confessing
request: She is the sister of Uhtred and she’s a total badass in combat. Maybe that Uhtred sees how Osferth looks at her and when he says something about that he gets all flustered.
pairing : osferth x reader
@unleashthelion im so sorry its been so long 😭 u might not even be into tlk etc anymore but take this anyway
You were only a baby when Bebbanburg was usurped by your uncle Aelfric upon the death of his brother and its heir, Uhtred, captured by the Danes. As a result, you grew up in the fortress never knowing your brother, only anecdotes from Aelfric and your mother Glenna - the former dismissive, the latter loving and wistful.
Glenna was your one saving grace during your time at Bebbanburg. Having been married to Earl Uhtred after his second wife passed away following Uhtred’s birth, she became his stepmother and loved him as her own. She spoke often of the days following your own birth with fondness in her eyes, describing how Uhtred was a permanent presence by your side - how he had loved his little sister more than anything.
It was Glenna that inspired your desire to meet Uhtred again, but for years you never got the chance.
For your safety, she never once voiced her anger and disapproval over Aelfric’s usurpation until you were together in private. He was never fond of you to begin with, and you learned early on that had you been born a boy, you would not have been allowed to live for very long.
She was the only true protection you had, and when she sadly succumbed to illness you knew, even at the age of eleven, that until you found Uhtred you were totally alone.
The year following Glenna’s death, you accompanied Aelfric, his priest Aidan, and his army of 200 men to Eoferwic, to meet with King Guthred and march on Dunholm. The infamous brothers Sigefrid and Erik were also there, but that hardly registered. After being told rather gleefully by Aelfric that Uhtred was dead, you were in little mood to do anything except passively go along with everything… until the Northmen inexplicably revealed that your brother was still alive.
You successfully hid your joy while Aelfric raged and planned to leave upon the advice of Gisela, Guthred’s sister. With little love or need for you to begin with, your uncle left you in Gisela’s care, perhaps hoping that some misfortune would befall you and rid him of his unwanted niece.
Recognising your neglect at Aelfric’s hands, Gisela led you from the meeting and promised to keep you safe. The two of you escaped Eoferwic together and found sanctuary in a nunnery, where you spent the next three years in relative peace. Understanding your desperation for any information about your brother, she revealed her knowledge of him and described everything - how he had grown up and found a family alongside Danes, his appearance, his personality, his love for her, and the words he spoke of his beloved sisters: blood and adopted alike.
When the nuns could protect you no longer and your uncle’s priests arrived to forcefully marry Gisela to him, you feared losing the only constant you had found in your life - until you were joined by four more people.
At once, your eyes locked on the man that angrily strode forward. Though he had grown tall and his hair now long like a Dane’s, you knew that this was your brother.
Too stunned to speak, you could only watch as Uhtred ordered the abbot to release Gisela’s hand. Although he did, he refused to stop repeating the fact that she was married to Aelfric despite Uhtred persistently telling him to stop - which resulted in him killing the man, and it surprised you less than you thought it would. Glenna had always told you what an impulsive boy he had been, after all.
After reuniting with the man she loved, Gisela beckoned you over, and it was only then that your presence was even recognised.
“Who is she?” asked Uhtred as you stood before him.
“Your sister,” Gisela replied, beaming at you. “Y/N.”
“Hello,” you mumbled shyly, unsure of what else to say.
Uhtred stared at you for a moment, his eyes wide. “You are certain?”
“Your uncle left her in my care three years ago, just after you were taken.”
You could see the tears swimming in your brother’s eyes before he swept you up in an almost bone-crushing hug.
“I missed you, ástin mín,” he whispered. “I wish I had been there to see you grow.”
You were crying too, but your tears were those of joy. “Mother told me all about you. All I wanted was to find you, but I never thought I could.”
“You are here now,” he said, “and I promise I will never lose you again.”
~~
Uhtred was a man that kept his word. He brought you to live with him and Gisela in Coccham, where you stayed as a family. You had always hated feeling so powerless, and so you requested your brother to train you as a warrior - you had only been foolish enough to ask this of Aelfric once, but you knew Uhtred was nothing like him.
He agreed at once, jumping at the chance to bond with you at the same time as improving your ability with a sword.
Under the tutelage of your brother and his friends, you quickly grew into an adept fighter. As the years passed, you became a worthy opponent in sparring matches, your skill nearly as refined as those who had taught you.
Despite the upward turn your life had taken, there were things you still wanted. As much as you loved Uhtred and his friends, you needed someone your own age - a companion you could spend your downtime with.
Just as you were on the cusp of becoming a woman, your wish appeared to be granted when Osferth entered your brother’s service. Although Uhtred was sceptical of his potential, you couldn’t care less - Osferth was the same age as you and would surely improve with time, just as you had.
His gentle manner and soft-spoken words were such a vast difference from the brusqueness you were used to that you instantly took a liking to him. He was always careful to address you as ‘Lady’ until you insisted he used your name instead - which was a slow change, given that he would often accidentally revert back to the term of respect. As much as you jokingly scolded him for it, you never truly minded - he was so sweet that you could never be annoyed with him for long.
You trained alongside Osferth and saw him through Beamfleot, the first taste of battle either of you had ever had. It was equal parts terrifying and exhilarating, and it brought the two of you closer than ever.
Although battle, maturity, and time spent with Uhtred’s friends had greatly improved Osferth’s confidence, there was only one prospect that rendered him as nervous and shy as the day he had first asked to join Uhtred.
You.
Although the two of you were close friends, he had long wanted something more. His heart had yearned for you since the day he first laid eyes on you, and every day after that. He loved everything about you - your laughter, how you fought, the way your hand slotted perfectly in his, the cheeky grin that often graced your features… he could go on.
He wished you knew the truth, but he could never bring himself to admit it and risk ruining the friendship you had.
One afternoon, you were sparring with Sihtric while Osferth sat close by with Uhtred.
He watched you parry a blow with a deftness that made it look ridiculously easy, and smiled fondly. You were incredible in combat, and he both adored and envied you for it.
His gaze was solely on you which, unfortunately for him, was soon noticed by your brother.
“Enjoying the view?” Uhtred teased, nudging him a little.
Flushing, Osferth quickly averted his eyes. “I don’t know what you mean, Lord,” he mumbled.
“You have all the subtlety of a nun in a brothel, Osferth.”
“Lord!”
Uhtred snorted. “Well, your affection for my sister has hardly gone unnoticed.”
Osferth’s head shot up at once. “She knows?”
“I meant amongst the men. As far as I know, Y/N has no idea.”
“Oh.”
An amused Uhtred watched his shoulders visibly sag. “I’ve never seen someone look so disappointed and relieved all at once.”
“I don’t know what to do,” Osferth sighed, his gaze returning to the sparring match before him. You had just managed to knock Sihtric to the ground, laughing as you helped him back up.
“You could try talking to her,” Uhtred suggested, a wicked gleam in his eye.
Osferth looked at him sideways. “I am not you, Lord.”
Your brother hummed. “No, you are not.”
When he said nothing more, Osferth rolled his eyes. “Well, I’m going inside-”
“No, you are not.”
Huffing, he sat back down. “Why, Lord?”
“You will talk to her,” Uhtred decided. “You’ve been yearning long enough.”
Osferth frowned. “And what if it goes wrong, or- or what if she doesn’t like me? I can’t ruin our friendship, Lord. It’s not something I want to lose.”
“You have a choice, Baby Monk. Either you take a risk and maybe get somewhere, or you can remain silent and get nowhere at all.”
Before Osferth could respond to that, you and Sihtric approached the two of them.
“Did you see me knock Sihtric on his arse?” you snickered, leaning on your sword slightly.
Uhtred smiled. “I did, ástin mín.”
You looked across to Osferth, but his gaze remained fixed on the ground for some reason.
“Do you two want to come to the alehouse with me?” you suggested, hoping Osferth would respond, but your brother spoke up first.
“I think I’ll miss it today,” he said. “I’m going home to my wife.”
“And I’m going to mine,” Sihtric added, but you already knew that.
“S’pose it’ll just be us, then,” you smiled at Osferth, “unless you’ve also got a wife that I don’t know about.”
Finally, he looked up at you and returned your smile. “Lucky for you, I haven’t.”
~~
The alehouse was bustling when you arrived, but you managed to wangle a small spot in the back corner, half-hidden by a wooden beam. It was cosy enough, and neither of you minded one bit.
As you sipped on your ale, you quietly observed the man before you. Every time your eyes dropped to your mug, Osferth’s gaze would find itself back on you - although he was trying to be subtle, you noticed, and it amused you to no end.
