Strawberry Moon - 13/14
Fandom: Teen Wolf
Category: Angst, Romance, Humor
Disclaimer: I don´t own them. Nobody is capable of owning them.
Summary: What happened when Stiles saved Derek once again?
Warnings: M/M, Slash
Feedback: Doesn´t scare me. :)
Released: April 2018
Word Count: 5600
As sure as the sun and moon were rising day by day, and night by night, there was always a dangerous creature lurking to take a big bite out of the people living in Beacon Hills; the next creepy monster jumping out of the dark to make them suffer, and give them nightmares for the rest of their lives.
Bam! The dread doctors had only just been defeated when the Ghost Riders arrived, feeding on the town like vampires, making people disappear, literally erased from existence.
In the midst of that disaster Stiles lost his mind, was crazy enough to declare his love for Lydia. Duh! He didn't lie. He loved Lydia, had always loved her, though not as much as he loved Derek. Neither sharing the whole day with Lydia nor lying in bed at night alone could Stiles stop thinking about Derek, rather was he having exquisite fantasies about a passionate reunion with the sexy beast. Damn you, sourwolf.
His problems shifted as he was taken by the Ghost Riders to a place of hopelessness where time didn't mean anything, where nothing mattered anymore. There he ran into Peter of all werewolves. Seriously? Why not Derek? Why not Cora? Crap! Even Isaac would have been better, but due to their struggle to stay alive he had no choice but to ally with the creep.
The situation turned extremely bad, forcing Scott to take desperate measures by bringing Theo back from wherever he had been to help them in their battle. Stiles didn't like any of that but in the end Scott's crazy plan worked out. The Ghost Riders dissolved into thin air. All the people that had vanished reappeared and Beacon Hills was once more saved from destruction, if not extinction.
In victory mood he and Lydia kissed for the second time in their lives. The kiss was good, though not great, not even close to the sensations he felt kissing Derek; nothing like my heart is beating so fast I can't breathe, or I can't wait to do this over and over again. Well, whatever. Beacon Hills was safe. That mattered. That and the banishment of his dead mom's shadow haunting him.
He didn't feel for Lydia like a boyfriend was supposed to. He loved her with all his heart, but had no desire to smash her against a wall and make her beg for more than vanilla kisses. So what? His ridiculous and weird urges didn't count as much as the safety of his family and friends.
Peter, the bastard, who had redeemed himself due to saving him, and getting burned badly in the process, didn't agree. Peter mocked him for being a coward, for taking the easy way out, instead of going for the real thing.
"Derek is gone," he snapped, frustrated, "and that wasn't my decision."
"Maybe it wasn't Derek's either."
"What do you mean? You know something?"
"Me? Nah. I'm the last one Derek would let in."
Right. Derek didn't get in touch with anyone, and Stiles couldn't wait forever. He was ready to move on. He was ready to let go of all the things and memories he'd suffered through, like the cruel fate of his mom. She wouldn't want him to suffer for eternity but to go and get a life, to do the things he'd wanted to do for a long time, and make peace with the past. His mom, who had loved him very much until the day she got sick, would urge him to go after his dreams.
Though at nights he dug an old picture of Derek out, just to look at it, because he couldn't remember Derek's grumpy face anymore, and that scared him more than anything. He didn't want to forget Derek's face, or Derek in general, not in his dreams, as confusing as they were, not in reality.
Crap! He couldn't deny that although he didn't want to hold on, he couldn't let go either.
He was the first after graduation to leave Beacon Hills and drive off to attend the George Washington University, which offered a pre FBI trainee program at Quantico. The first step to a career as an agent. At least one of his dreams was about to come true.
He gifted his bat to Mason, Liam's best friend, and his Jeep to Scott. He didn't feel as sad as he thought he would be, because the man he couldn't get out of his system was already gone. He and Lydia hadn't made out yet, and he wasn't sure if they ever would. He just knew every time he dared to think about her in that way he froze up. The effort he put into behaving as casually as possible around her was exhausting. He was glad that he could leave and go to Washington, a place far enough away to distance himself and sort out his feelings.
