What the Moon Showed Me. Derek/Stiles NC-17 Complete!

[1lostone]

Title: What the Moon Showed Me
Rating: Adult
Words: 6677, 21k for series.
Summary: Two months after their night in the pool, Derek comes back.
A/N:For redhoodiestiles on tumblr.  I requested that she make me a video, and SHE DID.  Beta'd byjlm121 and diva0789, but any mistakes are mine. :)
Warnings: Fills my bites/marking spot on my kink bingo card! Warnings for mention of knotting, PWP, etc.

Or, read on Ao3 .

Sequel to What the Night Showed Me, although since they are both basically PWPs with no redeeming literary value whatsoever, you can read this by itself. Series Complete!

---

The text from Scott didn’t set off any warnings in Stiles’ head, although in retrospect, it probably should have.

                      Meet me @ Groulson @ 11. Bring snacks.

Scott had had Stiles meeting him in a number of bizarre places since Scott had been bitten by Peter Hale, but generally it was at their spot in the woods (which quickly became Scott and Allison’s spot in the woods) or by the overlook.  The Groulson place was an old, run-down shack near the Preserve.  It was the kind of place kids used to dare each other to come up and touch, only to run away like scared rabbits at the sound of a breaking twig.

Okay, so Stiles had only done that once. Three times.

The point was, it was kind of a weird place to be out and about.  

Stiles knew that Scott had been worried about him. Stiles had thought he had done a really good job not moping around like some pathetic kid... which considering he was both pathetic and a kid was pretty well-done of him he thought all things considered, but Scott had a way of knowing when The Stilinski Experience was mostly just The Stilinski Bullshit and had not problems with calling him on it.

Stiles parked the jeep and sighed, looking blindly out of the windshield.

“Stiles.”

Stiles couldn’t look Scott in his the face. He cleared his throat and turned to his dresser, looking for some boxers and something that would make him feel less naked. When he turned back, Scott’s eyes had gone amber.

“No! Whoa, there wolf boy. This defense of my virtue is really sweet and all, but I think you’re operating under a few misconceptions here.” Stiles found himself backing up, almost windmilling his arms as Scott moved so quickly that he seemed to blur, pressing his face so closely to the bite Derek had left on him that Stiles’ eyes bugged out. He was shocked to realize how much he didn’t want Scott to touch it.

“Yeah? Then why did he... You.” Scott pulled back slightly. “You smell like you’ve been crying.”

If Scott hadn’t sound so pissed Stiles probably would have reacted differently.

“Well. Yeah. But...” Stiles reached out to touch Scott’s shoulder. His friend took a step back and the expression face was full of such worried concern that Stiles was talking before he quite knew what he was saying.  “Not what you’re thinking. He didn’t hurt me, Scott. Didn’t do anything ... bad.”

Scott frowned. To his credit he kept the surprise off his face. Possibly Stiles hadn’t been as stealthy as he thought he’d been when realizing that he was completely into Derek. Stiles forced a smile and turned back to his dresser. “Now, unless you too want a piece of this...” He gave a little shimmy, blushing when the towel slipped off his hips.

Scott made a face somewhere between horrified and ready-to-projectile-vomit. “Dude.”

Stiles winced, snorting back a laugh as he clutched the towel.“Yeah that sounded a lot different in my head. Go get some food. Let me get dressed. I’ll be down in a few, okay?”

“Yeah. Okay.” Stiles thought they were done until Scott stopped at the door. Carefully not looking back at Stiles, he cleared his throat a little. It was kind of odd because since he’d been bitten, some of the more human tells had been eradicated. Scott didn’t twitch, or clear his throat… unless he wanted to make a point.

“He’s an idiot, you know that right.”

Stiles couldn’t help the way his heart gave a stupid beat in his chest, like it was agreeing.

“You’re worth ten of him, anyway man.” The back of Scott’s neck turned bright red. “I’m gonna make some hot pockets.” It was about three minutes after the sound of the microwave beeped before Stiles could make himself move.

***

Stiles frowned down at his watch, then scanned the place through his dirty windshield. It looked empty, but it was still only about an hour before the moon rose. Stiles sighed, and texted Scott back.

                       ok asshole. i’m here. hurry up. it’s creepy as fuck.