“You’re awfully quiet, Y/N. Is something bothering you?”
Osferth received a grin in reply, one that made his heart flutter in his chest.
“Not at all. I was just waiting for you to say something. I’ve realised I talk far too much, see, so I thought you might like a turn first.”
“You don’t talk too much,” he said at once, his expression hardening. “I don’t mind. Why, has anyone told you that you do?”
“No,” you assured him. “Just some introspection, I s’pose.”
His features softened at that. “Perhaps you should do a little more of that, then,” he smiled, “if that’s your conclusion.”
“Perhaps,” you chuckled.
After a moment, he took a rather large swig of his drink. “You fought really well today,” he said, his gaze meeting yours. For the first time, you felt you saw something else in his eyes, something beyond his usual fondness for you, but you could not be certain.
“Thank you,” you replied, beaming at him. “You… did see me knock Sihtric on his arse, didn’t you?”
“Of course I did,” he answered, “and I thoroughly enjoyed it, too.”
Both of you laughed then, only breaking eye contact to take another well-needed sip of your drink. Your heart was starting to beat uncomfortably quickly, and you suddenly felt the need for a little extra confidence just by sitting across from him.
“You and Uhtred seemed deep in discussion about something,” you pointed out. “Was it something important?”
Osferth exhaled before answering. “It was - it is. It’s really important.”
“Care to share?”
He frowned into his cup before finally answering, refusing to meet your gaze once again. “I like you.”
You raised an eyebrow. “Well, I’d hope so.”
Despite whatever he was seemingly wrestling with, his eyes momentarily shot up to give you an exasperated look. “That’s not what I meant.”
“Sorry. Go on?”
“What I meant was…”
He trailed off for a moment.
“Yes?”
“Y/N,” he groaned. “Give me a second.”
You grinned. “Alright. Sorry.”
Although you were being as patient as you could, the time he spent poring over his drink was beginning to feel like an eternity. Above all else, you did share Uhtred's blood... and your brother wasn't exactly famous for either his tact or his patience.
"D'you have feelings for me or something?"
His head shot up at this but, despite what you had expected, he didn't deny it. Instead-
"Yes. I do."
And for once, it was your turn to be silent. You felt incapable of saying or doing anything except staring at him.
The silence that descended upon the two of you stretched on for an uncomfortably long time as you processed the news with wide eyes. Osferth was beginning to fidget uncomfortably, his eyes fixed on his mug of ale - this silence could not bode well for him, surely-
“So do I.”
At once, his head shot up again, and if this moment was not so serious, you might have laughed at the comically shocked expression on his face. His eyes were wide and his lips parted, as though he truly had not expected such an answer from you.
“For you, I mean,” you added stupidly. “Not - not me, obviously.”
Why on earth would you say that?
Osferth stared at you for a moment, an unreadable look in his eyes, before he started laughing. Soon, you joined in, the two of you in fits of giggles, perhaps brought on by happiness or sheer relief that your feelings were mutual.
When they eventually subsided, you regarded him with pure fondness… though there was a gleam in your eye, too. At once, he picked up on it and raised an eyebrow.
“What?” he questioned, his lips quirking up into a smile.
You grinned at him, reaching across the table to take his hand. You didn’t miss the faint dusting of pink on his cheeks when you did so.
“Let’s get out of here.”
Laughing, he obliged at once and stood up to walk home with you. And for once, neither of you let go of the other.
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CLAIM!
Rated: Explicit (11.9k)
Relationship: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Characters: Derek Hale, Stiles Stilinski, Sheriff Stilinski, Ethan Steiner, background Cora Hale, Isaac Lahey, Erica Reyes, Vernon Boyd, mentioned Aiden Steiner, Scott McCall
Tags: POV Derek, POV Stiles, Alpha Derek, Human Stiles, Angst & Fluff & Smut, Alternate Universe - No Hale Fire/Modern Setting, Strangers to Lovers, Hurt Feelings, Pining, Dad Advice, Making Up, Getting Together, Various Explicit Sex Acts, Top Derek/Bottom Stiles, Hickeys, Come Eating, Knotting.
Summary: Derek calls "Claim" on Stiles at Jungle when Cora and Ethan show interest too. They leave together and have good time, but the next morning various packmates barge in and Ethan, not realizing that Stiles is still there, implies that he was a just a conquest in their game. Hurt feelings, making up, and smut.
Mead Moons prompts: Claiming, Herbs, Hot, & Midsummer Night's Dream @sterek-and-stuff-events
Sterek Weekly prompt: Video (also Claim.) @sterekweekly
Derek:
It started when the three Hale siblings and Isaac all had to share the same bathroom when the family temporarily moved into a guest bungalow while the Pack House was being remolded.
Their parents had the master bedroom and ensuite all to themselves. “Alpha Privilege” they said, smirking and shutting the door in their faces that first morning to get up to god knows what. Laura and Cora shared the modest second bedroom and Derek and Isaac the even smaller third one.
Every morning became a battle to see who got to shower first or at all. Isaac, the often quiet, but sardonic 14 year old they took in from an abusive father a couple years before, eventually just switched to evenings like a reasonable person, but the others refused. 19 year old Laura, 16 year old Derek, and 12 year old Cora instead came up with an elaborate system of dibs that involved yelling “Claim.”
Whoever yelled it first while in sight of the bathroom (not being able to “Claim” while still in bed or eating breakfast, etc, had been Rule #2) got to take the first shower even if someone else had been closer to the door. If you didn’t say it, it didn’t count. Too bad, so sad.
This continued on after they moved back to the larger property months later and was also extended to all manner of things: the corner pieces of brownies, riding shotgun, taking out the garbage instead of a more involved chore, the movie they were watching that night, etc. It became a constant refrain.
Isaac joined in and then Boyd and Erica when they were brought into the pack a couple years later, spreading to visiting friends as well. Even their parents got in on it.
Seven years of triumph, thwartation, and teasing later, the now 23 year old Derek was heading for a night out of clubbing with Erica, Cora, and the newest members of his mother’s pack, brothers Aiden & Ethan. First stop: Jungle.
The place was bustling when they arrived just before 11:00 on a Friday night, full of people letting off steam after what was, for most of them, the end of the work or school week.
That was the case for the twins, who were juniors at BHU, and Derek, who worked weekdays at an auto shop a couple towns over. Cora was a server at an Italian restaurant, but they closed at 9:00, so she had time to go home and get ready after her end-of-night duties. Erica’s LPN shift didn’t start until mid-afternoon tomorrow so she was also down to party into the wee hours.
The music was loud and various light displays shifted between colors and patterns. Aidan went straight for the bar, but the rest of them were checking out the packed dance floor and the winding, rolling, thrashing bodies working up a sweat, their attention soon drawn to a particularly ecstatic whirler who had carved out a space just for himself and seemed to be having the time of his life.
The dancer looked to be a couple years younger than Derek, dark hair short on the sides and longer on top, a few tendrils of which clung damply to his forehead begging to be brushed back. He was wearing tight black pants and a shimmery black shirt on his leanly muscled frame. There was gloss on his lips and makeup around what he thought were dark eyes, but couldn’t be sure with the currently orange lighting.
Derek thought he was beautiful, so alive and full of joy, even though he appeared to be here alone. And the way he gyrated those hips. Unfgh. He had to have him.
He saw Ethan making a beeline for him and when he turned to his sister she was eyeing him as well with a considering look on her face. Oh hell no. (Erica was enjoying the view as well, but she had Boyd at home so he didn’t have to worry about her.) Before Ethan could reach him and just as Cora opened her mouth Derek let out the mother of all “claims” in a truly stentorian roar.
“CLAAAAAIIIIMMMM!!!”
Cora huffed and rolled her eyes and Ethan halted, glaring back at him and clearly pissed that he’d forgotten about “that stupid game.” Derek was grinning like a Cheshire cat when the dancer looked over at him. Now to introduce himself.
Stiles:
Stiles had been lost in the music — eyes closed and just existing in his body, in the present — and enjoying a much needed break from his hamster wheel brain when there was a super loud shout, though he couldn’t make out what was said. When he opened his eyes and turned toward the source of the noise there was a small group of people looking in his direction. A 20-something guy with spiky dark hair and epic stubble flanked by two younger women, a brunette and a blonde.
All were attractive, but the man was on a whole other level. Wowzers. He wore dark chinos and a darker fitted shirt — possibly green — that showed off his muscular chest, upper arms, and other assets. On that note Stiles was dying to see the view from the back. The man smiled at him and he blushed, smiling back.
The three were then approached by a clean shaven, brown-haired man walking from his area of the dance floor and he looked away, embarrassed. They must’ve looking at and calling for him.
