrong. In his heart he wants this to be Stiles moment. To do that Derek
has to let go, close his eyes and trust.
You want to fuck me, Derek rasps out against Stiles ear.
His hips jerk under Derek making them both gasp and he manages a thick, Yeah.
Then tell me. How do you want me?
Stiles goes very still. He raises his head and looks at Derek, cautious and disb
elieving. You- this is fine.
How do you want me? Derek repeats. He runs a thumb along that sweet bottom lip. How
do you want to fuck me, Stiles?
Stiles eyelids droop heavily, and he takes a few deep breaths. Hands and knees, he
finally says, and his voice is guttural.
Yeah, Derek hisses. So you can just, give it to me. Just, he starts to raise his hip
s, never looking away from Stiles, Just fucking hammer it into me, Stiles, I want
you to, I can take it, you cant hurt me.
Oh shit, Stiles just manages to get the words out and watches dumbly as Derek slid
es off him, both of them groaning at the loss. All right, he says, half to himself
, and turns onto his knees, hunting again for the lube. Derek eyes him, leans ov
er the bed to take a swig of the mouthwash Stiles had gone looking for that morn
ing, teasing about morning breath. He rinses his mouth and spits into an empty w
aterglass then stares for a moment at his own face, flushed and unrecognizable i
n the windows reflection.
They meet in the middle of the bed and kiss until theyre both gasping, then Derek
turns onto hands and knees, loving the flush over Stiles cheekbones, the heavy l
idded look of his eyes. Stiles puts his hand on the small of Dereks back and he s
hivers, drops his head and thinks all at once God, this is it for me. This isnt a
transitory mate, the way Dereks been telling himself, not a close-enough kind of
thing. Stiles. Hes the one.
Hes perilously close to hyperventilating. And in that moment Stiles leans forward
, a warm weight over Dereks back and he traces a delicate path over the triskelio
n between Dereks shoulder blades. Its personal, something hes never shared with any
lover. A strangled sound breaks from Dereks throat and Stiles murmurs, This, so b
eautiful, Ive wanted to touch-
Oh God, Derek manages, no-ones ever, yes, yeah-
Can I- Stiles begins but doesnt wait for an answer, just curves forward and traces
the shape with his tongue, warm breath flowing over wet skin as he moves, whispe
rs praise and affection into the lines.
Overwhelmed is too small a word for what Derek is feeling. He is shaking and pan
ting when Stiles finally lines up and slides inside Derek so sweet and easy, gli
ding straight over the sweet spot. He sucks in a breath and looks down, watches
that elegant hand curl around his weeping erection and Derek cries out in helple
ss shock, and grinds back against Stiles as he comes.
Hes panting hoarsely when he becomes aware of Stiles, voice low and anxious, the
slight shift of weight that means hes thinking of pulling out and Derek throws a
hand back to grip Stiles thigh, keep him in place. Dont, he says, dont stop.
Derek, his voice is strained. I dont- youll be too-
Im already getting hard again, Stiles, he pants. Please. I want this. Want you so ba
d, and he cant even believe hes saying this shit, just openly begging but Stiles coc
k is hard inside him, nudging against that hot spot and sparking lights behind h
is eyes and he wants to know Stiles this way too, wants to take all he has to gi
ve.
I want to feel you for a week, he growls out. Theres a pang that comes with knowing
its never going to be that way with his stupid healing ability no hickeys, no br
uises and no sore ass even when he wants it but he gets over it pretty quickly w
hen Stiles groans deep in the back of his throat, pulls back and shoves hard eno
ugh into Derek for him to grunt in surprise and delight.
Yeah.
Stiles thrusts again.
Yeah, Derek grunts, Yeah, come on, yeah-
Stiles needs no more encouragement, his hips are snapping forward mercilessly, f
ingers biting in hard, and Derek is suddenly the vocal one, no shame and no hold
ing back anymore. Hes oversensitive and overstimulated enough that it hurts but h
e wants this, wants so badly and Stiles keeps going, relentless and then suddenl
y Derek is through to the other side where everything feels incredible.
Stiles, he moans, fuck, Stiles, so good-
Yeah, he gasps back, yeah.
And the world drops away, there is only the slide and the heat and the scent of
Stiles-and-Derek everywhere. Derek throws his head back and stares out the windo
w at the moon, the fierce pull of it dragging his body into the furnace, burning
for all the things he wants most, the things he keeps secret.
Stiles, he moans, naming it, ahh, mate and pack and family all encapsulated in one
word, one movement, one scent, one taste and one sound as his mates fingers dig
deep, clutching hard enough to hurt.
Babe, Stiles grinds out, Im close, God, God, Im-
Stiles, Derek says again, eyes closing, and when that last thrust becomes a grind,
a drawn-out moan of ecstasy he gives in to the wave and shudders through an org
asm so intense its almost brutal.
Stiles is draped over him, panting, but he has enough grace left to pull out gen
tly and dump the condom. By the time he turns back Derek has shifted enough to a
void the mess hes made of the sheet, and they collapse together at the foot of th
e bed, the only place left thats not sticky.
Wow, Stiles says softly. His fingers trace gently over Dereks face and he closes hi
s eyes, just soaking up the gentle touch. You okay?
Mmmm, Derek offers, back to nonverbal. But hes heard the slight thread of worry and
knows Stiles probably has... issues with getting too rough during sex. So he re
aches out a hand and finds Stiles wrist, wraps his hand around it and squeezes. Pe
rfect, he manages to say, and the kid relaxes again, kisses Derek with an air of
calm familiarity he folds close to his heart.
He wants this. Wants it forever.


Chapter 10: Sunday Morning
Chapter Text

Morning is trying to get Stiles. Trying to trick him. Wake up, its whispering, bu
t hes not gonna listen. He makes an indeterminate noise and shifts, looking for h
is old buddy sleeeeep.
Theres movement close by and before he can get properly alarmed some small part o
f his brain slurs Derek, and he relaxes. Hes aware thats more than a little cuckoo
, hes barely known the guy more than a day, but there it is. Hes had precious litt
le good stuff in his life lately, hes damn well taking it where he can.
He takes in a deep breath, totally relaxed, and then theres a new sensation. The
barely-there tickle of the sheet, sliding slowly down his body, baring his naked
skin to the air. Chest, belly, groin, and then finally, legs are revealed.
He hums, not exactly disappointed by this change in his circumstances.
He hears the snick of the lube and almost grins. He fights it off, though Derek
has undoubtedly noticed the small twitch at the corner of his mouth he couldnt qu
ite hold back. Derek is a noticing kind of guy. Which is why he feels sure Derek
will get the message when Stiles lazily shifts his legs, spreading them. Comple
tely without shame.
A soft kiss falls on his hipbone, next to his morning wood. Morning, Derek rumbles
.
God, Stiles fucking loves Dereks morning voice. Mrgh, he says in reply, and then ju
st lets out a long, satisfied sigh when one cool finger slides confidently insid
e. He presses his head back into the mattress, not sure why arching his throat l
ike that feels good, feels sexy. It just does.
And Derek likes it.
Another finger later he is sighing in satisfaction. His eyes are still closed, b
ody still a dead weight on the mattress, and Derek is working him open so gently
, so easily, not trying to drive Stiles crazy the way he totally can. Theyre in s
ilent agreement here, a lazy, gentle slide into sex and Stiles sighs a little, s
uddenly just so damn happy.
Its been a long time since his life felt this simple, or this good. And never has
it been like this when sex was on the horizon. This is oddly like hanging out w
ith Scott, except with a string of orgasms, way less talking and so far, even le
ss Halo marathons.
Derek nudges him onto his side using that big, warm body, and Stiles just lets h
is own weight and those clever hands put him where he needs to go. He likes this
position too, its even more like sleep, and he makes a happy snuffling noise int
o the sheets when he ends up face down, sprawled out.
Derek slides three fingers in this time, with more lube, Stiles notes absently.
Turns out Derek is very strict on prep, always focused on Stiles instead of the
endgame. His chest warms at the thought and he sighs again.
The sheets smell like us, he says absently, and Derek makes a satisfied noise deep
in his chest as he fumbles for the condom.
I know.
He slides inside Stiles, slow and easy and fucking gorgeous. He cant help it, he
lets out a moan at how good, god how good it feels to have Derek so close, under
his skin, wanting Stiles. His eyes flutter open for a second, ready for movemen
t and friction and heat.
He doesnt get it. Derek doesnt move. Stiles just breathes. Closes his eyes again,
accepting. This is good, too.
Every breath they take shifts Derek just slightly inside him. Its not like sex, e
xactly, it feels more... intimate than that and at the back of Stiles head he th
inks he should maybe be worried but its so damn good to feel nice for once, inste
ad of scared and worried, to feel desirable and sexy and special. So yeah. Hes go
nna deny deny deny.
Derek shifts, just slightly, it bumps Stiles prostate and his breath catches but
then hes frowning drowsily, confused because Dereks big hands are reaching for Sti
les wrists, drawing his arms down straight by his sides. Hes curious for a second,
and then every thought in his head vanishes into a cloud of bliss because Dereks
thumbs are pressing into his palms, hard, fingers working along the back of his
hands, wrists and forearms, squeezing the muscles there that get tight from wri
ting and typing and uh, other activities and Stiles groans, long and loud. Oh go
d, that feels so damn good.
He can hear the smile in Dereks voice. Should I feel offended that its not my dick
giving you that reaction?
Hey, your dick has had plenty of appreciation from me, Stiles slurs. Plenty. I was
totally composing a haiku to it last night, not that you noticed.
Hm, Derek says, noncommittal, and then this insanity continues because he works ea
ch hand up higher, squeezing and releasing, thumb occasionally digging in at a s
ore spot, up Stiless biceps and triceps and on to his shoulders and back and Dere
ks dick is shifting inside him in small increments, but its like he doesnt even car
e about fucking Stiles extremely willing ass, hes so focused on Stiles body in its
entirety.
He feels a rush of heat sweep up his body from his toes all the way to his head,
and this time when he moans its all about his rapidly rising arousal. Derek, he sa
ys. Derek.
Yeah, the other man returns huskily. Stiles.
Fuck me.
I am.
No, fuck me.
This time he feels the grin, because Derek has bent down to mouth at Stiless back
. Definitely on my list, he says, and bites gently across Stiles shoulder. Christ, he
murmurs as if to himself, I fucking love your skin.
Sjust skin, Stiles mutters back
Its perfect, Derek says, kissing his way down Stiles spine. Youre all creamy and smoot
h, its just begging me to lick and bite and lick, and Stiles whimpers.
I like licking, he says. Biting is awesome too when Derek does it but he cant be bo
thered to say so right now. Hes so very aware of his body, his position. Dereks st
rong thighs pressed against his, opening Stiles for his thick cock which is stil
l not moving, the warm Derek-blanket at his back and the pillow beneath his groi
n he is helplessly grinding into.
Dereks hands slide around his waist, and for a moment Stiles cock has a perky thou
ght, hell yeah, here I am, but instead of the expected those hands sweep up and
up, smoothing over belly and chest, coming to rest over Stiles collarbones, just
pressing close, Dereks belly against his back and he breathes, shaky all of a sud
den.
Derek, he moans, and hes pleading, overwhelmed by the tease of Dereks cock inside hi
m and his weight all over him and his mouth biting at Stiles nape, just, I need, p
lease-
Yeah, he murmurs back, impossibly gentle, and his hips begin moving in a slow, per
fect slide. Out, and slowly in.
Stiles breath hitches in gratitude, in prayer maybe, hes so far gone already and t
hey havent even done anything.
Im here, Derek murmurs, tone so gentle. Ive got you.
Yeah, oh shit, yeah you do, Stiles thinks, dizzy with lust and the unwelcome rea
lization that he is in so far over his head, damn it, damn Derek for bewitching
him with honest desire and compassion and his magic goddam cock-
The tempo doesnt vary, its the sweetest torture, the perfect slide of skin on skin
and heat and tightness and Stiles is whining into the pillow, has to hide his f
ace before he says something dumb.
Derek is mumbling against his shoulder, hands finally moving, one planting on th
e mattress to take Dereks weight while the other slides down to cup Stiles hip, ho
ld him in place for the fuck of a lifetime.
Each deliberate stroke takes Stiles a little higher, but in such tiny increments
he wants to scream and yet he was already so turned on he should be done alread
y but somethings different, hes splayed open and cant hide anymore, and theres nothi
ng but Derek Derek Derek.
Perfect, God, so damn hot- youre, you just, yeah, oh shit there, I need, hmm, fuck
, Derek-
With a kind of distant horror Stiles realizes that hoarse stream of words is tum
bling from his lips. He drags in a shuddering breath and tries to stop it, manag
ing only to groan like hes dying and Derek is the only cure. But Derek is talking
too, mumbling praise and curses in equal measure and the threadiness of the old
er mans voice is the hottest thing Stiles has ever heard. Hes doing that to Derek,
its Stiles body and Stiles responsiveness and Stiles words that are breaking that i
ron control and he thinks, fuck it, just lets go, says whatever comes into his h
ead as the strokes grow steadily faster.
Yeah, you know youre gonna, oh god, therell be nothing left, just, just do it just
give it to me cos you know I can take it, I want it, fuck, you tease, you, just,
with your hands and that voice and hm, yeah, teeth, I like that too and youre al
l over me, man, Derek I cant think anymore I just need, need what you can give me
, I cant, I cant, Derek, Derek, I cant- and with a hoarse, broken sound Stiles entire
body seems to catch fire, orgasm whipping through him at some kind of cellular
level.
He comes and comes and comes, gasping and shaking and its only when Derek moans t
hrough his own orgasm and his fingers bite deep into Stiles hip that he realises
its the first time in his life hes come untouched.