A couple of days later, he had settled in at the dorm, being thrown together with a roomie who was always absent, except at night sleeping. All the better. He wasn't in the mood for making new friends anyway, not at all, he was just looking forward to the upcoming first class. He didn't expect anything but the good old routine of listening, learning, and teachers getting annoyed with him fidgeting through a lesson.
Damn! He thought wrong. The routine first day of his internship turned into hell the second some slide of a guy running through the woods of North Carolina was shown to the class. No ordinary guy, though.
DEREK FUCKING HALE!
He literally spat the drink of water filling his mouth over desks and colleagues. Whoa! Great first impression. They'll love you here. Whatever! He had bigger problems on his hands. His lover was supposed to be a killer hunted by the FBI. A mass murderer. What the actual fuck? How did the idiot get into that? He thought Derek was living safe and sound far far away somewhere in South America, preferably close to his sister Cora. Why was this happening? Why couldn't he have a normal life without supernatural beings like Derek Hale popping up turning his day to shit? Some human serial killers would do. Right. Instead of those, a loony werewolf was ruining his chances of having a normal life, by being once again chased by the law.
He couldn't wait for the lesson to end, in which he learned nothing whatsoever, because his mind was focused solely on Derek. How to help the idiot, no matter he was damn furious with the guy. Why was he doing this anyway? He should let Derek run. He should let him take care of his own mess. That was what Derek was good at, right? Staying hidden, doing everything by himself. Derek didn't need him. Derek didn't want anyone's help. Never did. Hell, yeah. Just let him be.
Yeah, right! The second he found a quiet corner, he fumbled his cell out and called Derek. Not only did he get no answer but no signal at all. Duh! Derek was on the run. That's why he'd never called or texted back in the last couple of months. That's why Stiles had never lost this nagging feeling that something was wrong. He should have trusted his instincts. Derek was out there alone. Hunted. Derek wasn't in possession of a phone. Not a chance to connect with him. Damn you. Okay. Okay. Breathe. What now? Think, damn it. Think, don't waste time being furious. Right. He called Cora. He should have done that the second Derek had stopped texting him.
She picked up at once. "Hey, Stiles. What's up?"
"Hey, is Derek with you?"
"No, sorry, he left weeks ago. I was about to call you anyway, because he hasn't talked to me in some time. Is something wrong? Is he okay?"
"I'm not sure yet," he lied, "let me get back to you as soon as I know more." No matter how mad he was at Derek or how stupidly Derek had behaved, he wouldn't let him down, because Derek Hale was a predator but no killer. Nobody knew that better than Stiles.
He remembered the Derek who dried his tears and comforted him, the cuddly wolf who made him feel the most wonderful sensations, the Derek who was doing everything in his power to save everyone in his pack. Right. It was his duty to get Derek off; preferably in more than one way. Okay. Stop that. Focus. You need a plan, not a sexy scenario of you and Derek making out. You also need time to puzzle out that plan. You can't waste a minute for private matters.
He called his dad saying he wouldn't be coming home for a couple of weekends.
"That's too bad... Lydia will be disappointed," the sheriff said unfazed, as if he'd already known what was coming as the phone rang.
"Tell her I'm sorry. I'll make it up to her."
"Stiles, do you mind me asking; is this about Derek?"
"Uh... well... yeah, kind of. Uh... though not what you think."
"Ah... what might that be, son?"
"Just... oh god... he... we... it's complicated."
"You know, Derek used exactly the same phrase explaining you two to me," the sheriff said calmly.
Stiles could almost hear him shaking his head. "He did?" Is that why you left, huh? Is that why you ran away?
"I don't wanna play the despotic father but how long is this quest for orientation going to take?"
"I don't know. Please, don't tell Scott or the others about Derek. They have their own problems."
"I won't, but to repeat myself; you should at least tell Lydia. She has the right of an explanation, no matter what it is you and Derek are up to."
"I will. Promise."
"Okay, son, be safe.... if you get my meaning."