Stiles returned to his dancing, trying to get back in the zone, but failing. He glanced back to where the group was still standing, but while the other guy had seemingly multiplied Hottie Prime had vanished. He sighed, feeling disappointed.
I don’t why, it’s not like he would’ve been interested in you anyway the critical little voice in his head said. Yeah, but at least I could’ve gotten to look a bit more.
Ah well. When Stiles turned to face the bar again the man was standing right there in front of him.
“Eeyah!” he blurted, jumping. Of course it was during a break in the song when the volume was low enough that his weird little cry could be heard.
“Hi, there,” the gorgeous stranger said wearing a wolfish grin.
Stiles could see that his eyes were light, but couldn’t make out which color in the blue light. He swallowed and licked his dry lips.
“Um, hey,” he replied with an awkward wave. The music picked up again.
“Do you mind if I dance with you?” the man shouted.
Stiles shook his head, paused, nodded, and then realized that both were kind of ambiguous so finally just started to move again while grinning at him and hoping that got the message across. The amused man leaned in, warm breath ghosting against his ear.
“I’m Derek!”
“Stiles!”
“Stiles?”
“Yeah.”
He saw Derek nod and repeat it to himself, which was adorable.
After a couple of songs of orbiting around each other and mimicking each others moves, Derek stepped in closer and very lightly placed his hands on his hips, watching his face for a reaction. He blushed, nodding, and Derek’s grasp tightened, making a jolt of arousal course through him. The now red lighting momentarily reflected in the other man’s eyes making for a really cool effect as they moved together.
When the music speed up even more Stiles turned around and they danced pressed back to chest, hips first swaying side to side and then forward and back and all around together in time to the beat. Derek was plastered to him — hot and smelling of something spicy, bright, and woodsy — and Stiles could feel as he grew hard against his ass. He shivered, barely holding back a moan. Strong arms wrapped around him and lips brushed against his ear.
“You wanna get out of here?”
Derek:
Stiles told him he’d taken a rideshare to the club in case he had more than a couple drinks for the night so he got into Derek’s car after having him swear he wasn’t a serial killer. He’d also texted someone a picture of his driver’s license and license plate “just in case.” Derek was amused by his apologetic face, but also saddened at the precautions the younger man felt he had to take. It could be a dangerous world.
He didn’t live far from the club, but the tension in the Camaro made it seem longer. Stiles smelled aroused, but also nervous. Derek put a hand on his bouncing left knee.
“We don’t have to do anything, Stiles. I’ll be down for however far you want to go, but we can also just hang out or you can change your mind at any time, okay?” His passenger let out a breath and smiled, saying “Okay.” The atmosphere became much more relaxed.
Derek showed him around the loft and they talked about this and that for a while. Stiles mixed orange juice, Sprite, and strawberry Fanta together when he offered him a choice of water, juice or soda, practically daring him to comment. He held his tongue, but let his eyebrows do the judging. Then he made some tea for himself (Stiles actually awwed) and they joked around, flirting. They watched an episode of some new cooking competition show he’d never heard of, but that came highly recommended by his guest. Near the end of the first episode he felt Stiles watching him.
He turned toward the younger man who’d been looking at his lips and then met his gaze before focusing back on his lips again. Derek leaned in for a kiss and then another, the both of them progressively going longer and deeper. When Stiles came up for air he tried to take a sip of his half full drink, but managed to spill most of it on his shirt. Derek couldn’t help chuckling, but quickly got up to get him one of his sleep shirts to put on after kissing the embarrassed youth on the forehead.
Then he sat back on the couch and pulled a meeping and once again interested Stiles into his lap, looking into his pretty brown eyes.
“Okay?”
“Yeah.”
They resumed their making out and Stiles moved to straddle him, grinding down against him. Derek slid his hands under the shirt, his shirt, and stroked his sides. His sized up light gray tee hung even more loosely on the smaller man — who was only a couple inches shorter, but slender — and he pulled at the collar to get at his neck. The scent of Stiles’ arousal mixed with him wearing Derek’s clothes was doing things to him.
He lifted his head for another kiss and then leaned back to pull up the front of the shirt to look at Stiles’ belly and chest. Comfortable in his den and focusing on watching his right hand feel that warm, smooth skin — making those abdominal muscles twitch — and inhaling them had him involuntarily making little growling noises. His eyes even briefly flashed red without him noticing.
When Stiles froze and gasped, heart racing and smelling of surprise, he let go of the bunched up fabric and withdrew both hands.
“What’s—“
“You’re a wolf!” the staring human exclaimed.
“Uh, what? You—what…?”
Derek carefully set Stiles to the side and got up, his own heart pounding rapidly, and began to pace. What had he done? Did he actually beta-shift without realizing or something?
“Hey, it’s okay,” Stiles assured, scrambling to his feet, but still giving Derek space. ”My best friend is a wolf, so I just recognized the growly-growls and the, um, Alpha eyes.”
Derek’s head shot up. So the other man knew knew about werewolves then. He exhaled slowly. Well, at least he hadn’t lost as much control as he’d thought. His best friend, huh? Must be that kid who Mom met some years ago that ended up becoming a True Alpha somehow. Steve or something.
“Seriously dude, don’t worry. I’m totally cool with the wolfiness.”
Derek hazarded a glance at Stiles’ face. There was no fear or disgust in his eyes or in his scent. No lie in his heart beat. If anything he seemed curious and even more aroused. Heh. Derek grinned, thankful for the lucky break — he’d freak out about how sideways this could’ve gone later — and moved back toward the couch.
“Don’t call me ‘dude,’” he admonished mock-sternly as he sat down. Stiles climbed back into his lap.
“Okay, Alpha.”
Stiles:
Well that definitely had the desired effect. No longer attempting to hold back his wolfishness, Derek dove into his neck, licking and nipping and full on growling while squeezing his ass and rutting up against him. A minute later he was being picked up and yelped, wrapping his limbs around the werewolf who pressed a smile into his skin. God, Stiles loved how strong Derek was. He was set down in the Alpha’s bed and those hungry eyes had gone from their usual green-hazel — he’d finally gotten a good look in the kitchen — to red again.
“What do you want, Stiles?”
Everything, honestly. But was he said was “Your mouth up here…and your hands and body against mine.”
“I can do that,” came the reply, voice full of seductive promise.
And then he was pounced upon, lips seized in another kiss before his borrowed shirt was pushed up again, a hot tongue finding first one nipple and then the other. Derek licked down his chest and belly before kneeling back to peel off Stiles’ pants and then getting up to remove his own as well as his shirt. Wearing only their underwear below — him in red hip briefs and Derek in black boxer briefs — he opened his legs for the wolf to crawl between and press their lengths together, thrusting and grinding with only thin fabric between them. Derek resumed plundering his mouth and swallowing his moans.
Then the Alpha leaned off to the side and rutted against his right thigh, dragging down Stiles’ underwear enough to free his leaking cock. A large, callused hand wrapped around him after being licked wet and Stiles fucked into it as it stroked him. When he was getting close Derek straddled that same thigh and had him suck two fingers before sliding them under the red fabric, up his backside and into his cleft. The fingers alternately rubbed over and circled his hole, not quite dipping inside, until a minute later he was writhing and tensing and crying out.
Derek watched him cum onto his belly and chest, eyes glowing steadily as he continued to work Stiles through his orgasm. After he was spent the wolf collected most of it and used it to slick himself up. Stiles’ stared wide-eyed and hungrily when he pulled his cock out, absentmindedly licking his lips at the impressive sight. It didn’t take long for Derek to come too, stripping himself while looking down at him, all messy and languid and smiling.
With a growl Derek shot his seed onto him, first onto his flaccid cock — making him gasp — and then from his lower belly up to his chest. Stiles closed his eyes and bit back a whimper as the Alpha’s warm hand rubbed their releases together and into his skin before tugging the shirt back down and patting his stomach twice.
Afterward he lay there with Derek, happy and sated, as the wolf laid beside with an arm casually across his torso. About 15 minutes later he started to get antsy though, figuring that he should leave. Stiles wanted to stay right where he was and the wolf had made no signs of wanting him out — no exaggerated yawns or bringing up an early appointment or straight up looking at him and then staring at the door like one girl did freshman year maybe 3 minutes after. But that’s how this worked, right? Was what he was supposed to do. And then maybe if he was lucky the person would want to exchange numbers on his way out.
That had happened twice before. A classmate named Kat that he hooked up with a second time last fall and a sweet guy, Geoff, that he even dated for several weeks sophomore year before he transferred to Georgia. Or was it Alabama? Somewhere in the southeast.