Chapter 11: Sunday Bloody Sunday
Chapter Text

Theres something- Derek huffs out a breath and tries again. I need to tell you somet
hing.
Stiles hands go still in mid-air and the used coffee grounds plop wetly out of t
he French press, half of them missing the trashcan. Oh God. Thats as bad as tellin
g your significant other we need to talk. Is this the part where it all goes wro
ng and you admit youve been secretly broadcasting this live on the internet or th
at you actually are a serial killer?
Derek manages not to smile. No to both of those.
Hmf. Thats what you would say, Stiles mutters. He shakes the rest of the grounds ou
t and frowns at the mess on the floor.
Go ahead, then, Derek says, Take a look at HotSluttyTeens.com, see if theres a listi
ng for The Stiles.
Mock mock mock, Stiles shoots back, though hes gone a little pink, probably at the
thought that Derek thinks hes hot. Like that wasnt obvious, the dumbass.
No, its- its something about me, Derek says and takes a huge breath. Something I want
to- show you, before- before. He cant say before its over, it makes his stomach ch
urn.
Yeah, Stiles says, glancing away. He scratches at his head, That reminds me. We, uh
, never did iron out the details, tomorrows Monday, but with the whole days too thi
ng I wasnt sure when our uh, finish actually was.
Derek rolls his eyes. You honestly think Im going to ask you to skip school so we
can screw around?
Stiles shrugs, offers a small grin. Ive probably done it for worse reasons than th
at, man.
No. No skipping school. He takes a breath and makes himself offer, In fact, if you
need- tonight- I mean-
No, Stiles says firmly. We made an agreement. Ill be here until morning. Long as Im u
p pretty early I can make it on time.
Okay. So. Uh. Dyou want to... go for a drive?
Stiles raises an eyebrow. Go for a drive?
Yeah. This... I have something to show you but um, not in the city.
Its not a shallow grave, is it? Stiles says faintly, then cracks up when Derek scow
ls. Come on, man, I couldnt resist. Okay. A drive to the woods, it is.
I left my car a fair distance away, Derek says, I can go-
Mines just a few blocks away, Stiles says after a bare moment of hesitation, and De
rek nods. Better if Stiles has the control. If he freaks out, he can take off in
his own car. Derek takes a few deep breaths. Hes scared. No point pretending hes
not.
Okay, he says, and then clams up while they shower and get dressed again in the on
ly clean clothes they have left. Derek jogs down to the basement and switches ou
t their load of sheets and clothes from the washer to the dryer while Stiles is
in the shower. When he gets back Stiles has cleaned up the kitchen floor.
They barely talk on their way out of the apartment, and Stiles leads Derek in th
e opposite direction to the bowling alley. He casts a sideways glance at Stiles
and then nods to himself. Kid wouldnt want to risk the car being mistaken for aba
ndoned. He must have moved it yesterday.
Just so you know, Stiles says seriously, this car is everything to me. Insult her,
and walk home.
Ill remember.
He climbs into the Jeep, and listens closely for Stiles heartbeat. It occurs to h
im that he is now sitting within reach of both Stiles and all of the cash Derek
has given him. A suspicious person might-
Stiles heartbeat doesnt even stutter. Derek hugs the knowledge to himself all the
way to the highway. He breathes in deep and smiles a little at the realization
he hadnt been imagining things because of the close quarters of the apartment. Ev
en in the Jeep theres a definite Stiles-and-Derek scent.
Hey, have you ever had Rosas ice-cream? Stiles question breaks into his thoughts as
they blow past the You Are Leaving Palmerston sign.
What? Uh. Yeah. Not for years, though.
Want to have some now? Stiles hints heavily. We can pull in there first, and you ca
n do your big reveal with a side order of butterscotch pecan.
Sure, Derek says, shrugging. He stares out the window for a while, thinking about
the last time he had Rosas icecream, and fishes out his phone. He hesitates for a
long moment, then taps out a text he sends to Laura.
Im telling him.
Theyre pulling into the parking lot at Rosas when his phone vibrates in his hand.
Im proud of you.
Wow, a full sentence of real words, Derek sends back. You MUST be.
Asshole.


Rosas is the kind of place only a local knows about, a converted truck stop that
looks incredibly uninviting from the road, and Derek wonders for a moment just w
here Stiles is from. He doubts its Palmerston, hes too cautious to do what hes doin
g in his own home town. There are about four small towns all within an easy driv
e of each other, it could be any one of those.
They file inside and line up behind a Korean family whose tiny daughter stares u
p at the two of them with wide, unblinking eyes. Stiles winks at her and she shu
ffles sideways just a tiny bit, pressed against her mothers leg, then offers a sh
y smile. Stiles beams at her, eyes crinkling at the corners. Derek swallows hard
and looks away, instincts flaring uncontrollably. Family.
They place their orders chocolate peanut butter and rumnraisin and step aside to
let make room at the register. Theres a weird moment where Derek reaches for his
wallet and catches the sudden tension in Stiles jaw. He lets his hand drop away a
nd the kid pays for their order.
Hes reaching for his cup and plastic spoon when it happens. Derek. He freezes at he
aring pretty much the least welcome sound in the world right now, his uncles voic
e.
He takes one quick breath and turns, not-at-all-accidentally putting himself squ
arely between Stiles and his uncle, who lets the restroom door close behind him.
No sign of companionship for his uncle during this mating moon. You fucking hyp
ocrite, Derek thinks. Though to be fair, Peter has valid reasons for being a hea
d case, considering the last person he slept with murdered almost their entire f
amily.
Peter.
Its good to see you looking so well. I was worried, when you just up and disappear
ed.
Im twenty-three years old, Derek says. Your concern is unnecessary.
Clearly, Peter says, one eyebrow rising as he tilts his head to glance at Stiles. I
dont believe weve met-
Peter, Derek says flatly, youre crashing our first date.
Their eyes meet and hold. Out of sight, Derek reaches behind him and clasps Stil
es wrist. His pulse is slightly faster than normal, but nothing to worry about.
Well, Id hate to get in the way of something thats so clearly going well, Peter says
with a twisted smile. Which means, fuck, that hes noticed their scents, they way
theyre entwined. Derek has no idea what Peterll do next, though at least he still
doesnt know about the apartment back in Palmerston. He has that much breathing r
oom.
Ill see you in a few days, Derek says.
Of course. Peter offers another insincere smile and glances again at Stiles. I hope
your father improves quickly, he offers, and then leaves as Stiles heartbeat sudd
enly jackrabbits.
Fuck, Stiles says softly, and its like hes reading Dereks mind.
Derek turns, thoughts reeling. Peter recognized Stiles? What the hell?
I guess its true what they say, Stiles offers weakly, and he is breathing fast and
shallow. Ice cream really is bad for you.
Derek turns away again, watching Peter all the way to his car, makes sure he dri
ves out of the lot, pulls into traffic and drive away. I hope your father is feel
ing better soon, Derek repeats, once he knows Peter cant hear anymore.
Stiles slumps behind him, forehead pressed to Dereks back. Fuck, he whispers.
Derek says slowly. My uncle knows your father?
Fucking Beacon Hills, Stiles mutters. They collect their order on automatic, step
away from the counter and end up leaning awkwardly against a fridge full of soda
s in the far corner, both displaying the closed-off body language of people who
are trying hard not to have an argument in public.
Stiles. Derek repeats. He hadnt tried to make anything of it before, but now... Stil
es.
Stilinski. Is the name youre trying to think of, he says, low. His eyes are on the
floor.
Sheriff Stilinski, in fact.
Fuck, Derek says. Hell never eat rumnraisin again.

Chapter 12: Sunday 3:52
Notes:
Possible triggery references in this chapter. Panic attack and mentions of past
dubcon. Please read with care.
Chapter Text


