Teen Wolf Big Bang: Sweetness (2/4)
When Scott finally gets up the courage to do something, all he ends up doing is writing a text to Isaac saying to meet him at the vet. It’s only after he sends it that he remembers being there with him when they were sixteen. A lot of important things had happened at the clinic over the years Deaton had run it. Scott hopes he’s half as good at handling just the medical aspect as Deaton had been.
Once the other beta arrives, Scott is uncertain of what to say to him. “You know that…uh. What you said.” Scott’s speech skills are unimpressive, to say the least.
The blonde raises an eyebrow, lips quirking, “Are you saying you like me?” Scott’s nod is enough to make the beta feel like his chest is about to burst, but he fights through it
Isaac smiles at him shyly, pressing his fingers to the metal examination table. He hasn’t been able to open up to anyone since before Scott left and once he had, he’d been certain Scott would leave again. Not town, no, but the pack. There would have to be reason for that and Isaac had a feeling Allison would have something to do with it, but…
Scott’s big brown eyes are concerned, nervous, but there’s a smile responding to his own tugging at the other man’s lips. He hears Scott’s heartbeat speed up, knowing his must be doing the same. He leans over and waits for an indication Scott might want what he does.
The sound of Scott’s heart is thundering in his ears now, the other wolf’s expression uncertain, and he presses himself a bit farther. Scott’s body moves as if he has no control over it, drawn forward, and he rests his forehead against Isaac’s, a line of warmth down to the tip of his nose and a hot puff of breath mingling with his own. Isaac nuzzles into him, shifting, nosing his cheek, but Scott turns his head, meeting Isaac’s and the kiss is almost a surprise. His eyes slip closed and after the second of shock passes, so do Isaac’s.
It’s tentative, explorative, and has just that hint of fang that changes it from the thousands or more kisses he’s shared with Allison. Not to mention that Isaac isn’t as sure as she had always been with him, scared to take more than he’s allowed.
Isaac pulls away first, blushing. "Scott," he says, and he wants to bring back that confident persona he's liked wearing since he was turned, but Scott already knows that shy, sad person he still is inside. "You, uh, doing anything later?" He's been looking down since the kiss. The table with its warped reflections holds no judgment. His words were supposed to sound lecherous, but his anxiety bleeds through. He dares to glance up, biting his lip.
"Yeah," Scott says automatically. Isaac's fingertips press on the table, about to push himself away and Scott could hit his own head. "No. Uh, I mean no. I just need to--" He gestures around, "To clean up here, organize a few things, and..." He hesitates. "Um. Can you meet me at my house in..." He checks the time on his cell phone. "An hour?"
Isaac nods, "Sure. We can...figure it out then."
It's one of those conversations filled with long pauses and uncertainty, but the awkwardness is faint with such high amounts of anticipation.
~
Scott locks the door behind Deaton, happy to see that the man thinks well of him, but unsure what to make of his advice. He had been waiting for Isaac to leave before making himself known. Alan Deaton was an understanding man and a great veterinarian, but he didn't want Scott to get involved in anything he hadn't thought through. Still, he was unwilling to tell Scott much other than to be careful, that he might have a harder time keeping control with another wolf.
Scott goes to the back room and organizes things in his area to his liking. He sighs. Things were starting to go a very different direction than he had expected them to when he was sixteen, but when does a teenage reall know what’s best?
He cleans and disinfects the table, the tools. There’s a knock on the door. Scott knows to be cautious when answering the door here, with all that’s happened, but he can only hear breathing, a heartbeat. He inhales deeply.
Allison.
His brows furrow in confusion but he goes to the door to see her there, biting her lip. There’s a rush of emotion at the sight and his gut clenches. He closes his eyes for the second it takes to unlock the door and swing it open. He remembers Isaac pulling back from their kiss, eyes blinking open, bright and searching.
He smiles at her. “Allison.” The surprise is clear in his face, his voice. “What are you doing here?” He just stands there a moment, watching her eyes flicker past him and back, and he remembers his manners, ushering her inside.
She tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, “Hey.” She steps in, shoulders hunched, “Sorry for dropping by like this. I know we haven’t been--” She pauses, turning to him, hair flipping as perfectly as it always had. “Hi,” she says again, more confidently, smiling that brilliant smile of hers. “I just…figure this is only as awkward as we make it.” She shifts her weight between her feet.
