Tastes Like Pack
Teen Wolf, explicit, Scott/Derek.
Also at AO3.
So I wrote this fic because I really just wanted there to be fic of Scott as an alpha screwing Derek into the floor. Somehow it ended up being full of talking about pack and feelings. It can be read either as a straight-up AU of the show from the season 1 finale, or as an AU of my other fic, The Scent of an Alpha.
Warnings: underage, dubious consent/full moon compulsion/sex for the good of the pack. The sex is also somewhat violent.
Derek kneels over Peter’s body, the stench of burned flesh overpowering him. He lets his claws extend, and--
“Wait! You said the cure comes from the one that bit you.” He hesitates, arm pulled back, and turns his head to look at Scott. Scott is breathing hard, eyes flashing in the darkness, and Derek feels nothing but determination from him.
“I told you I didn’t know if it was true,” he says. “Do you even know what will happen if it’s not? You’ve never killed anyone.”
“I don’t care,” Scott replies. “If I don’t kill him, I’m dead. Derek, please.” Decisiveness and force roll off of Scott in waves of scent, triggering an instinctive response in Derek. He retracts his claws and steps away, letting Scott take his place.
“Make sure you cut all the way through his neck,” he advises. “Don’t leave any room for him to heal.” He can’t see Scott’s face anymore, but Scott nods; his claws flash once in the light before coming down, and a splatter of blood hits Derek’s shoes. Scott stands up slowly, retracting and extending the claws on his hand over and over.
“It didn’t work,” Scott says, stalking toward Derek. “Why didn’t it work?” His voice is hard and echoes with an alpha growl; his eyes flash red. Derek is on his knees before he even knows what he’s doing, head tipped to the side and throat bared. It surprises Scott, and he takes a step back. When he speaks again, his voice is back to that of a 16-year-old kid. “Derek, what--”
Derek lets out a short, bitter chuckle, and gets back up to his feet. “You’re the alpha now, Scott.”
***
Derek waits outside Scott’s house the next afternoon. He could have stayed home, waited for Scott to come to him, but--
Well. Scott is the alpha, after all.
Scott doesn’t look too surprised to see him when he pulls into the driveway, unbuckling his helmet and climbing off his bike. “We need to talk,” Derek says, as if it wasn’t obvious. He follows Scott through the garage and into the kitchen. “You feel different now, right?”
“Can’t you just leave me alone?” Scott asks, pouring himself a glass of water. “You can go back to doing whatever it is you do. I can take care of myself.”
Derek crosses his arms over his chest. “We’re stronger together,” he says, watching Scott’s adam’s apple bob up and down as he drains his glass. “A wolf without a pack is no wolf at all.”
“I have a pack,” Scott says, “you said that yourself. Just because they’re not werewolves doesn’t mean they’re not my pack.”
“Who said I was talking about you?” That catches Scott’s attention, and the clink of his glass landing on the counter seems extremely loud. When Scott turns to look at Derek, Derek looks away.
“You’re doing it again,” Scott says. “That thing that you did last night. Except not as much. What is it?”
Derek sighs and rubs the back of his head with one hand. “It’s a sign of submission, okay? Your alpha instincts ought to be telling you that if you were paying attention. I’m not doing it on purpose.”
“Submission? What-- Why would you--” Scott looks so surprised that it takes Derek off guard. Derek turns away.
“Don’t you get it? You’re an alpha and I’m a-- I’m not. What did you think was going to happen?”
“I don’t know! I don’t know, okay?” Scott starts pacing around the room, and Derek can feel the tension coiling around him. “I thought I was going to be cured.”
“Yeah, well, you’re not. Look, letting me join your pack doesn’t mean we have to be friends.”
“What does it mean then? That you’re, like, my servant? Because I don’t want that either.” Scott stops in the middle of the room and looks at Derek with wide eyes.
“It means that we keep each other alive.” Derek puts his hands on Scott’s shoulders. “Scott, pack means that we help each other survive and keep away from the hunters. It means if one of us is in trouble then the rest of the pack comes to help.”
“Don’t we already do that?” Scott’s confusion is palpable. “You helped me get out even though it meant they took you. I called to find out where you were, and you answered, and I came and broke you out of those chains.” He’s right -- Scott is right, they’ve been acting like pack already, but somehow it’s different now.
“Yes. You’re right. Now that you’re alpha though, it needs to be official.”
“Official? What does that even mean?” Derek blows air out of his cheeks, trying to contain his frustration.
“Don’t you feel it, Scott? Don’t your instincts tell you anything? When you went all alpha on me last night and I got down on my fucking knees in front of you what did you want to do? Try it again, right now, and just do whatever your body tells you to do.”
Instead, Scott just looks at Derek, eyes slightly narrowed. “Is that what Peter did to you?” he asks, and his voice is soft and gentle instead of angry.
“Yes and no.” Derek closes his eyes, just for a moment. “Peter was part of my family. We were already pack. He just reinforced it.”
“But Peter bit me, so doesn’t that make us pack already?” Derek realizes, a little more every day, just how much Scott does not know about being a werewolf. Some things come so naturally to him -- controlling the shift, protecting his pack -- that Derek forgets that he didn’t grow up knowing about all of this.
“Look, Scott, there are two ways to become an alpha. One is to be born that way. The other is to kill an alpha. You did a little bit of both. You never felt a desire to join up with Peter, right? That’s because you were never part of his pack, you were already on your way to being an alpha. Killing him just sped up the process. You don’t understand what it’s like-- You don’t know how hard it was for me to go against him.” Derek forces himself to look Scott in the eye, even though his instincts tell him not to. “I’ll never be an alpha,” he says. “It’s not in my nature.” And there it is, the thing he never wanted to have to admit to Scott. He’s glad that Scott killed Peter, glad because it let him off the hook. Because Derek would have become an alpha and it would have been a disaster, but Scott can handle it. Scott would have been an alpha sooner or later anyway.
Scott looks almost sorry for Derek, and it rankles. Then Scott’s lips set in a firm line, and he twists his head and shifts, and then he’s growling and his eyes are flashing and Derek is on his knees again. This time though, there is no surprise. He feels the hot puff of Scott’s breath when Scott bends over him, and then Scott’s teeth are sinking into his neck, and in the midst of the pain Derek feels a moment of connection and wholeness that he hasn’t felt since his sister died.