"Oh... uh... sure thing, dad." He switched his cell off. His dad was right. Lydia didn't deserve to be treated like this. He shouldn't make the same mistake with her he'd made with Malia. Lydia was tough, but also sensitive. Playing her would be more than unfair even though Malia had recovered pretty fast after their breakup. Didn't she have a crush on Theo? Seriously? What was she thinking? If she and Theo would hook up he would... Ah, crap. He would do nothing. Malia could take care of herself. She'd already showed Theo who was on top and he had his hands full with Derek and his mess anyway. So. Think! What can you do? What the hell is possible against the FBI? What is manageable without Lydia's assistance? Uh? Why is that guy up there staring at me? What's his problem? Have I spoken out loud without noticing? Do I look suspicious in any way? Crap! He rushed out of the building hiding away in the hustle and bustle of Washington.
The next couple of nights he couldn't find any sleep. Despite racking his brain constantly he didn't have a single flash of genius concerning Derek's fate. Then one morning he learnt that he was out of time anyway, hearing the big news about the feral mass-murdering unsub being cornered by the FBI in an abandoned factory site. A SWAT assault was planned to take him down. Dead or alive. Holy shit! Dead or Alive. Those words pierced through his heart, and he worried he'd have a panic attack. How he kept his cool and persuaded the team leader to take him, an intern, along on a field OP, he couldn't say. He just dashed ahead, not thinking, similar to the time when he jumped into the pool right after Derek had fallen in.
Actually he got in by sheer dumb luck. In the few days he'd been here one of the younger agents had developed an obvious liking for him. Yeah. The guy who was in charge today was trying to get into his pants. He didn't add fuel to the crush but didn't tell him off either. The troubles waiting for him once Derek was safe and sound, he was sure he could handle. Hadn't he succeeded in handling an Alpha? Hadn't he outplayed the nogitsune as well? Wasn't he the queen, taking care of all kinds of trouble to save the king?
As soon as they had arrived at the factory it was easy to sneak away from the group, and even easier to announce his very presence to Derek. He barged through heaps of broken glass and other garbage, loud enough to rouse every creature, particularly a Beta wolf hiding close by. He shuddered due to a delicate vision of Derek kissing him, while he pushed him into a wall. Holy shit! Did that just happen yesterday or a hundred years ago? Had they really done this and this and...
There. A shadow lurking under a staircase, a familiar shape with blazing blue eyes, was coming right at him. A big, black wolf, the most beautiful creature walking the Earth, the one werewolf he'd hoped to never be parted from. Not after everything they had been through, at least not after making out and confessing his love. "Hey there, big bad wolf. I've heard you're wanted for murder - again."
The wolf growled.
"Donít give me that look, okay. Itís not my fault. Not this time!"
The wolf jumped up at him, putting his paws on his chest.
"Not afraid of you." He patted the plushy fur. Nice!
Derek returned the caress by licking his face.
"Ew. Bad wolf. Down."
The wolf obeyed, sniffing.
"Hey, just kidding." Stiles tickled the pointy ears. "I like you licking me."
The wolf puffed, and then turned around, leading the way.
"Hey, man, slow down." Stiles hurried along, swearing. Derek's speed was hard to keep up with. A short time after zigzagging through rooms and hallways they reached the stairs to a cellar. "I see you are back to creepy homes."
Derek put a paw on his left leg, shaking his head.
"Okay. Fine. I'll just wait here then."
Gracefully the wolf climbed down the stairs. A few minutes later Derek returned in his human form, unfortunately fully dressed. "Stiles. What are you doing here?"
Ah, he's disgruntled. About me. Obviously. "Saving your ass, what else?" He took his backpack off and removed the FBI gear he had brought along. "They are on to you. Take that. We need to hurry."
Derek didn't argue and took the vest.
"How did you know it was me?" Stiles said, reveling in the sight of his lover, the man he hadn't seen since, ah, forever.
Derek snorted. "Your scent is all over the place."
"Aw, that's cute." Yeah, sarcasm is still my only defense. "Hur-"
That's when the shooting started. Peng. Peng. Peng. "Oh my God!" Stiles jumped.
"There he is! I see him! He is monstrous! He's holding someone captive!"
Holy shit! The leader was dumber than he'd figured. He whirled around but didn't get far. "Oooh." A bullet grazed his foot. "Aaa!"
"Move, idiot!" Derek dropped the vest, and pulled him along, almost carrying him.
