Instincts [Chapter Two]
Title: Instincts
Author: andromedacain
Fandom: Teen Wolf
Rating: NC-17
Character/Pairing: Derek Hale/Scott McCall
Genre: Angst, romance, bits of fluff
Word count: 14K
Disclamer: I own nothing involved with Teen Wolf but the words I wrote below.
Summary: Scott's never done well with subtlety. Derek soon finds out.
He's close. I can feel him. My eyes are closed, but with my mouth open, I can literally taste his scent. It makes my mouth water, this mixture of smells that come only from Derek. Makes me want to dominate him. Makes me want to let him dominate me.
He's in front of me now. His hand's stroking my side, his face is coming closer…I can't help but let out a frustrated whine at how slow he is. He chuckles, his tongue snaking out to lick at my lips, bared in frustration. My lips slowly change to form appreciative moans, my hands reaching around his waist. He lets out a laugh this time, amused that I would try to take possession of him. He tears my hands off of him, holding them behind my back as he kisses me, unable to stop his smile in the process. I can feel his chest rising in time with mine, his lips slowly making their way-
"Dude, you have got a raging boner."
My eyes shoot open, only to close when they see who would dare to interrupt my sleep. He's leaning against the wall, his hip cocked in that endless effort to be cool. His eyes are narrowed, trying to be at least kind of respectful of my privacy as he ignores the sight of my naked body, resting only on my face. Fucking Stiles.
I pull the sheets over myself, checking to see if his statement is correct. Yep. Totally hard. I sigh, rubbing my eyes to try to wake myself up. "Get outta here, Stiles. Go bug my mom or something; I need to get ready."
He looks kind of hurt, but he just nods, sighing as he lopes off to go downstairs and probably snag some food. I watch him go, sorry if I made him feel bad. Once I can hear his breathing downstairs, I look down at the hard-on again. "Fuck, looks like I got something to get rid of," I say to myself, my grin portraying how happy I am to oblige.
-----
I'm at school, tons of students are here, and I am going to burst. I bang my head against my locker, closing my eyes as I try to think calming thoughts. Thoughts that aren't of Derek. It's not working.
Someone comes up behind me and puts their hand on my shoulder. I turn around, my eyes glaring. Yeah, I could go for a fight right now. My anger deflates once I see who it is. "Allison," I say, shoving my hands in my pockets. She makes me feel terrible, and I don't want to think of just why that is.
"Scott, are you all right? I saw you in History, and you looked…bad," she ends, and I can tell she was thinking of a different adjective.
I let out a tense smile. "Uh, I'm fine. Just…stuff…is happening. You know?"
Allison narrows her eyes, not buying it. I hate how perceptive she can get sometimes. Before she can drill me with any more questions, I slam my locker door shut, waving at her as I walk down the hall. "Talk to you later," I say, turning around.
I can hear her heartbeat quicken as I walk away. I know she feels bad about how we ended. I know she kind of regrets her rash thinking. Hell, I kind of miss her too. But…there's someone else now. Someone I didn't let myself think of when I was with Allison. I breathe in roughly. Dammit, I didn't want to think about Derek.
I sigh, adjusting the straps of my backpack as I walk forward, my eyes staring at the ground. I'm surprised when someone bumps into me.
"Hey, McCall. Maybe people wouldn't think you were such a freak if you actually looked up once in a while."
It's Jackson, the lousy son of a bitch. He's glaring at me, his mouth frowning and his eyes blazing. Damn, he wants to pick a fight with me. I lean against a nearby locker, my arms crossed. No way in hell is this asshole gonna get a rise out of me. I stay silent, my eyes narrowed. I don't want to have to drop his ass, but I will if he keeps testing me.
"What, you so stupid you forgot to talk?" Jackson asks, his grin astounding seeing as he came up with such a lameass insult. I stare at him incredulously, wondering if he's stupid. Yeah, probably.
I tire of this stupidity, so I push off of the wall, which reminds me of that damn werewolf. Yet again. I shake my head as I start walking to third period.
Jackson comes up behind me, shoving my shoulder. Hard. I spin around, trying to control my werewolf instincts as he glares, his eyes searching through his mind for something to piss me off.
"Maybe now that Allison realised what a freak you are she'll go out with me, her awesome, trustworthy friend," Jackson states, and I know he's just grasping at straws here.
I smile. "Really, now?" I ask, amused that Jackson would think he has a chance with someone as awesome as Allison. No way in hell.