Stiles grabbed his backpack, checking again at the few bottles of water and chips that he’d brought. It wasn’t much, but it would do. He hardly thought that Scott would need him here all that long. Stiles heard his feet crunching on the forest floor as he walked, and he had that crazy-moment of surreal awesomeness when the seventeen-year old him looked back on the twelve-year old him in a ‘haha who’s the chicken now’ kind of way, then he was peeking through the dark windows, trying to use his flashlight ap to give himself some light.

It wasn’t overly successful.

Stiles froze when he heard the crack of a twig, loud as a gunshot on the cold, dark night.

“H-h-hello?”

There was no answer. Of course there was no answer.

Stiles thought he heard a step behind him and flinched, whipping his phone down and whirling, but he caught his red hoodie on the corner off one of the windows and it tugged him off balance, so that when the hit against the back of his head came it caused him fall forward with a grunt of pain.

Stiles thought he saw stars for a minute.  He literally thought his eyeballs shook around in his head, before he realized that someone had caught him, holding his head to a broad chest.

“Mmmmmrrrrrph!!!”

His arms were jerked behind his back, then a hood went over his head, and Stiles froze as he realized what was happening.

His captors were strangely silent as they dragged him to the car. Stiles tried to fight, screaming, trying to bite the hand that pressed over his mouth to stifle the muffled yet furious sounds he was making.  His captor’s large hand slipped as Stiles struggled, sliding over his nose and Stiles’ eyes bugged out under the hood. He stopped struggling, but the hand didn’t move for a second.

Funny how long a second can seem when you’re terrified out of your mind.  Stiles felt the cold, black thickness of a panic attack building in his chest and tried not to pass out as claustrophobia warred with his inability to draw a deep breath. It wasn’t much of a fight.

The only sound he heard was low, like being it was being shouted through a long tunnel. The muffled, almost panicked “Shit!” was the last thing Stiles heard before he felt the world tilt as he slid into blackness.

***

Stiles woke up when he heard the doors clang open. He realized three things very quickly. The first was he was slumped over uncomfortably on a wooden floor. The second was that there was a low, deep growl rushing towards him, getting louder and snarlier the closer it got.  It made his balls draw up high in his gut. The third was that some kind soul was taking the stifling hood off of his face. He could breathe. Stiles sucked in three huge gulps of air, trying to listen to what was happening over the thunderous beating of his heart.

---full  Moon, Scott!”

Stiles knew the dulcet sound of that roar of rage anywhere.

“Derek?” Stiles’ whisper caused all the yelling to stop. Hot hands were on his shoulders, gently helping him to sit up. Stiles blinked. There was low light coming from the corner of the room. Stiles blinked rapidly, trying to see. It looked like a hurricane lamp. It wasn’t very big, but it gave Stiles enough light to see. They looked to be in a… well. Jail cell was the closest comparison that Stiles’ foggy mind could come up with. He blinked, winced, moving his hand to his head.

The sound Derek made had Stiles looking around for who was about to be eviscerated. It was really confusing, because the only people he saw were Scott, Allison, and surprisingly... Lydia. “Why don’t you guys let us out?” Stiles’ voice was rusty and he swallowed hard, blinking as he rearranged his sore body so that he was sitting on the floor, pointedly moving so that he wasn’t leaning against Derek anymore.

“Er..” Scott actually took a step back from the bars, shoving his hands in his pockets and looking pointedly at everywhere but at Derek or Stiles.

“Yeah, Scott.” Derek’s voice vibrated with fury. “Why don’t you let us out?”

“Er...” Scott looked, panicked at Allison, who rolled her eyes at Lydia. Lydia, who to Stiles’ knowledge, had only seen Derek a handful of times in that way that you did in a small town, tossed her hair and threw a small brown bag on the floor through the bars and next to the mattresses near the lamp in the corner of the room.

“Okay, Stiles. Get with the program. Your bff decided that you and your... ridiculously attractive boyfriend needed some alone time, so they found some space here at Chez Argent. A little moonlight, some candles, a little vino and you’re good to go.”

“What?” Stiles knew his voice was a squeak; doing that Minnie Mouse possession thing that he’d rocked the last time he and .. no. No, fuck no nooooo nono not thinking of that, thanks. “Scott!” The squeak turned to a whine as he realized why Scott was acting so weird.

Scott rubbed his hand over the back of his neck. “Look, you two need to talk. Or.. uh. stuff. Whatever, you’ve both been really unpleasant to be around lately. Derek has this whole serial killer thing going on, and you’ve been like… well. Quiet. It’s so not cool. So, now you’re stuck.”

Derek’s growl sent goose bumps spreading out over Stiles’ arms.