"Oh god. I'm hurt. My toe. Ah!"
"Be quiet." Derek dragged him down the stairs. The basement was gloomy and littered with all sorts of things, the air was thick and stale. Derek helped him to a window without glass. "Get up there." He lifted Stiles up, both hands on his ass, shoving. "Come on. Step up."
"Hey. That's not okay." Sure it is. Don't kid yourself. He grabbed the edge and pulled himself through the steep exit. He coughed due to the bad air, fought a nasty spider, scratched his hand on the raw wall, and then he scrambled out of the dirty hole and got to his feet. Above were the sky and the stars. His left foot was shoeless, though. Shit. "I lost my shoe."
Derek came out right after him. He pushed him forward. "Run!"
The SWAT team was shouting in anger arriving in the same room they had just crawled out of. A narrow escape.
"He's up there. Get them!" Gunfire ripped through the night, and a few bullets barely missed them. Stiles feared he'd lose his footing and fall down, but Derek dragged him along with bruising strength, his breath tingling in Stiles's ear. He had therefore the most obscene fantasies in the midst of bullets flying and men eager to catch Derek dead or alive. I'm nuts. Definitely nuts.
The sounds of pursuit didn't fade away. They were running for their lives. Shots and screams were close behind, their pursuers practically breathing down their necks. "Not so fast," he whined. His toe was hurting like hell. Hey. He was bleeding. Fuck! He wouldn't make it.
"Shut up!" Derek swept him into his arms.
"Oh my God! Derek!"
"Don't say my name, idiot." Derek pushed through a heavy double door. They had reached the spot where the cars were parked. They passed two guys who'd stayed behind for backup. Even wearing no vest Derek wasn't catching a suspicious eye. With the beard he had grown since the pretty old footage presented to the FBI had been shot, he was just blending in. Well, he had the perfect physique for an FBI man. He was perfect. Stop that, idiot.
"He is wounded," Derek barked. "I need to get him out of here."
"Alright," the younger man agreed. "Help yourself."
"Thanks." Derek hauled Stiles along.
"See what happens when you take a freaking intern along," Stiles heard the older guy say to his partner. Then he looked at his foot and seeing the blood everything went black. He came around again when Derek started the car and drove both of them out of the FBI's reach. He exhaled. Well, all in all a perfect rescue mission, except for the disfigurement of his foot. Not too high a price to pay. I think.
"Are you okay?" Derek said, gripping the wheel.
Stiles finally realized that Derek was driving a Camaro. Wow. Derek had gone back to the basics. "Sure, sourwolf. I'll lose a limb but whatever." He caught Derek rolling his eyes in the rear mirror. "Yeah, well, I'm no wolf, just human as you know." He leaned back and put his injured foot up.
Derek said nothing in return, but his shoulders slumped.
Hours later, the sun was already rising when they checked into a hotel. Stiles hobbled to the bed and sank down, moaning loudly. Don't you think that's a bit too much, even for you?
"Let me see."
Derek ignored him playing the drama queen and pulled the blood-soaked sock off. Closely he inspected the crusted toe. "No damage to the nail or bone. Just a flesh wound."
"Is it still bleeding?"
"Good. I have to go back to the Bureau to avoid suspicion." One foot bare he hobbled to the door.
"You think that's wise? Won't you get into trouble?"
"Nah, I got the team leader wrapped around my little finger."
"Seduced him by mouthing off, I suppose."
"Sure, asshole." Oh, look at that perfect smirk.
"Fine. Get going. Take the car." Derek settled on the comfy bed. "I need to rest anyway."
"I don´t know what you think we would have done otherwise." Holy fuck! He's letting me take the Camaro.
"Don´t you, Mieczyslaw?"
"I told you, don't call me that."
"Why not? Glorious swordfighter is a very suitable name for you. The boy who saved me over and over again. The brave human who held me above the water until he almost drowned himself. The annoying spazz who makes a fuss about a toe." Derek shook his head, smiling.
"Ha Ha!" Stiles would have loved to continue their banter, but he needed to leave. "Oh, I almost forgot. You should call Cora and tell her you're okay. She might be worried about you."