Jackson growls, frustrated. "Goddammit. Well, whatever, you're so gay you're probably glad she broke up with you, since you can finally start sucking Derek's cock," Jackson says, his eyes disappointed as he starts to turn away.
I catch him midstride, slamming him into the lockers. "What the fuck did you say?" I growl out, my fangs growing of their own accord.
Jackson grins delightedly. He laughs, happy that he finally found something that would piss me off. "Me? Nothing! Just stating a fact, you know, that you and Derek suck each other's balls."
I breathe in a shaky breath, tossing that extremely provocative image out of my imagination. Not now. I need to focus on this little bastard. I punch the space next to him, leaving a very big indentation. I don't plan on hurting him, but I do want to scare him.
Jackson looks at the mark out of the corners of his eyes and smiles. Fucking smiles! He pushes me away from him, his hands poised on his hips. He's ecstatic that he can cause me to get so angry. "What, does it hit home? Does Scott think that cock sucking is fun? Does Scott want to suck Derek's cock right now? Or maybe, he just wants to get fuc-"
He can't talk anymore because I'm punching his fucking brains out. Wailing on him, just absolutely fucking his face up. My eyes start to see red and I know I'm going way out of control, but I can't stop. Seeing his pummeled face just makes me angrier. Hearing his muffled cries makes me punch harder.
It's only after about five guys pull me off and sit on me that my eyesight slowly starts to come back to me. I'm covered in blood, none of which is my own. I have absolutely no trace of scars on myself. I look over to see Jackson lying there, his hands covering his face. He's embarrassed that he lost the fight. Also, he's in terrible pain. My mouth opens and closes as I try to come up with some words that could make this right. But what the fuck do I say?
The guys on top of me are staring, their gazes so judgmental. Their eyes indicate absolute disgust. I keep opening my mouth, but I can't think of anything in my defense.
Mom's absolutely pissed. There's no other adjective you could think of to describe her. She's horribly, completely, miserably pissed off. She's screaming at me right now, in the kitchen. She screamed at me in school, screamed at me in the car, and now here. I'm surprised her vocal chords haven't snapped by now.
Her voice soon tapers down, turning out gravelly and shaken. There are tears in the corners of her eyes, threatening to spill down at any second. I stare up at her miserably, hanging onto the chair I am sitting on. I don't know how to make this right. I couldn't think of any words during this whole time. While her voice is used up, mine is perfect. I could scream, laugh, talk, howl. I could do anything I fucking want. But I can't. I have a feeling this has something to do with shock; I've seen some animals in the vet's office who've acted like me.
Mom stares at me, shaking her head. She finally closes her eyes, slumping her shoulders, which obviously care a heavy burden. She just points at the stairs, obviously signaling it's time for me to go to my room. I get up dejectedly, my eyes unable to look anywhere but the floor as I trudge up the stairs, pushing my door open with half-effort.
I throw myself on the bed, the back of my hand covering my eyes. I didn't want anything like this to happen. I didn't want to beat Jackson to a pulp.
I curl into the fetal position, my eyes closed as silent tears leak out of them. I start gnawing on my sleeve, trying to muffle any possible sounds I could make. All I want to do is see Derek. I let myself drift off, unable to get the werewolf off of my mind. Unable to convince myself that I don't want to see him.
-----
I open my eyes to the sounds of birds chirping, leaves shuffling, and footsteps on wood. The sky is dark, clouds partially covering a crescent moon. I roll my eyes over to the feet in front of me.
I slowly look up to see Derek, his arms crossed. "What the fuck are you doing on my front porch?" he asks, and I can sense that something pissed him off, and my presence is just icing on the cake.
I shake my head, trying to clear it. The last thing I remember is falling asleep on my bed, wishing I could see Derek…oh, fuck. Did I sleepwalk or some shit? I slowly sit up, leaning against the door of his house for support. Damn, my muscles are sore. What the fuck did I do?
Derek's extremely pissed that I'm not answering his question. He walks over, grabs my shirt, and lifts me up so that we're eye-to-eye.
"Listen, I'm in an extremely bad mood. The fact that you come up here, fall asleep on my porch, then don't even tell me what the fuck is going on is seriously making me pissed off. So, I'm gonna ask again. What. The fuck. Are you. Doing. On my. Front porch?"
I shake my head, my eyes refusing to open more than halfway. "I-I don't know! I must have sleepwalked or something! Come on, let me down!"
Derek glares, his mouth a hard line. "I don't think so. You've been acting differently. Every time I see you, you get weirder and weirder. I can smell the lust on you. Are you gay or something?"