So, Stiles says shakily when theyre back in the Jeep. This um. Changes things? He swi
rls his spoon through his ice-cream and doesnt eat.
Derek stares down at his hands. He has no idea what to do next. Hes fucking the u
nderage son of the Sheriff. Of his Sheriff. A man hes going to run into professio
nally, if not socially.
He takes a few deep breaths, trying to think, then closes his eyes at the remind
er contained in Stiles scent. Because actually, this changes nothing at all.
Stiles Stilinski - is still his Stiles. Derek still... feels the way he does. It
makes everything a thousand times more complicated, but.
No, he says. Keep going.
Youre not uh. Cutting your losses?
He turns his head and gives Stiles a long look. No, he says. He wants to say it wo
uld take a hell of a lot more than your last name to make me do that. But big de
clarations have never been Dereks style.
Stiles lets out a long breath and passes his cup to Derek. Okay, he says, and star
ts the Jeep. Okay.
Derek directs him to a picnic spot about a half-mile from the highway, and when
they get there and pull over he winds his window down and listens carefully for
signs of human occupation. Nothing.
He sits there for longer than he needs to, thinking about what hes about to do, t
he enormity of it. The cant-take-backness of this. He knows how he feels. Knows h
es... committed. But once hes done this, Stiles is in it too, even if hes no longer
interested in Derek. And yet - he cant offer any kind of commitment to Stiles un
less the kid knows the whole story.
He stares down at the phone hes still holding in his hand, thinking of the messag
e Laura had sent him that first day only yesterday, he corrects himself.
Only yesterday. What is he doing?
You deserve to be happy.
But this is his mate. Its not Dereks happiness that matters, its about caring for y
our mate, its about what Stiles needs. And maybe what Stiles needs is to walk awa
y from this clean.
Derek? You... okay?
He sets his phone on the dash and half-turns in his seat. The seat belt catches
at his throat and he releases it impatiently. Theres things you dont know about me,
he begins, and Stiles makes a well, duh face.
Right. Like, your middle name. Favourite sport. Occupation. Theres many many thing
s we dont know about each other although we do, now, know each others names, he add
s under his breath and he still sounds pissed about it. Yay.
James. Baseball. Paramedic.
Stiles blinks at him. Paramedic? Derek stares steadily back.
Paramedic. And now his heart is thundering. In Beacon Hills, naturally- its not a que
stion -because thats just my fucking life, of course you are. He presses his thumbs
to his eyes and lets out a long breath. So... you also know my Dad?
Havent met him since I started work, Derek says, Ive only been with the Department a
few months. He hesitates. But I met him... before. The night of the fire.
Oh right. Shit. Sorry. Yeah. Uh, can this get any more awkward. Okay. So.
I heard he was injured. I wasnt on that call. Had been on the other side of town at
a MVA while some deranged highschooler took potshots at the Sheriff and his dep
uty. But hed heard plenty about it, knew the guys had been seriously worried Stil
inskis knee had been damaged beyond repair.
Stiles has gone very still. Derek just waits. Hes heard, the way you do in a smal
l town, that theres the possibility the Sheriffs rehab wont be effective enough for
him to get back on the job. Its on the tip of his tongue to ask if thats why Stil
es is in trouble, but he hadnt brought the kid out here for that, and his rapid h
eartbeat is proof enough Stiles is not ready to talk.
When it becomes clear Stiles wont speak, Derek says, Were probably going to run int
o each other again.
Yeah, Stiles says on a rush of breath and lets his head thump back against the sea
t. Awk-ward, he sing-songs in what must be a quote.
Doesnt have to be.
Stiles blinks at the roof, turns his head toward Derek. Are you kidding? In what
universe could it be cool for us to run into each other at the freakin department
al picnic or something and pretend weve never even met?
His arms are flailing now, its a miracle he hasnt broken something considering the
limited room inside the Jeep, but then, hes probably had lots of practise. I had
your tongue in my ass just this morning, Derek, youve seen me completely unravell
ed and maybe this is some kind of blas skill you learn in your early twenties but
I really doubt I am gonna be able to just-
I meant maybe we dont have to pretend.
Stiles stumbles to a halt. Whuh?
It depends on you, Derek says and pretends his heart isnt hammering like crazy. Whet
her youre out, or prepared to be out, for one. And whether youre- stopping the... h
e does a little awkward flailing himself because theres no gesture that neatly co
nveys the message sleeping with people for money. Because I. I cant share.
Stiles is gaping at him. Are are you serious? Are you fucking- are you serious?
Im serious. I dont want this to be over.
No. Stiles says vehemently.
It feels a little like someone shoved a mountain ash spear through his throat an
d Derek takes a quick breath and tries to think through it. Maybe he doesnt want
to come out? But then maybe Derek just doesnt want to accept rejection when he he
ars it, because Stiles is still saying, No.
Stiles-
No, he shoves out of the Jeep and staggers away toward the trees. That is not, this
is not happening.
Stiles. Derek follows more slowly, stomach churning. The kids heartbeat is erratic.
He hadnt expected- well. He hadnt expected this.
He spins and points a finger at Derek, face dark with fury. You are- okay, becaus
e, this is just cruel, man. You need to stop this. Now. Just stop.
Derek freezes, hopelessly confused.
You dont just get to- to sit there and say that stuff. Just fucking, dangle it the
re and make it seem like- no. His voice is thick with near-tears and fury.
I dont understand. Youre angry with me, he says carefully, but I dont know why.
You dont know why? You dont- how can you fucking not know why? What are you, Derek,
challenged? Look at you. Stiles gestures, hands shaking.
Youre this, fucking- youve got it all together, youve got your awesome job and your
money and your goddam hot body and that scowling thing you do and I know I sound
like an asshole right now because you must have this fucking hole in your gut w
here your family used to be but Derek, your life is good. Its clean, it works, it
makes sense.
And Im just this, he heaves in a huge breath, voice breaking, and runs his forearm
over his face, hiding for a half-second, this fucking kid who cant fix anything, a
nd the first time it goes wrong how do I cope? I get on my knees for strangers,
for money, Derek. I didnt figure something out because you maybe didnt know this b
ut Im so fucking smart, he cries bitterly, People are always telling me so. But I d
idnt solve my problems with honest hard work or-
Stiles, stop.
Hes panting now, voice hoarse. Im fucking, just, used up, okay, Im seventeen and Ive
already screwed it up so I dont get to just, wave a fucking magic wand and have t
his awesome boyfriend and this cleaned-up life that suddenly works out just beca
use you say so, or because you see something in me that isnt fucking there, Derek
, not anymore-
Derek closes the gap between them with unnatural speed and wraps his arms around
Stiles. He doesnt want to hear any more. And its not helping Stiles to tear at hi
mself like this.
I want to be with you, Derek says into his hair. Stiles shoves at him, hard, tries
to kick, but he cant beat Derek and he cant make him go.
I care what happens next, Stiles. I care if you get to stop doing this and I care
if you go to college and have the life you were meant to have. Its not just fuck
ing, it never really was. I saw you and I wanted you, just you, Stiles, right fr
om the start. Im not lying to you and Im not trying to fix you because youre not br
oken. Youre just hurt, and you need time to mend. To heal. To forgive yourself, m
aybe. And I want to be there when that happens.
Stiles twists to the side and curls over Dereks arm, face turned away, and just p
ants, deep and frantic. Hes not slowing down, its getting worse and Derek realizes
a beat later this isnt simple emotion, its a panic attack.
Training kicks in and he lowers them both gently to the ground, wraps a hand aro
und both of Stiles. He fumbles for a moment, then starts talking about the only t
hing he can think of thats neutral. He talks about kids body, his breathing, his o
xygenated blood and the journey its taking to keep Stiles alive. His other hand c
hecks Stiles pulse, rests sometimes on his forehead or cheek or shoulder, a simpl
e source of human contact. He keeps his tone is low and even, not a hint of worr
y and Derek has never been so grateful in his life for the knowledge and experie
nce he picked up in his years in Seattle.
He talks about the young girl whose hand he held while they cut her and her unco
nscious mother out of a car and the elderly grandmother who would only stay on o
xygen if Derek held it there, while her house burned down in front of her, how h
e had been shaking the whole time but unable to walk away.
He talks about the smell of smoke, how it was the hardest thing to overcome in h
is ride-alongs, how the first time hed responded to the scene of a fire hed nearly
run, only the burst of a siren had cut through his flashback and given him a se
cond chance to stick it out. He tells Stiles his most embarrassing secret, that
he still cant light the candles on a birthday cake.
A lot of time has passed, hes counted twenty cars or more driving by on the dista
nt highway before Stiles stirs, pulls away from Derek and sprawls out on the gra
ss. The kids breathing has been steady and shallow for a good few minutes, long e
nough for Derek to admit to himself what hes suspected since they got back in the
car at Rosas.
He cant do this to Stiles. Cant drag him into the mess of werewolf secrecy and hun
ters and his possibly psychotic fucking uncle. Cant show Stiles his true face.
Derek takes a few careful breaths of his own. It aches, the knowledge, but Stile
s needs normalcy. Not another secret to keep, this one even larger than his own.
Wow, Stiles says finally, and blows out a breath, staring up at the sky.
He doesnt look at Derek, who hesitates, then slides a few feet away and stretches
out on the grass.
When I try to impress a guy, I just pull out all the stops, huh?
He smells of embarrassment, which Derek had expected, but theres another scent co
mbined, like a twist of sickness, it feels- purple-black to Derek, which makes n
o sense, smells dont have a color. Hes focused on that when Stiles adds, At least y
ou handled it better than the last time that happened during a trick.
Derek takes another shallow breath. Stiles hasnt used that word before, trick, an
d its not hard to guess that the kid is trying to piss him off. Trying to hurt hi
m. Its a defensive tactic, a good one, but there are very few distancing techniqu
es Stiles can employ that Derek hasnt mastered and made his own, years before.
Then the first part of the sentence slots into his brain. Click click click. Han
dled it better than the last time...
What? he breathes it. Let it not be true. Please.
Stiles takes another breath, faster this time, sharper, and adds carelessly, Yeah
, he was not impressed. Kept on fucking like a train, right through it. I blacke
d out at some point, I think. Probably not enough oxygen. I guess the noises wer
e annoying him so he wrapped his hand around my thr-
Dereks roar is the purest expression of black rage, the kind of blind grief and h
atred he hasnt felt since a night that smelled endlessly of smoke and loss.
He leaps, all instinct, claws and fangs searching for an enemy and there is noth
ing. Nothing. He cannot defeat-
A familiar heartbeat is thundering behind him and Derek spins, arms out to defen
d. His eyes find his mate, zero in on the wide eyes, the panting breaths and the
way he is shaking. Like waves on the beach, the wolfs rage flows away and sense
and understanding surge back into Dereks mind.
Fuck. Oh fuck.