He ran a hand through his hair and sighed, getting up to locate where Derek had thrown his pants. If he wanted that chance, however slim, of seeing the Alpha again he needed to not be clingy and annoying. A-ha, there they are. Way across the room in a corner.
“You don’t have to go, Stiles. If you don’t want to.”
He froze. Oh right, werewolf. He can probably sense how pathetic I’m being. He’s probably just being nice. Stiles turned around to make up some excuse and then realized Derek would also be able to sense that. Fuck.
“I mean it. I’d like it if you stayed,” the Alpha said, sitting up and leaning forward. “Snuggling with a cute guy, maybe getting another taste before or after breakfast…” He wagged his brows. “Sounds like a great plan to me.”
Stiles broke into a wide smile and Derek mimed circling and throwing a lasso around him, “pulling” him back to the bed. He giggled and went along, leaning over to give him a kiss.
“Give me a minute.”
He hurried back into the living area and grabbed his phone, sending a text to his father that he was staying out.
Stiles had considered moving into the dorms or into his own apartment like most of his classmates, but his father chilled out a bunch once he graduated high school and it made a lot more financial sense to stay home. He also hadn’t liked the idea of his dad living alone if he didn’t need to despite the elder Stilinski’s protestations that he’d be fine. Plus this way he could still harass encourage him to still eat healthy most of the time.
It did occasionally get awkward though. He didn’t hook up that often and when he did it was usually earlier in the night, only obviously being somewhere after the clubs actually closed a couple times. (It was Lydia he texted with the info of the people he’d gone home with, not his dad.) All of his close friends were either in SoCal or out of state currently so it wasn’t like he could claim to be with one of them right now.
His dad had never given him any shit for it, (all of his “sextures,” as Stiles called them, took place between 7th grade and his junior year of high school,) but the knowing look was enough. He was actually staying over this time — holy crap — so there was no getting around it. Totally worth it though.
When he got back to the room Derek smiled and patted the mattress beside him. Stiles climbed in and cuddled up to the wolf, falling asleep much faster than he would’ve expected as thick fingers carded through his hair.
Stiles woke a bit after 10:00 the next morning to the smell of frying bacon and yawned, happily remembering the night before. He relieved himself and then decided to take a quick shower after finding a couple of towels and washcloths folded and waiting for him. His now clean shirt was there too and a new toothbrush. Stiles swooned. How thoughtful.
There was also a pair of Derek’s boxer briefs for him to keep forever borrow if he wanted. He shushed his dick when it began to stir. Shower, then food, then hopefully more fooling around.
Stiles was just finishing up, greedily inhaling the scent of Derek’s body wash hanging in the humid air — the bergamot and oak that he first noticed at Jungle and was now clinging to his own skin — as he heard the wolf moving around in the bedroom. He was taking a last look in the mirror to make sure he didn’t have toothpaste on his face or hair sticking up all weird when there was a commotion downstairs. The sound of laughing and crosstalk and a door slamming before one guy’s voice in particular called out loudly.
“Hey Derek, how was that sweet piece of ass last night? I can’t believe you beat me to him with your fucking ‘Dibs’—“
“‘Claim,’” corrected multiple voices.
“‘Claim’, whatever. I should’ve just igno—“
“Shut the fuck up,” Derek hissed.
He held onto the counter as the sound of footsteps retreated, looking at the now pained expression in his reflection. Oh. Of course. It had been some kind of competition. And then Derek had wanted him to stay in order to show proof of his conquest, but probably hadn’t expected his friends to be so blatant about it.
Stiles didn’t know what to do. Remaining in here all day wasn’t an option, but he also really didn’t want to go out there. To be seen. Especially upset as he was.
Maybe they’d get bored and leave soon and then he could go too. He put the toilet seat down and sat on it, drawing up his knees and hugging them. His eyes stung, but Stiles took a deep breath and tried to will his thoughts elsewhere. He’d be damned if he was going to cry. Not here anyway.
Derek:
He groaned in annoyance when most of the gang came crashing in. The group from last night minus Aiden (who was likely still sleeping off the drinks he’d no doubt spiked with spotted wolfsbane) and plus Boyd and Isaac. Derek had been looking forward to a nice breakfast with his new companion and then hopefully finding out what that mouth could do. Afterward, assuming Stiles didn’t have somewhere else to be, he wanted to spend the rest of the day getting to know the funny, sexy-adorable, clever, wolf-friendly human. Grr.
Then he realized what Ethan was yelling about. Fuck.
“Shut the fuck up,” he hissed, running toward and then down the stairs. He had really hoped that Stiles hadn’t heard the insensitive wolf, but if the elevated heart rate now coming from the bathroom was any indication he definitely had. Shit.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?” he spat in a barely audible whisper. “You couldn’t hear that he’s still here?” Ethan shrugged.
“I wasn’t really paying attention and assumed he’d be long gone by now.”
“Well, he’s not. Because I like him and asked him to stay. And he heard you. So can you please go the fuck away?” He turned to look at the other sheepish younger wolves. “That goes for the rest of you too.”
Derek saw them out and was the one to slam the door this time. He took a deep breath and steeled himself before climbing slowly up the stairs. After a brief pause he rapped his knuckles on the bathroom door.
“Hey, are you okay?” He heard a derisive snort and cringed. “Can I talk to you…please?” There was movement inside and then the door flew open. The scents of hurt and bitter resentment, of anger and salt, came wafting out with the toiletries.
“There isn’t anything to talk about,” Stiles said, turning sideways to slide past him without touching him. Derek whined internally. There were no tear tracks on his face, but his pretty brown eyes had an extra sheen to them.
“I’m sorry, Stiles. I—It wasn’t like that,” he started, watching the young man collect his phone before heading down to get his house keys and put on his socks and shoes. “The whole ‘claim’ business was for the opportunity to approach you first, not to make being with you a…a game or something. It wasn’t. Not to me.”
Stiles turned toward him, frowning and mistrustful. He kept going.
“I didn’t know they were going to barge in here. I was hoping to spend the day with you. Not only fooling around, but maybe watching more of that show you like — it was pretty entertaining — or going for a walk. Grabbing some lunch. Stuff like that.”
The human only looked at him, searching his face and saying nothing.
Derek felt desperate, like he was about to lose something special right as it started. Just as it could’ve, should’veblossomed into more. Nipped in the bud instead.
Stiles:
He wanted to believe Derek, he really did. Wanted it with every fiber of his being to be told “Psych, I actually do really like you and want to spend more time with you.” But he was hurt and uncertain and just wanted to go home. And even if Derek had meant it like how he said, he still wasn’t keen on the idea of being involved in a competition between the two men. Who did that? Stiles sighed and headed for the door.
“You could call your friend, the wolf, and I—I could prove it,” Derek called after him in a shaky voice. “He would know that I was telling the truth.”
Stiles paused and sighed again, turning and walking up to the hangdog looking Alpha. He kissed his cheek and murmured “Thanks for last night. It…was very nice.”
Then he left.
That Monday the dark-haired young woman he saw at the club — who introduced herself as Cora, Derek’s sister — came up to him when they crossed paths at the school library. The hesitant freshman apologized for her part in the the whole situation and reiterated that her brother was truly sorry and that he would love to see him whenever if Stiles ever forgave him. She took off quickly once he acknowledged that he heard her, but he didn’t respond one way or the other.
The following day he was still moping on the couch at home, set off again when he tried to watch his favorite cooking show that evening and couldn’t help thinking of Derek. How amazing that night had been and then how things had ended the next morning with him feeling less than. Was he being too harsh? Not harsh enough by not telling Cora to tell Derek to fuck off?
His father came home from his day shift and raised an eyebrow at his broody state. An hour or so later just after dinner he asked what was troubling him and Stiles gave him the gist of it after some hemming and hawing. A sheepish expression came over the his face and Stiles narrowed his eyes.
“What?”
“Well, you know…actually, you definitely don’t know this…but me and your mom? My friend Michael actually noticed her first at the veteran’s shindig, but I challenged him to an arm wrestling match to ask her out instead. Best of three. Mike was a bit…tipsy and overconfident and I won all three rounds. So I got to try my luck and well the rest — he spread his arms with a grin now on his face — is history.”
Stiles sat there with his mouth hanging open. Apparently the answer to “Who did that?” was his dear old Dad. His own father had basically called dibs on his mother.