When Scott next spoke it was a tad rushed. “I uh. I have to go. Alli’s gonna lock me up, and Lydia will let you out in the morning.”

Allison smiled sweetly. Funny. Stiles had never realized that she was actually Satan before. He tried to control his heart rate, knowing that both Scott and Derek would pick up on it. “Here’s the thing. The bars have a mix of wolvesbane and silver in them... so unfortunately, Scott really can’t help you.”  Allison’s smile stretched wide over her full lips.

Lydia looked a little nervous as she darted her gaze to Derek still in his protective crouch up to Stiles. “Um. He... can... control himself, right? Stiles won’t get like, maimed or dead or anything?”

Because clearly kidnapping was okay but she had to draw the line somewhere.

“Don’t be ridiculous. Derek wouldn’t ever hurt me. He’s been controlling his wolf longer than...” Stiles broke up, horrifyingly aware that he had sounded oddly proud of this.

“... riiiight. Okay then! I’ll see you gentlemen tomorrow!” She smiled brightly and linked her arm with Allison’s as they made their way up the stairs, Scott slinking behind them, pointedly not looking back at either Stiles or Derek.

“Fuck me. I need better friends,” Stiles muttered. He watched them leave, pushing up to look around the small cell. Dizziness caught him for a minute and he flailed a bit, trying to get his hands out to brace himself before he fell over. Between one heartbeat and another, Derek was just there.

Derek’s hands felt huge as he cradled the back of Stiles’ head, tilting it a few different ways and looking for injury.  Stiles swallowed hard, trying to tell himself not to be an idiot.

“I’m okay.”

“I can’t fucking believe he hit you.” Derek didn’t sound calm. Startled, Stiles darted his gaze up to Derek’s to see that his eyes had gone red. A faint tremble kept Derek’s grip unsteady, and Stiles couldn’t help wondering just how close Derek was to changing. Moonrise had been roughly an hour from when he’d pulled up outside the old Groulson place, but God knew what time it was now.

“He... Uh. When we were ten he had the best plan to see if we could really fly. I think that’s why his mom is a nurse, to tell the truth. She’s just like super proactive. Scott is ... not what I would call the best at planning things out. Things are great in his head.” Stiles touched the small bump on the back of his skull. “Not so hot in execution.”

“Why is it that you are always hurt because of me?”

Stiles licked his lips, trying to ignore the giant awkward elephant in the room. And the werewolf, but he was pretty sure that wasn’t going to be overly successful. He pushed himself out of Derek’s arms and got to his feet. “So... this won’t be too bad, right? We just have to wait this out, right? The mattress doesn’t look like anyone died on it.” Stiles bent down to scoop up the bag Lydia had thrown. “And there’s water and like, snacks and stuff. The candles are a lovely touch, and it’s oh my God.”  Stiles shut the brown paper bag, pressing it to his chest and turning about seven different shades of red.

“What,” Derek snapped.

Stiles hid the bag behind his back, taking a step back. “Um! It isn’t anything. Which is to say that it is nothing. At all! Nothing humiliating or anything here. Ha! Haha!”

He was going to fucking kill Scott.

“What.” Derek’s low growl reminded Stiles again of the other not-so incidental issue of being locked in a small cage with a werewolf on the full moon. “Is. In the. Bag.” Derek stated moving towards Stiles in a way that made his tongue swell up in his mouth. Stiles jerked his gaze away from the play of  almost animal-like muscles and strength as Derek crawled closer.

“Er..  some... vitamins.” Stiles coughed. “So. How long until the moon is.” Stiles waved his hand around.  “You know. Out.”

Derek stalked forward towards him again and Stiles felt his body take a rather large step back. Some tiny part of his brain was shrieking at him to not do anything that reeked of prey, but it was really easy to ignore that part when the werewolf was crawling on all fours across a floor towards him; heat and sex and barely-contained violence in every sinuous twist of muscle.

“I can control my wolf, Stiles.”

“I know! So... it’s like really late and I’m just going to go ahead and lay down then.” Maybe if he just went to sleep the rest of the night would pass by without Stiles doing anything embarrassing and/or regrettable. The thing was… Stiles knew that Scott was just trying to help. Like a really endearing (and Stiles smirked a little even to himself at the comparison) puppy. In the two weeks that he and Derek had been… whatever they were, Scott had done everything he could think of to get him and Derek together, convinced that if they were to just to talk… everything would work out fine. Allison. Stiles blamed Allison and her stupid calming, sensible influence. Just because Scott was in love, didn’t mean that everyone else he knew was.