My mouth and eyes widen in shock. I never thought he would just bring it up. I can't help but notice the proximity of our bodies, which makes my mouth water and my groin feel unbearably heated. "W-w-what the fuck? No way, man. I'm totally straight, you know, A-Allison and all. Totally, completely homos-I mean, heterosexual. Yessireebob, No way I could be anything but-"
His hand on my mouth silences me, his eyes narrowed in annoyance. "Shut the fuck up, your voice is pissing me off," he says, leaning his head back. He suddenly stares at me, his eyes still narrowed. "All right," he says, "I'm gonna let you down, but on one condition. You tell me what the fuck is going on with you, so that I can deal with it. All right?"
I slowly nod, unable to close my mouth for fear I would lose the taste of his hand. Fuck, when did I get so fucking messed up?
He nods in response, letting me down and taking his hand off my mouth. I quietly sigh in consternation, missing the warmth of his body already.
He opens the door silently, crossing the stairs as he makes his way towards the kitchen. I follow, unable to get the image of a puppy following its master out of my mind.
He gestures towards the shaky table with only two chairs. I obediently sit, watching as he takes the more usable one. He's slouched in that chair, his arms crossed. The only adjective that could describe him right now is manly. I let out a quiet, longing moan, but cover it up with a cough. I don't think I'm fooling anyone.
He stares at me, his eyes narrowed. "All right, so if you're not gay, why the fuck do you smell like lust every time you're around me?" He asks, and I'm taken aback by his forwardness. I feel like one of those eighteenth century ladies, you know, the ones who are always taken aback by men's forwardness. I sigh in dismay when I realise I've admitted to myself that I would be the girl in this relationship.
I realise that the longer I take to answer his questions, the angrier he gets. "Uh, why do you think? You know, teenage, hormonal boy here," is my flimsy excuse.
He can sense that I'm lying, listening to my quickened heartbeat. "You think I believe that?" He asks, his crossed arms hugging his waist. I narrow my eyes, wondering why his heart's beating fast too.
Derek grows uncomfortable, shifting in his chair. "Dude, stop staring at me," he says, looking out of the window.
I keep studying him, unable to get the feeling that he's hiding something out of my head. I watch as he slowly moves his head, his eyes piercing mine. "Did you hear me? I said get your fucking eyes off of me."
And with that, I leap out of my chair, landing on Derek, whose face is absolutely shocked. Goddammit, he's so hot. Even when he's caught by surprise.
I didn't calculate our body masses combined. The chair smashes, and Derek ends up on his back, my hands pinning his arms to the floor. He's stronger than me, yeah, but I've got the element of surprise. I take advantage of this, smashing my lips to his. It's not the first kiss I imagined, yeah, but it's still extremely sexy. Derek's surprisingly soft lips get sucked into my mouth, my teeth gently biting at the skin. He lets out an involuntary groan, which makes me shudder in absolute ecstasy.
I swipe my tongue along the inside of his mouth, the heat causing my cock to harden painfully. He moves his lips with mine, our tongues colliding with enough force to bruise. I let go of his arms, moving my hands across his body, ending at his hips, which I grip forcefully. My mistake.
I'm suddenly flipped over, my hands pinned above my head, Derek breathing hard above me. Our hard-ons are nearly touching, which makes me moan in need. He ignores me, his eyes glaring. "What…the fuck…do you think you're doing?" he gasps out.
I'm breathing hard too. "Just…did…what you didn't…have the courage…to do," I pant, my tongue lolling.
Derek lets in a painful breath, staring at the tongue that was just recently inside his mouth. He forces himself to look away, staring at my eyes, which I can tell are a glowing golden.
"What do you mean?" he asks, outraged. "I'm not the gay one here, it's you!"
I look pointedly down at the two erections, my gaze obviously my response. He follows my eyes, looking back up with red cheeks.
He releases his hold on me, standing up. "I-I…you should get out of here," he finally says, his eyes unwilling to look at me.
"D-Derek-k, come on-"
"No. Just…please, get out."
I look up at him, my hands fisted at my sides, my eyes leaking tears unabashedly. "F-f-fine. Y-you want to-o igno-nore it, g-go ahead."
I run out of the house, ignoring his call of "Scott!" and his outstretched hand. I streak home, hardly noticing my surroundings. Fucking werewolf. Couldn't give in to his fucking emotions.
I slam into the wall of our house, breathing hard, sobbing. I curl up into a ball, unable to do anything right now but cry.