“You should close that before you swallow a fly,” his father teased. “A little friendly competition is not uncommon. And it’s true that it can get out of hand, become a callous, hurtful thing, but it doesn’t have to be. You’ve never had to deal with this issue before because by the time you and Scott actually had a chance in hell at dating — I love you son, but it’s true — the two of you had very different types. He likes to chase after dark-eyed brunettes and you seem to lean mostly toward athletic or hunky guys—“
“Never say that again,” Stiles said half-heartedly.
“But when you are interested in women it’s generally a blonde…or redhead.”
His dad gave him an amused look, clearly remembering his Lydia phase before they actually became friends. Stiles rolled his eyes. Huh. He wasn’t wrong though. And now that he thought of it, every time he’d been open to meeting someone while going out with friends they’d either been straight or in a relationship or had different types. Danny pretty much swung between super beefy muscle bros that probably lived in a gym and the twinkiest of twinks depending on what he was in the mood for.
Stiles was most attracted to guys like, well, Derek. Or at least his own size. He liked it when someone could move him around, but without giving young Ah-nold (or hell, old Ah-nold) a run for his money. Sue him. What would he have done if Scott was there, was bi or gay, and they’d both been into Derek at the club?
Well, absolutely nothing probably, but in theory? Hmm…
“Let me ask you a few questions, kiddo” his dad said, interrupting his thought experiment. “Did he treat you right?”
Stiles nodded and then blushed. Oh, Derek had treated him well alright. His father rolled his eyes.
“That’s…not what I meant — and say no more — but I won’t pretend that that doesn’t matter too. Ahem.” Stiles ducked his head, grinning.
“Yeah. He assured me that anything that happened was up to me and he washed my shirt that I spilled OSS on—“
“You and your damn concoctions. Which one is that again?”
“Orange juice, Sprite, and strawberry soda…anyway. Yeah. He was…thoughtful and sweet.”
“Hmm. And did he—what was his name again?”
“I didn’t say, but it’s Derek.”
“Did Derek show interest in you? Your thoughts and interests and feelings?”
Stiles sighed.
“Yeah, he did…”
“And finally, did he…like you? Get all smiley? At least hint at wanting to see you again?” Stiles lowered his head onto the table, lightly thunking it a few times.
“Yersh,” he said, leaving his face mashed against the wood. The elder Stilinski waited until he rested his chin on his arms and met twinkling blue eyes.
“Well, if you want your old man’s advice…” Stiles rolled his eyes. As if his father hadn’t been coaxing him to a certain conclusion this whole conversation.
“Sure,” he replied, nodding and shrugging a shoulder. Might as well humor him. His dad grew more serious.
“Your feelings are valid and if it’s truly a dealbreaker for you, so be it. But, if you really like this guy — and it sounds like you do — consider giving him another chance. Not just for his sake, but for your own as well.”
And with that his father got up, patted him on the shoulder and kissed his head, and then wandered into the living room, probably to turn on the tv and catch the rest of whatever game was on.
Stiles thunked his head a few more times. Goddammit. It sounded so reasonable when you put it like that. He stayed there for a while, trying to think things through.
Oh shut up. You know you’d rather be with Derek than be mad. It’s a matter of pride, sure, but you can always have him beg some. Preferably in bed. And you can still be mad at that other dude, who was the one that actually called you a piece of ass.
He grinned mischievously.
Derek:
It’d been an altogether uneventful Wednesday — no screaming customers or tricky repairs or shipping delays for parts — but Derek wanted nothing more than to just go home. Well, there was something, or rather someone, he wanted more, but that wasn’t in the cards. The work had been a helpful distraction the last few days, but in between fixing or maintaining vehicles and checking inventory and whatever else needed doing, his thoughts returned to Saturday and Stiles again and again. Especially today when he finished the last car in the queue a good hour before close.
Finally 6pm came and he was ready to go just 5 minutes after having done the usual post-close tasks already. Derek called out a goodbye to Terrance and Miguel, got in his car, and peeled out of there.
He decided to stop at Rosario’s on his way out of Selva because why not stuff his face while wallowing in his misery? At least his pain was supporting the tiny family owned donut shop. Maybe he’d even put on that cooking show when he got home too. Make it really hurt.
Then he’d check his phone for anything actually important, ignore the pups wanting to hang out some more (especially a certain precipitating beta that dared to say he shouldn’t be so upset about a one night stand as if he wasn’t upset precisely because he hadn’t wanted it to be a one night stand. Or to hurt him.) On second thought, he‘d text Ethan a series of middle fingers for that.
Maybe try to make himself go for a night run before coming back home, taking a shower (he’d finally switched to nights after working a job that got him dirty) and eating a pint of ice cream and going to bed. What a plan. Rinse and repeat the next day, except perhaps he’d get some pie or french toast with maple syrup, strawberries and whipped cream instead. He let his sweet tooth run wild when he was down in the dumps.
But when he pulled into the parking lot of his apartment building around a quarter to 7:00 there was a beat up, old blue Jeep in a guest spot that he’d never seen before and an unexpected visitor waiting by the door to the lobby.
“Stiles?!” he blurted, surprised and cautiously hopeful. Also a bit afraid. It seemed unlikely, but maybe he was going to get chewed out some more. The tired looking human stood up from where he’d been perched on a large rectangular concrete planter.
“Sorry for just showing up, but I don’t have your number or anything and your sister said you still wanted to see me.”
He wanted to simultaneously kiss and strangle Cora.
“Yeah, I did. I do. I hope she hasn’t been bothering you—“
“Nah, she just spoke to me the one time a couple days ago when she saw me at BHU. Said her piece and left.” Derek nodded.
“Did you want to come in…?”
“Yeah, sure.”
Derek tried to discreetly suss out his emotional state as they want through the door and walked down the hall to the elevator closer together, but he saw Stiles smirk so he probably wasn’t as subtle with the sniffing as he thought. He smelled…Derek wasn’t quite sure actually. There were lots of shifting scents. But he wasn’t acutely upset, which seemed like a good sign.
When they reached the loft he went to the fridge and mixed a can each of strawberry Fanta and Sprite and a cup of orange juice together, dividing it into two glasses. He’d first tried the unusual combination when he’d been pining on Sunday. It wasn’t bad at all, though he wasn’t sure if he’d gotten the ratio right.
Stiles smiled and raised an eyebrow and Derek blushed. After taking a couple sips the younger man took a deep breath and started talking, tracing circles on the table with his pointer fingers.
“So I probably overreacted on Saturday…”
Derek was about to contradict him, but he put one of those fingers to his own lips and then to Derek’s. He almost whined at the touch.
“Shhh, let me finish. I’m not saying I was wrong to be upset at all, but I made some leaps myself. Assumptions that probably were’t true. Like how I thought you had the others come over to show off your conquest.”
He shook his head in negation. Oh Stiles.
“I have my own issues around…actually being liked or wanted,” the human grimaced. “And that just really didn’t help.”
Derek actually did whine then. He hated the idea of Stiles feeling that way at all, much less because of him and his packmates.
“But I talked with my dad and he gave me some advice — you so owe that man a BBQ platter or something, by the way — and he made me realize that whatever stuff you had going on with your friends, that you never treated me like I was just a…prize or a notch in your belt. You were kind and considerate and fun and so fucking sexy and I like you, goddamnit. So yeah. If you wanna give this thing another try…”
Stiles shrugged a shoulder casually, but Derek could make out his anxious scent and racing heart. A huge grin came over his face as his chest thrummed with elation. Oh he was definitely going to thank Stiles’ dad profusely if…whenthey eventually met.
“Yes,” he replied, actually a bit choked up, before clearing his throat and trying again. “Yes, Stiles. Of course. I like you so much. And once again, I’m sorry.”
“Cool,” Stiles said, leaning in for a kiss.
Derek did indeed watch more of that cooking show, but unlike what he imagined a couple hours before he had Stiles with him commenting on everything. He shared his box of donuts mentioning that he had planned to eat them all while missing him and continuing to lament losing his chance.
“Aww, Derek,” Stiles cooed before snuggling up to him and then mockingly “Claim”-ing over half of the assorted pastries, saving two for his father in thanks. When the human left to go home a few hours later it was with Derek’s number in his phone. A couple minutes later he heard what must’ve been that blue monstrosity struggle to life — he cringed and swore then and there to get Stiles to let him tune it up — and his phone chimed a couple times.
The first message was a close-up picture of Stiles behind the wheel from mid-nose down to his upper chest, head titled up and to the side to show off his bared throat with his collar pulled down and a mischievous smirk. Swallowing, he scrolled down and there was also a video of the same, only capturing the movement of it and with Stiles whispering his name. Derek groaned and felt like that “awooga” wolf from the old cartoons, eyes widened and salivating as blood went rushing south.