"What?" Derek barked.
Quickly Stiles shut the door from outside. That was hard. He wanted to stay and mount the wolf, seducing him with everything he'd got, bloody toe or not.
Stiles came back a few hours later, though. He'd missed Derek too much to waste an opportunity to share time with him. He wasn't too proud to show his feelings, because pride and happiness didn't go together well.
Derek rolled around lazily, blinking. "How could you do that?"
Stiles shrugged. "I'm an enigma."
"No, tell me. How could you be so stupid as to endanger yourself?"
Ah. "Not as stupid as you. Why didn't you call or text for help?"
"I had no phone."
"That a joke? You could have found a phone if you'd wanted to."
"I didn't want anyone to get involved."
"I'm not anyone!" Stiles stamped his foot and flinched. "Ouch!"
Derek skyrocketed from the bed. "Does it still hurt?"
"What d'you think?"
"Let me see."
Stiles hunched his shoulders, fidgeting. "I'm fine." Oh god, if you touch me, I'll lose it.
Derek eyed him closely, noticing the fresh outfit, including the new sneakers Stiles was wearing. "Nice. A bit gay maybe."
"Hey. I like them."
"I like them fine," Derek murmured, and then he shoved Stiles onto the bed, stripping the shiny shoe and sock off, his touch as tender as a wing beat.
"Ah... oh... no, don't... no touching... oh..."
Derek didn't listen but kneeled down in front of him, inspecting the minor lesion.
"I just need to rest..." All at once he stopped whining.
Derek was licking his toe.
"Holy shit!" He had forgotten how good the wolf's tongue felt, how delicate his healing skills were. The most humiliating and purifying endearment ever; a magic skill that was like art, an addictive art.
Derek looked up to him. "That bad, huh?" His eyes sparkled with mischief.
Gee! He could play that game just as good as Derek. "M-m. Can you make it better?"
"Maybe." Derek bent his head, kissing Stiles's toe, licking around the rim; and then sucking boldly on the tip.
"Ah. Oh my god!" Stiles groaned, feeling the beast awaken. "The big, bad wolf wants to eat me up, doesn't he?"
Derek stopped sucking, eyes glittering, wearing an open and vulnerable expression. "Yep. I'm pretty much sex-starved."
That confession humbled Stiles, almost shamed him. Could this be true? Had Derek been faithful all those months? Had he honored their relationship even though they had been apart for so long? Did he still want him no matter who he was and what he'd done? What about all those things Derek knew nothing about? What about kissing Lydia? What about the blood on his hands? Crap! He pulled his foot from Derek's grip and scrambled away from him. Derek needed to know who he truly was. Derek needed to know what had happened. He and Derek should be honest with each other.
Derek stayed on his knees, looking like a beaten puppy. "Is the pain gone?"
Oh, come on. That's not fair. "Uh... almost... I... we... we need to talk."
"Fine. Talk." Derek stood up and crossed his arms.
Stiles swallowed. Okay. Say it. Just spit it out. "I-I killed a guy."
"What?" Derek's eyes widened and turned a piercing green. "Who?"
"A student. Donovan. He attacked me." He gulped, catching his breath. This was harder than he'd imagined. This is Derek, man. Not a damn jury.
"Was he a werewolf?"
"No. A chimera. He had teeth. He hurt me. He tried to kill me."
"Then it was self-defense." Derek's posture eased off.
"That's what my dad said."
"He is right." Derek sat down at the edge of the bed, leaning into him.
"I know, but... still... I killed him. I wanted you to know." Don't hover like that. I can't think straight having you this close.
"I see. Did you think I'd judge you?"
"N-No." He squirmed. "Just... maybe... you..."
"...wouldn't like you anymore?" Derek snorted. "You're an idiot."
"Thank you," he scoffed. "That makes me feel so much better."
"Stiles. After all we've been through you thought because you killed a guy fighting for your life I would turn my back on you? Do you even know me?"
"Not as much as I'd like to," he whispered, wriggling. Oh, man. I'm getting hard. This is the worst. I am the worst.