Author: andromedacain
Fandom: Teen Wolf
Rating: NC-17
Character/Pairing: Derek Hale/Scott McCall
Genre: Angst, romance, bits of fluff
Word count: 14K
Disclamer: I own nothing involved with Teen Wolf but the words I wrote below.
Summary: Scott's never done well with subtlety. Derek soon finds out.
He's close. I can feel him. My eyes are closed, but with my mouth open, I can literally taste his scent. It makes my mouth water, this mixture of smells that come only from Derek. Makes me want to dominate him. Makes me want to let him dominate me.
He's in front of me now. His hand's stroking my side, his face is coming closer…I can't help but let out a frustrated whine at how slow he is. He chuckles, his tongue snaking out to lick at my lips, bared in frustration. My lips slowly change to form appreciative moans, my hands reaching around his waist. He lets out a laugh this time, amused that I would try to take possession of him. He tears my hands off of him, holding them behind my back as he kisses me, unable to stop his smile in the process. I can feel his chest rising in time with mine, his lips slowly making their way-
"Dude, you have got a raging boner."
My eyes shoot open, only to close when they see who would dare to interrupt my sleep. He's leaning against the wall, his hip cocked in that endless effort to be cool. His eyes are narrowed, trying to be at least kind of respectful of my privacy as he ignores the sight of my naked body, resting only on my face. Fucking Stiles.
I pull the sheets over myself, checking to see if his statement is correct. Yep. Totally hard. I sigh, rubbing my eyes to try to wake myself up. "Get outta here, Stiles. Go bug my mom or something; I need to get ready."
He looks kind of hurt, but he just nods, sighing as he lopes off to go downstairs and probably snag some food. I watch him go, sorry if I made him feel bad. Once I can hear his breathing downstairs, I look down at the hard-on again. "Fuck, looks like I got something to get rid of," I say to myself, my grin portraying how happy I am to oblige.
-----
I'm at school, tons of students are here, and I am going to burst. I bang my head against my locker, closing my eyes as I try to think calming thoughts. Thoughts that aren't of Derek. It's not working.
Someone comes up behind me and puts their hand on my shoulder. I turn around, my eyes glaring. Yeah, I could go for a fight right now. My anger deflates once I see who it is. "Allison," I say, shoving my hands in my pockets. She makes me feel terrible, and I don't want to think of just why that is.
"Scott, are you all right? I saw you in History, and you looked…bad," she ends, and I can tell she was thinking of a different adjective.
I let out a tense smile. "Uh, I'm fine. Just…stuff…is happening. You know?"
Allison narrows her eyes, not buying it. I hate how perceptive she can get sometimes. Before she can drill me with any more questions, I slam my locker door shut, waving at her as I walk down the hall. "Talk to you later," I say, turning around.
I can hear her heartbeat quicken as I walk away. I know she feels bad about how we ended. I know she kind of regrets her rash thinking. Hell, I kind of miss her too. But…there's someone else now. Someone I didn't let myself think of when I was with Allison. I breathe in roughly. Dammit, I didn't want to think about Derek.
I sigh, adjusting the straps of my backpack as I walk forward, my eyes staring at the ground. I'm surprised when someone bumps into me.
"Hey, McCall. Maybe people wouldn't think you were such a freak if you actually looked up once in a while."
It's Jackson, the lousy son of a bitch. He's glaring at me, his mouth frowning and his eyes blazing. Damn, he wants to pick a fight with me. I lean against a nearby locker, my arms crossed. No way in hell is this asshole gonna get a rise out of me. I stay silent, my eyes narrowed. I don't want to have to drop his ass, but I will if he keeps testing me.
"What, you so stupid you forgot to talk?" Jackson asks, his grin astounding seeing as he came up with such a lameass insult. I stare at him incredulously, wondering if he's stupid. Yeah, probably.
I tire of this stupidity, so I push off of the wall, which reminds me of that damn werewolf. Yet again. I shake my head as I start walking to third period.
Jackson comes up behind me, shoving my shoulder. Hard. I spin around, trying to control my werewolf instincts as he glares, his eyes searching through his mind for something to piss me off.
"Maybe now that Allison realised what a freak you are she'll go out with me, her awesome, trustworthy friend," Jackson states, and I know he's just grasping at straws here.
I smile. "Really, now?" I ask, amused that Jackson would think he has a chance with someone as awesome as Allison. No way in hell.
