[Heat week. It wasn’t Sam’s first experience with the Presentations, but most of the time his brother was the one speaking for the Winchester pack. Except Dean had chosen and bonded with his own mate during the ceremonies last year, leaving the duty of choosing a mate to the next son. Him. Sam knew the drill, he’d seen the rituals year after year. Meeting with the other Alphas, the general wariness among them. It wasn’t personal, but you put so many dominant personalities in one room, you were bound to have some raised hackles here and there.
[Sam was an Alpha, but as the second son, he’d learned at least a little diplomacy along the way. The Omegas and Betas he’d been presented with were interesting, but nothing had sparked his interest, nothing had stirred the attention of his wolf.
“Pay attention to your wolf, Sammy. He’s gonna know when you find someone worth mating with.” It was the only parting advice Dean had given him.
[Hale. Another name, another round of faces. Three new Betas, two of whom were already sharing a scent. They were destined to mate and he wasn’t going to come between them. Which left Sam with another solitary wolf.
[The scent hits him like a two by four. Sam presses past the other Betas and the single wolf to the younger human behind them. Tall, long-limbed, handsome. Everything in his scent screamed mate. Matetakeclaim. His wolf was insistent. It was unusual for a wolf to take a human during Heat week, but not unheard of. He extends his hand. The human was going to be his.] Come with me.
[Stiles knows he's gaping. Everyone else is, too. Even Jackson has been robbed of a witty retort. Stiles isn't claimed, and since Derek gave this Alpha permission, he was free to take any unmated member of the province, human included.
Still. Picking a human. With three Betas already offering themselves. Scott was staring at him. Oh right. He should probably go with the Alpha. Right. Oh God.
Swallowing hard, Stiles timidly slipped his hand into - which pack with this guy from? Turnen? No. Winchester? Yes, that sounded right. Stiles could barely hear Scott over his heartbeat thundering his ears. What was he saying? Breathe Stiles. Calm down. You'll be fine.
He looks back at his pack leader, his best friend, once, and then Derek Hale is there, firmly turning Stiles' head, scenting him. Moving back, to allow Sam to mix his scent with Derek's on Stiles' skin, an exchange. Oh fucking hell. His pack is kneeling. Handing him over. What's his dad going to say? Nothing. He doesn't get to see his father again. Is the room spinning?
[It was his right as an Alpha to lay claim to a member of another province during Heat Week. A tradition going back generations. If the wolves cross-bred, they were less likely to go to war again. It kept the peace. Small price to pay for hundreds of years without war. The Alphas were always wealthy and gave generously to the province and to the families of the Chosen. They didn’t simply steal away their choices in the night, use and discard them. No. Chosen were cherished for the span of a year. Cared for. When the year was up, if they wanted to return (and if the females remained childless), they were free to do so.
[When Derek moved back, Sam moves in, scenting the young man, rubbing his cheek into his neck, his hair. A traditional claiming. Sam can also hear his heartbeat thudding wildly. He was terrified. He risks a whisper.] I’m not going to hurt you. [Chosen were taken care of, but he can imagine how the stories filter down among the humans.
[It was a brief ritual and Sam turned from the pack, Derek and his Chosen falling into step behind him. Now a night of feasting while the Winchester pack presented the province with their requisite gifts, and the pair retired to a cabin provided by the Hale pack to mate.]
[Stiles shakes a little at Sam's words, but follows him obediently, Derek keeping pace with him. He hasn't seen much of the Hale Alpha, even living in his province, but there's something about Derek that manages to calm him. It's probably because the wolf is his Alpha - No. The Alpha who'd claimed him was his Alpha now, not Derek. He'd been Chosen. He didn't belong to the Hale province anymore.
Yeah, he might be panicking a little. Okay, a lot. He's sure everyone can smell it, hear it - Isaac whines softly. He's always been the most emotional sensitive wolf in their small pack. Stiles is still bonded to them, on some level; he thinks it might always be that way, though his ability to sense the pack might wane over the year, being a human. Still, his hand is still encased in the Alpha's, and Stiles ducks his head in a sign of submission as they walk out of the building. The other packs are outside, whispers floating through the crowd when they see a human has been picked. His dad is out there, somewhere.