Stiles thought he had done a pretty good job of acting like everything was normal all things considered.

“Let me see your head.”

Stiles rolled his eyes. “I’m fine, Derek.”

“You were dizzy. You could have a concussion.”

“Oh my God, would you just stop? I’m not that fragile!”

Stiles had been so lost in thought that he hadn’t realized that Derek was right there beside him until Derek’s hands shot out to grasp his biceps, the weight of his big hands making Stiles’ breath catch in his chest. He tried not to shiver as Derek worked his fingers through the short hair on Stiles’ head, searching for anything other than the one small bump on the back of his head. Stiles allowed it, trying not to be overwhelmed at having Derek so close to him after what had felt like forever. Derek’s fingers found the small bruise on the side of his cheekbone from when Scott had accidentally dropped him at the Groulson place, found the scrape on his shoulder from yesterday’s Lacrosse practice—fucking Jackson--, before moving his fingers back up, sliding over Stiles’ collarbone, his neck, and back up the back of Stiles’ head.

Stubbornly, Stiles refused to look up at him even as Derek gently eased his head back. Stiles sucked at lying to Derek. He always, always got caught. He knew that he couldn’t keep the … whatever… he was feeling under wraps if he looked up into Derek’s eyes from a kissable distance.

In a dimly-lit room.

Alone.

Seriously. Fuck his life.

Stiles was so busy freaking out over his internal monologue that he didn’t notice when Derek snatched the bag out of his hands until he heard the crinkle of the brown paper.  Even with the low light of the room Stiles could see the faint blush that stained Derek’s cheekbones when he looked in the bag, guilty gaze darting up to meet Stiles’.

“They… uh. Were very … accommodating… in their select… Stiles.” Derek dropped the bag onto the floor, crowding against Stiles until Stiles’ back was flush against the concrete wall across from the bars of the cell. When Derek spoke again the slight tint of embarrassment had bled from his voice, to be replaced by something much darker. Something that made Stiles’ body tighten; made his breath catch. “You smell… sad.”

Something flashed over Derek’s face so quickly that Stiles couldn’t quite realize what he saw. Stiles screwed his eyes shut, trying not to feel anything. Trying not to notice how Derek’s heat had ramped up, how he could feel every single one of Derek’s muscles when he pressed against his body.

It had just been a fleeting thought: that it had been unfair of his body to think Derek was actually concerned over his injuries, when he so obviously had just wanted the excuse to snatch the bag out of Stiles’ hand. Stiles just shook his head and forced a smile. “Nothing. So… yeah. Sorry about that. Scott is… not exactly subtle. With the lube. Or the condoms.”

Derek bent his neck, running his cheek lightly over Stiles’ face, moving so his lips nestled behind the soft skin behind his ear.

Stop. He couldn’t do this. He couldn’t let this happen again. Scott might think he was doing some big gesture, giving Stiles a chance to tell Derek that he loved him or whatever, but real life didn’t work like this. And okay real life might not factor in werewolves and the crazy shit that was his life but it sure as hell didn’t magically make someone like Derek fucking Hale want to be with some stupid kid like—

Derek’s mouth was on his, pressing against Stiles’ chapped lips, and it was only then that Stiles realized that Derek had kissed him to stop the flow of words; that he’d said all of that out loud. Stiles felt his face seize into a horrified grimace as he pulled away from the slightly too-slick feeling of Derek’s mouth, the tiny tickle of panic bright in his chest. Derek’s lips followed his, kissing Stiles until he was breathless. Stiles dimly realized that Derek was... not quite growling. The sound was a higher-pitched. Derek kept whining low in his chest as he kissed Stiles. Finally though, Stiles pulled off of Derek’s mouth with a gasp, sucking breath into his starved lungs. Derek scraped his teeth over the line of Stiles’ jaw, down over his neck, pressing just hard enough that Stiles jerked away in starlement, then back into it with a strangled moan that seemed too loud in the quiet cell. Derek’s hands continued sliding down Stiles’ shoulders, over his arms, over his chest, not stopping, like he couldn’t stand not touching.

