Cry for the Moon - 1/?
Fandom: Teen Wolf
Category: Angst, Romance, Humor, Fluff
Disclaimer: I don´t own them. They belong to each other.
Summary: What happened the night after the hours in the pool?
Warnings: M/M, Slash
Feedback: Doesn´t scare me.
Released: February 2013
Word Count: 1905
Note: Happy Birthday, Steffi
Stiles groaned. He was done, utterly done. For hours he was unable to go to sleep. No matter how exhausted he felt and how the blanket clung to his body, he couldn´t find any rest. The dazzling moonlight attacking his eyes didn´t help the cause any more than the fact that he was still freezing his ass off, no matter how hot his shower had been. He felt like he was still trapped in the pool, fighting for his life. A fight not only for himself. Holy God. Don´t think about that anymore. Forget it. Forget about that freaking werewolf. Unluckily the images of the nightmarish day were still fresh in his mind, as the overwhelming sensations were still fresh in his heart. Crap. He thrashed around in the bed like he had thrashed around in the pool a few hours before, treading the blanket like he had been treading the water. Desperate. Scared. Death-defying. Keeping Derek and himself afloat. Not letting him go. The pain in his chest. The weight of Derek´s harsh words. No. I don´t trust you. His legs so heavy, his heartbeat racing like he was hunted. So cold. The phone. Scott. Knocking Derek down. Seeing him sinking to the ground. Drowning. Needing him. "God," he mumbled, "let go. Sleep." But his body kept floating above the darkness. Heavy. Beaten. Torn. But unwilling to go under. And you don´t trust me.
"I tried that too. Didn´t work," a gruff, all too familiar voice interrupted his struggle for a little bit of peace.
He jerked up and around, scanning the room frantically, finding an all too familiar shape sitting in the chair at his desk. The moonlight streaming through the open window cast his face in menacing shadows. "What do you want now, huh? I´ve had enough of you for a lifetime."
Derek´s eyes gleamed reddish, but only for a second. "Can´t sleep."
"So?" Stiles snapped further at him. "Not my problem, dude."
"Neither can you."
"I´m not ready to give up trying."
"My house is a dump. I´m cold," Derek rasped out.
"Oh come on," Stiles scoffed. "You´re giving off heat like a furnace."
"Not tonight." Derek just shrugged, a muscle twitched in his jaw. "The hours in the pool cooled me down. I won´t bite, okay? Your house, your rules."
"Adorable." Stiles shivered and wrapped the blanket tighter around his body. So cold. "Even so I won´t let you sleep in my bed."
"I´ll sleep in the chair."
"Oh dear God, are you even listening to yourself? Stop being creeper wolf," Stiles snorted, shivering a good deal more.
Derek´s lips twitched. "What´s the problem? Weren´t we like pack in the pool?"
Stiles cringed. "I don´t belong to your pack."
Derek showed a wolfish grin. "That bothers you?"
"Not at all." Stiles gulped. Despite all the hours drenched in cold water his mouth was dry.
"Why should I trust you?" Stiles continued defying him. "Certainly you´ll rip out my throat with your teeth as soon as I´m asleep."
Derek slumped deeper into the chair, making himself more comfortable. "Look, you can argue as long as you want but no matter what you say, I won´t leave."
"Fine. Whatever. Suit yourself. I´m done talking to you." He dropped back on the bed, pouting, and heard a strange sound. Did Derek just chuckle? No way. No. He didn´t. He was too much of a big bad grumpy wolf.
"You still smell like chlorine."
"Nothing gets past those werewolf senses, huh?" Stiles snapped, and put the blanket over his face. Stupid sourwolf. I´m not afraid of you. I´m so not buying your threats anymore. Not after what happened today. Unconsciously, he continued shifting on the bed, turning one way and then the other.
"Stiles." A low rumble.
"Okay, okay." He sighed and focused on the distinct breathing of Derek which became surprisingly annoyingly soothing after a certain time. Almost like a unique lullaby. Yet he wasn´t ready to give up so easily. Hey? Why are you even here? Really? Why? You don´t trust me, right? So what is it? Beat by beat, his heartbeat slowed down, his body went slack, and under the watchful green gaze of a werewolf he was finally falling asleep like a charm.
Sensing the deed was half-finished Derek huffed a relieved sigh, and getting rid of his jacket and boots, he moved to the bed, leaning over the boy. He must be careful. Stiles would freak out guessing his intentions. Stiles smelled like a lot of other things than chlorine. Fear. Exhaustion. Coldness. And a little bit like Derek. No surprise after they had clung to each other for hours in the pool. Inhaling the scent, which sparked him with affection, Derek touched Stiles´s pale face. The boy´s skin was too cold to be healthy, going along with breathing that sounded more like restless gasping. He had to do this. Slipping under the blanket, he nestled his face into the nape of Stiles´s neck, puffing hotly against the coldness. Stiles twitched slightly but didn´t wake up, while his breathing changed to a softer and more even sound, and the condition of his skin changed tangibly, growing warmer. "I should have done this hours ago," Derek mumbled against the pulse at Stiles´s neck. The boy moaned and turned trustingly closer to him, welcoming the unexpected comfort. Derek growled softly and pulled Stiles to him. Maybe now he´d be able to sleep as well. Maybe this day of horror was finally over. Just when the moon vanished behind a wall of clouds, he joined Stiles, sinking into merciful oblivion at last.