Scott laughs, but he’s so nervous his wolf is beginning to claw at his subconscious, “Yeah.”
“I miss you,” Allison admits and it’s as if the world has gone completely silent. She clears her throat, wandering around the room. She examines the various medical instruments, mouth downturned.
“Allison.” Scott swallows and Allison turns her head to the side, glancing at him while faking nonchalance, “I-- I miss you, too.” It comes out so earnestly--it is, after all, the truth. He’d still do his best to protect her, but…there was Isaac. He doesn’t know if he should tell her that or not, he’s not even sure what exactly is happening between himself and Isaac, but it definitely feels lik something.
Against his will, a flash of all the scratches in that box in the Laheys’ basement comes to him. He’d had Allison lock him in there for her protection, felt the pain and fear soaked into that box, the smell of blood, o Isaac’s lood.
He doesn’t tell her, the words catching in his throat.
Allison spins on her heel, places a hand on his chest and kiss on his cheek as she walks past him. "Anyway, it was good seeing you. Maybe we can go out sometime." She swallows, "You know, as friends." She flashes him that big, bright smile again and disappears out to the front.
He doesn't follow, but he hears the door fall closed behind her. Her heartbeat had sped up when she had suggested seeing him. He knew she still cared about him, as he did for her, but not how much. He had sort of thought anything happening between them again was unlikely, or, at the very least, impermanent. If he could've settled down with her back when he was sixteen, he would have. He would've--and had, but no one should trust a teenager--promised his life to her. He wanted to be with her forever, and she had told him she felt the same. He hadn't thought those feelings would ever change, that there ever could be anyone else.
Scott sighs. He can still smell her, the scent lingering around the place, different from its normal smells. He can smell Isaac, too. He closes his eyes, remembers the other wolf's nervousness. He can feel himself smiling. Yes, maybe that's where he should be.
~
Lydia watches as Allison approaches from the entrance of the bar, impatient to discuss anything even close to gossip. "So," she greets cheerily as Allison perches herself on the stool beside her, "How did the whole Scott thing go?" She waves her hand for emphasis, almost dismissively, as if she didn't want to know and she was doing Allison a favor by asking.
The brunette frowned, "Good... I guess. I mean, he seemed a little off." She flags down the bartender. "Like maybe he was hiding something? I don't know. Maybe he just didn't want to see me."
"Well, you did break up with him. For what? The hundredth time," she smiles meanly and Allison's shoulders slump a bit. "But you're gorgeous and he'd be stupid not to want you back anyway," Lydia adds, snapping her fingers as the bartender fails to immediately come to their service. "Vodka martini. No olive," she snaps, her eyes narrowing, and flaps a twenty dollar bill towards him. "Allison?" she prompts.
"Uh." Allison looks around, searching for some kind of inspiration. "Something fruity?" she suggests uncertainly.
Lydia rolls her eyes, "She'll have a gin and tonic."
"Lydia, I don't even like gin," Allison whispers loudly as the bartender--his nametag says "Steve"--turns away.
"Then be more decisive," Lydia retorts casually, throwing another smile to her best friend. "What do you usually get?"
"The first thing I see on the menu," Allison admits with a small shrug
"Ugh." She puts the twenty down on the bar as Steve hands them their drinks. She takes a sip and smiles in approval. "Maybe there's a large tip in your future after all." The bartender lifts an eyebrow, but attempts a smile. He does want the tip, after all. "Anyway, I don't know why you're still so hung up on Scott when there are so many more adorable fish in the sea, if puppy is what you're looking for." She raises her eyebrows, tilting her head towards a handsome young man in the back. "In the less literal sense of the word," she adds, drinking a little more.
"You are so obvious." Allison quirks her lips and looks at Lydia like she's crazy, but still gives the guy a once over. "He is cute, though."
"Want me to go talk you up? I could tell him about our lesbian experimental phase," she says, checking herself or her possible target in her makeup mirror. Allison isn't quite sure which.
The brunette blushes even as she scoffs, rolling her eyes.
~
Scott is late for meeting Isaac, forcing the other man to make small talk with his mom as he runs into the shower and scrubs himself clean as quickly as possible, trying not to notice how good Isaac smells as he explains himself and heads upstairs.
He emerges from the shower, dresses with some hesitation, and heads downstairs only to find that Isaac has already found something for them to do.