Then there was another short video with his full face this time, blowing him a kiss and then smiling widely with laughing eyes. It was followed by a few snapshots of him doing so. Derek grinned and saved them to his gallery and the phone number to his contacts under “Favorite Human.”
He picked Stiles up on Friday evening for a 7:15 reservation at the restaurant where Cora worked, everything on the house. They shared tagliatelle alla carbonara, pappardelle with short rib ragu and polenta with taleggio and mushrooms for dinner and a piece of tiramisu and two cannolis — one with chopped pistachios and the other with chocolate chips — for dessert. He hugged his sister, thanking her for the delicious meal and again for letting Stiles know he’d still wanted to hear from him. She grinned and said he owed her and that she intended to cash in a big favor sometime.
His happily stuffed date suggested they catch the local theater’s final showing of the latest explosionpalooza and then stayed over afterward, changing into one of Derek’s shirts and snuggling up to him and giving his ass a squeeze before promptly falling asleep. Derek nuzzled his shoulder and then drank in the sight of him until he started drifting off as well.
He woke when Stiles’ alarm went off and then grumbled and pouted as he watched him get up to leave early in the morning. Apparently, there were some serious home projects going on at the Stilinski residence that day and he also needed to catch up on his studying and coursework after, but he told Derek that he’d be free tomorrow. Stiles smacked a kiss on his head, said “see ya later, sourwolf” and danced away laughing before Derek’s groggy, uncoordinated self could grab him.
He came back over to the loft on Sunday for a triple feature and Derek couldn’t wait to show him some of his favorite ambitious and visually interesting films: The Fall (2006,) Cloud Atlas, and Across the Universe. In between the second and third movie Derek also got down on his knees to show the surprised, but excited younger man what his mouth could do.
When Stiles looked down at him with a half-lidded gaze, scent going warm and musky-sweet as he spread his legs Derek nearly whined in anticipation. Then the human gently held his chin and he stilled the hands that were reaching to undo another pair of those snug black pants. He glanced up again.
“I want to hear how much you want it,” Stiles said with an authoritative voice, but a telltale rosiness on his cheeks.
Derek was amused and charmed and so very turned on. So the blushing boy wanted him to grovel a bit, hmm? Not only was he not above begging, but he found he liked the idea of a little role reversal for once. The Alpha at the mercy of a human.
“Please, Stiles. Let me suck your cock,” he said, running his hands teasingly up and down his thighs and looking him right in the eye. “I want to taste you so much, want to satisfy you and make you cum. Please, baby. Please.”
“Well, alright then,” Stiles said, trying to be nonchalant, but only getting more flustered.
Seconds later Derek had his hard cock in his mouth and the taste of precum on his tongue. Both of them moaned. A hand burrowed into his hair and he began to suck in earnest, his own erection straining and leaking inside his pants. After a couple of minutes he tugged Stiles’ pants and underwear down further to mid-thigh so he could have an easier time fondling his balls, making him groan louder and jerk his hips.
When that movement caused Stiles’ cock to touch the back of his throat he gagged a bit, but then growled in pleasure. The human started to apologize, but Derek popped off and said “It’s fine.” He then snaked his arms under Stiles’ knees and gripped his ass to fuck his own face with him. Stiles’ head fell back against the couch as he whispered “Oh. My. God.”
Derek grinned as he pulled back to suckle and lick around the head before resuming the previous motion. That’s right, baby. Going to ruin you for anyone else. He could tell Stiles was getting close.
“If you’re good…and swallow it all…I’ll return…the favor…next time.”
Fuck. He was going to do that anyway, but now he was really going to give it his all. Derek put Stiles back down and put one hand on the base of his cock, using the other to massage his taint. He went to town with his mouth and when Stiles started tensing he looked up, red eyes locking onto whiskey brown, and instantly started receiving a warm and salty reward for his efforts. Mmm.
Swallowing as he went, Derek didn’t let up until Stiles was trembling and reached a limp arm to tap his shoulder. He drew off, licking the tip one last time, and wrapped his arms around the younger man’s back, pressing his head against the clothed chest so that the sound of Stiles’ heartbeat was all he could hear.
Stiles:
After he recovered from the most epic blowjob of his life Stiles had Derek sit back on the couch and straddled him, pants pulled back up, but left unbuttoned. He freed the wolf’s engorged and so far neglected member, spit a few times into his right hand, and began to work him with long, slow strokes. When he moaned Stiles kissed his open mouth, sucking his bottom lip before sliding his tongue inside and tasting a trace of himself.
He sped up and licked his other hand, adding it to the impressive cock as well to twist and squeeze around the base. Then he nibbled Derek’s left earlobe and whispered.
“Mmm, such a beautiful cock. Fuck my hand, Alpha. Show me what to look forward to.”
God, the way Derek looked when he drew back to see his face. All predatory intensity, hands flexing against his sides. It was a wonder that he wasn’t thrown down and fucked right there. Not that he would’ve complained. (At least as long as there was a pit stop for lube.) Instead the wolf obliged and began thrusting and making those little growly noises like that first night, which were frankly adorable in addition to being hot as fuck.
He looked down between them and imagined Derek pounding into him just like that, disappearing inside of him over and over and he moaned, spurring him on. When the movement went from fast to erratic he removed one hand and pulled up his shirt, knowing how the wolf liked to mark him that way. Derek rumbled, caressing his abdomen, and then shot ropes of cum against his skin. When he was finished Stiles let go of Derek’s cock and took his hand, both of them rubbing it into his skin together.
Still smiling at each other a few minutes later they went to wash up a bit and grab some more food and drinks before hunkering back down for the 60s-tastic Beatles’ musical. Stiles had brought over a handful of snacks and a few beverages too and when he saw that Derek had grapefruit juice this time he introduced him to “R2G2”: Ruby red grapefruit juice, guava nectar, and ginger ale.
“Add some rum or vodka and you’ve got yourself a nice little cocktail,” he informed the wolf watching him fondly.
That Wednesday evening he ended up being introduced to Derek’s three betas — Isaac, Boyd, and Erica — and also the culprit from that first morning after, Ethan. He’d been nearby and when he asked what Derek was up to he told him he was hanging out with some pack members and that Stiles could come by if he wanted to. He took several minutes to think about whether he did want to or not, finally sighing and deciding he should go ahead. He was going to have to get to know them sooner or later.
The betas were all smiles and curiosity and welcome, especially the blonde he remembered from the club. Erica. Then one of the twins he’d also seen there sauntered out of the bathroom and he immediately recognized his voice when he began to speak.
“Oh look, it’s you. Derbear here lucked out after all.” Derek growled lowly as the younger wolf approached him with his hand out. “The name’s Ethan.”
Stiles raised an eyebrow and shook it firmly. “Piece of Ass, nice to meet you.”
Erica cackled in delight as Isaac grinned widely and Boyd smirked and shook his head. Derek looked back and forth between them anxiously. The cocky beta snorted.
“Yeah, sorry about all that. What can I say, you’ve got a nice one.” Ethan replied, shrugging.
Stiles saw Derek’s eyes go red and the growling got louder. He walked over to the Alpha and stood next to him, pulling the wolf’s left arm around his back to grasp his hip and reaching his own right hand around to squeeze Derek’s ass, making him jolt and quiet, before settling on a hip too.
“It’s spoken for,” Stiles said baring his teeth in what one could only mistake as a smile from some distance. Ethan raised his hands and ducked his head.
“Alright, okay, I’ll shut up.”
“Thanks,” he snarked.
When Stiles turned to Derek he was looking at him with hunger and pride and the next thing he knew he was being swept up and taken around the corner into the partially separated kitchen as the other wolves oohed and whistled. He was set down on a counter and the Alpha dove into his neck, scenting and licking and then biting and licking all around as he clutched onto broad shoulders.
He walked back into the common area hand in hand with Derek, blushing, but with his head held high wearing what was — as he’d seen in the reflection of the window over the sink — a truly impressive array of hickeys. There was a drawled “Daaamn” from Isaac and Erica looked at Boyd as if she was challenging him to do better, temporary as it’d be. Ethan wisely said nothing, only glancing up briefly and meeting the Alpha’s eye before going back to scrolling on his phone.
Stiles stayed for a couple of hours playing card games and monopoly and taking turns putting on music — they each got 3 songs at a time — and actually having a good time. When he had to go he did his best to leave a single massive bruise on Derek’s neck and the werewolf promised he’d hold onto it until he fell asleep. Of course his dad was sitting in his recliner in the the living room when he came in, recently returned from a swing shift, and his eyebrows shot up as they exchanged “hellos” and “goodnights.”
As he headed up the stairs he heard a muttered “Was he attacked by vampires?” Stiles paused and grinned.