"You're right. My fault." Derek put a hand on his shoulder, plucking at Stiles's shirt. "Okay. Get this off, and turn around. Let's get to know each other on a deeper level." He bent down, taking off Stiles's second shoe and sock.
"I like where this is going," he murmured, undressing.
"If I don´t, will I get punished?"
"We'll see." Derek circled his thumbs around Stiles's shoulder blades.
"Oh, Derek." He nestled deeper into the comforting softness of the bed. He didn´t want to think about Ghost Riders or whatever freaking creatures populated Beacon Hills. Not now. Not ever again. "I missed you."
"I'm sorry." Carefully Derek rubbed down Stiles's spine, crawling up and down, over and over again. "I didn't plan to stay away that long."
"Yeah? That's good." Stiles moaned and arched his back. "Ah, that, too. Don't stop."
"I won't." Derek increased the pressure, using both hands now. "Where did he bite you?"
"Donovan? Here." He pointed at his shoulder.
Derek kissed and then licked the spot tenderly. "Better?"
"Mm." He turned around, not minding that Derek couldn't overlook his arousal. "What about here?" He pointed at his belly button.
Derek put the softest kiss at the edge.
"Here." Stiles pointed at his left nipple.
Derek snorted, but sucked the perky show-off into his mouth.
"Oh yeah, like that, just... just more teeth... bite me... I want that... I want you."
"You got me," Derek growled, nibbling.
Those teeth, a bit too sharp, scraping against sensitive skin, that guy ruining him. "Ah....yes..." He writhed, relishing the sensations blazing through his body. Good, so good. "Here." Open-mouthed he pointed at his zipper.
Derek rolled his eyes. "You watch way too many silly movies."
"Hey! Raiders of the Lost Ark is legendary."
Derek was giving him a grin that could only be called feral and went for Stiles's fly teeth first. "I'll show you legendary."
"Oh, baby, I need you to fuck me." He just couldn't help himself. He was begging, right, but this was Derek, the man who knew him better than anyone else, the one who had seen him like no one else. So, why should he hide his feelings? Why should he be shy about his needs?
"I'm familiar with that sensation, yeah." Derek yanked Stiles's pants and shorts down.
"Is that bad? That I still want you? That I'm a horny slut. Are you put off?"
"Bad? Put off?" Derek chuckled. "Nah, but I think we should do something about it."
"I agree. One FBI guy wasn't enough to satisfy my needs."
"Oh, scary beast, what big teeth you have." He howled the last word, because Derek's weight came crashing down on him, and then he was sucking on the hurting toe until Stiles's cries of pain turned into groans of pleasure. "Yeah, baby, oh god, good, so good, but now suck my dick, please."
Derek let go of the properly treated toe and moved up to the throbbing cock. He didn't slow down to take his time, but sucked him in, right down to the balls.
"Holy shit!" Stiles bucked his hips in a frenzy, losing control.
"Mm," Derek mumbled, grabbing his thighs, lapping and sucking noisily at the hard flesh filling his mouth.
Stiles was spreading his legs, feeling his cock swell and his toes bend. "Yes, Derek, yes babe, oh yes..." His mouth fell open, his hands gripped at Derek's shoulders, digging the nails in.
Derek swiped his tongue around the head of Stiles's cock, and the way Derek's beard scraped against the tender skin of his cock and balls made Stiles come undone. He was shaking in Derek's arms, and actual tears were dripping from his eyes. "God, that... oh god... yes... what are you doing to me..."
Derek dug his lips deeper into his lover's shaft, smacking, slurping until he got the desired response. Stiles rolled his hips, slowly at first, and then increased the pace, and just fucked Derek's face. "Oh yes Derek, oh yes, oh Derek." He bucked once more, the pressure unbearable, and bursting apart, he spilled a mix of heat and wetness down his lover's throat. Holy Shit! He sucked a shaky breath through his teeth, and turned boneless.
Derek just swallowed all of his cum, just a few drops trickled from the moist corners of his mouth, running down his chin.
Stiles stared briefly at the bizarre beauty, then he jerked forward in a single smooth motion, kissing Derek's luscious lips. Derek kissed him back plenty, burying one hand in Stiles's hair, and moving the other to cup his ass. Oh, wow. It was almost too much, too warm, too good, but then again it was not. He wanted more. He broke the kiss, licking his lips. "Fuck me."