***
Derek convinces Scott to come to the Hale house for the first full moon after he becomes alpha. Stiles drives Scott out, and because Scott trusts Stiles Derek has to as well.
When they arrive, Derek can already see the effect that the moon is having on Scott. He looks angry, surly, reluctant to be there, and Stiles is overflowing with fear and aggravation. The Hale house was built for raising werewolves, and the caged cells in the basement aren’t for show. It takes Stiles cajoling and Derek manhandling to get Scott to agree to go into the cell. Derek joins Scott, and hands Stiles the keys. “Just lock it and go home,” he tells Stiles. “Come back in the morning to let us out.”
Stiles looks at Derek with the all-too-familiar “are you crazy?” expression, but Derek shuts him up with a glare before he can speak. “We’ll be fine,” he adds. “I won’t hurt him.”
Stiles glances back and forth between Derek and Scott. “I’m not so sure he won’t hurt you,” he finally says, but he turns the key in the lock and heads up the stairs. Derek listens until he hears the engine of the jeep disappear in the distance, but he suspects Stiles will be back before the night is over.
“I don’t know why we’re doing this,” Scott complains. “I was fine on the last full moon.”
“You weren’t an alpha on the last full moon. It’s different.”
“Oh, because you know so much about being an alpha?” Scott turns on Derek, eyes flashing. “I thought you said it wasn’t ‘in your nature’ to be an alpha.”
Derek holds his ground in the middle of the cell. “It’s not. I may not be an alpha but I’ve spent plenty of full moons with them. Can you even hear yourself talking? You don’t sound like yourself, Scott. What do you think would happen if you were out there tonight?”
The sky is dark now, and a tiny sliver of moonlight shines in through the basement window grating. “I think that I should be the one to make those decisions, not you.” Scott backs off for a while, though, and Derek sits against the wall while Scott prowls in circles around the cell. The beam of moonlight crawls slowly across the floor.
Derek tries to relax, but the moonlight is like an itch underneath his skin, and Scott’s prowling is enhancing it. He almost jumps when Scott growls his name. “Derek. We shouldn’t be in here. We should be out. Hunting.”
“No,” Derek replies. “You need to be in here because otherwise you’re going to hurt someone.”
“Maybe I’m going to hurt someone anyway.” Scott stalks toward Derek, claws extended. “Someone who’s overstepping his authority. Someone who thinks he knows what’s best for an alpha when he’s really just a mewling, pitiful omega.” Derek flinches and gets to his feet.
“So you finally figured it out. I guess there are some pack instincts in your thick skull after all.” The bravado is just for show and they both know it. Scott isn’t usually like this -- he’s really a nice, pleasant kid. A good alpha who wants to protect his pack. On a full moon, though, things are different and there is a cruelty to Scott that nobody would suspect.
Scott digs his claws into the rock on either side of Derek’s head. “You didn’t have to lock yourself in here with me,” he says, leaning in to whisper the words close to Derek’s ear. “Why did you do it?”
“You said it yourself.” Derek breathes in the scent of alpha, and exposes more of his neck to Scott. “Omega. If you figured out that much you know why I’m in here.”
Scott growls low in his throat and rakes his teeth across Derek’s neck, then he’s tossing Derek across the room like a rag doll, alpha strength making up for the difference in size and age. Derek struggles to his feet. If this goes well, he can give Scott exactly what he needs. If not-- Well, he’s always been a fast healer, even for a werewolf, and he thinks Scott’s alpha instincts will stop him from killing one of his own pack. This time, when Scott starts toward him, Derek is faster. He steps into Scott’s space and presses his lips to Scott’s, hands sliding over the sides of Scott’s ribcage.
Scott is so startled that he shifts back, claws and teeth retracting, and Derek slips his tongue into Scott’s mouth and grinds their bodies together. Scott puts his hands on Derek’s shoulders and pushes him back, saying, “Derek, what are you--”
“What, you think you can turn your instincts on and off whenever you want? I’m giving you what you need, Scott.”
“But I--”
“It’s not about love or romance.” Derek kisses his way down Scott’s body, sinking to his knees. “It’s about pack. It’s about dominance and hierarchy. It’s about the full moon and bloodlust.” He traces his hands down Scott’s stomach and starts working on the fly of Scott’s jeans. “It’s about distraction and relieving tension, and I’d rather do it this way than have you beat the shit out of me, because if you hadn’t noticed that’s what you were about to do.”
The moonbeam from the grate has inched into the cell, and starts moving up Scott’s leg. Derek listens to Scott’s breathing speed up and pulls him out of his jeans and underwear as Scott clenches and unclenches his hands, claws growing out again and a growl starting from the pit of his belly. Derek curls his tongue around Scott’s half-hard cock, pulling it into his mouth and sucking. Werewolf or not, Scott is sixteen years old, and it’s only a few short minutes before he’s coming into Derek’s mouth.
The alpha in him takes over, then, and shoves Derek face first into the floor. The stone is rough against his cheek, but he doesn’t resist. Scott may be smaller than Derek, but he’s compact and surprisingly heavy for his size. Claws rake down Derek’s back, shredding his t-shirt and scoring bright lines into his skin. Derek struggles to get his jeans and underwear off while pinned to the ground, Scott’s breath and teeth hovering over his neck. He manages to get them down to his knees, which is enough to feel the rough fabric of Scott’s jeans and the sharp edge of Scott’s open zipper pressing into his ass.
Scott rubs himself against Derek’s back, sniffing and licking at the back of Derek’s neck. Derek can feel Scott getting hard again, and is glad that he prepared himself for this earlier. It’s been a few hours but there’s still enough lube in his ass to make this a little less painful, because Scott doesn’t know what he’s doing. Derek grits his teeth when Scott growls next to his ear and closes his teeth over the back of Derek’s neck, the bite and the weight of Scott’s upper body crushing Derek’s face and chest into the cold stone. The claws are gone from his back for a moment, and then the blunt head of Scott’s cock is pressing into Derek’s ass.
Scott pulls Derek’s hands above his head and pins them there with one hand, the other hauling Dereks hips upward to give him a better angle. Scott isn’t particularly big, but Derek bites his lip against the pain when he slides in and starts thrusting without any time to adjust. There is a continuous low growl rumbling in Scott’s chest, and Derek can feel the vibration of it where their bodies touch. He spreads his legs a little wider and pushes back into Scott, relaxing into his role and taking whatever his alpha needs to give him.