They head to the drive-ins knowing it’ll be entertaining. There’s an older werewolf movie playing in a double feature with a new one in honor of the upcoming Halloween.
Scott laughs as the man on screen undergoes a mass of special effects to turn him into a “monster.” The actor mimes a howl as the sound effect is played and Isaac imitates it playfully next to him. The screen’s wolf goes after a woman who screams, hand clutched over her mouth, and Isaac offers the popcorn to Scott as he speaks for the character, “‘Honey, did you forget to shave?’” One eyebrow is raised and he’s leaning in close.
“It is pretty scary,” Scott tells him, smile twitching at the corner of his mouth.
Isaac sobers, “You’re right. That special effects job is downright terrifying.” He tilts his head, watching the screen silently, “I don’t look like that, do I?” He’s half-joking, but there’s a hint of sincerity underneath his light tone.
Scott scrunches up his face, thinking. “I can’t really remember what you look like as a wolf,” he admits.
Isaac closes his eyes and breathes out a long breath, fingers flexing. The hair slowly growing around his sideburns, teeth elongating into fangs, fingernails turning to claws, ears lengthening to points… He opens his eyes, golden irises meeting Scott’s brown.
Studying him, Scott is still for a moment, long enough for Isaac to squirm a little, feeling uncomfortable under such close scrutiny. He starts to turn back, closing his eyes, when he feels a hand on his cheek. He leans into it.
Scott sees his features turn fully human again, blue eyes slowly sliding open to meet his. “You’re beautiful. Like that or not.” He grimaces at himself, “That probably sounded pretty lame.”
“A little,” Isaac concedes. “But it was…sweet.” He smiles, a hand tracing the seam of Scott’s shirt on the side, fingers gripping lightly. “I’m assuming your instincts can tell you the same as mine,” the blonde says, insinuating himself closer to Scott, movie almost forgotten as the sounds continue through the radio.
As words fail him, Scott instead nods, happy he remembered to undo his seatbelt when they got there. He’d only ever come here once with Allison and it had gotten awkward when the thing had started cutting into his chest.
In the blink of an eye, Isaac is practically on him, mouth devouring his. His lips part and Isaac’s tongue delves in, seeking his. He groans into it before he can even realize what’s happening, hands splitting themselves between Isaac’s neck and his side, sliding under the other wolf’s shirt. Isaac is gripping his shirt and Scott can hear as claws tear the fabric. Isaac breaks the kiss, fumbling under the driver’s seat until it slides all the way back, crawling into Scott’s lap.
Scott has a second to breathe and Isaac is on him again, body hot against his, a pleasant weight straddling his lap. Perhaps because it’s been a while or maybe just the enthusiasm of the other beta, but Scott is hard. The blonde is making little noises, rubbing himself against Scott’s growing erection.
“You can fuck me, if you want,” Isaac pants, pressing his temple to Scott’s.
Scott’s brain nearly short-circuits and he’s already going through all the ways of getting their clothes off as soon as he can before the rest of his mind can catch up. Isaac is fumbling with the button of his jeans and Scott places a hand over his, stilling it. The blonde looks at him questioningly, lips slightly swollen and red. “Wait,” Scott says, regretting it even as he does.
Isaac pulls back, “But--”
“We don’t have to do this now, you know,” the brunette tells him. Big, earnest eyes stare into Isaac’s as they fill with confusion. The other man looks as if he’s been rejected, shifting to return to his own seat. Scott grabs his hips and Isaac looks from the hands to Scott’s face.
The blonde opens his mouth to speak, uncertainty coloring his features.
“I like you,” Scott says, glancing down as he does. “A lot,” his eyes meet Isaac’s again. He listens to Isaac’s breathing, his heartbeat. His mouth quirks back up into a smile and then Isaac is kissing him again.
His hands slide down instinctively from Isaac’s hips to his ass. Isaac moans into his mouth, grinding against what had once been getting less hard. Isaac slides a hand between them, cupping Scott’s erection through his jeans. He rests his forehead against Scott’s, blonde curls squished against him. Scott’s breathing is harsh as Isaac squeezes ever so lightly. “You sure?” he breathes.
Scott hates himself for doing it, but he nods. Isaac undoes his button and zipper in one quick, skilled motion. “What are you--”
“You’re really nice, Scott,” Isaac says with a small grin. He grips the other man’s cock, stroking it slowly and Scott has to resist clawing the seats. “Absolutely fucking sure?” he asks again, looking down and back up again.