Stiles realized that Derek was muttering “No. No, that’s not. Stiles no” before pressing back to Stiles mouth with deep, drugging kisses that made it hard for Stiles to concentrate, made it hard for Stiles to remember why he was trying to get away in the first place. Derek’s kiss almost seemed desperate as he pressed Stiles into the wall, his hands stalling on Stiles’ narrow hips. Derek pressed into Stiles until he was so overwhelmed by the scent and taste and heat of Derek that he was rocking his hips helplessly into his, pushing to get closer.

Still, it took him awhile to break away to breathe again, pushing at Derek’s shoulders with his hands. Derek’s face was in shadow, but he heard the shuddering breath. The whining had stopped as Derek brought his hands up to cup Stiles’ cheeks.  Stiles couldn’t help the way he flinched away from Derek’s hands; although Derek looked like Stiles had slapped him when he did. This was almost too much. Too strange, too intimate. Derek was holding him like you did something precious, like you couldn’t bear to let it go.

Stiles ran his tongue over his swollen lips, chasing the taste of Derek with his tongue. Derek groaned and bent as though he was going to kiss him again, but Stiles found the strength to push at Derek’s shoulders. He needed to… take a second. To breathe.

Derek made a frustrated sound and sucked in a deep breath.

Stiles stared at him, blinking. He swallowed hard. From this angle he could see the thrum of Derek’s pulse under the thin skin of his neck. “You don’t.” Stiles stopped. Winced. “You don’t have.” Fucking Christ He couldn’t even get his words out.

“Stiles. I. I..” Derek trailed off with a low growl, pushing his face into Stiles’ neck. “Please. Please.”

Stiles couldn’t stop the small sound he made when Derek rutted against his hip, nor the shiver when Derek’s hands dug into his hipbones, let go. Pressed in again with a low sound. All at once, it occurred to Stiles that Derek wasn’t acting like someone who was only there to get off.  Derek was almost frantic, like he didn’t know quite what to do.

Like he didn’t know how to act.

“Please what?”  Stiles tried his voice. It sounded just as wrecked as he felt.

Derek made the same frustrated sound again and Stiles couldn’t help the way he leaned forward to bite Derek’s lip. Derek let him, which yeah, okay that was completely fucking working for him. Stiles did the same thing Derek had done, touching his shoulders and his arms, leaning forward and up a little so that he could nuzzle behind Derek’s ear.

And Derek let him.

Stiles could hear the faint rasp of his stubble against Derek’s over the pounding of his heart and it made him shiver. Stiles turned his neck to kiss the side of Derek’s neck. To his complete and utter astonishment, Derek tipped his head back, far enough that his longish hair brushed back between his shoulder blades.

Even Stiles knew what it meant when a wolf bared their throat.

His eyes widened and he had to suck in another wrecked breath. It sounded as shaky as he felt. Fuck. Fuck. Did that mean…? Was Derek…?  Stiles pressed a chaste, shaky kiss in the very center of Derek’s throat, and Derek slumped against him like a puppet whose strings had been cut.

Stiles looked over his shoulder, staring blindly at the cell bars. They were quiet for a second, both of their hearts beating in synch.

“You’re hot.”

Derek snorted, and Stiles wondered briefly if someone could actually kill themselves from floods of embarrassment.

“I mean that you’re skin is hot. You feel like you have a fever. Does it hurt not to change?” Stiles paused, knowing that Derek would hear the truth of his words. “Because I meant it, you know. I know you won’t hurt me... if you have to like… shift or something.”

Derek shook his head. “You’re unbelievable.”

Stiles only had a second for the hurt to squirm in his insides before Derek pressed against him again. Stiles’ moan turned into a squeak when Derek just lifted him, pushing Stiles up the wall until his shirt was rucked up to his shoulders, his back pressed against the cold, concrete surface.

Derek just held him there with one hand against his sternum, ignoring the way that Stiles stared down at him with wide eyes. The pressure of Derek’s hand hurt a little, but only long enough for him to kick off his shoes, for Derek to yank down his jeans, his boxers coming with them. Stiles’ “Oh, fuck” was lost in his shirts as he scrambled to yank them off, his arms seeming too long and awkward in the cotton and flannel. Derek’s grip shifted until one hand cupped Stiles’ ass, the other still pressed against his chest.

Stiles kind of thought that he should probably be complaining at the manhandling or something, but since his body was lit up like a fucking lightning storm at night he was willing enough to go with it.  Well okay. Grateful. Whatever.

His cock felt harder than it had ever been in his life, precome leaking from the head, wet and sticky on his stomach. Stiles heard a cut-off oh oh oh and belatedly realized that that broken, throaty sound was coming from his deep in his chest. Stiles’ cock bumped against Derek’s cheek, leaving a wet trail on his cheek before Derek opened his mouth and sucked him inside.