Apparently what his alpha needs is to fuck him into the floor, and Derek’s face and chest stick and scratch on the rough edges of stone with each thrust. He would push up onto his hands and knees, but Scott is still holding his hands above his head and Scott’s teeth are still working on his neck. A trickle of blood and saliva drips down from the bite onto the back of Derek’s ear, then around onto his cheek. He reaches his tongue out and catches the edge of it, and it tastes like alpha and like pack. Scott is moving faster now, harder, and Derek can feel Scott’s climax gathering and then bursting over him.
Scott releases Derek’s hands and neck, and rolls off of him. The intensity of it has wiped him out and Derek hears his breathing slow down into sleep almost immediately. Derek’s arms are stiff as he pushes himself up, and there are rapidly healing cuts and scratches all over his chest. He can still feel blood dripping from the bite on his neck as he takes hold of his erection and strokes himself off efficiently. The full moon itch subsides somewhat, and Derek pulls his pants back on and removes his shredded t-shirt. Scott has fallen asleep with his pants around his knees, and doesn’t wake up when Derek manhandles them back into place. He uses the remains of his shirt to wipe up the blood and semen, then settles back against the wall to wait.
He judges it to have been about two hours by the track of the moonlight on the floor before Scott wakes up, slowly pushing himself up to sit. Scott looks human again, although there is still a glint of red in his eyes. “What--” he starts to ask, then his nostrils flare. “Oh. Oh.” He looks around wildly, then his eyes settle on Derek. “Are you okay?”
Derek laughs at the earnestness in Scott’s voice. “I’ll live. We’ve still got quite a few hours left of the full moon. How are you feeling?”
“Um.” Scott scrubs a hand through his hair and Derek can smell his embarrassment. “Still kind of, uh.”
“Twitchy?” Derek supplies.
“But not as bad as before. Look, I didn’t mean to--”
“It’s okay,” Derek says, cutting him off. “Don’t worry about it. If you need to do it again it’s fine. It’s what I’m here for.”
“What you’re here for? What is that supposed to mean?”
“It means I’m getting you through the full moon by letting you take it out on me. That’s what an omega is for.” Derek stretches his arms over his head, twisting his neck and hissing a little at the pain of the still-healing bite. “When the full moon comes there are two things you want to do: kill and fuck. You have to have figured that part out by now at least?” Scott ducks his head, a fringe of mussed hair hanging over his eyes. “So. Until you can learn to control yourself, you can either beat me up or fuck me. It’s your choice, I can’t stop you, but I’d rather not have my guts spilling out at the end of the night.”
“If sex is the answer to not killing anyone you could have told me, I would have called Allison.”
“No, Scott, you don’t get it.” Derek turns around to show Scott the marks on his neck, and Scott has the decency to look ashamed. “That bite you gave me would have killed a human. You can’t keep yourself in human form during sex on a full moon yet so you can’t be trusted with her. Unless you turn someone else and grow this pack, you’re stuck with me and I’m stuck with you.”
“How am I supposed to learn something like that?” Scott asks, cradling his head in his hands.
“Practice. Maybe don’t wait until you can’t stand it anymore next time.” Derek gets to his feet and walks over to Scott. It’s been a long time since Derek played this role, but seduction always came easily to him. He holds out a hand and pulls Scott to his feet, then leans in, mouth inches from Scott’s. “Come on. Put your hands on me. I know you want to; I can smell it on you.”
There’s a growl, and then Derek finds himself being pressed back into the wall. Scott’s claws dig into his hips and he can feel the sharp edges of teeth touching his neck lightly, not quite biting. Scott is trembling with the effort to control himself, and Derek waits it out as the claws slowly retract and the teeth are replaced by lips. When he hears Scott’s heart rate return to normal, he rests his hands on Scott’s shoulders and slides them down Scott’s back, then under the edge of his t-shirt. Scott’s heartbeat picks up a little bit, but not enough to worry about, and he steps back and strips off his shirt.
Derek lets Scott take the lead, trying not to do anything to trigger Scott to shift. Scott’s cheeks are flushed with embarrassment, but he puts one hand on Derek’s chest and uses the other to pull Derek’s head down for a close-mouthed kiss. The skin of Scott’s back is hot under his fingers, muscles shifting smoothly with his movements. If this wasn’t a full moon, and Scott wasn’t his alpha, Derek would have kissed his way down Scott’s neck, sucking marks into his skin. As it is, he knows putting his mouth on Scott’s neck would prickle all of Scott’s alpha instincts as a challenge for dominance, so he settles for sucking Scott’s lower lip into his mouth and tracing his tongue along the edge. They pull apart briefly, and then Scott’s tongue is in Derek’s mouth, sliding against his own, and there are still no fangs involved.
Scott moves closer, body pressing up against Derek’s, and his lips move off through the stubble along Derek’s jaw. “I would try to pretend you’re Allison except for how she has boobs, no facial hair, and is shorter than me,” he mumbles into Derek’s cheek. “Smaller muscles, too.” Derek has to laugh at that, at Scott’s attempt to keep himself in control by lightening the situation, because he can feel Scott’s heart rate picking up again. Derek moves one hand to Scott’s chest, running from his collarbone to his hip and back again. His other hand slides down to the edge of Scott’s jeans, almost coming down over his ass but not quite.
Scott’s mouth moves down Derek’s neck, lips and tongue leaving a wet trail behind. Derek feels the hint of teeth when Scott grabs him by the hips and grinds them together, and then Scott is holding still again, breathing fast and hot against Derek’s skin. Derek’s own heartbeat sounds loud in his ears and he knows Scott is listening to it too. Letting Scott fuck him during an alpha rage -- that is a hard thing to do, but it’s hard in an entirely different way to be patient now, to let Scott take his time, to not touch and to not taste. The itch of the moon crawls under Derek’s skin and even though he’s had plenty of practice keeping himself calm over the years, he can smell Scott’s desire and it amplifies everything.