Chapter 13: Sunday Sun
Chapter Text

Stiles hasnt moved. Thank Christ, hes had enough sense not no, Derek thinks, shame
d, he was too fucking terrified to run.
He shifts back, immediately, far too late and far too sudden. Stiles takes anoth
er hitching breath, and now he scrabbles back on the grass and dirt, fingers dig
ging in. His scent is sharp, like glass and steel. What. What-
Derek sits, folds himself up slowly until hes cross-legged on the grass about six
feet from Stiles, and waits, head down, for whatever comes next.
Two cars drive by on the highway. Then a truck with a crapped-out exhaust. A del
ivery van of some kind, two more cars, a motorbike. Another car, windows down an
d radio blaring. Stiles breath slows slightly, though in Dereks peripheral vision
he can see fine tremors in the kids body.
What-the-fuck-just-happened. Stiles says it slowly, and very clearly.
Derek keeps his eyes on the ground. He doesnt want to see fear or disgust on Stil
es face.
Hed planned it so carefully. Had imagined leaving Stiles in the Jeep so hed feel s
afe, protected, able to flee while Derek changed slowly. So slowly, at first hed
wonder if he was imagining what he was seeing.
Never. Never would he have exposed Stiles to a furious wolf in an uncontrolled r
age. He shudders at how completely he had-
I lost control, Derek says finally. One of his hands twitch, instinct telling him
to reach out and touch his mate, reason telling him his touch would be about as
welcome as Ebola right now.
You lost control, Stiles repeats. His heartbeat is levelling out. That answer doesnt
seem quite complete to me. When I lose control I say fuck a lot and talk too fa
st. Or I get mean with the sarcasm instead of amusingly witty. Worst case scenar
io, I dance. But never, Derek, not once in all my experiences of losing control
have I ever changed into some kind of fucking half-man half-beast.
Im sorry, Derek finally manages. I never- you never should have seen that. He chances
a quick glance up at Stiles. I you wont believe me, but. I wouldnt hurt you.
Stiles blinks at him and Derek looks away again. Hes suddenly glad he threw out h
is ice-cream untasted, itd be making a reappearance right now otherwise.
I. Um. Do believe you, I think, he says slowly, and the sharp note in his scent re
cedes slightly. But you havent answered my question. Because right now the only an
swer my brain can conjure involves Lon Chaney Jr.
Derek risks another look.
Oh my god. No way. His jaw drops open. You are- youre fucking kidding me. Youre an ho
nest-to-God werewolf? Werewolves are real?
Derek cant move. He hadnt anticipated this- mess. Hes done something that cant be un
done and it was solely due to his own loss of control. He hasnt changed without c
onscious thought since he was fifteen.
Im sorry, he says again, low. Im, Stiles, Im so sorry. I never meant.
Theres a pause, and he wants to see Stiles face so badly, but he cant make himself
look up. Such a fucking coward.
I, um, accept your apology? Stiles says finally. His heartbeat has finally evened
out, still too fast but. Not at panic levels anymore. Im not sure, though, if youre
sorry for scaring the ever living crap out of me or for spilling your secret in
the first place. Theres a long silence. Uh, Derek?
Both, I guess, he finally answers.
Okay. Um. So, you dont really need to apologize for showing me, uh, this.
He gives a short nod. Kid has no idea.
Derek, Stiles voice is suddenly very gentle. Would you look at me?
It takes most of his courage, but he does, finally. They stare at one another fo
r a long time. Stiles is pale, but not shocky, and Derek doesnt move, lets him st
are and think things over. Finally Stiles sighs. Pushes onto his hands and knees
and crawls closer. Derek holds himself still.
Lucky we werent in the apartment, he begins, conversational. Then tilts his head sh
arply. Or was it. Thats why we- did you bring me out here to show me- to tell me?
Derek nods.
Stiles sighs again. Trust you to go preverbal right when Im absolutely ready to ex
plode with questions.
Sorry.
Stiles glances at him sidelong. Then lifts a hand, brings it to rest on Dereks kn
ee. You can stop apologizing, you know.
He doesnt know. He could have killed Stiles. He looks down at that hand, at a ges
ture of trust he does not deserve.
You didnt hurt me. You scared the crap out of me, but thats it. And it wasnt even a
totally bad scare, I mean, how cool is this? Werewolves. Fucking werewolves. Unb
elievable. My life is a summer blockbuster.
Part of him wants to smile. Hed known it would be like this. Or hoped, anyway. Bu
t this isnt right, hed made the decision, the right decision, to protect Stiles fr
om this knowledge.
Derek, Stiles says, and the hand moves to cup his cheek. Then he sighs, and shifts
closer, knees pressing against Dereks thigh. Derek goes very still. Look at me.
He lifts his eyes obediently.
You didnt hurt me.
I could have, he whispers. That kind of rage, I could have killed you so easily and
not even noticed-
But you didnt. And you had reason, Stiles whispers. I mean, he swallows hard and his
voice dips, ashamed. I was baiting you. You know that. I knew exactly how youd rea
ct if I told you that-
Derek is breathing fast, claws lengthening and he grips his own thighs, hard, le
ts them dig through denim into his own skin and muscle where its safe. Tell me who
he was-
I dont even know, Stiles says softly. And he really doesnt matter anymore.
Derek growls in the back of his throat but keeps it there. His mate is near, too
close to risk.
He doesnt matter, because. Stiles stops, hand tightening on Dereks knee. That part of
things is over for me now. He sounds like hes afraid to believe it.
Derek searches his face, still breathing hard.
Right? he says, and his voice comes out very young and uncertain.
Right, he grinds out.
Stiles eyes him, and then, incredibly, he smiles. Okay. So many things are coming
clear to me. The throat thing, for one, you really like that whole bared throat
thing. You have like, animal instincts, even in this form, right? And you marke
d me, that first night.
Derek just stares, helpless, at his mate. Where is the withdrawal. The distance?
The doubt? He changed into a monster and Stiles is curled in his lap talking ab
out instinctive animal behavior.
Are you- honestly okay with this?
Stiles stops mid-sentence and blinks. I. Um. Think Im probably gonna reserve the r
ight to freak out once or twice in the future? But yeah. Right now, anyway, Im al
l right.
Derek gives him a long look of disbelief.
Derek, he says patiently, you brought me to a deserted wood at a moment when not on
e person on the face of the earth knows where I am. And what did you do?
Shifted into a fucking monster and nearly k-
You talked me down from a panic attack. You snuggled me. Im finding it very hard t
o see the monster in all this. Well. Except for the actual monster teeth. And cl
aws, he amends.
Derek shakes his head. Stiles nudges forward a little bit. Can I, can I see? he as
ks tentatively.
Derek frowns, not sure what he means, then Stiles lifts his hand to Dereks face a
nd brushes his fingers over Dereks lips. The fangs. Can I see them?
You want-
You can do it slowly, right? Without uh, losing it? At some point while Derek was
freaking out, Stiles has moved closer and now he shifts to straddle Dereks lap.
Youre serious, Derek says slowly. His hands curl around Stiless hips automatically.
In three seconds flat hell be hard. Stupid no-brain dick.
Yeah Im serious. Stiles voice is suddenly husky. Show me those babies.
I- Derek hesitates, and Stiles takes advantage and slides his thumb along Dereks bo
ttom lip. He breathes in deep, lips parting on instinct and their eyes lock as h
is tongue curls around Stiles thumb.
Show me, Stiles breathes, amber eyes hypnotic in the sunlight, and Dereks fangs pus
h through, achingly slow, so careful not to nick Stiles fragile skin.
He opens his mouth a little wider, feels them reach full extension and keeps his
eyes on Stiles face. Woah, the kid breathes, eyes locked on Dereks mouth. He leans
in closer, and Derek feels the faintest brush against his gum before Stiles thumb
strokes down over the smooth curve of Dereks fang. That is completely fucking ama
zing. His heartbeat is steady and true, no sudden burst of sweat from adrenaline
or panic. Hes truly unafraid, genuinely fascinated, and Derek finds his own heart
thudding harder. Hes terrified, suddenly, that hell say or do something else to f
uck this up. How many chances will Stiles give him?
Stiles licks his lips, completely unselfconscious, and Dereks hands tighten on hi
s hips. Those amber eyes lift to his. Amazing, he says, and glances down at Dereks
mouth again, this time stroking over Dereks bottom lip before he raises his eyes
again.
I can kiss you, right? You wont bite me, or whatever, if thats even how it works, I
mean, weve k-
Derek kisses him.
Its gentle, and contained, and he can feel his own sudden panic soothe at Stiles c
loseness, his pliability beneath Dereks hands.
In the middle of it, Stiles jerks suddenly and pulls back, wide eyed. Derek has
his hands in mid-air before hes finished pulling away but its not a panic attack,
not fear. Instead the kid bursts into uncontrolled peals of laughter. Dereks neve
r seen him so lost, huge belly laughs shaking his entire body, he nearly slams t
heir heads together which seems to just set him off even worse.
Stunned, Derek stares, hands loosening, and then he feels the first lick of hurt
, or embarrassment or whatever, because hed been, hed felt kissing like that, slow
and sweet and gentle after hed shown Stiles what he-
He lets go and slides out from under Stiles, who is choking on laughter, huge un
attractive snorts of it, and Derek turns his head away. Okay. Okay. Stiles emotio
ns are his own. And hes entitled to his reactions. Hysteria. Whatever. It just. H
urts.
Oh shit, Stiles gasps, and a hand grasps at Dereks arm, shit, sorry, I know, Im an as
shole, babe, wait, Im not, hes still fighting back laughter as he pulls Derek aroun
d to face him. Shit, just, give me a minute. His hand never shifts its grip from D
ereks shirt and after a while he gets control of himself.
Im sorry, God, shit, sorry, dont- just give me a second. Finally he shakes his head
and climbs back into Dereks lap, shoving and arranging Derek until theyre pressed
together again. Its a silent apology that eases the tension in Dereks back.
Stiles is still grinning into Dereks hair, shaking his head. I just. Do you rememb
er, that first night, there was something I was going to say or do, when I came
back to the apartment.
Hed kissed Stiles mid-sentence, hadnt been able to wait another second. Derek nods
.
And then by the time you were done with me I didnt have the first clue what I was
going to say. To be honest, I was lucky to know my own name. Well. I just rememb
ered the rule I was going to set that night, and he starts to laugh again, shakin
g his head. Then he raises a hand, one finger raised, trying for stern. No kissin
g.
Derek blinks, then his lips twitch. He fights it but after a moment, starts to g
rin, shakes his head.
Stiles is already laughing again. What a dumbass. What a pair we make. We must be
the worst hooker/client combination in the history of hookers and clients.
Dereks thumbs brush over his hips.Or the best.