“Derek…” His moan was low, but Derek seemed to like hearing it from the way he sucked Stiles down to the root. Stiles could feel the head of his cock in Derek’s throat and Stiles was afraid that his eyes had rolled back in his head. He shouted, his fingernails scrabbling against the concrete wall. Stiles couldn’t keep his hips still, jabbing short, little thrusts as Derek swallowed around him, moving off his cock and back down like he couldn’t get enough of Stiles’ taste. Stiles reached down with a shaking hand to trace the stretched lips and Derek did something illegal with his tongue so that Stiles could see the shape of his cock making the skin of Derek’s cheek bulge out. Just the sight of it made his body shudder.

Derek’s fingers were tight on his ass. When Derek yanked Stiles off of the wall, Stiles folded over him like a wet noodle, moaning desperately, trying to keep from coming. It felt too good. When Derek tightened his grip on Stiles’ ass, yanking him just that tiny bit further into Derek’s throat Stiles felt it from the back of his gut, feeling like it came from his spine as he came down hard Derek’s throat. Derek still sucked at him until Stiles was shivering, scrambling at Derek’s hair to get away.

Belatedly, Stiles realized that he could feel the sheets against his sweaty back. Sometime between sucking him down and Stiles coming his brains out, Derek had pressed Stiles onto the mattress. He had to roll his eyes when he realized that Scott had put satiny sheets on the bed.

Fucking Scott.

Stiles blinked down at Derek’s head when he felt the slick finger inside of his ass and stretched, letting his legs sprawl out, drawing them up and smirking at the low growl. Derek pressed his face against Stiles’ thigh and the smirk widened as Stiles shifted his weight up on his hands, so he could look down at the top of Derek’s head.

Granted, they had only been together twice, but this was as close to out of control as Stiles had ever seen him. Derek’s pressed another finger into him and Stiles moaned, knowing that he couldn’t get hard but loving the stretch of Derek opening him up anyway.  “Okay so I’m having kind of a weird moment here. You know that Scott literally left us four oh. ohFuck Derek yeah like that-- different types of lube, right?”

Derek bit at his thigh, sucking a hickey into the skin there. Stiles shuddered again, canting his hips towards Derek’s fingers. He collapsed back on the mattress when Derek moved to lick at the stretched rim, making these rough, urgent sounds that made Stiles lick at his lips as he tried to suck in some kind of oxygen.

His body was covered in sweat, and Derek kept breaking off from licking into him to nip at his thighs, to nuzzle his face over Stiles’ balls, lick at his softened cock, to bite at the crease of skin where Stiles’ groin met his thigh. Derek used more lube, twisted in three fingers and Stiles couldn’t help the way he braced his heels against the mattress, arching into Derek’s touch when he pressed against his prostate.

“Come on, come the fuck on” Stiles’ moaned... “I want you in me please ohhhh, nnnnggghhh there. There, theretherethere.”

From this angle, Stiles could see Derek’s eyes as he looked up the line of Stiles’ body. The red eyes of the Alpha glinted in the low light from the hurricane lamp and Stiles sucked his lower lip into his mouth, biting down. His cock twitched each time that Derek thrust into him, the bumpdrag of his fingers making him jerk each time.

“No.” His voice thicker than when he was in his human form and Stiles found that he couldn’t make himself look away. “I want to knot you, Stiles. I want you stretched on my dick until you can’t decide if you’re gonna cry or come, tied to me so you can’t get away.” Derek pushed and Stiles’ mouth opened at the press of Derek’s pinkie finger when it slid against his rim, the burn as it stretched him even wider. Even as close as Derek was, he was still gentle enough that nothing hurt. Derek bent back down to lick at him again and Stiles remembered to push a little and Derek moaned approvingly when he tried thrusting the four bunched fingers inside, then out, pushing them back in with a flip of his wrist.

Stiles reached down with his hands, having collapsed back on the mattress two fingers ago, his fingers starfishing as he jerked and cried out. His eyes were open but Stiles couldn’t see anything, every bit of his attention focused on Derek’s fingers and how they felt inside of him.