Scott stares at him, just stares. His eyes are glowing gold and his want is so strong it threatens to consume him. “Yes,” he grits out, even if it has a hint of a whine to it. He undoes Isaac’s pants, but he’s never been with another guy before. He’s only kissed two girls that weren’t Allison and that was about as far as it had ever gone.
Sensing his nerves, Isaac chuckles, “You don’t have to do anything.”
“Yes, I do,” Scott says and Isaac’s brows furrow. “I want to. I just-- I’ve never…touched a, you know, guy,” he explains.
Isaac places a hand over where Scott’s is fumbling, “Here. Let me.” He pulls his own cock free and shifts his hips until he can press their two lengths against each other. Scott can feel the heat against him. Directing the other beta, Isaac begins to stroke, Scott’s hand moving with his. “Fuck,” he swears, thumb ghosting over the head of Scott’s dick.
Scott’s eyes squeeze closed, mouth hanging open, and he does his best to keep up with Isaac. He isn’t sure what he’s doing other than trying to simulate what he does to himself on a broader scale. It’s a slightly strange combination of heat and friction but it feels good. He pushes his hips up into it and feels Isaac move against him. “Isaac,” he says hoarsely.
Isaac lets out a breathless sound somewhere between a laugh and a grunt, “Next time, you’re gonna have to fuck me.” He uses a free hand to tilt Scott’s chin up, press his mouth to the other beta’s. It’s messy, too chaotic to be considered a proper kiss, fangs clacking together and nicking lips that happen to get their way. The smell and taste of blood only intensifies the pleasure and even though Scott’s hand stutters, Isaac’s keeps going--a little faster, squeezing a little harder.
Scott pants against Isaac’s mouth. The blonde’s heartbeat is so rapid, so loud in his ears, but it’s drowned out when the other beta moans, and Scott grips Isaac’s wrist, “I’m--”
Isaac covers his mouth with his own, swallowing down the noises Scott makes as he comes. In another couple of strokes, he’s following.
Both struggling to catch their breath, they begin to hear the radio again, the sounds of the snarling on-screen werewolf. The windows of the car are steamed, nothing but blurry light visible through them. Isaac pulls Scott’s ruined shirt off of him and tosses it in the back, rummages around until he finds a sweatshirt on the floor, handing it to the other man.
“Was that illegal?” Scott asks, his dick still out.
Isaac hums, shucking his own shirt, “Probably.” He slides back into the passenger’s seat, but leans down into Scott’s lap, sucking his softening cock into his mouth, his tongue then trailing across the come he finds there and on Scott’s abdomen.
He pulls back, tucks himself in as Scott pulls on the sweatshirt and looks for his own. He’s just zipping it up when there’s a tap on the window.
Attempting to compose himself, Scott rolls it down to find himself face to face with Sheriff Stilinski.
“Boys,” the sheriff says, raising his eyebrows.
“Mr. Stilinski,” Scott greets quickly.
“Sheriff,” Stiles’s dad corrects.
~
“We…well…” Scott blushes fiercely. Stiles is hi best frien though. He needs to talk about it wit someone. He inhales a deep breath and scratches at the back of his neck, eyes unable to meet his friend’s. “We…” He fumbles over the words he should say. “You know,” he ends up saying, like an embarrassed teenager.
“Oh. Oh!” Stiles’s face goes through several exaggerated expressions before he grins, but speaks almost nonchalantly, “Did you knot him?”
“That’s not a real thing, Stiles!” Derek calls from the other side of the house and Stiles grins even wider, almost maniacal.
Scott looks between where Derek is--although even werewolf senses didn’t give him the ability to see through walls--and back at Stiles in confusion. He knows what it is. He studied animal biology, after all, but… “Wh- what?” he stutters and the word comes out too loud and slightly flabbergasted.
Stiles waves his hand in Derek’s direction dismissively and lowers his voice, not that Derek can’t still hear him, “I know, I know. I just say it to mess with him. And I maybe--jus maybe--wrote about it in one of my books Possibly o piss Derek off. Just a little.” He grimaces, “Peter seemed to like it though. He keeps…winking t me. And emailing me suggestions.” Letting a shudder pass, he rocks on his heels and leans his elbows on the counter, propping his head up on his hands, “So…you and Isaac?”