Chapter 14: Just Another Sunday
Chapter Text


They spend a good half-hour twined together on the grass. Stiles lets the questi
ons just burble out, Derek still seems a little stunned, bemused maybe, who know
s when this will wear off and hell be stoic!Derek again.
So he doesnt censor himself are vampires real (dont know, never met one) can a hum
an be turned (yes but only by the bite of an alpha) why dont you turn into a full
wolf, the movies do it way better (because only alphas do, seriously, Stiles?)
what about unicorns (Jesus, I dont know) and maybe that last one used up all his
credit points so he switches tactics.
So if youve got all these wolfy instincts, I bet youd love a good hard rut in the w
oods, Stiles says casually. Hes still idly petting Dereks face, which is probably w
eird since the other man is no longer shifted, its just his normal human face rig
ht now, the one of which Stiles has become extremely fond. But Dereks not objecti
ng so he keeps right on going. Am I right.
Derek gives him a flat look of disbelief. You want to fuck.
Stiles lips twitch, because that is not a flashlight in Dereks pocket. Im just sayin,
he says with a shrug. Im here, man, youre here. He starts forward, then suddenly fre
ezes. Wait a minute. It was the full moon last night- is that what this is? Are y
ou this horny every month? Jeez-
No. Stiles- He closes his eyes. Not. No. The full moon is- it doesnt affect me like
that. I mean, it has some impact, I generally go for a run, the wolf is closer t
o the surface, thats true. But. He swallows. This every now and then theres a we cal
l it the mating moon.
Mating moon, Stiles repeats. Hes stroking Dereks shoulders absently, eyes tracing ov
er the wolfs body, rediscovering everything in the light of new knowledge. He sl
ants a sly glance up at Derek. Youre not gonna give me a bunch of little wolf cubs
, right?
Derek rolls his eyes. Unless youre somehow concealing your secret identity as a wo
man, or mutant with a uterus, no.
Color me relieved. Mating moon, he says again, musing. Explains the horniness. But.
.. youve never done this before, so... he says, slower, recalling past conversatio
ns and managing to skirt around the paying for it part. Never been single during
a mating moon?
Derek snorts. Ive been single for every mating moon Ive ever endured, he says flatly
, ignoring the look of disbelief Stiles gives him.
How is it possible someone this hot who also wears a uniform, fuck, theres a ment
al image hes never going to lose doesnt have hotties just lined up around the bloc
k?
Ive pretty much been single since I was a teenager, Derek adds, instead of since th
e fire.
Oh babe, Stiles thinks, heart aching. Derek must scowl people into submission, a
nd when that doesnt work he broods at them until they back off. Good thing Stiles
is made of sterner stuff than that.
Usually I just- wait for it to be over. He slants a glance up at Stiles. When Im on
my own its not- well. Its never been this... intense.
Okay. Stiles is just going to wrap that concept around himself like a warm blank
et. He takes a breath to steady himself. So...you just- what? Hibernate at the ap
artment?
Derek shrugs.
Stiles gapes. And now I find myself amazed all over again that there is no TV.
Derek shakes his head, Would you let it go about the TV?
Never, he shoots back, unrepentant.
They get into a weird kind of wrestling match after that, not really involving m
uch other than general close contact and grinning at each other. When Stiles is
victorious pinned beneath Derek, naturally. What other outcome would be worth fi
ghting for? he lets his body go limp and watches the feral light appear in Dereks
eye. Oh yeah. A lot of stuff is making more sense now. Good thing his Dad is su
ch a fan of David Attenborough. Stiles has absorbed so much predator/prey behavi
our, this wolf isnt going to know what hit him.
He lies there, staring up at the Dereks face and the sky beyond and lets recent e
vents filter through his brain without going too deep. Hes not ready to think abo
ut his own meltdown, other than the fact that he feels a bit like hed unknowingly
been carrying a large stone in his stomach all these weeks, and now its gone.
The wolf stuff? Well. Hes reserving the right to have a tiny tiny freakout about
that in private, later.
Werewolves, man! Oh, it is gonna kill him not to tell Scott. Hes going to have to
ask Derek about that at some point. How can he not tell Scott?
Derek is snuffling at his neck when Stiles mouth re-engages without permission.
Hey, how come you had that kind of money just lying around?
Whoops. Hadnt meant to bring up the money/hooker thing again after his recent out
burst. But he cant help it, rabbity little brain Wants To Know. He knows what cop
s and firefighters make, and it does not lead to huge wads of cash laying around
the house. Thats strictly the province of drug dealers and television evangelist
s, thank you very much.
Derek goes very still. Yay. Well done Stiles, Dumbass of the Year.
Its. From the fire.
Now Stiles freezes. Its- what? Like, the insurance money? Oh God. Oh Jesus, the ins
urance payout from Dereks many dead family members is sitting in his Jeep-
No, Derek says, head down and voice low. Not insurance. More like - reparation.
Reparation? What the actual fuck?
Derek slides back a little and Stiles just wraps around him like a vine. He migh
t not have wolfy instincts but he knows when someone is dying on the inside. No
way he is letting Derek go.
What do you know about the fire?
Stiles swallows. Okay, so he reads his Dads files which is not exactly legal and
is probably pretty morally corrupt, but how else is he ever going to know stuff?
Just once, though, he wishes hed kept his nose out of things. I. Um. It was. Arso
n. But the insurers first finding was accidental. And then the...
The insurance investigator came forward and admitted hed been paid off.
Yeah. Stiles keeps breathing carefully. His Dad had never been satisfied by the wa
y this case had played out. It had all made sense, not like a frame-up, but. Hed
sat up night after night, puzzling over it. Why had the guy come forward in the
first place, when no-one had even suspected his involvement?
My uncle. Derek takes a slow, careful breath. He knew. Who had set the fire. Knew s
he must have paid the guy off. He.
Paid him a visit, Stiles provided cautiously, well able to imagine it. A guy carry
ing that much crazy threatens you? Yeah, youd pretty much confess to anything. So,
uh. Peters a werewolf, too?
Derek nods once.
How did he know who did it? Know about the insurance dude?
He smelled her, Derek said savagely.
Stiles doesnt want to say the name. They know who set the fire. The insurance guy
implicated her, and then she went missing.
More long nights with his Dad sitting awake, staring at the interview transcript
s, the many, many questions he had asked Peter Hale and Chris Argent and their f
amilies. But the alibi held. Kate Argent just disappeared, and her own brother s
wore Peter was with him the whole time, trying to track her down.
Shed never been seen again.
Your uncle killed Kate. Right?
Now Derek slides back and Stiles lets him go. Because this- this is. Big. And he
realizes suddenly Derek wont answer, has enough loyalty to Peter not to compromi
se him, and will never make Stiles keep that secret from his father. Do you know
why she set the fire? Derek says instead.
Stiles shakes his head helplessly. That was the third thing that had bothered St
iles Dad. What the hell was her motive? Shed been having an affair with an unident
ified man suspected to be a Hale, never proven. And no-one could be sure of her
intended victims. Had she meant to kill the entire family, or not?
No, he says with difficulty. I dont know why.
A beat later Stiles remembers with a rush that his fathers list of the Hale men lis
t had included Dereks father, uncle, and possibly Derek himself. The Sheriff had
never told Stiles his private suspicions about the affair, or whether the victim
s had been accidental or not. Little kids, for fucks sake. Stiles had woken with
nightmares for weeks after seeing the crime scene photos.
The Argent family are hunters, Derek says, and Stiles stares at him blankly. They h
unt our kind, Derek adds, and ohhhhh.
So it was- because youre werewolves? Stiles says, breathless. He is suddenly thinki
ng of Allison, Allison Argent who caught Scotts eye a year ago and has been the c
entre of his best friends thoughts ever since.
Dereks face is like stone.
Stiles just sits there. Hes never felt so much like a kid, so completely out of h
is depth.
The Hale pack is old. Were born wolves, not bitten, its part of us, he says, voice l
ow, eyes far away. We dont harm humans, half of my family were human. We live in p
eace, we break no laws and we live by the code.
Theres a code? Stiles wants to ask, but even his rabbit brain knows when to shut
up.
The hunters know us, they leave us alone on that condition. Kate didnt like the st
atus quo.
Fucking psycho.
She slept with Peter, Stiles says suddenly, with deep certainty. That guy had clea
rly been not right in the head. Guilt would do that to ya, he guesses.
She tried me first, Derek said, voice rough, and wait- what?
What?
She... came on to me. He shrugs. I met up with her once. Made out in an empty class
room at the high school.
Holy fuck.
It made me feel sick. He moves his shoulders, like hes trying to shift a weight. I t
hought it meant well, I already knew I was gay but I guess I was... curious. Any
way, I avoided her after that.
So she went after Peter instead.
He was married, Derek says, voice carefully flat.
Stiles takes a breath and bites his lip. Yeah. Guilt. Olympic-size swimming pool
s of guilt.
He and my Aunt Suki took care of us whenever Mom was having another baby, or if s
he and Dad had to go away. Theres another long pause, then Derek says slowly, She c
ould do the most amazing handstands. Andrew was always bugging her to show him.
She taught Laura and me how to roll our own sushi. His voice is heavy, and Stiles
swallows, wonders if hes ever told anyone these things before.
Theres silence for a long time, then Stiles says tentatively. So Peter had an affa
ir with Kate, not knowing who she was.
Derek nods, staring off into the distance. They came up for my Dads birthday. Pete
r must have snuck out to meet Kate and she used whatever he told her to trap the
m in the house. But my little sister-
He hesitates, blinks once and then pushes on. She dropped the carton of eggs and
broke them. Mom sent Laura into town to buy more so she could make Dads cake. Pe
ter went along to supervise because she was just learning to drive. I jumped in
at the last minute, my brother Jacob was bugging the hell out of me about the da
mn Nintendo-
They sit in silence then, Dereks hand covering his face.
We smelled the smoke all the way in town. But by the time we got back...
Stiles can feel tears tracking down his face. Hes not embarrassed. Some things de
serve tears. The sounds of the forest fold around them while Derek tears methodi
cally at the grass stalks within his reach.
The Argents, he finally says. They live by the code. Kate broke it.
So her brother helped Peter to kill her, or let him do it, and gave him an alibi
, Stiles thinks, but he doesnt ask. Wont ever ask again. Thats Allisons fucking aunt
, her father, he realizes all of a sudden, and wonders how much she knows.
The money, Derek says, and Stiles actually jolts. Hed forgotten what started this w
hole conversation. Derek is staring down at his hands. There was insurance money,
Derek says on a sigh. Normal stuff - life insurance, the house. I used some while
I was studying, the rest is waiting for a rainy day or a house of my own or wha
tever. But this money the cash. Its part of the hunters laws and traditions. Takin
g away our family with no justification theres consequences for that. Reparations
to pay.
Thats. Blood money, Stiles says, and he cant hold back his distaste.
Dereks eyes are remote, fixed on the treeline. I didnt want it. Couldnt spend it. Th
ey just showed up one day, with these three carved fucking hawthorn chests, one
for each of us. We couldnt refuse them, it would be an insult, restart the whole
mess. I wanted to get rid of my share but Laura- Dereks voice cuts off.
Stiles waits.
Shes the alpha, Derek finally says. She ordered me to keep it. I had to obey.
Thats what set you off, Stiles whispers. Why you ran.
Derek looks at him for the first time, offers a tiny smile. That moneys been sitti
ng in my apartment all these years, he finally says. I couldnt spend it. Everything
-
He silent for a long time and then he says simply, It all would have smelled of s
moke.
Stiles flinches at that, takes a struggling breath. Derek. I cant-
No, Derek says, and a warm hand suddenly covers Stiles forearm. Dont. I know what your
e- Stiles, dont you get it? This is the only possible use for that money I could
ever stomach. You need it. Its for a good purpose. My mother- he swallows hard and
closes his eyes. Shed be proud.


Chapter 15: I Scream Sunday
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text

A short time later Derek stills, lifts his head and sighs. Companys coming, he says
. Theyve had this little picnic area to themselves for a long time, he supposes,
considering its a gorgeous Sunday afternoon.
Stiles lifts his head. Huh?
Car just turned off the highway, he says, and tilts his head in the general direct
ion.
You can hear that?
He shrugs.
Cool, Stiles murmurs to himself. Okay. Uh. Gimme a second. Hes halfway to the Jeep wh
en he hesitates. Unless you wanna go?
Derek shakes his head slowly, eyes on Stiles. Not if you dont want to.
Like your natural habitat, huh? he grins as he heads back to the Jeep, Stiles door
still hanging wide open.
Cheeky little shit, Derek grumbles, and gets to his feet.
Stiles climbs inside the Jeep, locks Dereks door and then climbs back out, lockin
g his own door. He crosses to join Derek at the treeline, and they walk into the
woods in silence, Dereks senses mostly focused on the newcomers behind them, mak
ing sure theyre not interested in the Jeep, dont recognize it.
So... enhanced hearing, Stiles says. Must be nice.
Has its moments. Its a middle-aged couple bringing their dog out for a run, by the
sound of it. Derek sighs when they enter the trees on the same side of the woods
, then shrugs and nudges Stiles off to the right.
Any other senses?
Smell and sight, too.
Hmm. So... you basically have the wolf senses whichever form youre in?
Close enough, Derek says. Its still processed by a human body, so theres some drop-of
f. He blinks a little, looking away. Hes forgotten how nice it is to just talk abo
ut his life without censoring himself. His brother Andrew had loved experimentin
g with the whole thing, endlessly fascinated by the wolves surrounding him.
In the next moment he loses track of anything that isnt Stiles. Hes kissed, thorou
ghly, long fingers sliding through his hair, legs tangling. Then Stiles lifts hi
s head.
Show me what you can do, he says, breathless.
Derek grins.
He leaps, deliberately dramatic, and rebounds off trees so swiftly he hears Stil
es suck in a quick breath. In the canopy, out of sight, he shifts, still a littl
e leery of letting Stiles see that, considering the last time. Then he hurls him
self out of the tree, over Stiles head, waits until the kid whips in his directio
n and then he runs, fast as he can, a long arc that would take a human a good tw
enty minutes at top speed, but close enough that Stiles will still be able to he
ar the rapid thud of his feet.
He reappears at Stiles side and shifts back to fully human as the kid startles a
nd turns toward him.
Jesus, he says, and laughs. Thats- thats amazing.
Derek takes a few deep breaths, soaking up the unafraid-ness of Stiles scent. The
kids eyes travel over his body, stop on the fresh tears in Dereks jeans where his
claws had dug in. What- whats this?
Derek shrugs.
No, no shrugging Mr Stoic, what- Derek can see the moment he works it out, the gla
nce that flicks from Dereks harmless human hands and back again. Stiles takes a s
teadying breath, then reaches out to touch. Hes working it out, and Derek stays s
ilent and still until he says. You- you heal, too?
Yes.
Stiles nods to himself, and then Derek suddenly doesnt want to talk anymore. He m
oves forward, lets the motion of his body manoever Stiles backwards, arms automa
tically flailing, until he bumps up against a tree. Wh-
Derek leans in for a kiss thats more effective than any explanation.