Finally, Scott’s hands start to move, roaming over Derek’s body, and his mouth resumes its exploration of Derek’s collarbone. Derek licks his lips, and Scott looks up at the sound; his eyes are red around the edges but still human when he leans in to replace Derek’s tongue with his own. Derek can feel Scott growing hard where their bodies are pressed together, and Scott’s kisses become rougher, more demanding. Scott guides one of Derek’s hands downward to press over his erection through his jeans, and Derek squeezes him gently and starts stroking. He’s so absorbed with listening to the hitch of Scott’s breath, listening for signs of a shift, that the sound of a car door slamming comes as a complete surprise.
Scott tenses, and for a moment his fingernails become claws and fangs press into Derek’s lips. “Fuck,” Scott says, dropping his face into Derek’s neck, human again. There is the sound of the house door opening and closing, and footsteps across the ceiling. “We’re fine,” Scott calls out, voice rough. “Don’t come down here.” It’s too late though, and the footsteps are descending the stairs in a rush.
“Hey guys, I brought you some water,” Stiles is saying as his steps reach the bottom. Derek releases Scott to give him room to step away, but Scott stays where he is and plants his hands on the wall on either side of Derek’s head. Derek can see Stiles appear around the corner over Scott’s shoulder in the dim light, and watches him stop in surprise.
“Put it where we can reach it and go,” Derek tells him. Stiles opens his mouth to say something, but a low growl from Scott makes his jaw snap shut again.
Stiles carefully places two bottles of water within arm’s reach of the cage bars. “I’m not sure if you guys are fighting or making out, but are you okay?”
“We’re fine. Just go.” Stiles backs up slowly, hands raised. “Now,” Derek snaps, because Scott is starting to growl again.
“Okay, I’m going, I’ll just -- I’ll be upstairs if you need anything.” Stiles finally disappears up the stairs, and Derek turns his full attention back to Scott, who is digging claws into the rock. He exposes more of his neck to Scott to try to appease the alpha parts of him, and Scott slowly, gradually retracts his claws.
“Okay?” Derek asks, and Scott nods against his neck.
“Why did I do that?” Scott mumbles, beginning to rub himself against Derek again. He looks up at Derek, but before Derek can answer Scott’s lips are closing over his own again.
“Shutting down a challenge,” Derek gets out when he has a chance to breathe. Scott shifts his thigh between Derek’s legs and the breathy sound that Scott makes sounds a lot more like a horny teenager than an alpha wolf on a full moon.
“What should I . . . ?” Scott mumbles, rubbing himself against Derek’s hip.
“You’re the alpha,” Derek replies, nipping at Scott’s lower lip. “Whatever you need.” Scott’s hands move down to clutch Derek’s ass, squeezing hard, and there is the hint of a growl and a momentary pinprick of claws. Derek takes the hint and turns around, bracing his hands on the wall. Scott’s mouth traces over Derek’s tattoo, tongue following the spirals and sending a tingle through Derek’s spine, while his hands reach around to rub at the bulge in Derek’s jeans. Derek breathes in sharply; he wasn’t expecting any reciprocation from Scott. It feels good, though, very good, and Derek can feel Scott’s smile against his back. “Back pocket,” Derek gets out. “There’s lube. Think you can keep your claws out of things?”
Scott laughs and nips at Derek’s shoulder. It’s a hard enough bite to hurt, but there are no fangs, and Scott reaches into Derek’s pocket with one hand, still stroking him with the other. His hands are gone for a moment then, and Derek takes advantage of the time to strip off his remaining clothes. He hears the sound of a zipper opening behind him, and the rustle of clothing hitting the floor. He can hear Scott’s hesitation, and realizes that Scott has never done this before, not while he had control of his senses. “Use your fingers first,” he tells him. A hand closes over the left side of his ass, and a wet finger slides between his cheeks, thankfully with no claws. Derek spreads his legs wider when Scott’s finger pushes in, dropping his head between his arms. Scott’s mouth is back, pressing sloppy, open-mouthed kisses to Derek’s shoulders. Derek breathes deeply and evenly. “You can use two,” he says, pushing his hips back against Scott’s hand and listening to Scott’s heart beating faster.
Scott adds a second finger, moving his hand faster; his kisses start to be more teeth than lips. He abruptly pulls his fingers out and rests his forehead against Derek’s back, breathing heavily. “Derek, I can’t--”
“It’s okay.” Derek glances over his shoulder into Scott’s glowing eyes, impressed that Scott has managed to last as long as he has without shifting. “Take what you need.” Scott is on him, then, pushing into Derek’s ass, teeth and claws clutching at him. It burns, still sore from earlier, but Scott is not as rough this time; it takes longer as well, since Scott’s already come twice. After a while, Scott starts tracing Derek’s tattoo with his tongue again, and Derek takes one hand off the wall to stroke himself in time with Scott’s thrusts.
Even after so many years, Derek can only focus on so many things at once on a full moon. He concentrates on keeping his human form, and lets go of trying to keep quiet or pay attention to anything outside of his own body. Maybe Scott won’t remember the groans, the way that Derek shivers under his tongue, or the way that Derek pushes his hips back to meet Scott’s. Scott is lost inside himself, claws digging into Derek’s hips and drawing thin trickles of blood, growling low in the back of his throat. Scott closes his teeth on Derek’s neck when he comes, reopening the bite that had just closed, and it pushes Derek over the edge as well, legs trembling, gasping for breath.
Scott is licking at the wound on Derek’s neck when he comes back to himself. He gradually feels Scott’s claws and teeth retract, the licks turning into kisses, and then Scott moves around with his back to the wall and slides down to the floor. Derek catches his breath and finds his pants, pulling them on and grabbing the water Stiles left behind before sitting gingerly next to Scott. “Feel better?” Derek asks, handing him a bottle.
Scott takes a long drink, then nods. “Um. Thanks?”
There is no red left in Scott’s eyes, just a deep, warm brown that makes Derek thinks of pack and security. He manages a smile at Scott, maybe the first time he’s really, genuinely smiled in years, and says, “Go to sleep.”
***
In the morning, Derek suffers through Stiles darting his eyes back and forth between him and Scott, then running his mouth off while he fumbles with the keys and unlocks the cell. Derek snarls at him to shut him up, but there’s no real malice in it. He walks out to the front of the house with Stiles and Scott, and when Scott turns before climbing into the car to give him a smile and wave goodbye, he finds himself smiling back.
***
Thanks to quigonejinn and destronomics for convincing me to finish it instead of throwing the whole thing away.