“A werewolf, actually.”
His father sputtered and he heard the foot rest of the recliner swing shut. He turned around on the 7th step as his father came into view.
“Wait, your Derek is Derek Hale?”
“Yep,” Stiles said, smugly. He was also very curious about how his father knew of him.
The elder Stilinski had found out about werewolves not long after Stiles did — when Scott was Bitten by some unknown wandering Alpha. He was on the night shift that first full moon a couple weeks later, but stopped home to get something or other and heard the unholy racket of an angry chained up werewolf coming from the basement. Stiles hastily informed him that the situation was under control and that the murderous looking creature was actually one floppy-haired Scott McCall.
The new wolf hadn’t wanted to join a pack at the time — apparently he didn’t have to as long as he maintained other strong personal connections — but the Alphas in the region, Satomi Ito and Talia Hale had offered resources and basic lessons. Scott took to Satomi right away so she was the one who instructed him and still checked up on him from time to time, but the Sheriff was present with Scott’s mom, Melissa, at the initial meeting and naturally looked up what he could about the resident wolves.
His father had never mentioned the name of the 2nd Alpha knowing how especially nosy his son was back then. Scott had simply misremembered her as “Alpha Helen.” Surprise!
After explaining his dad looked at him, opening and shutting his mouth a few different times before simply snorting and shaking his head.
“Well damn. Good for you, son” he said finally, ambling back to his chair.
Good for me, indeed. And speaking of which, he had a call to make — or maybe a text, this could get embarrassing — to said werewolf bro in San Diego who should still be awake. Stiles had plans for this weekend and some questions to ask.
When Saturday came around — two weeks after he’d left for what he’d thought both the first and last time — Stiles returned to the loft as a man on a mission. Derek was still greeting him after opening the door when he dropped his bag of groceries on the floor and started kissing him. The older man’s amused grin turned into an expression of disbelief and then desire when Stiles dropped to his knees before him. Derek hurriedly closed the door and then he was leaning against it as Stiles gripped his muscular thighs and nuzzled his crotch.
“It’s next time,” he said cheekily as momentarily clawed hands fumbled with the zipper.
He’d been drawing things out some, feeling out the situation at first and then both enjoying the anticipation itself and teasing Derek a little and hopefully making him want, but he was done waiting for more. This was the third occasion of him getting eyes on that gorgeous cock and he was going to get it in his mouth this time. Stiles lifted his eyes to watch Derek staring intently from above and opened up, sticking his tongue out for the wolf to do whatever he wanted while resting his hands on his own legs.
Derek looked at him like he was a precious thing that he also planned on sullying and then took hold of himself, rubbing the head of his cock across Stiles’ cheek and then over his top lip before sliding it onto his tongue and then inside.
“Go on,” the Alpha prompted huskily.
Stiles closed his lips around the hot flesh stretching him wide and started bobbing, eyes fluttering at the taste and feel of him. Oh yes. After a few minutes he withdrew and teased Derek’s shaft with little licks and then over the head and dipping into the slit, making him whine and jerk minutely. Stiles engulfed him again, tongue lapping firmly on the underside of his cock as he resumed sucking.
A hand was placed on his head and Stiles moaned in approval, encouraging the wolf to thrust as well. He opened even wider and let saliva run down, the wet sounds and the grunts of pleasure above spurring him on. When Derek started tensing up he finally lifted a hand to grasp his balls, fondling and squeezing them just hard enough to send him over the edge.
Cum flooded his mouth, warm and rich on his tongue. Derek reached down to run the pads of his fingers up and down his throat, growling lowly as he swallowed. He didn’t stop until he took it all and the Alpha’s head fell back against the door.
“Wow.”
Stiles pulled off, wiping his mouth with the back of a hand and grinned.
After taking a minute to rest, leaning into a bite-worthy thigh and being pet affectionately, he got up with an assist from a starry-eyed Derek, who immediately cupped his face and kissed him hungrily. Then he cleaned up a bit and made space on the counter, gathering the groceries spilling out of the bag. Now to put the rest of his plan into motion. As he unpacked the other pierogi fixings he made a show of looking for a missing item.
“Oh crap, I don’t have the sour cream and I need it for this. Do you think you could grab some for me while I get things started?”
Stiles made a point of not saying he forgot the sour cream because that would’ve been a big fat lie, but he must’ve still reacted in some way, perhaps his heart speeding up as he wondered if this would work or in anticipation, and the wolf narrowed his eyes suspiciously. Derek soon fell victim to his puppy dog eyes anyway and went on the errand after shooting him another dubious glance and saying “Be good.”
Going to be so good for you, Der.
As soon as he heard the car pull away Stiles went hunting through the neat pile of clothes that the Alpha had worn, but didn’t need to go in the laundry basket yet. He selected one of Derek’s light gray T-shirts that the wolf liked to sleep and apparently run in sometimes, which were large even on his broader body. The hem came down to the very tops of his thighs in front and showed just a hint of butt cheek in the back. Perfect.
He’d had that awkward and hilarious conversation with Scott a few nights ago, who excitedly called him full of his own questions after Stiles texted “So, werewolf sex…now relevant to my interests. Give me the deets.”
There were some things he already knew about — the thing about necks, STIs not being a concern, and the importance of scent in general — but he learned that wearing their clothes in particular was like wolfnip. That certain movements and actions made them want to chase and that getting into a position that was head down and ass up went straight to their furry little brains. About the different kinds of marking.
Knowing he had 20 minutes or so at most now before Derek returned Stiles washed up quickly, put the shirt back on, and then peeked into the nightstand for lube, which he actually did forget to bring. Luckily, the wolf kept it in the typical place and he got to working himself open on the bed, teasing, but not trying to get off. Stiles withdrew three fingers when he heard the Camaro pull in — he was a pro at recognizing car engine’s thanks to years of listening for his father or other patrol cars while doing mischief — and set the scene.
Derek called out for him shortly after entering and he yelled “Up here.”
“I hope I got the right kind,” he replied, climbing the stairs. “There were a bunch of different ones, but I just got a tub of original and also picked up s—“
Stiles wished he could’ve captured the look on Derek’s face when he walked into the bedroom and froze upon seeing him sat on the bed, leaning back on his hands with his head tilted up and to the side and his feet on the mattress, knees bent and spread wide.
“Alpha,” he breathed, shifting his weight to one hand and trailing a finger between his cheeks with the other. He rolled over onto his forearms and knees after seeing Derek’s hands clench and his eyes turn red.
Stiles heard the sound of the grocery bag hitting the floor and then a belt being unbuckled and clothes quickly being pulled off and discarded. He shivered with anticipation as the mattress dipped behind him.
Derek’s left hand fisted in the shirt and exposed more of his back as the right palmed the corresponding butt cheek, thumb sliding over his wet hole before slipping easily inside.
“I’m ready for you.”
“Stiles,” Derek groaned, letting go of the shirt to grab the bottle of lube on the bed.
The cap was popped open one-handed as the wolf continued to play with his asshole and Stiles closed his eyes, just focusing on the sensation and listening to the slick sounds behind him.
Then he was being mounted, cock head pressed against his rim. He made a high-pitched whine when he was breached and Derek’s hips jerked forward as he sunk deeper, rumbling deep in his chest. Stiles grinned. Another effective werewolf turn-on. He dropped his head lower so that the Alpha could mouth over more of his neck as he bottomed out.
Eyes all but rolling back at the feeling of being so full, he started rocking and squeezing the thick cock buried inside him. When Derek’s arms braced on either side of him and the thrusting began Stiles’ jaw fell open in pleasure even greater than he’d imagined.
Derek:
The feeling of plunging into Stiles’ welcoming heat was indescribable. He was enveloped. Embedded. Euphoric.
Derek knew that the human was up to something, but had assumed a prank or game of some kind. Maybe hiding notes or trinkets for him to find later or making some mystery concoction.
He was not expecting to find Stiles in his bed, naked except for his shirt, showing off his throat and glistening hole and then presenting for him. It took all of his control to not just rip through his clothes.
And now he was inside with Stiles eagerly moving around him. Derek almost pulled out before snapping his hips and driving forward again and again and again, desperate to fill him. To feel him.
The sounds of Stiles’ pleasure were intoxicating and fueled him to go faster and harder. He shoved his face into a clothed shoulder, inhaling their combined scents and then rubbing his stubble over the younger man’s exposed skin. Despite his wolf’s protests, he held back his knot as he drew near. Soon hopefully, but not yet.