Not until the break of dawn Derek was startled awake by the constant shifting and murmuring coming from Stiles. The boy was lazily moving his hips, humping against Derek´s body, moaning and whimpering. "...oh...come on...please..."
"You gotta be kidding me," Derek breathed, slightly uneasy but also amused. Well. Sixteen. Wet dreams. Just like it is.
"...please..." Stiles whined. "...sourwolf..."
Derek´s amusement changed rapidly into a sensation much more dangerous. "Insufferable boy," he swore under his breath, while he struggled against wolfing out, taking now and here what he´d wanted for some time. No. Derek snarled violently and pushed his wolf back in. He wouldn´t do this to Stiles, ravishing him while he was this vulnerable. Yet he couldn´t help licking a long soft curve along Stiles´s jaw, inhaling his scent once more, like a treasure he needed to take along. "I thought you hated me." He gave a low and desperate sigh and bit the tender earlobe like a promise for further actions in an unknown future. Finally he wriggled out of Stiles´s grip, which wasn´t easy without waking him up, because the boy held on so tightly. "Trust me," Stiles slurred, mournful, maybe because of the sudden loss of warmth and comfort.
"I do," Derek confessed quietly, puzzled by himself. For seconds he couldn´t tear his eyes off Stiles, who was making out with the blanket, sighing Derek´s name like the sweetest sentiment in the world. That image matched with those sounds in mind, he slipped into jacket and boots, and jumped out the window like a flushed animal. Stiles would never know he had seen him like this. This was for the best. For both of them.
The first light of day touched the horizon, as he strolled down the street, feeling like the day he had been shot with wolf´s bane. "What the hell." Life would be so much easier if you hated me, ridiculous idiot. I don´t need more problems in my life. Or more tragedy. Making out with a sixteen year old wouldn´t be wise. A boy who was defying him all the time, no matter that Derek was older, stronger and a werewolf. For fuck´s sake. He wouldn´t mind teaching Stiles all there is to know. He wouldn´t mind calling him his mate. Yeah, not the first time I made a bad choice. Derek barked a sudden laugh, sharp and raw.
Since the day Stiles had been pimping him out to his friend he was fantasizing about taking him. Since the moment he had been smashing him into the wall and this boy was still talking back to him, he couldn´t stop thinking about teaching him a lesson. Worse, he couldn´t stop thinking about fucking that cheeky bastard into the ground. Many nights he had jerked off while just imagining those glossy, busy lips being wrapped around his cock. Did Stiles even know how often he was tempted to lick him like he had a few minutes ago? Did he even know how much he wanted to give him the bite? He hated himself for feeling that way. He had kept his urges under control knowing that Stiles despised him. Yeah, right. And now this moment of revelation. Stiles having wet dreams about him. Stiles wanting him. Shit! Could his life even be more fucked up? Stiles wanting him was such a turn-on, making Derek want him more, making him suffer for even considering claiming him. "You´re one hell of a...I don´t even know what you are." He just knew he needed to stay away from Stiles. Not cross his path ever again. That was for the best. Preferably forever.
The whole morning Stiles had been shuffling and shifting around restlessly in class.
"What´s the matter with you?" Allison asked finally. "Is it because of what happened with the kanima?"
"No." Fervently Stiles kept plucking at his earlobe.
"What is it then?"
"My ear. The stupid thing hasn´t stopped tickling all day. So gross."
"Let me take a look." Closely Allison inspected his ear. "Um...well...there is some sort of a mark visible."
"Mark? What mark? What does it look like?"
"Like someone bit you."
"What?" His mouth fell open, while his hand flew up, covering his ear quickly as if someone had accused him of a crime. Just now he remembered last night´s very vivid and enjoyable dream. Derek. Lying in bed with him. Touching. Licking. Growling. Stiles had been feeling hot and horny when he woke up in the morning, and had come minutes later. He'd been slightly ashamed about the nature of the dream, but it had been just a dream, right? "How in the holy hell did that happen?"
"MR. STILINSKI!" Harris roared.
Stiles silenced and hunched over the desk. Allison did the same. The subject of Stiles´s bite was dropped and luckily never mentioned again later. Allison was just too involved in her own problems with Scott.
Stiles kept his hand over his ear until the bell announced the break, which earned him a lot of amused looks from his classmates and killing glances from Harris. In the restrooms he inspected his ear intensely. There was just a hint of teeth, barely a graze, but still.... You...creeper wolf. What did you do? And why? What´s fucking wrong with you? Sudden warmth spread from his neck over his chest down to his belly and even... Oh my God. He stifled a moan. And what´s wrong with me, huh? Why do I feel this way because of a simple graze? Stiles stared at his reflection in the mirror until the bell ordered him to go back to class.
By night time, the tickling had subsided to a light and strangely pleasant burning. Stiles slept like a log. He was dreaming again.
In the distance a wolf was howling at the moon.