This entry was originally posted at http://marmolita.dreamwidth.org/3965.html. Please comment there using OpenID.
Also at AO3.
So I wrote this fic because I really just wanted there to be fic of Scott as an alpha screwing Derek into the floor. Somehow it ended up being full of talking about pack and feelings. It can be read either as a straight-up AU of the show from the season 1 finale, or as an AU of my other fic, The Scent of an Alpha.
Warnings: underage, dubious consent/full moon compulsion/sex for the good of the pack. The sex is also somewhat violent.
Derek kneels over Peter’s body, the stench of burned flesh overpowering him. He lets his claws extend, and--
“Wait! You said the cure comes from the one that bit you.” He hesitates, arm pulled back, and turns his head to look at Scott. Scott is breathing hard, eyes flashing in the darkness, and Derek feels nothing but determination from him.
“I told you I didn’t know if it was true,” he says. “Do you even know what will happen if it’s not? You’ve never killed anyone.”
“I don’t care,” Scott replies. “If I don’t kill him, I’m dead. Derek, please.” Decisiveness and force roll off of Scott in waves of scent, triggering an instinctive response in Derek. He retracts his claws and steps away, letting Scott take his place.
“Make sure you cut all the way through his neck,” he advises. “Don’t leave any room for him to heal.” He can’t see Scott’s face anymore, but Scott nods; his claws flash once in the light before coming down, and a splatter of blood hits Derek’s shoes. Scott stands up slowly, retracting and extending the claws on his hand over and over.
“It didn’t work,” Scott says, stalking toward Derek. “Why didn’t it work?” His voice is hard and echoes with an alpha growl; his eyes flash red. Derek is on his knees before he even knows what he’s doing, head tipped to the side and throat bared. It surprises Scott, and he takes a step back. When he speaks again, his voice is back to that of a 16-year-old kid. “Derek, what--”
Derek lets out a short, bitter chuckle, and gets back up to his feet. “You’re the alpha now, Scott.”
***
Derek waits outside Scott’s house the next afternoon. He could have stayed home, waited for Scott to come to him, but--
Well. Scott is the alpha, after all.
Scott doesn’t look too surprised to see him when he pulls into the driveway, unbuckling his helmet and climbing off his bike. “We need to talk,” Derek says, as if it wasn’t obvious. He follows Scott through the garage and into the kitchen. “You feel different now, right?”
“Can’t you just leave me alone?” Scott asks, pouring himself a glass of water. “You can go back to doing whatever it is you do. I can take care of myself.”
Derek crosses his arms over his chest. “We’re stronger together,” he says, watching Scott’s adam’s apple bob up and down as he drains his glass. “A wolf without a pack is no wolf at all.”
“I have a pack,” Scott says, “you said that yourself. Just because they’re not werewolves doesn’t mean they’re not my pack.”
“Who said I was talking about you?” That catches Scott’s attention, and the clink of his glass landing on the counter seems extremely loud. When Scott turns to look at Derek, Derek looks away.
“You’re doing it again,” Scott says. “That thing that you did last night. Except not as much. What is it?”
Derek sighs and rubs the back of his head with one hand. “It’s a sign of submission, okay? Your alpha instincts ought to be telling you that if you were paying attention. I’m not doing it on purpose.”
“Submission? What-- Why would you--” Scott looks so surprised that it takes Derek off guard. Derek turns away.
“Don’t you get it? You’re an alpha and I’m a-- I’m not. What did you think was going to happen?”
“I don’t know! I don’t know, okay?” Scott starts pacing around the room, and Derek can feel the tension coiling around him. “I thought I was going to be cured.”
“Yeah, well, you’re not. Look, letting me join your pack doesn’t mean we have to be friends.”
“What does it mean then? That you’re, like, my servant? Because I don’t want that either.” Scott stops in the middle of the room and looks at Derek with wide eyes.
“It means that we keep each other alive.” Derek puts his hands on Scott’s shoulders. “Scott, pack means that we help each other survive and keep away from the hunters. It means if one of us is in trouble then the rest of the pack comes to help.”
“Don’t we already do that?” Scott’s confusion is palpable. “You helped me get out even though it meant they took you. I called to find out where you were, and you answered, and I came and broke you out of those chains.” He’s right -- Scott is right, they’ve been acting like pack already, but somehow it’s different now.
“Yes. You’re right. Now that you’re alpha though, it needs to be official.”
“Official? What does that even mean?” Derek blows air out of his cheeks, trying to contain his frustration.
“Don’t you feel it, Scott? Don’t your instincts tell you anything? When you went all alpha on me last night and I got down on my fucking knees in front of you what did you want to do? Try it again, right now, and just do whatever your body tells you to do.”
Instead, Scott just looks at Derek, eyes slightly narrowed. “Is that what Peter did to you?” he asks, and his voice is soft and gentle instead of angry.
“Yes and no.” Derek closes his eyes, just for a moment. “Peter was part of my family. We were already pack. He just reinforced it.”
“But Peter bit me, so doesn’t that make us pack already?” Derek realizes, a little more every day, just how much Scott does not know about being a werewolf. Some things come so naturally to him -- controlling the shift, protecting his pack -- that Derek forgets that he didn’t grow up knowing about all of this.
“Look, Scott, there are two ways to become an alpha. One is to be born that way. The other is to kill an alpha. You did a little bit of both. You never felt a desire to join up with Peter, right? That’s because you were never part of his pack, you were already on your way to being an alpha. Killing him just sped up the process. You don’t understand what it’s like-- You don’t know how hard it was for me to go against him.” Derek forces himself to look Scott in the eye, even though his instincts tell him not to. “I’ll never be an alpha,” he says. “It’s not in my nature.” And there it is, the thing he never wanted to have to admit to Scott. He’s glad that Scott killed Peter, glad because it let him off the hook. Because Derek would have become an alpha and it would have been a disaster, but Scott can handle it. Scott would have been an alpha sooner or later anyway.
Scott looks almost sorry for Derek, and it rankles. Then Scott’s lips set in a firm line, and he twists his head and shifts, and then he’s growling and his eyes are flashing and Derek is on his knees again. This time though, there is no surprise. He feels the hot puff of Scott’s breath when Scott bends over him, and then Scott’s teeth are sinking into his neck, and in the midst of the pain Derek feels a moment of connection and wholeness that he hasn’t felt since his sister died.