Jackson growls, frustrated. "Goddammit. Well, whatever, you're so gay you're probably glad she broke up with you, since you can finally start sucking Derek's cock," Jackson says, his eyes disappointed as he starts to turn away.
I catch him midstride, slamming him into the lockers. "What the fuck did you say?" I growl out, my fangs growing of their own accord.
Jackson grins delightedly. He laughs, happy that he finally found something that would piss me off. "Me? Nothing! Just stating a fact, you know, that you and Derek suck each other's balls."
I breathe in a shaky breath, tossing that extremely provocative image out of my imagination. Not now. I need to focus on this little bastard. I punch the space next to him, leaving a very big indentation. I don't plan on hurting him, but I do want to scare him.
Jackson looks at the mark out of the corners of his eyes and smiles. Fucking smiles! He pushes me away from him, his hands poised on his hips. He's ecstatic that he can cause me to get so angry. "What, does it hit home? Does Scott think that cock sucking is fun? Does Scott want to suck Derek's cock right now? Or maybe, he just wants to get fuc-"
He can't talk anymore because I'm punching his fucking brains out. Wailing on him, just absolutely fucking his face up. My eyes start to see red and I know I'm going way out of control, but I can't stop. Seeing his pummeled face just makes me angrier. Hearing his muffled cries makes me punch harder.
It's only after about five guys pull me off and sit on me that my eyesight slowly starts to come back to me. I'm covered in blood, none of which is my own. I have absolutely no trace of scars on myself. I look over to see Jackson lying there, his hands covering his face. He's embarrassed that he lost the fight. Also, he's in terrible pain. My mouth opens and closes as I try to come up with some words that could make this right. But what the fuck do I say?
The guys on top of me are staring, their gazes so judgmental. Their eyes indicate absolute disgust. I keep opening my mouth, but I can't think of anything in my defense.
Mom's absolutely pissed. There's no other adjective you could think of to describe her. She's horribly, completely, miserably pissed off. She's screaming at me right now, in the kitchen. She screamed at me in school, screamed at me in the car, and now here. I'm surprised her vocal chords haven't snapped by now.
Her voice soon tapers down, turning out gravelly and shaken. There are tears in the corners of her eyes, threatening to spill down at any second. I stare up at her miserably, hanging onto the chair I am sitting on. I don't know how to make this right. I couldn't think of any words during this whole time. While her voice is used up, mine is perfect. I could scream, laugh, talk, howl. I could do anything I fucking want. But I can't. I have a feeling this has something to do with shock; I've seen some animals in the vet's office who've acted like me.
Mom stares at me, shaking her head. She finally closes her eyes, slumping her shoulders, which obviously care a heavy burden. She just points at the stairs, obviously signaling it's time for me to go to my room. I get up dejectedly, my eyes unable to look anywhere but the floor as I trudge up the stairs, pushing my door open with half-effort.
I throw myself on the bed, the back of my hand covering my eyes. I didn't want anything like this to happen. I didn't want to beat Jackson to a pulp.
I curl into the fetal position, my eyes closed as silent tears leak out of them. I start gnawing on my sleeve, trying to muffle any possible sounds I could make. All I want to do is see Derek. I let myself drift off, unable to get the werewolf off of my mind. Unable to convince myself that I don't want to see him.
-----
I open my eyes to the sounds of birds chirping, leaves shuffling, and footsteps on wood. The sky is dark, clouds partially covering a crescent moon. I roll my eyes over to the feet in front of me.
I slowly look up to see Derek, his arms crossed. "What the fuck are you doing on my front porch?" he asks, and I can sense that something pissed him off, and my presence is just icing on the cake.
I shake my head, trying to clear it. The last thing I remember is falling asleep on my bed, wishing I could see Derek…oh, fuck. Did I sleepwalk or some shit? I slowly sit up, leaning against the door of his house for support. Damn, my muscles are sore. What the fuck did I do?
Derek's extremely pissed that I'm not answering his question. He walks over, grabs my shirt, and lifts me up so that we're eye-to-eye.
"Listen, I'm in an extremely bad mood. The fact that you come up here, fall asleep on my porch, then don't even tell me what the fuck is going on is seriously making me pissed off. So, I'm gonna ask again. What. The fuck. Are you. Doing. On my. Front porch?"
I shake my head, my eyes refusing to open more than halfway. "I-I don't know! I must have sleepwalked or something! Come on, let me down!"
Derek glares, his mouth a hard line. "I don't think so. You've been acting differently. Every time I see you, you get weirder and weirder. I can smell the lust on you. Are you gay or something?"