Derek lunged at him, clumsily kissing Stiles’ mouth, his arms trembling as he bent over Stiles’ shaking body. Stiles lurched back, pressing as much of his sweaty skin against Derek’s. His fingers brushed against Derek’s wet cock, then he tightened his hold, pulling Derek to him with his own desperate whine.  It was Derek’s turn to shudder, and he pressed his forehead against Stiles’ before kissing him again, licking into his mouth like he couldn’t help himself.

Derek’s cock bumped against his hole and Stiles sucked in his air, only to lose it again when Derek pushed at him, sliding inside his ass with a bump of the head against his rim.  The stretching and lube made everything less painful than he remembered, and this position made Stiles unable to look away from Derek’s hot gaze. His own cock jumped and thickened with each drag of Derek’s sweaty stomach against it.

Stiles tried cupping Derek’s cheeks, stretching his neck out so that he could bite at Derek’s throat again. Stiles bit hard, stopping just short of breaking skin. Derek made a strangled sound and thrust deeply inside, causing Stiles’ body to arch back at him. Stiles grinned against the skin of Derek’s throat and Derek continued to thrust inside of him like he was making room. Stiles could feel the way his stretched muscle seemed to flutter as Derek moved so that the head of his cock left Stiles’ heat completely before pushing back in.

Stiles tried to get a hand between them to fist at his own dick but Derek  moved again, picking Stiles up and moving so that his back was against the wall, Stiles a shivering and twitching mess on Derek’s lap. Stiles wrapped his arms around Derek’s broad shoulders, concentrating on how deep Derek was inside of him. “Y’gonna do it?” Stiles mumbled, pressing as close as he could get. Rather than push him away, which some tiny part of him still expected Derek to do, Derek swallowed hard, biting at Stiles lips now, jerking Stiles’ hips until he was fucking him down onto Derek’s cock. “I jerked off to it you know. You came so fucking hard.” Stiles licked at sweat on Derek’s neck. “C’mon. It’s okay. I want it.”

Derek froze under him, and Stiles shuddered at the feel of the thick knot of skin expanding. Derek pushed at his hips again and even with all the stretching, the feel of Derek’s knot pressing against sensitive skin, then pushing inside caused Stiles to wince at the bright flash of pain.

Derek looked horrified. Stiles felt him tense and he wrapped his legs around Derek’s hips, tightening them as tightly as he could. Derek cried out-- his vocal cords vibrating into a roar, jerking his hands off of Stiles as his claws ripped deep holes in the mattress, like he needed the extra release of his wolf coming when he did.  For a heartbeat, two, Stiles didn’t move. With shaking hands Stiles slid his cupped palms down Derek’s arms, carefully resting his hands on top of Derek’s. He shivered at the strength there, pressed his own hands onto Derek’s, twining their fingers together.  

“Fuck. Stiles!”

Derek shuddered again, pulling back his wolf from where it teetered on the edge of shifting, wrapping his arms around Stiles as his cock jerked inside of him.  Stiles knew his heartbeat was a little faster than normal, but hey. Freaky werewolf junk. He didn’t think Derek would call him on it.

Stiles felt his eyes widen as he felt all of that come inside of him. Derek was almost petting him now, still coming with little growling open-mouthed pants wet against Stiles’ shoulder, his neck, his forehead. Stiles tentatively tightened his ass and stared down in surprise when his cock as it jumped and drooled precome between them.

“Huh.” He frowned down at his dick like he hadn’t ever seen it before. Who knew?

Derek actually snorted. “God, I fucking love you.”

It was Stiles’ turn to freeze. He thought his heart actually stopped as he jerked his gaze up to Derek’s amused one. “You. Me. You. What?”

Derek’s eyebrow cocked as Stiles verbally flailed. “I.” He leaned forward. “Love.” Kissed Stiles’ slack mouth. “You.” Moved his hands, now fully human over Stiles’ back, sliding down over the bumps of his spine. “Idiot,” he added with a nip at Stiles’ bottom lip.

“Uh. I thought. I…”

Derek shifted again, making himself comfortable, stretching out his legs and settling Stiles’ weight a little more comfortably. Stiles blinked, biting his lip. The grin on his face was probably a miracle of physics. It felt two sizes bigger than his face.  

“Yeah.” His fingernails scratched lightly against Stiles’ back, shivering. “I finally figured out what you thought. How someone so smart can be so stupid…”

“Hey!”