Derek thought of Stiles swallowing his release an hour or so before and how he was now going to plant his seed within this passage as well, saturating the human’s core with himself, and tipped over the edge. He thrusted on, groaning as his cock pulsed, and shortly after Stiles was crying out and contracting around him untouched. Derek wrapped an arm around him and rose up into a kneeling position, bringing Stiles with him and turning his head to kiss him greedily as they rocked through the aftershocks.
They rinsed off cursorily in the shower, Stiles smirking at him knowingly while using soap on his hands, but not his body and then dressing in more of his clothes. Derek backed him into a wall and sucked a massive bruise onto the side of his neck.
Finally, they got around to making lunch, Derek watching Stiles prepare the dough with sour cream and then helping to assemble the potato, cheese, and fried onion pierogis after copying the first few. Apparently, there were several ways to cook them including boiling, baking, boiling and pan-frying, and pan-frying and steaming. Stiles decided on the latter, topping the browned dumplings with chives and parsley and serving them with more sour cream sprinkled with smoked paprika. It was delicious and Stiles smelled sweet with happiness and satisfaction at his enjoyment.
Derek said he still felt a bit hungry afterward and scooped the squawking human up while he was attempting to do dishes, depositing him gently on his back on the kitchen table. He tugged off the loose gray sweats and swept an arm under Stiles’ knees, folding him up and leaning down to lick broad stripes over the sensitive furled muscle before pushing against it and dipping in. When Stiles came he lapped up the pearly liquid on his belly, sucked his cock clean, pulled up the pants, and then carried the momentarily speechless human into the living room.
Stiles chose a movie called Were The World Mine to watch that was on his list, but that neither of them had seen yet. It was about a bullied gay teenager cast as Puck in a school production of A Midsummer Night’s Dream who finds a recipe for a love potion and various shenanigans ensue. Derek’s pick was Baz Luhrman’s Romeo + Juliet in keeping with both the Shakespeare theme and his love for interesting, cool-looking films. Stiles humored him and his raving about the aesthetic, editing, soundtrack, and more when it was over, eventually quieting him by climbing into his lap and occupying his tongue.
And that’s how they ended up upstairs again, Derek being straddled once more, only now with Stiles perched on his knot.
He’d been planning to bring it up (ha!) some other time, likely a ways down the road, but Stiles surprised him yet again and asked Derek if he’d like to, obviously curious about it himself. Um, yeah. He was ridden silly until it formed and together they worked it inside nice and easy. Derek grinned from ear to ear as he experienced this dream come true and, well, came more than he ever had before.
Stiles was still milking him, approaching his own orgasm when he heard the sound of the door being opened downstairs and then an all too annoyingly familiar voice.
“Hey Derek!”
He groaned and knocked his head against the bedstead. Did the wolf not have ears and a nose?
“What are you up to ton—“
Before he could manage to say anything the human still defiantly grinding on his cock took a deep breath.
“Get out!”
There was a pause and then laughter and a half-assed “Ope, my bad” before the door slammed shut again.
“I’m getting you another lock, Derek,” Stiles hissed.
“And I’ll only give you the key, babe” he said, grinning and kissing the annoyed human’s nose. And maybe Boyd. Hecould be trusted to be both observant and considerate.
He wasn’t about to let Ethan ruin Stiles’ good time again so he immediately got to work on distracting him from the intrusion, sucking his nipples and taking hold of his cock while moving his hips in small circles.
“Fuck, Der,” the youth said between moans.
Derek refrained from making the obvious joke, but smiled into Stiles’ neck where he was now leaving more pretty bruises. He put his free hand on the humans hip and then moved it over his ass, grabbing a cheek before sliding fingers between to feel where they were connected. That was apparently the last bit of stimulation needed because then Stiles was gasping and spasming around his knot. He grabbed his cock as he came to aim the rest of his release at Derek’s chest and abdomen.
“CLAAAIIIIMM!” Stiles yelled for any other lurking supernaturals and probably the neighbors on multiple floors to hear, panting and grinning wolfishly.
They both started giggling.
The younger man brought his enthusiastic grinding down to a slow slow rocking motion and reached over to rub his cum into Derek’s skin, affecting him more than he would’ve imagined. Claimed. Eyes prickling and heart full with a knot that might never go down at this rate, he burrowed one hand into the hair at the back of Stiles’ head and pulled him in for deep, sloppy kiss.
About an hour later they were sprawled across the couch, heads at opposite ends and legs tangled together while watching — what else — that cooking show when Stiles got a couple texts in quick succession. Derek grinned, pretty sure he knew what that was about. Stiles inhaled sharply and then barked out a laugh, sitting up to smack him playfully on the shoulder as more messages arrived.
“Oh my god, Derek. So that’s what you were doing on your phone literally behind my back while we were waiting for your knot to go down. And why you were asking if I had plans with my dad again today. You little sneak, you actually did it!”
Stiles’ laughter turned into an indignant cry when he grabbed the phone and then trapped the struggling human out of arms reach with his legs.
“Keep trying babe. Alpha werewolf, remember.”
Now Stiles sounded like a cat with its tail jammed in a door. Yeah, he’d be paying for this later, but it was so funny right now. The screen wasn’t locked yet so Derek clicked on Messages and pulled up the most recent ones as the last few came through.
From Daddio:
<I’m pretty sure I don’t want to know why Derek Hale just sent me a veritable feast from Sauce & Bone.>
<But I’m going to enjoy the hell out of this for lunch tonight and over the next few days.>
<Definitely beats the turkey & sprout wrap or whatever that Parrish was trying to pawn off on me.>
<Tell him thanks for me.>
<And also that he’s coming over for dinner at the house next Saturday. 6:00pm.>
<And thank you too I guess. Ugh. But hands off my grub!>
<Love you, kiddo.>
Aww. Derek was honestly kind of afraid a bit nervous about meeting the Sheriff, but he liked what he knew of the man so far. And he clearly had him to thank for his favorite human and current hellcat giving him another chance. He supposed he’d have to send Scott something too for the werewolf tips. Derek tossed the phone back to the glaring younger man, but didn't let him up just yet. He waited until after Stiles read the last 3 messages and smiled fondly despite himself.
Of course he was still pounced upon anyway and he resigned himself to his fate, which was apparently an adorably growly Stiles draped on top of him and latched onto his neck like a lamprey, biting and sucking marks onto his skin more intensely than usual. After laying there for a while Derek wrapped his arms around him.
“The night’s still young. You wanna go to Jungle, babe? There might be a really hot dancer there that’s fun and smart and snarky and just amazing in every way.”
Stiles detached from his neck to roll his eyes at Derek, but he couldn’t help the grin and blush that followed. He admired his handiwork for a few moments and then got up.
“Nah, I’m in the mood for staying in. I hear there’s this sweet, geeky, super sexy Alpha werewolf that’s good with his hands who lives around here somewhere. Gonna see if he likes to chase as much as they say.”
And with that Stiles started backing away slowly.
Derek stood up, head tilting involuntarily as Stiles started moving faster and then thankfully turned around so he didn’t trip over something and brain himself. He began following as well. The human then ran for and then up the stairs and he set off after his shrieking prey. As soon as Stiles cleared the last step he leapt and wrapped himself around the younger man and turned to let himself take the brunt of the landing, which was at least on the plush rug.
He rolled them over so that he was on top of Stiles in the dark room, rutting against his ass and firmly, but carefully biting the back of his neck. The heavy scent of arousal and the accompanying whine from his captive made him rumble happily and Derek released his jaws to lave over the skin instead.
Then he mouthed over the juncture between Stiles’ shoulder and neck, setting his teeth there and imagining leaving his mark one day, and the human gasped. Derek stilled for a moment realizing that either the wolf friend told him or he somehow found out another way about what biting there meant. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly before leaving a kiss right over it.
He might not be ready to say it and he wouldn’t assume that Stiles was there yet so soon, but Derek wasn’t going to freak out about him knowing what he was thinking about either. What he hoped for in the future that he could now see for them.
“I’m so glad I met you, Stiles,” he said quietly.
There was an eruption of wiggling beneath him so he raised up enough to let the human turn over.
“Likewise, Derek,” Stiles replied.
Derek couldn’t make out his expression in the scant light reaching them from downstairs, but there was that sweet scent of joy and he saw a shadowy face coming towards, kissing him softly after his lips were located. And then after arms pulled him down that face sank into his throat, moving until Stiles found that same spot and bit down gently, sucking a mark there too. Well then.
Eyes burning red, he flipped his future mate back onto his belly and got ready for what could be Round 3, Round 5 or Round 8 depending on how and from when you counted it. It didn’t matter. If Derek had his way he’d spend the rest of his life working toward Round Infinity.
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