Stiles is openly moaning when the kiss ends. It was just a kiss, fucks sake, but
he is shaking. Theres something about being out here, in the open, in Dereks eleme
nt, seeing his true nature. Its impossible not to feel vulnerable, dizzy, weakene
d though thats mostly his knees, and it happens every time they kiss.
But this isnt going to be just a kiss.
Derek keeps his eyes locked on Stiles, works the button fly of his jeans slowly,
like the porniest fucking tease of all time.
Pop, the top button comes free. Stiles breath is coming faster. Pop, the next bu
tton, and he licks his lips, watches Dereks eyes drop and darken. Pop, the next b
utton slips through and now Stiles can feel his jeans easing away from his hips.
Pop, another button and the back of Dereks fingers brush against his straining c
ock.
Shit, he says shakily, Fuck, Derek.
Pop, the last button works free and Dereks mouth covers his, opening him up for a
nother filthy, hungry kiss.
Stiles is moaning freely by the time Derek drops to his knees and he chokes as D
erek frees his cock, shoves his jeans down just enough and swallows him down to
the root.
Oh God, he says, this is, this is not, uh, hmm, not going to take l-
Derek slides off to mouth at Stiles balls and his knees give just a little, hands
flying out to grab Dereks shoulders, his hair. Derek.
He catches a glint of teeth as the bastard grins, then Derek stills abruptly and
turns his head to the right, staring into the trees.
Wh-what is it? Stiles brains are currently the consistency of maple syrup.
Derek doesnt answer. Stiles glances down at him, follows his glance and sees a bi
g dumb dog peering between trees, eyes locked with Derek. Stiles glances back, s
ees Dereks head tilt forward, eyes flashing that same amazing blue as before. The
dog drops to its belly in clear submission.
Patches? Paaatches, comes a human voice and oh, Stiles suddenly gets it. Damn, sud
denly the woods arent big enough?
Go, Derek husks, and wow, that raspy voice just gets Stiles every time.
Patches lets out a soft yip, and goes.
Stiles grabs hold of Derek and hauls him to his feet, gasps when the denim cover
ing Dereks hard cock brushes against his own erection.
Get, I want, he mutters against Dereks lips, fumbling with the zipper. I want-
And then Dereks jeans are open, two sets of hands making fast work of underwear a
nd their cocks brush and Stiles moans. Hes fumbling in his pocket, damn his jeans
are almost around his knees now, Shirt, he gasps. Shirt off. Dereks shirts should al
ways be off.
Derek clearly agrees, because both their shirts seem to evaporate wow, there are
so many good uses for those wolfy superpowers and Stiles finally has the lube h
ed taken from the Jeep in his hands. He squirts way too much of it into his palm
and then theres the slick slide, both of them inhaling sharply at the coolness th
at turns swiftly to heat.
Oh, ohhh, Stiles moans, completely unashamed, and Derek leans forward to kiss him,
deep and hungry and the rumble of sound that comes from that perfect chest has
Stiles breath hitching. God, fuck, he so very much loves kissing Derek.
His hands keep working them both, and Stiles brain is buzzing, the dominance of D
ereks sheer physical presence, his beauty, his strength all tumbling around in hi
s head with the memory of Derek beneath him just last night, taking Stiles insid
e that body, begging for it, fuck, this is, this is bigger than hed thought, and
hed already thought he was in deep trouble.
Its both of them. It is. Derek has not submitted but he has given Stiles privileg
es beyond the sexual that no-one else gets, he understands that without asking.
Fuck, Stiles gasps. This is serious. This is real. His hearts not getting broken, a
nd thats almost as terrifying as if it was. Derek. Derek. Jesus, you, youre just-
And hes talking too much, because Dereks given up on kissing and is working his wa
y down Stiles throat, but thats okay, thats good too, his hips hitch as Derek sucks
a hickey into his throat, low down. Derek breathes in deep, rumbles again and r
olls his hips against Stiles and he says without thinking, Do I smell like you?
And Derek bites, hips jerking, hands sliding down Stiles flanks and inside his lo
osened jeans to cup his ass, fingers kneading.
Do you smell like me?
Derek moans, helpless, mouth opening over Stiles nipple and he moans back, balls
tightening, and then Derek stiffens, still for just a second before he rolls his
hips again, cocks sliding through Stiles fist and he lets out a stuttering kind
of sound, not even enough breath for a moan.
Im close, Derek mutters into the skin of Stiles chest. Fuck, he mutters, youre gorgeou
Oh God, Stiles gasps, because that is crazy but it totally works, Yeah, yeah, Im- and
then, right fucking then he hears what Derek must have already heard, human fuc
king voices coming from their left-
-dont know why he would just run off like that, hes never - well he is still an an
imal, Carol, no matter how well trained-
He freezes, no, god damn it, no and then Derek lifts his head, eyes dark, face f
lushed. Dont stop, he says, voice guttural, and that is the fucking hottest thing S
tiles has ever seen or heard.
Ohh, is all he manages, then bites his lip. Fuck. He cant be quiet, hell never-
-and then all that whimpering business just now? What on earth-
Dereks big hand covers his, working both their cocks and Stiles bites his lip har
der, whimpering a little. His balls draw up and hes gonna shout, fuck, he cant kee
p it in-
Derek other arm appears beside his cheek, palm flat against the trunk of the tre
e. Bite, he rumbles, low, and Stiles sees the flash of blue in his eyes as he says
it. So... not just practicality. A wolf thing too. A wolf that must be half-sta
rved of affection, given the way Derek has been hiding it.
-probably found a smell he didnt recognize, Carol.
He turns his head, feels the heat of climax wash over him as he opens his lips a
nd licks at Dereks forearm. Derek gasps, and when Stiles flicks a glance at him,
his fangs are extending, only just visible past those wet, parted lips.
Fuck, Stiles closes his eyes, turns his head and lets it happen.
His orgasm rips through him and he bites.

***

Bert and Carol and Patches, thankfully, have fucked off to God knows where. Dere
k is almost grateful to them. He lifts his arm, watches the bite mark that is al
most completely faded. He sighs silently and lowers his arm to pull Stiles close
r.
Not that they can really get much closer, curled up together in a sunlit patch o
f grass. Still. He doesnt mind trying. He breathes in deep, lets his eyes close o
n the feeling of rightness. Long moments of stillness stretch out between their
breaths.
I did- try, yknow. Stiles is whispering, lips moving against the light fuzz on Dere
ks belly. Its only slightly sticky, he- there may have been a licking frenzy durin
g the afterglow. Its hard to contain the wolf, now that Stiles knows.
Hmm?
I did try to- other things. A normal job.
Derek tenses, then forces himself to relax when the second realization hits that
Stiles is - finally - talking about it. I believe you, he says after a moment, a
nd just waits.
Stiles is silent for a long time, head resting on Dereks chest, watching their ha
nds and toying with Dereks fingers.
My. He stalls out, tries again. My Nanna. He sighs. The GFC, it, I dunno, messed up h
er condos management company, I think. They didnt have proper insurance anymore or
something? I didnt really pay that much attention to the details, it was almost
two years ago, but the bank was gonna call in her mortgage over it, so Dad spent
his savings and then redrew on our house so he could pay off her debt, let her
have some peace of mind.
Sounds like the right thing to do.
Yeah. Stiles sighs. Definitely. I mean, yknow, she stopped looking like she was gonn
a fold up from the weight of all the worry, once she got over the yelling at Dad
for interfering and the embarrassment of needing help. She doesnt like, I dont kn
ow, admitting she cant do everything on her own.
Really, Derek says, desert dry. Lucky she didnt pass that on to anyone else in the f
amily.
Shut up, he says without heat.
Theres a pause, and Derek thinks about leaving it, then says tentatively, So, that
was a while ago? Because hes as certain as he can be that Stiles time on the stree
t has been recent and short.
Yeah. He noses up, presses his face into Dereks shirt where its bunched over his che
st.
You dont have to tell me any of this, yknow, Derek says, just to be clear. But Stile
s brought this up, and he suspects the kid needs to tell someone all the ugly de
tails. Hell never tell anyone in Beacon Hills, and bottling it up will likely do
a boatload of harm.
Derek knows repression. He doesnt want that for Stiles.
I know. He doesnt move, face pressed into Dereks shirt. Finally theres a ragged sigh.
She- she didnt want anyone to know, but she was putting her medications on her cr
edit card. Had to, cause she was in the donut hole or whatever, where your insur
ance doesnt cover all the costs. Which is, he shrugs, fine, I guess. Well, not fine
. But. Apparently a lot of seniors do it. Its just- when she was trying to cover
the mortgage herself, she missed some payments and triggered the penalty and jus
t, never caught up.
The debt just kept on growing, right, Derek says with a sigh. Hes heard that tale o
f woe before, too.
Stiles nods. And then her neighbour found out, cos Nanna was, like, arguing with
the bank on the phone and got loud. So went I went down to see her after Dad was
hurt, Mrs Lomax cornered me in the car park and told me. Thirty grand in the ho
le, and its growing all the time.
Derek breathes deep.
She has a bad heart, Stiles mumbles. The worry could kill her.
He cups the back of Stiles head and feathers his fingers over the nape. Your Dad?
His body tenses up all over. Theyre already making noises about his heart, he choke
d out. Like the surgery strained it, like maybe they wont clear him to go back to
work. Itd kill him to give up the job. He sighs. Hed already talked to our bank abou
t freezing the mortgage payments til he was back on the job and I couldnt- couldnt
put that on him, too, and the extra stress mightve-
Okay, Derek soothes. Okay. Ssh.
I got a job, Stiles pushes on, and he just sounds tired now. I waited tables on wee
kends but that wasnt enough, I needed to work weeknights as well. Then I got worr
ied Dad would hear about it and want to know why I was working so much. So I cam
e here instead and started at this pizza dive, but between the hours and the dri
ving and visiting the hospital, I was so fucking exhausted all the time-
He sighs. And then my grades started to slip and they well, not Mr Harris who is
a total douche but the others were all going easy cause of Dad but I knew that wo
uldnt last and if my GPA slips then theres no scholarship and everyone, theyd Dad,
hed be so fucking disappointed-
Stiles is choking and Derek wraps his arms around tight, blinks at how natural i
t feels and it hits him then, all of a sudden, just how close he and Stiles have
gotten in the past two days. Jesus. The things hes told Stiles, the things the k
id has confided in turn, to Derek. Its okay, hes whispering, soothing. Derek Hale, w
ho hasnt offered a soothing word to another human being for years, outside of his
job.
He is taking care of his own, and it feels right.
...this guy, Stiles is saying, voice raw, total asshole, he used to I dont know, har
ass me or whatever about my cocksucking mouth and what hed love to do and this on
e night he just, I was exhausted and pissed and so fucking frustrated and I just
said, yeah, asshole, you couldnt afford me and then he just, the money was just
there and it was as much as Id make in a whole fucking night of bussing tables-
Sshh, Stiles, he says, turns his head and lets his breath flow over Stiles temples,
his cheek, his ear, an affirmation of life, of affection, All right.
I threw up, afterwards, he says dully. Lucky I was already taking out the trash. An
d then I just. Just thought. Fuck it. Fuck it, yknow, why the fuck not, what the
hell did it matter, I was already-
Its okay, Derek says helplessly.
Im not, Stiles licks his lips. He takes a deep breath. I know what it looked like, t
hat night we met. But. Im not, on the streets like that.
Derek blinks. He lifts his head and meets his mates eyes.
Stiles sighs. Look, Im a cops kid, okay? And Beacon Hills may not be a seething met
ropolis but even there you see enough pathetic cases in Booking to figure out th
at working the streets gets pretty ugly, damn quick, no matter how careful you a
re.
Derek takes another breath, easier this time. The hard ache in his chest is unwi
nding a little, letting go of some of the images hes seen in the line of duty. Pr
ostitutes shrugging off rape with dull rage in their eyes, the sudden nasty scuf
fles over turf-
Theres a guy who runs an agency, Id heard some of the other deputies talk about him
, kind of grudgingly approving. He... takes care of his people. He makes his mon
ey, sure, but theyre safe and clean. No nasty surprises with the clients. I went
to him. Stiles swallows. Turns out a young guy with a certain look can make... eno
ugh.
And Friday night?
Stiles shrugs. I have- had a client with a rentboy kink, he says, low. He liked to
pick me up from the kerbside, drop me back there.
Okay, Derek says. Okay. He closes his eyes. Hes so damn relieved, and that makes so
much sense. What Stiles has been doing isnt exactly sunshine and roses but its a
shitload safer and less nasty than what Derek had pictured. It explains why hes s
till... Stiles. He takes a deep breath, smells the nerves that have the kid jitt
ering and realizes that despite everything Dereks already said, hes still waiting
for rejection.
You can let it go, Stiles, Derek says, low and even. Its behind you now. You can let
it go. Theres silence for a long time, then he takes a deep breath. Im just gonna t
ell you something now. You dont have to answer me, or say anything at all. Okay?
Stiless head moves against his chest.
Theres another ten thousand dollars of that money left. Im never going to spend it.
Not ever. Stiles has gone very still. On Monday, Im going to take that 10K and sta
sh it in the apartment. I wont ever look at it again. If you. If anything goes wr
ong. If your Nanna gets into trouble. If your Dads job goes south. Or for college
. You go there, and you take it, and you use it.
Derek takes a deep breath and licks dry lips. He cant make the declaration he wan
ts to. But he can hint around it. Stiles sharp brain will come around to the know
ledge in time. That moneys not mine, it never was. Its been sitting and waiting for
... something. Someone. My wolf recognized you, your scent, that first night of
the mating moon. So if you never need it, then one day you go and take it and gi
ve it to someone who does.
Neither of them moves for a long time. Stiles is breathing fast, face hidden.
Im not going to ask you to promise me, because I know youll do this. For me. For my
family. I cant touch that money, Stiles. Im asking you to take that weight from m
e. Make it so I can breathe again.
Stiles presses his damp face against Dereks chest, and his fingers dig in to Dere
ks flanks. They dont speak, but when Derek lets his eyes close, and breathes in de
ep, the woods smell fresh and clean. Not a trace of smoke.