Scott nods, ruffling a hand through his hair, “Yeah.” It didn’t matter how nervous he was about the whole thing, how weird it was, how vulnerable Allison had been with him just yesterday--just before he and Isaac… Isaac. He smiles. He can’t help himself.
Stiles takes one look at Scott’s dopey expression and straightens up again, just to whack Scott on the side of the head like the old days. “Oh, god Please on’t tell me this is gonna be like when we were sixteen and you me Allison. I d not eed to hear about how pretty Isaac is or the too exact and extremely creepy description of his eye color, alright?”
“They’re blue, but not like--”
Stiles holds up a hand, “Hey! What did I just say?”
Scott smiles and Stiles returns it.
The human claps his friend on the shoulder, “I’m happy for you, man.” His smile falters, “And Isaac. God, that kid needs to catch a break.”
“He’s older than you,” Scott says, raising an eyebrow.
Stiles shrugs.
~
Scott calls Isaac at least five times every night. Isaac actually likes it.
~
Stiles gets the call while he’s at the sex shop. Erica gives him a look, eyebrows raised, and tilts her head toward the back room. He nods at her and mouths his thanks before ducking through the doorway behind her.
He clears his throat, hits the little green phone on his screen to pick up, and ends up holding his breath another couple of seconds, heart in his throat, before he speaks, “Hello?”
Erica is listening to his call and she’s sure he knows she is, but with her concentration elsewhere, she isn’t properly intimidating the customers. A man comes up to her, coughing into his hand nervously, and she turns such a hard glare on him, he chokes. She hears Stiles’s excitement, his heart pounding, his babbled gratitude, and smiles softly. Unfortunately, this gives the customer the wrong impression--you know, the one where he finds her approachable--and holds up one of Stiles’s books. The cover depicts a bare back being clutched by a clawed hand.
“Is, uh, is this any good?” He shifts in place, eyes darting to her and away again. He looks about ready to make a run for it
Erica smirks, “Ohhh, yeah.” She plucks another from beneath the counter--bodies in a twisting embrace, the vague promise of flesh on flesh, just enough to torment the imagination. “You should check out the newest in the series. It’s my favorite,” she practically purrs. “Or, you know, you could pick up the whole set.” She’s already heard the good news, so she might as well charm a larger sale out of the customer who had s rudely--it was a relative term, after all--prevented her from bounding into the back, lifting up her alpha’s mate, and spinning him around in all her glee. Then, maybe punching him for not telling her what he and Derek were up to.
Stiles hovers in the doorway, playing with his phone in his hands, watching as Erica proceeds to sell all of his works to a guy who looks on the borderline of wary and excited as she packs them all up for him.
Formalities over and money in hand, Erica lets out a low growl--the kind people only seem to notice instinctively--and the man practically runs out the door, nearly dropping his bag and scrabbling to pick it up as he continues his beeline for the door.
“Thank you and have a nice day!” Erica calls as the door falls shut. She turns to Stiles, grinning. “Someone’s been keeping things from the rest of the pack, hasn’t he?” She pouts, but can only hold it for a second before she’s laughing and hugging him up off the floor. She’s squeezing him so hard he starts hitting her back and shoulders, one hand still clutching his phone.
“Breathing,” Stiles chokes, but he’s laughing, too.
She plops him back down and squeals at him.
Stiles puts his hands to his ears, “Jesus.” He’s quiet a moment, catching his breath. Then, “Shit, I’m gonna be a dad.” He holds up his hands preventatively as Erica looks like she’s about to leap onto him again.
“Congrats,” she says, calmer now. She’s still smiling, but it’s more genuine, not the huge, excited grin it started out as.
“Thanks, I-- I gotta go tell Derek.” He rubs a hand over his head.
"You're going to fuck," Erica says bluntly, an eyebrow lifted and a knowing smirk.
Stiles lets out another sound like a giggle, jingling his keys. "Yeah, of course we are." He almost gives her a disbelieving look for thinking he’d deny it.
“Have fun,” Erica teases and Stiles waves a dismissive hand at her. “Hey, you might not be able to once that kiddie--or should I say puppy--moves into your lives. Depending on how old she is, you might be changing diapers and rocking cradles for a while.”
Stiles smile starts to turn before he shakes it off, “Shut up, Erica. I’ll see you later. Full moon on Wednesday.”
She nods, “I’ll say goodbye to you and your freedom then.”