***
Derek convinces Scott to come to the Hale house for the first full moon after he becomes alpha. Stiles drives Scott out, and because Scott trusts Stiles Derek has to as well.
When they arrive, Derek can already see the effect that the moon is having on Scott. He looks angry, surly, reluctant to be there, and Stiles is overflowing with fear and aggravation. The Hale house was built for raising werewolves, and the caged cells in the basement aren’t for show. It takes Stiles cajoling and Derek manhandling to get Scott to agree to go into the cell. Derek joins Scott, and hands Stiles the keys. “Just lock it and go home,” he tells Stiles. “Come back in the morning to let us out.”
Stiles looks at Derek with the all-too-familiar “are you crazy?” expression, but Derek shuts him up with a glare before he can speak. “We’ll be fine,” he adds. “I won’t hurt him.”
Stiles glances back and forth between Derek and Scott. “I’m not so sure he won’t hurt you,” he finally says, but he turns the key in the lock and heads up the stairs. Derek listens until he hears the engine of the jeep disappear in the distance, but he suspects Stiles will be back before the night is over.
“I don’t know why we’re doing this,” Scott complains. “I was fine on the last full moon.”
“You weren’t an alpha on the last full moon. It’s different.”
“Oh, because you know so much about being an alpha?” Scott turns on Derek, eyes flashing. “I thought you said it wasn’t ‘in your nature’ to be an alpha.”
Derek holds his ground in the middle of the cell. “It’s not. I may not be an alpha but I’ve spent plenty of full moons with them. Can you even hear yourself talking? You don’t sound like yourself, Scott. What do you think would happen if you were out there tonight?”
The sky is dark now, and a tiny sliver of moonlight shines in through the basement window grating. “I think that I should be the one to make those decisions, not you.” Scott backs off for a while, though, and Derek sits against the wall while Scott prowls in circles around the cell. The beam of moonlight crawls slowly across the floor.
Derek tries to relax, but the moonlight is like an itch underneath his skin, and Scott’s prowling is enhancing it. He almost jumps when Scott growls his name. “Derek. We shouldn’t be in here. We should be out. Hunting.”
“No,” Derek replies. “You need to be in here because otherwise you’re going to hurt someone.”
“Maybe I’m going to hurt someone anyway.” Scott stalks toward Derek, claws extended. “Someone who’s overstepping his authority. Someone who thinks he knows what’s best for an alpha when he’s really just a mewling, pitiful omega.” Derek flinches and gets to his feet.
“So you finally figured it out. I guess there are some pack instincts in your thick skull after all.” The bravado is just for show and they both know it. Scott isn’t usually like this -- he’s really a nice, pleasant kid. A good alpha who wants to protect his pack. On a full moon, though, things are different and there is a cruelty to Scott that nobody would suspect.
Scott digs his claws into the rock on either side of Derek’s head. “You didn’t have to lock yourself in here with me,” he says, leaning in to whisper the words close to Derek’s ear. “Why did you do it?”
“You said it yourself.” Derek breathes in the scent of alpha, and exposes more of his neck to Scott. “Omega. If you figured out that much you know why I’m in here.”
Scott growls low in his throat and rakes his teeth across Derek’s neck, then he’s tossing Derek across the room like a rag doll, alpha strength making up for the difference in size and age. Derek struggles to his feet. If this goes well, he can give Scott exactly what he needs. If not-- Well, he’s always been a fast healer, even for a werewolf, and he thinks Scott’s alpha instincts will stop him from killing one of his own pack. This time, when Scott starts toward him, Derek is faster. He steps into Scott’s space and presses his lips to Scott’s, hands sliding over the sides of Scott’s ribcage.
Scott is so startled that he shifts back, claws and teeth retracting, and Derek slips his tongue into Scott’s mouth and grinds their bodies together. Scott puts his hands on Derek’s shoulders and pushes him back, saying, “Derek, what are you--”
“What, you think you can turn your instincts on and off whenever you want? I’m giving you what you need, Scott.”
“But I--”
“It’s not about love or romance.” Derek kisses his way down Scott’s body, sinking to his knees. “It’s about pack. It’s about dominance and hierarchy. It’s about the full moon and bloodlust.” He traces his hands down Scott’s stomach and starts working on the fly of Scott’s jeans. “It’s about distraction and relieving tension, and I’d rather do it this way than have you beat the shit out of me, because if you hadn’t noticed that’s what you were about to do.”
The moonbeam from the grate has inched into the cell, and starts moving up Scott’s leg. Derek listens to Scott’s breathing speed up and pulls him out of his jeans and underwear as Scott clenches and unclenches his hands, claws growing out again and a growl starting from the pit of his belly. Derek curls his tongue around Scott’s half-hard cock, pulling it into his mouth and sucking. Werewolf or not, Scott is sixteen years old, and it’s only a few short minutes before he’s coming into Derek’s mouth.
The alpha in him takes over, then, and shoves Derek face first into the floor. The stone is rough against his cheek, but he doesn’t resist. Scott may be smaller than Derek, but he’s compact and surprisingly heavy for his size. Claws rake down Derek’s back, shredding his t-shirt and scoring bright lines into his skin. Derek struggles to get his jeans and underwear off while pinned to the ground, Scott’s breath and teeth hovering over his neck. He manages to get them down to his knees, which is enough to feel the rough fabric of Scott’s jeans and the sharp edge of Scott’s open zipper pressing into his ass.
Scott rubs himself against Derek’s back, sniffing and licking at the back of Derek’s neck. Derek can feel Scott getting hard again, and is glad that he prepared himself for this earlier. It’s been a few hours but there’s still enough lube in his ass to make this a little less painful, because Scott doesn’t know what he’s doing. Derek grits his teeth when Scott growls next to his ear and closes his teeth over the back of Derek’s neck, the bite and the weight of Scott’s upper body crushing Derek’s face and chest into the cold stone. The claws are gone from his back for a moment, and then the blunt head of Scott’s cock is pressing into Derek’s ass.
Scott pulls Derek’s hands above his head and pins them there with one hand, the other hauling Dereks hips upward to give him a better angle. Scott isn’t particularly big, but Derek bites his lip against the pain when he slides in and starts thrusting without any time to adjust. There is a continuous low growl rumbling in Scott’s chest, and Derek can feel the vibration of it where their bodies touch. He spreads his legs a little wider and pushes back into Scott, relaxing into his role and taking whatever his alpha needs to give him.