Notes:
Many, many thanks to JadeSymb for advice and ideas on the teen hooker backstory.
I wanted to be as realistic as possible considering I have no knowledge at all,
and she was the one who pointed out that hookers on the streets really don't ma
ke much, there's a reason they all look so desperate. It's because they *are*.
It really aint Pretty Woman, guys.
Chapter 16: Sunday You Need Love, Monday Be Alone
Notes:
I have been forgetting to mention Diva0789 who has been a darling beta-ing this
monster for me. Thank you.
Chapter Text

He lies awake in bed that night in the glow of the moon, thinking over the past
few days, over every conversation theyve had, the little cues hes been learning an
d re-learning. In the early hours he rolls onto his side and watches Stiles, not
actively staring so much as storing it up, this beautiful kid with the heart to
o fierce to bother with its own protection.
Dawn comes and brings with it the weight of real life. The mating moon is over.
Hes already eaten and set the bowl back on the table by the time Stiles phone alar
m starts, blaring some god-awful song that Derek immediately tunes out. The kid
stumbles into the kitchen with one hand raised, already apologizing. Believe me,
I hate it too, he says through a yawn.
Hes scratching his bare chest, cheek creased from the pillow and hes utterly, utte
rly beautiful. Derek just stares, heart aching.
Dads idea, he adds. Its the only way to guarantee Ill actually get out of bed.
It takes far too long for Derek to pull himself together, Stiles is halfway thro
ugh his cup of coffee before he takes a deep breath and forces himself to just f
ucking do it.
Stiles. Derek waits until he glances over, face smooth and mildly curious. When is
your birthday?
Stiles freezes.
And Derek knows he was right. That wildly rocketing heartbeat the first night, h
ed taken it for panic at Stiles screwup, admitting he was underage, but it hadnt be
en just that. Two weeks, my werewolf ass.
At least tell me you really are seventeen. And now Dereks heart is pounding because
Stiles has that fresh, sweet face that could mean anything.
Fuck, Stiles breathes, staring at Derek, who just waits. Derek-
He folds his arms, forces his face to go blank, and Stiles closes his eyes. Ill be
eighteen in six months, he husks out, and all the air leaves Dereks lungs. Stiles
is all over him a half-second later, hands clutching at Dereks shirt.
Its just a fucking number, hes pleading now. He presses his face to Dereks. Dont- dont
Dont what, Stiles? Dont worry that Ive been sleeping with a fucking high school kid
whos a hell of a long way from legal?
Im the same person I was ten minutes ago, Stiles says, rapid and shocky. Its an arbit
rary fucking line, we both know that-
An arbitrary line that has real world consequences, Stiles, as youd know seeing yo
ure the son of the goddam Sheriff.
It doesnt have to- we can still be together, he insists. Trust him to cut right to
the heart of it. Because Derek doesnt care that he lied, not really. He knows why
Stiles did it. Its what happens next theyre both panicking about.
Derek turns his head to stare down at the floor, biting on his lip. Tell me. How-
how do you think this would work. We sneak around?
Theres no law against dating, Stiles says, desperate.
So we date. For six months. No sex. Derek gives him a look. You really think we cou
ld do that?
Couldnt we try?
He scrubs a hand over his face. Stiles, he sighs. Look. If we do this openly and we
slip up, Id lose my job, most likely. Even if I didnt itd be fucking difficult to
work with the Sheriffs department if Ive been charged with the statutory rape of t
he Sheriffs son.
That human heart is hammering. So we hide, then. We only meet here-
Because weve had so much luck with that. We ran into my goddamn uncle at a roadsid
e truckstop, Stiles. Your friend Scott has my picture on his phone, knows we spe
nt the weekend together. You really think we can count on everyone who already k
nows holding their tongue, and never running into anyone else?
Youve already decided. Havent you.
Theres silence. Stiles swallows hard, and backs away. Derek, he holds out his hands
, despairing. You said, you said you wanted me, wanted to be there, you said-
And I do. He wraps the kid up in his arms and buries his face against Stiles. Youre
everything to me, he growls. Dont ever- you have to know that, Stiles.
But youre sending me away, he says, voice breaking.
Derek breathes in deep, eyes closing. Stiles, he says, Stiles, listen to me. I dont
want to. I dont want to be apart from you, even the thought of it is driving me c
razy. But we have to do this, we have to.
Why? Just because Im not eighteen yet? Because you dont think we can-
Because this isnt casual for me, Derek hisses, and he leans back enough to shake St
iles, just a little, make him look Derek in the eye. Because you have no idea how
deep this goes for me, okay. Ive been up all night thinking about this and there
just isnt any other way. I want you Stiles, I want you forever, not just to be y
our first boyfriend or the guy who helped you out of a bad situation. I want to
be a permanent part of your life.
Then be that, Stiles yells, shoving hard, how the fuck can breaking up with me-
Tell me how you feel about me.
Wh-what?
How do you feel about me? Derek is suddenly deadly calm, he lets his hands fall to
his sides, eyes on Stiles face.
The room seems too small, too quiet. Stiles stares back at him. I. I- thats kind o
f a big que-look, I dont-
You dont know.
I- thats not- just, give me a second, okay, Stiles raises a hand in the classic wai
t gesture, but his heartbeat is out of control and his face is pale.
You dont know how you feel about me, Derek says, makes sure his voice is very even.
It costs him, though. He bites his lip hard enough to bleed. Come on, man up, H
ale, hes not trying to hurt you. Hes just young. Confused.
Thats not true, Stiles says tightly. He wraps his arms around his chest, shoulders
hunched, I may not have a glib answer ready but I care about you, I do.
I know that. I know you do. You care about me. You feel safe with me. You want me
. Right?
Stiles glares at him, Why does that sound like youre just listing more reasons we
should be apart?
Derek moistens his lips, nervous. Youve been through a lot these past few months.
Youre hurt, in a lot of different ways. He waits for Stiles to say something, but
he just shrugs at Derek, mule-stubborn. And then, in the space of a few days, mos
t of your worries are taken care of. Right?
Now Stiles looks less angry and more stricken. Derek, he begins, arms unfurling, I
know that I mean, youve done this amazing thing for m-
No, Derek half-shouts, spins away, God, dont.
Stiles just stares, one hand still reaching. Hes pale.
Derek closes his eyes and says more carefully, Dont tell me youre grateful, or that
you owe me, or anything like that. Please. Thats- that is the absolute last thin
g I want.
You- how can I possibly do that? Im supposed to forget? Pretend you didnt-
Dont you get it? Thats why thats what Im afraid of. This is all its too much, too so
. Too sudden. How can you know what youre really feeling, Stiles? Its all tied up
in all the other stuff thats happened this weekend. Gratitude. Sex. Guilt. Relief
.
You think Id go out with you because of the money, Stiles says, like a man thats bee
n stabbed but doesnt quite feel it yet. You think- think that Im, that Id keep-
No, Derek shoots back tightly. No. Then he sighs, exhausted, and tells the last, ugl
y truth he was trying to hold back. Not consciously.
Not consciously, Stiles echoes. He rubs a hand over his chest, staring dully at th
e floor.
Derek shrugs, helpless. How could you ever be sure? If we kept on as we are right
now?
You said. Said Im not a whore.
Oh fuck. His stomach roils. And I meant it. You know I meant it. Stiles, Derek say
s helplessly.
But you think-
I think I dont ever want you to feel confused about us. I dont want you to look bac
k and wonder if maybe you might have made different choices, if youd just had tim
e to think.
Stiles doesnt move. Derek stares at him helplessly, shit, why is he so bad with w
ords? He runs his hands over his face, trying to think, and then inspiration str
ikes.
Here, he grabs his phone off the kitchen counter and shoves it at Stiles. Look at t
he message history. Read them.
Stiles takes it, reluctant and confused, then navigates through the messages, fl
icking glances at Derek as he does. Derek can see the moment he finds the Laura
thread, watches him work backwards through it, to that first message.
I told my sister about you, Stiles, he says, and spreads his arms, willing him to
understand.
This is this is from Saturday morning, Stiles whispers, staring at the screen. From
- even then?
I told you, Derek says softly. I wanted you right from the start. Id have approached
you anywhere. If Id met you during an earthquake or on the morning of your own f
ucking wedding, Stiles, I would still have tried to win you.
Stiles hand falls to his side. He slides the phone onto the kitchen counter and
meets Dereks gaze, still pale but not wounded anymore.
I know what I want, Derek says, as calm and as sure as he can. I just want you to t
ake the time, and get some distance, and know for sure that you want the same th
ing. This is its too important to risk. For me. He steps closer.
Stiles just breathes for a while, then leans in until his forehead rests against
Dereks shoulder. What- what is it you expect me to do, exactly? His voice is thick
with tears. For six fucking months.
He cups the back of Stiles head. Just. Just take some time to be you again. Withou
t all the burdens. Without the guilt and self loathing, he thinks. Be seventeen. L
et your life go back to normal. Watch too much TV and do your college applicatio
ns and, he swallows, go on dates.
Dates? Stiles jerks back. You want me to date?
He keeps his breathing even with effort. I think you should maybe try.
You fucking want me to see other people? After all this- he gestures a little mani
cally. Your sister and the wolf stuff and this entire goddam weekend-
I think it couldnt hurt.
Stiles gapes at him. First of all, there is nobody on the entire west coast who w
ants to date me other than you.
Bullshit.
Second of all, how can you possibly think anyone else is going to compare to all
of this, he waves wildly at Derek.
Busted, he says, deadpan. Youve discovered my cunning plan.
Stiles stares. A second later, his lips twitch and he snorts. You, he pokes a fing
er into Dereks chest, are an asshole.
But Im your asshole, Derek thinks. He hopes. His kisses Stiles once, gently, and
then lets his hands fall away. Stiles looks mutinous for a moment, then sighs. D
erek knows better than to believe thats capitulation.
They separate, finally, and wander silently around the apartment putting their b
elongings in separate bags, tidying up the traces of the weekend theyve spent tog
ether.
Its fucking awful.
Can we at least- talk? Stiles asks, looking up from his laptop bag. He sounds hope
ful and it hurts.
Derek hesitates, head down. He stares into the sink. I think... better not, he say
s, and dries the fucking Jacob mug.
We cant even talk to each other? Thats- fucked up.
The point is for you to get some distance from me, from this situation, Derek says
. He doesnt move, because he wants so fucking badly what harm could a handful of
text messages do? But he knows damn well it wouldnt stop there. Stiles is relentl
ess when hes made up his mind, and if Derek lets him blur the edges they might as
well not have had this conversation at all.
He thinks again of Stiles saying you said I wasnt a whore and hardens his resolve
.
No contact, Derek says, his voice suddenly hard.
Not until Stiles knows for himself who he is, without relying on Dereks opinion.
He wont cripple the kid that way.