Derek just laughed, cupped the back of Stiles’ head and kissed him lazily. Stiles was willing enough to be distracted, not sure exactly how to deal with the way his chest felt like it couldn’t hold his happiness. Derek made out with him for awhile until Stiles felt like his lips were swollen, so sensitive that each press of Derek’s against his seemed to go directly to his cock. Derek had moved so that he held Stiles’ hands behind his back with one of his hands, hanging on to the back of Stiles’ head with the other, making out with him like he had all the time in the world.

Stiles only realized that he was rocking down on Derek’s cock when Derek pushed him back onto the ruined mattress, pushing Stiles arms so that they were stretched up over his head.  Derek slipped out of him with a slight press against the rim of Stiles’ hole and he cried out at the loss. Stiles’ mouth tingled. He couldn’t seem to stop the way he’d push his tongue against them, shivering at the sensation.

Stiles only had a second to wonder what the hell Derek was doing when he caught his wicked grin. Derek bent and he felt the heat of his tongue lapping at him, pressing against his stretched, fucked out hole.

“Oh my... what?”  Stiles squeaked, unsure if he wanted to jerk away from Derek’s mouth or wrap his legs around his head and fuck his tongue. He could feel the puff of Derek’s laugh, felt the way Derek’s tongue traced the thick streaks of come as they leaked out of him and heard himself crying out as though from far away. “Derek.. oh fuck. Fucking fuck. Derek. Derek.”

Derek lipped up over Stiles’ balls, licking at the underside of his cock until he could slip his mouth back over the head. Stiles thrust up, into that heat again seeing stars behind his closed eyelids. He felt Derek’s fingers inside of him, sloppy with come and lube as he stroked the inside walls, pulling out to play with the rim again and again until Stiles was begging, his voice cracking. Derek shoved three fingers inside him and that was it- he was coming hard, shivering and cursing and shouting his way through it.

When Stiles blinked back to consciousness, Derek was curled up and around him, watching him sleep. Stiles’ eyes felt heavy as he smiled, watching Derek’s face soften in response. “So… yeah. You’re going to have to remind me to send a note to old Mr. Jenkins.”

“Who?”

“The old dude who paid me to pool sit.”

“Oh.” Derek nuzzled against Stiles’ chin, seemingly unconcerned.

Stiles tried again. He didn’t know why he felt so nervous all of the sudden, but he was. The tip of his tongue swiped at dry lips and he whispered it, his voice still a little rough from before. “I love you too, Derek.”

“Mm. I know.”

Stiles’ mouth dropped open and he whacked the back of Derek’s head. Derek made an amused, contented sound. “You’re a dick.”

“Hmm.” Derek stretched. “Do you want to get out of here?”

Stiles’ brow wrinkled as he stared at him. “Uh. What? What about the silver and the wolvesbane and all that? Allison said that…”

Derek raised his head, looking a tiny, wee bit sheepish. “Er. Well, I… had her make all that up. The cage isn’t even locked.”

It wasn’t very often that Stiles found himself at a complete loss for words. His mind worked frantically even as the blush from earlier creeped back up over Derek’s cheeks. 

“I… you wouldn’t talk to me. I didn’t want to leave your room. Jesus, it killed me to go. But your dad was due home soon, and. You looked so…” Derek ducked his head, brushing his lips against Stiles’ shoulder. “So when I asked Scott to do me a favor, he almost went for my throat. Until I explained. Um. So…”

Stiles mouth worked, gaping like a fish.

“This was all your idea?”

Derek’s brows narrowed. He looked livid for a second. “You weren’t supposed to get hurt. But, you’re surprisingly good at avoiding conversations that you don’t want any part of.”

“Oh.”

Derek practically radiated waves of nervousness as he met Stiles wide-eyed gaze.  

“Well. That was… surprisingly well-played.” Derek deflated like a balloon whose air had left all at once, curling back into Stiles’ body and yanking the blanket over them. Derek smirked. Waited another beat. 

“I know.”

***

Ur in so much trouble. Fucker.

 

Me?! What did I do? Derek’s idea, man. Sorry about yr head btw.

 

My revenge will be sweet. You won’t know when.

You won’t know where. But I know a lot about you.

Two words, buddy. Two words.  Allison.  Argent.

 

Yeah right.

 Wait.

Stiles?

Oh come on!!!

Dude!!!!

THE END!

Thanks very much for reading. I hope that you enjoyed!

Comments

[eleni81.livejournal.com]

gahhhh!!!! this, THIS was the perfect ending for your series *nods*
so hot and kinda sweet :D

I know you said this is complete but I sooo wanna see Stiles revenge on Scott *pooookes u* pleeeeease!!!