Apparently what his alpha needs is to fuck him into the floor, and Derek’s face and chest stick and scratch on the rough edges of stone with each thrust. He would push up onto his hands and knees, but Scott is still holding his hands above his head and Scott’s teeth are still working on his neck. A trickle of blood and saliva drips down from the bite onto the back of Derek’s ear, then around onto his cheek. He reaches his tongue out and catches the edge of it, and it tastes like alpha and like pack. Scott is moving faster now, harder, and Derek can feel Scott’s climax gathering and then bursting over him.
Scott releases Derek’s hands and neck, and rolls off of him. The intensity of it has wiped him out and Derek hears his breathing slow down into sleep almost immediately. Derek’s arms are stiff as he pushes himself up, and there are rapidly healing cuts and scratches all over his chest. He can still feel blood dripping from the bite on his neck as he takes hold of his erection and strokes himself off efficiently. The full moon itch subsides somewhat, and Derek pulls his pants back on and removes his shredded t-shirt. Scott has fallen asleep with his pants around his knees, and doesn’t wake up when Derek manhandles them back into place. He uses the remains of his shirt to wipe up the blood and semen, then settles back against the wall to wait.
He judges it to have been about two hours by the track of the moonlight on the floor before Scott wakes up, slowly pushing himself up to sit. Scott looks human again, although there is still a glint of red in his eyes. “What--” he starts to ask, then his nostrils flare. “Oh. Oh.” He looks around wildly, then his eyes settle on Derek. “Are you okay?”
Derek laughs at the earnestness in Scott’s voice. “I’ll live. We’ve still got quite a few hours left of the full moon. How are you feeling?”
“Um.” Scott scrubs a hand through his hair and Derek can smell his embarrassment. “Still kind of, uh.”
“Twitchy?” Derek supplies.
“But not as bad as before. Look, I didn’t mean to--”
“It’s okay,” Derek says, cutting him off. “Don’t worry about it. If you need to do it again it’s fine. It’s what I’m here for.”
“What you’re here for? What is that supposed to mean?”
“It means I’m getting you through the full moon by letting you take it out on me. That’s what an omega is for.” Derek stretches his arms over his head, twisting his neck and hissing a little at the pain of the still-healing bite. “When the full moon comes there are two things you want to do: kill and fuck. You have to have figured that part out by now at least?” Scott ducks his head, a fringe of mussed hair hanging over his eyes. “So. Until you can learn to control yourself, you can either beat me up or fuck me. It’s your choice, I can’t stop you, but I’d rather not have my guts spilling out at the end of the night.”
“If sex is the answer to not killing anyone you could have told me, I would have called Allison.”
“No, Scott, you don’t get it.” Derek turns around to show Scott the marks on his neck, and Scott has the decency to look ashamed. “That bite you gave me would have killed a human. You can’t keep yourself in human form during sex on a full moon yet so you can’t be trusted with her. Unless you turn someone else and grow this pack, you’re stuck with me and I’m stuck with you.”
“How am I supposed to learn something like that?” Scott asks, cradling his head in his hands.
“Practice. Maybe don’t wait until you can’t stand it anymore next time.” Derek gets to his feet and walks over to Scott. It’s been a long time since Derek played this role, but seduction always came easily to him. He holds out a hand and pulls Scott to his feet, then leans in, mouth inches from Scott’s. “Come on. Put your hands on me. I know you want to; I can smell it on you.”
There’s a growl, and then Derek finds himself being pressed back into the wall. Scott’s claws dig into his hips and he can feel the sharp edges of teeth touching his neck lightly, not quite biting. Scott is trembling with the effort to control himself, and Derek waits it out as the claws slowly retract and the teeth are replaced by lips. When he hears Scott’s heart rate return to normal, he rests his hands on Scott’s shoulders and slides them down Scott’s back, then under the edge of his t-shirt. Scott’s heartbeat picks up a little bit, but not enough to worry about, and he steps back and strips off his shirt.
Derek lets Scott take the lead, trying not to do anything to trigger Scott to shift. Scott’s cheeks are flushed with embarrassment, but he puts one hand on Derek’s chest and uses the other to pull Derek’s head down for a close-mouthed kiss. The skin of Scott’s back is hot under his fingers, muscles shifting smoothly with his movements. If this wasn’t a full moon, and Scott wasn’t his alpha, Derek would have kissed his way down Scott’s neck, sucking marks into his skin. As it is, he knows putting his mouth on Scott’s neck would prickle all of Scott’s alpha instincts as a challenge for dominance, so he settles for sucking Scott’s lower lip into his mouth and tracing his tongue along the edge. They pull apart briefly, and then Scott’s tongue is in Derek’s mouth, sliding against his own, and there are still no fangs involved.
Scott moves closer, body pressing up against Derek’s, and his lips move off through the stubble along Derek’s jaw. “I would try to pretend you’re Allison except for how she has boobs, no facial hair, and is shorter than me,” he mumbles into Derek’s cheek. “Smaller muscles, too.” Derek has to laugh at that, at Scott’s attempt to keep himself in control by lightening the situation, because he can feel Scott’s heart rate picking up again. Derek moves one hand to Scott’s chest, running from his collarbone to his hip and back again. His other hand slides down to the edge of Scott’s jeans, almost coming down over his ass but not quite.
Scott’s mouth moves down Derek’s neck, lips and tongue leaving a wet trail behind. Derek feels the hint of teeth when Scott grabs him by the hips and grinds them together, and then Scott is holding still again, breathing fast and hot against Derek’s skin. Derek’s own heartbeat sounds loud in his ears and he knows Scott is listening to it too. Letting Scott fuck him during an alpha rage -- that is a hard thing to do, but it’s hard in an entirely different way to be patient now, to let Scott take his time, to not touch and to not taste. The itch of the moon crawls under Derek’s skin and even though he’s had plenty of practice keeping himself calm over the years, he can smell Scott’s desire and it amplifies everything.