They find themselves, inevitably, packed and ready to go. Stiles hasnt eaten, and
Derek isnt going to push it. That beautiful mouth is shaped in a slight downturn
, and the sight of it is digging holes in Dereks gut and his resolve.
One phone call a month, he thinks. Surely that wouldnt be so-
Youll find someone else, Stiles chokes out, staring down at the floor. You will.
Never happen, Derek says softly. It took me seven years to find you. He slants a gla
nce over, tries to muster a smile for Stiles. Not everyone is interested in a sur
ly, monosyllabic creature of the night, Stiles.
That gets a slight curl at the corner of his mouth.
And I wont be looking anyway.
But Im supposed to? Look?
Its your decision, Derek says softly. Then he looks down at the floor. I just think
that maybe-
Stiles, of course, notices his sudden indecision. What?
I said that mostly for your benefit.
But?
But I think that maybe it would help me to feel like- he takes a quick breath, Like
youre actually choosing me. Not just. Because I seem. Safe. Or turn you on.
He is staring at Derek in wonder. You think youre some kind of back-up option for
me?
Derek shrugs helplessly.
Stiles steps closer. Sourpuss, he whispers. Kisses Derek once. Sourwolf. You do fee
l safe to me. Because you listened to my shit and told me yours. Because you som
ehow, ridiculously, seem to think Im awesome. Because you let me pay for the icec
ream. Not because I dont have any better options. There are no better options, be
cause I stumbled over my number one choice Friday night. Okay?
He cant speak. He just cups Stiles face in his hands and fits their mouths togethe
r. They switch to that perfect language, the one with no misunderstandings.
Derek tells him it kills me to send you away and Stiles says I know.
I just want you to remember how to feel good about yourself, he tells him silen
tly and Stiles says Ill try.
The third kiss has nothing to say. It's just for them.
They drift apart, finally, and theres no anger or regret, just a deep sorrow hold
ing them both back from taking that last step.
I have to go, Stiles says finally. I want to drop in on Dad before school. Theyre ta
lking about releasing him this week.
Thats good, Derek says. Thats great. He lets his hand ghost over the bag Stiles is hol
ding, the shape of the coffee mug he slipped in without Stiles seeing. Its cheati
ng, but. This is his mate. Hell fight to keep him in every way he can that doesnt
hurt Stiles.
Six months, Stiles says. His hands clutch for one second, You wont forget me.
Ive stolen one of your shirts, Derek tells him. Its the best proof he can offer.
That gets him the ghost of a grin. You gonna keep it under your pillow?
Probably, Derek says, not even trying for dignity.
Okay, Stiles says, and takes a breath. Okay. He hesitates. I have, like a million que
stions about the wolf stuff.
You can ask me later, Derek says. Do not go on the internet.
I promise, Stiles says gravely, and Derek sighs, almost smiling. Stiles is going t
o be reading a lot of perverted porn very soon.
If you need to talk to someone, do not approach my uncle, he says, because thats ba
sically Dereks worst nightmare, but Stiles is already nodding fervently and Derek
relaxes just a little. He hesitates. The local vet.
Dr Deaton?
He knows. What I am.
Dr Deaton?
Derek nods.
Deep breath. Stiles takes another, reluctant step back. Gotta go, he says.
Go protect my good name. Prove to Scott youre not a bloated corpse, Derek says, soa
ks up the quick flash of smile.
He clenches his hands into fists to stop himself grabbing hold, shifts from foot
to foot, and the shape in his pocket reminds him. Oh, hey, he slides his hand int
o his pocket and reaches for Stiles hand, folds those beautiful fingers over the
spare apartment key. This is yours. Come here whenever you need to, he adds, becau
se it eases something in his heart to think of Stiles in this place, remembering
them. Missing Derek. Hes really not as nice a guy as Stiles thinks, because he d
efinitely wants Stiles to miss him and be miserable at least some of the time un
til his birthday rolls around.
And if Derek sneaks back the apartment occasionally to soak up Stiles scent? Well
. Who would begrudge him that harmless indulgence.
Stiles lets out a shuddering breath. Their eyes meet.
Six months, Derek says, and Stiles nods once, biting hard on his lip.
He goes.


Chapter 17: Waiting for Wednesday
Notes:
If you are reading this after the work is already complete, you might enjoy read
ing Part 2 before you read this chapter. It contains scenes from the intervening
six months.
Chapter Text
SIX MONTHS LATER

Derek leans back on the hood of the Camaro and squints into the sunlight. He hes
itates. Will it make him look like a trying-too-hard douchebag? Then shrugs, and
drags out his sunglasses, slips them on. Hes wearing a leather jacket to lurk in
a high school car park, for fucks sake, hes clearly already trying too hard.
He cant even remember the last time he stood in front of his closet and hesitated
over his fashion choices. Somewhere Laura just cracked a rib laughing and isnt s
ure why.
Inside the school theres a mix of sounds, its like thunder in the various corridor
s, and trying to pick out one voice or one heartbeat is an exercise in futility.
He tries anyway, of course.
Stiles stumbles out one of the doors on the far side of the parking lot, talking
a mile a minute like Derek would have absolutely predicted hed be. Theres a kid w
ith a mop of dark hair at his side, talking at roughly the same rate, and hes the
one that catches sight of Derek. He stops abruptly, eyes narrowing, and at that
moment Derek thinks, ah. Scott. And sighs.
Stiles frowns at Scott in confusion, then follows his line of vision. He spots D
erek and promptly trips over his own feet, managing not to fall but knocking Sco
tt off-balance in the process. He keeps his head up, though, eyes locked on Dere
k.
He looks utterly shocked. Derek has a hideously long moment where his stomach lu
rches -its too much, on his actual birthday, like I couldnt wait, talk about press
ure, hes moved on- and then it happens. Stiles straightens. Derek swallows.
The kid smiles.
Actually, Stiles fucking beams, joy and surprise all over his face, all lit up w
ith it and Derek feels himself unwind completely for the first time in six month
s. He pushes off the Camaro and steps to one side, revealing the oversized cupca
ke and candle resting on the hood.
He hears Stiles choked-off laugh from all the way across the parking lot, and th
e corner of his mouth lifts in response.
Okay, Scott mutters to Stiles, resigned, and gives Derek a cool look as they walk
across the parking lot. I see where this is going.
Stiles hesitates for a second, glances at Scott. Listen, I know we were gonna-
Nah, its okay, man, and he hugs Stiles quickly. Happy Birthday. Go have a great time
, he says, then winces as if realizing what he just said and what it implies. Sti
les snorts, but flashes a quick glance toward Derek.
Yeah, he says, I think I will- do that.
See you tomorrow, Scott says. And text me later, he adds, more loudly as Stiles begi
ns to jog across the remaining distance. That one was for Derek, hes pretty sure.
Its gonna be a while before Scott stops associating Dereks face with the phrase m
y bloated corpse.
Hey, Danny, Stiles tosses the greeting over his shoulder even as he skids to a sto
p in front of Derek. Vaguely he notes the other kids muttered holy shit he wasnt k
idding.
Theres something in his voice Derek cant quite parse, doesnt matter because Stiles
is suddenly there, the scent and the warmth and the light of him, and Derek bre
athes in deep.
He doesnt move. Maybe Stiles isnt out at school, even if he is maybe he doesnt want
any PDAs.
Hey, Stiles greets him, eyes flicking down to the cupcake and the unlit candle. He
doesnt mention the lack of flame and Derek feels a long breath ease out that hes
possibly been holding ever since Stiles walked out of his apartment. So. You show
ed up. He manages to sound thrilled and stunned and disbelieving and giddy all at
once.
Did you think I wouldnt?
Stiles takes a deep breath. Well. Yknow, six months is a long time.
Yeah.
Ive probably had time to think of pretty much every variation of what might happen
once my birthday finally came round. Youd ring the doorbell, or youd text, or youd
just leave a gift and wait for me to respond, or youd call late one night or you
just. Wouldnt do anything, he finishes softly, eyes down. Bam, finished.
That last one was never going to happen, Derek says. Ive had thoughts about all the
others. Six months was a long time for me, too, he adds hesitantly.
Now a soft smile is curling the edges of Stiles mouth. Its a nice sight. Yeah, appa
rently. And now hes grinning, biting his lip. His eyes shift to the hood of the Ca
maro again. This all for me? Stiles asks, reaches out to pick up the cupcake.
Its your birthday, Derek says, voice deeper than he intended because Stiles is runn
ing a finger through the fucking frosting and Dereks dick is suddenly hard as gra
nite.
Stiles ducks his head, grinning, and lets his backpack fall to the ground at the
ir feet. The glance he slants up at Derek somehow manages to be shy, even after
all the things theyve done together, and Derek licks his lips.
So... no birthday kiss?
You can have a birthday anything you want, Derek says, low and intent, though I was
nt sure youd want it in the parking lot of your school.
Stiles raises an eyebrow and stands a little straighter. Are you kidding? I just
gained about a thousand popularity points by standing next to you. He reaches out
and snags one finger in the belt loop of Dereks jeans. Distantly he hears a chor
us of oh my gods from a gaggle of girls over by the flagpole.
Dereks lips twitch, and he leans in a little. He should have expected it, but the
n, when has he ever predicted Stiles. Still, the smear of frosting over his lips
is easily taken care of. He sighs against Stiles lips, gets lost in him a littl
e and when Derek lifts his head a long time later the parking lot is half-empty.
So, Stiles says, leaning back with a soft smile, you got a birthday surprise for me
, big bad? Theres a flush high on his cheekbones.
I have plans, Derek says. I thought Id drop you off at the station to see your Dad f
or a while, then take you out to dinner. And dessert.
Which will be slushies at the late-night grocery store in Palmerston. Derek is r
esigned to his slow transformation into a sentimental idiot. The delivery guy pr
obably doesnt even work there anymore. If he does, hes forgotten the two of them.
These are good plans. I like these plans. And after dinner and dessert? he raises
his eyebrows, managing to be both goofy and carnally tempting at the same time.
Derek sighs.
And after that I thought we could go parking and make out. He leans in closer, wat
ching carefully as he says softly, And not have sex.
Stiles blinks at him. This- this is your idea of a birthday treat? Show up here w
ith all this, he waves a hand in Dereks direction, and tell me we will not be havin
g sex? Im legal now, ya know.
I know, Derek says, closing his eyes that they even have to have this conversation
. I do know, believe me. But youre a senior in high school, and I want you to have
that experience while you can. He hesitates. I know- weve done things backwards. A
nd very possibly, he adds with more honesty, were not going to be able to resist fo
r long. But. I feel like-
Stiles eyes are impossibly soft. Trying to make sure I dont feel cheated, big guy?
Want me to feel special and courted, and all that shit? Gonna romance me? Someho
w he makes it sound both affectionate and dirty, its like a superpower and Derek
is going to have serious trouble resisting.
Maybe.
Stiles grins, squeezes Dereks hand and lets go. Well all right then, he says, lets ge
t this birthday started. I promise not to tempt you too much, test all that wolf
y willpower.
Ah, fuck. Derek is done for.
They climb into the Camaro and Derek hesitates for a second, then slides his pho
ne out of his pocket and snaps a quick photo of Stiles as he straightens from th
rowing his backpack onto the back seat. The kid gives the space a long look, lik
e hes taking mental measurements of the best way to fit back there, and Derek swa
llows before he looks down at the screen.
Its not the best photo ever. Stiles hands are clearly in motion when are they not,
Derek thinks wryly and hes mostly in profile so the impact of those amber eyes i
s lost. But he looks relaxed, safe in his own skin, one corner of his mouth curl
ing up in anticipation of the night ahead. The birthday cupcake is balanced on t
he console between them. Derek stares down at the screen for a long moment and w
hen he looks up Stiles is watching him curiously.
Whatcha doing?
Derek breathes deep. Then he taps in a message to Laura on his phone, attaches t
he picture and hits send.
He tilts the screen so Stiles can see.
Im happy.









***




Hes not even out of the parking lot when the phone rings, and somehow, unbelievab
ly, hes too slow to stop it. He should have made dont call youll spoil the mood a p
ermanent injunction.
Hey, Stiles says, phone pressed to his ear and leaning as far away from Derek as h
e can. Is this Laura? His eyes are dancing.
Fucking Laura.