Breathless Derek nodded, and unfastened his pants, displaying his gorgeous cock. "I want you so much," he whispered, eyes glowing in forest green. "I need to be inside of you."
"Come on then. I want you too. I want you inside of me."
Derek arched an eyebrow, and his lips twitched. "C'mere." Within seconds he glided into Stiles, thrusting deep inside, his intrusion a shock as he took Stiles to the hilt with an ease that was mesmerizing, the hottest thing ever.
"Uuuh," Stiles howled, grabbing Derek's shoulders once more, holding on. The oiled slickness of his hole could only come from himself, and Derek was thrusting his hips and at the same time making his fingers wet with the juices between his thrusts. "Hit me baby, hit me. Oh yes, like that." He'd missed this, being held down by Derek, being taken like a lamb slaughtered by the wolf.
Derek growled and increased the speed, the muscles of his body rippling. In a slick move he seized Stiles's hips, twisted, fucking twisted him close, and put his face to Stiles's cheek, the drag of his beard sending sparks right down to his freaking toes.
"God, Derek," he yowled, biting into the muscled shoulder of his lover, wishing for the flesh to rend and tear. His whines turned into grunts as memories of the first, second, tenth time they'd done this flashed through his mind. All those treasured memories of hiding and making out, being underage, being jailbait, as he was running with a wolf. "Ah... yes... yes... that's it... oh." He wrapped his legs around Derek's firm ass, his muscles tightened, and his head lolled back. "Holy fuck!"
Derek pounded into him, hitting his prostate and bringing him to the edge at a magical speed, but everything about this was fucking magical. He was being fucked by a man who could turn into a wolf. He was being fucked by an animal. He was being devoured. "Oh sourwolf... oh baby... do the wolf...come on...do it for me... make me yours... make me come..." Derek didn't need to shift to finish strong, though. Stiles's second orgasm hit him like wildfire, hot and rash, and then burning through him in a bittersweet afterglow.
"Oh fuck... that was... was..." He wiped his eyes, wriggled his toes, and put a hand to his trembling lips.
Derek pulled out of him and came all over him, howling, eyes as blue as the sea. He didn't leave it at that but reached down rubbing his jizz into the skin of Stiles's chest, and then he licked his fingers clean, one by one, with a lazy, smug look on his face.
"Okay," Stiles said, and bit his lip, and then he started crying.
Derek pulled him close and cradled him like a child, murmuring silly endearments. "What is it now?" he said, licking the tears off Stiles's flushed face. "Did I hurt you?"
"When will you leave?"
"Huh? Not at all."
"So am I." Derek kissed him on the lips. "As serious as I've never been about anything in my life." He kissed Stiles again, giving him sweet, lingering caresses, as well as pressing his barely flagging hard-on into Stiles's hip.
What the fuck, man. "Admit it. Did you forget about me?"
"Nah, just was too busy running."
"If you did, not your fault, just the Ghost Riders, you know."
"What are you talking about?"
"Those creeps, they came to Beacon Hills and made people forget about people they knew very well. So, I thought, maybe..."
"I didn't forget about you. I couldn't."
"Okay." As long as Derek was this close he couldn't focus anyway.
"Look at me."
Stiles did and held his breath.
Derek's expression was grim. "I - did - not - forget - you." He marked every syllable with a lingering soft kiss.
"Nevermind." Overjoyed, Stiles kissed him too, arching into him, rubbing off on him. Oh, hell. I'm already painfully hard again. Derek fucking sourwolf Hale has that effect. There is no cure to prevent it.
Derek smirked. "So annoying, this longing, don't you think?"
"Uh...uh." Screw coyness. Screw him. Take control. He rose gracefully, rubbing himself with delicate cum-slick fingers.
Derek gaped, his green eyes were turning blue again.
"We should do something about it." Stretching he mounted Derek, prepping him up. "That's why I'm gonna fuck you now."
The wolf howled in bliss, shifting underneath him.
"Yeah, baby." Oh, you beast, you beautiful creature. I adore you.