My mouth and eyes widen in shock. I never thought he would just bring it up. I can't help but notice the proximity of our bodies, which makes my mouth water and my groin feel unbearably heated. "W-w-what the fuck? No way, man. I'm totally straight, you know, A-Allison and all. Totally, completely homos-I mean, heterosexual. Yessireebob, No way I could be anything but-"
His hand on my mouth silences me, his eyes narrowed in annoyance. "Shut the fuck up, your voice is pissing me off," he says, leaning his head back. He suddenly stares at me, his eyes still narrowed. "All right," he says, "I'm gonna let you down, but on one condition. You tell me what the fuck is going on with you, so that I can deal with it. All right?"
I slowly nod, unable to close my mouth for fear I would lose the taste of his hand. Fuck, when did I get so fucking messed up?
He nods in response, letting me down and taking his hand off my mouth. I quietly sigh in consternation, missing the warmth of his body already.
He opens the door silently, crossing the stairs as he makes his way towards the kitchen. I follow, unable to get the image of a puppy following its master out of my mind.
He gestures towards the shaky table with only two chairs. I obediently sit, watching as he takes the more usable one. He's slouched in that chair, his arms crossed. The only adjective that could describe him right now is manly. I let out a quiet, longing moan, but cover it up with a cough. I don't think I'm fooling anyone.
He stares at me, his eyes narrowed. "All right, so if you're not gay, why the fuck do you smell like lust every time you're around me?" He asks, and I'm taken aback by his forwardness. I feel like one of those eighteenth century ladies, you know, the ones who are always taken aback by men's forwardness. I sigh in dismay when I realise I've admitted to myself that I would be the girl in this relationship.
I realise that the longer I take to answer his questions, the angrier he gets. "Uh, why do you think? You know, teenage, hormonal boy here," is my flimsy excuse.
He can sense that I'm lying, listening to my quickened heartbeat. "You think I believe that?" He asks, his crossed arms hugging his waist. I narrow my eyes, wondering why his heart's beating fast too.
Derek grows uncomfortable, shifting in his chair. "Dude, stop staring at me," he says, looking out of the window.
I keep studying him, unable to get the feeling that he's hiding something out of my head. I watch as he slowly moves his head, his eyes piercing mine. "Did you hear me? I said get your fucking eyes off of me."
And with that, I leap out of my chair, landing on Derek, whose face is absolutely shocked. Goddammit, he's so hot. Even when he's caught by surprise.
I didn't calculate our body masses combined. The chair smashes, and Derek ends up on his back, my hands pinning his arms to the floor. He's stronger than me, yeah, but I've got the element of surprise. I take advantage of this, smashing my lips to his. It's not the first kiss I imagined, yeah, but it's still extremely sexy. Derek's surprisingly soft lips get sucked into my mouth, my teeth gently biting at the skin. He lets out an involuntary groan, which makes me shudder in absolute ecstasy.
I swipe my tongue along the inside of his mouth, the heat causing my cock to harden painfully. He moves his lips with mine, our tongues colliding with enough force to bruise. I let go of his arms, moving my hands across his body, ending at his hips, which I grip forcefully. My mistake.
I'm suddenly flipped over, my hands pinned above my head, Derek breathing hard above me. Our hard-ons are nearly touching, which makes me moan in need. He ignores me, his eyes glaring. "What…the fuck…do you think you're doing?" he gasps out.
I'm breathing hard too. "Just…did…what you didn't…have the courage…to do," I pant, my tongue lolling.
Derek lets in a painful breath, staring at the tongue that was just recently inside his mouth. He forces himself to look away, staring at my eyes, which I can tell are a glowing golden.
"What do you mean?" he asks, outraged. "I'm not the gay one here, it's you!"
I look pointedly down at the two erections, my gaze obviously my response. He follows my eyes, looking back up with red cheeks.
He releases his hold on me, standing up. "I-I…you should get out of here," he finally says, his eyes unwilling to look at me.
"D-Derek-k, come on-"
"No. Just…please, get out."
I look up at him, my hands fisted at my sides, my eyes leaking tears unabashedly. "F-f-fine. Y-you want to-o igno-nore it, g-go ahead."
I run out of the house, ignoring his call of "Scott!" and his outstretched hand. I streak home, hardly noticing my surroundings. Fucking werewolf. Couldn't give in to his fucking emotions.
I slam into the wall of our house, breathing hard, sobbing. I curl up into a ball, unable to do anything right now but cry.