Finally, Scott’s hands start to move, roaming over Derek’s body, and his mouth resumes its exploration of Derek’s collarbone. Derek licks his lips, and Scott looks up at the sound; his eyes are red around the edges but still human when he leans in to replace Derek’s tongue with his own. Derek can feel Scott growing hard where their bodies are pressed together, and Scott’s kisses become rougher, more demanding. Scott guides one of Derek’s hands downward to press over his erection through his jeans, and Derek squeezes him gently and starts stroking. He’s so absorbed with listening to the hitch of Scott’s breath, listening for signs of a shift, that the sound of a car door slamming comes as a complete surprise.
Scott tenses, and for a moment his fingernails become claws and fangs press into Derek’s lips. “Fuck,” Scott says, dropping his face into Derek’s neck, human again. There is the sound of the house door opening and closing, and footsteps across the ceiling. “We’re fine,” Scott calls out, voice rough. “Don’t come down here.” It’s too late though, and the footsteps are descending the stairs in a rush.
“Hey guys, I brought you some water,” Stiles is saying as his steps reach the bottom. Derek releases Scott to give him room to step away, but Scott stays where he is and plants his hands on the wall on either side of Derek’s head. Derek can see Stiles appear around the corner over Scott’s shoulder in the dim light, and watches him stop in surprise.
“Put it where we can reach it and go,” Derek tells him. Stiles opens his mouth to say something, but a low growl from Scott makes his jaw snap shut again.
Stiles carefully places two bottles of water within arm’s reach of the cage bars. “I’m not sure if you guys are fighting or making out, but are you okay?”
“We’re fine. Just go.” Stiles backs up slowly, hands raised. “Now,” Derek snaps, because Scott is starting to growl again.
“Okay, I’m going, I’ll just -- I’ll be upstairs if you need anything.” Stiles finally disappears up the stairs, and Derek turns his full attention back to Scott, who is digging claws into the rock. He exposes more of his neck to Scott to try to appease the alpha parts of him, and Scott slowly, gradually retracts his claws.
“Okay?” Derek asks, and Scott nods against his neck.
“Why did I do that?” Scott mumbles, beginning to rub himself against Derek again. He looks up at Derek, but before Derek can answer Scott’s lips are closing over his own again.
“Shutting down a challenge,” Derek gets out when he has a chance to breathe. Scott shifts his thigh between Derek’s legs and the breathy sound that Scott makes sounds a lot more like a horny teenager than an alpha wolf on a full moon.
“What should I . . . ?” Scott mumbles, rubbing himself against Derek’s hip.
“You’re the alpha,” Derek replies, nipping at Scott’s lower lip. “Whatever you need.” Scott’s hands move down to clutch Derek’s ass, squeezing hard, and there is the hint of a growl and a momentary pinprick of claws. Derek takes the hint and turns around, bracing his hands on the wall. Scott’s mouth traces over Derek’s tattoo, tongue following the spirals and sending a tingle through Derek’s spine, while his hands reach around to rub at the bulge in Derek’s jeans. Derek breathes in sharply; he wasn’t expecting any reciprocation from Scott. It feels good, though, very good, and Derek can feel Scott’s smile against his back. “Back pocket,” Derek gets out. “There’s lube. Think you can keep your claws out of things?”
Scott laughs and nips at Derek’s shoulder. It’s a hard enough bite to hurt, but there are no fangs, and Scott reaches into Derek’s pocket with one hand, still stroking him with the other. His hands are gone for a moment then, and Derek takes advantage of the time to strip off his remaining clothes. He hears the sound of a zipper opening behind him, and the rustle of clothing hitting the floor. He can hear Scott’s hesitation, and realizes that Scott has never done this before, not while he had control of his senses. “Use your fingers first,” he tells him. A hand closes over the left side of his ass, and a wet finger slides between his cheeks, thankfully with no claws. Derek spreads his legs wider when Scott’s finger pushes in, dropping his head between his arms. Scott’s mouth is back, pressing sloppy, open-mouthed kisses to Derek’s shoulders. Derek breathes deeply and evenly. “You can use two,” he says, pushing his hips back against Scott’s hand and listening to Scott’s heart beating faster.
Scott adds a second finger, moving his hand faster; his kisses start to be more teeth than lips. He abruptly pulls his fingers out and rests his forehead against Derek’s back, breathing heavily. “Derek, I can’t--”
“It’s okay.” Derek glances over his shoulder into Scott’s glowing eyes, impressed that Scott has managed to last as long as he has without shifting. “Take what you need.” Scott is on him, then, pushing into Derek’s ass, teeth and claws clutching at him. It burns, still sore from earlier, but Scott is not as rough this time; it takes longer as well, since Scott’s already come twice. After a while, Scott starts tracing Derek’s tattoo with his tongue again, and Derek takes one hand off the wall to stroke himself in time with Scott’s thrusts.
Even after so many years, Derek can only focus on so many things at once on a full moon. He concentrates on keeping his human form, and lets go of trying to keep quiet or pay attention to anything outside of his own body. Maybe Scott won’t remember the groans, the way that Derek shivers under his tongue, or the way that Derek pushes his hips back to meet Scott’s. Scott is lost inside himself, claws digging into Derek’s hips and drawing thin trickles of blood, growling low in the back of his throat. Scott closes his teeth on Derek’s neck when he comes, reopening the bite that had just closed, and it pushes Derek over the edge as well, legs trembling, gasping for breath.
Scott is licking at the wound on Derek’s neck when he comes back to himself. He gradually feels Scott’s claws and teeth retract, the licks turning into kisses, and then Scott moves around with his back to the wall and slides down to the floor. Derek catches his breath and finds his pants, pulling them on and grabbing the water Stiles left behind before sitting gingerly next to Scott. “Feel better?” Derek asks, handing him a bottle.
Scott takes a long drink, then nods. “Um. Thanks?”
There is no red left in Scott’s eyes, just a deep, warm brown that makes Derek thinks of pack and security. He manages a smile at Scott, maybe the first time he’s really, genuinely smiled in years, and says, “Go to sleep.”
***
In the morning, Derek suffers through Stiles darting his eyes back and forth between him and Scott, then running his mouth off while he fumbles with the keys and unlocks the cell. Derek snarls at him to shut him up, but there’s no real malice in it. He walks out to the front of the house with Stiles and Scott, and when Scott turns before climbing into the car to give him a smile and wave goodbye, he finds himself smiling back.
***
Thanks to quigonejinn and destronomics for convincing me to finish it instead of throwing the whole thing away.
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