He ignores her, heading to his car. The drive back to the Hale house feels both excruciatingly long and like it took no time at all. Peter’s car is there and he frowns. He doesn’t want to deal with crazy uncles when he should be relaying exciting news to his extremely attractive boyfriend and reaping his just reward as messenger of such.
Stiles opens the door to his house, thinks about just shouting, but instead taking a second to listen, locates his mate and the ex-alpha, and storms into the room. He points to Peter, then back to the front door as he speaks, “You, out.”
“Not happy to see me?” Peter pouts and Stiles steadies a glare at him.
The two are locked in a silent staring match for only a few seconds before Stiles turns his attention to his mate, “Derek.”
Seeming to understand Stiles without further explanation, Derek addresses his uncle, “Go.”
Peter scoffs, “I thought you were the alpha.”
“I am,” Derek grits out, emphasizing each syllable. “Leave.”
Once Peter has left the house and Derek has listened to his car find the road, the alpha takes a step towards his mate. “Stiles…” He closes the distance between them, inhaling deeply, scenting the younger man.
Stiles wraps his arms around Derek, ducking his head down to the alpha’s shoulder. His whole body is shaking and he can’t stop smiling.
Understanding courses through Derek and he growls, lifting the younger man off the ground. Stiles feels only slightly emasculated when Derek does it--more so turned on--but it was somewhat embarrassing when Erica lifted him. Derek mouths Stiles’s neck, scraping blunt human teeth over the sensitive flesh.
Stiles grips Derek’s waist with his thighs, groaning. “Here? Here is good. We can just… Yeah.” He wriggles, knowing it won’t do anything to get rid of his jeans but it would send the message to Derek. Within seconds, Derek has rid them both of their clothes, pressing Stiles up against the wall. “Lube,” Stiles practically squeaks, feeling Derek’s cock against him.
Derek holds up the bottle between two fingers, smirking.
“Then what are you waiting for?” Stiles demands, scratching his fingernails over Derek’s back and shoulders. Derek slicks two fingers and pushes them in at once. Stiles tenses for only a second before he’s moving. “You could probably just fuck me already,” Stiles says matter-of-factly, but his breathing is hard to control, harsh.
“Stiles,” Derek warns, fingering the younger man with more force, causing him to whimper. It turns into a moan as Derek continues his ministrations.
“Derek,” Stiles retorts, but his voice breaks.
The alpha growls, pulling his fingers free and pushing his way inside. It burns but Stiles doesn’t care, biting into Derek’s shoulder and attempting to move as best as he could.
Derek’s body trembles, trying to keep from moving too fast, from hurting his mate. He hasn’t in a long time, but Stiles likes to test his control. Grinding against him and mouthing at whatever flesh he can find. He makes the noises he knows Derek can’t resist, says whatever he’s thinking.
“Fuck me, Derek. Come on, goddamn it, move. You feel so good in me. Fuck, just, nngh, I want you so bad. Please, please, Derek.” He kisses him, mouth open and panting, and Derek’s hips start to move, thrusting into him carefully. He digs his nails in deeper into his back and bites at Derek’s bottom lip.
Derek moves teasingly slow until Stiles whines. He pushes in faster, slides almost all the way out only to pound into him.
Stiles’s eyes roll back and his head thunks against the wall behind, “Keep that up and you won’t even have to fucking touch me. Jesus.”
“Remember when you used to shut up when we fucked?” Derek asks rhetorically, quickening his pace and angling his hips. He knows the other man’s body so well, can move so perfectly with him. Stiles wanted him to fall apart but instead he watches as his mate cries out, whimpers, fucks him until he can no longer form words.
A string of noises make their way out of Stiles’s mouth and he’s clenching around Derek, untouched cock painting stripes across their chests. His legs are squeezing Derek’s sides, it would have hurt anyone else, feet crossed and toes flexing as he groans his release.
Derek’s hips stutter and he’s coming inside him.
“Yes. God, Derek. Feels so good.” Stiles is only starting to find speech possible again.
Derek pulls out after a moment and Stiles’s legs, although shaky, find the floor. He presses a chaste kiss to the alpha’s lips and scoots past him, searching through the pockets of his discarded clothing until he locates his phone.
“What are you doing?” Derek asks, raising an eyebrow. The scratches in his back are fading, almost completely gone already.
“Texting my dad to head over,” Stiles replies, typing as he does.
{ Part Three }