What were the Alpha rules? Dammit, he hadn't really been listening to Scott's little speech. Fuck...oh, right. Never eat before them. Never challenge them. Don't touch anybody else during Heat week. You are the Alpha's. The Alpha was going to scent him thoroughly and claim him - oh Jesus he was going to claim him. At least the wolf was attractive; though certainly older than Stiles. That didn't seem to matter, however.
He really needed to stop calling him the Alpha. What was he supposed to refer to him as? Alpha Winchester. Sure. Stiles could do that.
Oh he was so fucked. Figuratively and literally. Were they going to let him get his Adderall? The Alpha would certainly kill him if he didn't have it; he'd be annoying as Hell.
Fuck, where were they? Derek was gone. Shit. They were waiting for the other Alphas to cycle through the offered Betas. Stiles swallows hard, holding his tongue when he assumes he's not supposed to speak before his new Alpha, either.]
[He really needed to stop panicking. It was doing unhappy things to his wolf. It wanted to calm him, give him a reassuring neck scruff.. which would probably make him pass out on the spot. Humans didn’t tend to react the same to a press of teeth into their neck.
[Sam watches the other Alphas without really seeing them. He’s too consumed with the young man standing beside him. Lowering his head to be heard over the din, he tries to project a calming vibe. He was his Chosen. He’d be protected. Taken care of.] If you need anything, I can have it brought to you. I’ll set aside time for you to see your family at the feast. [There was no chance of him running. A Chosen fleeing their Alpha was grounds for war, death for the entire pack. But Sam didn’t think he would run.
He wants to bury his face in his neck, but Sam settles for raising their joined hands, scenting at his wrist. Mate. This was his mate. He’d never felt so complete.] My name is Sam. What’s yours?
[Maybe from Scott. Erica liked to nuzzle his neck during their pack piles. But from Alpha Winchester it would probably just make Stiles cower - not that he'd ever admit to cowering.]
I - uh - I have medicine. That I need. [Stiles replies quietly. No, he won't run. Being Chosen is supposed to be good. Maybe not for him, but for the pack. They'd be okay. If he ran, they'd all die. He would never do that to his pack. His family.
Alpha Winchester scents his wrist, and Stiles lets him. He wonders what the wolf smells, what he already knows about Stiles just from his scent. He'd probably smell Scott and Allison, Erica, Isaac - hell, even Jackson, Boyd, and Lydia. Oh great, Lydia. So much for his ten year plan.
He'd smell his father. His jeep. The forest. Probably curly fries. Adderall.
Oh shit, wait his new Alpha spoke. Stiles jolts back to the present situation, eyes wide.] Stiles Stilinski, Pack McCall, Hale Province.
[The answer is automatic. Wait, no, was he supposed to give his full name? His real one? Stiles quivers a little, shrinking and lowering his eyes. Don't challenge the Alpha. Hell no, he's not challenging him. Sam. He's not challenging Sam. He's certainly not taking any chances, either.]
[He smells like everything Sam needs. Stability. Comfort. Warmth. He can smell the woods, his pack.. french fries? Sam releases his hand. As an Alpha, he was bound to wait until that night. Small touches were allowed, but laying claim to his mate would have to wait until later. He still had other duties to fulfill.
[A nod of his head brings a pretty redhead over.] Tell Anna what you need. She'll get it from your pack and arrange a meeting with your family at the feast.
[Sam moves in closer, dragging the backs of his fingers along the side of his face.] Stiles. Don't be afraid. I'll return soon.
[There were rituals he still had to observe, gifts he had to present to Alpha Hale and the Province for the gift of a human to mate with. Stiles. What a nice name.]
[Stiles lets out a soft breath of relief when Sam releases him. He's still spoken for, didn't change anything. But it looked like he'd be lucky enough to have some time before any actual mating-coitus-type of stuff happened.
As soon as Sam departs, Stiles shivers, touching the skin where he'd dragged his fingers across it. He didn't know what the expect from the man and it made him uneasy. Maybe he'd be able to ask Scott, his dad - Sam was going to let him see his family one last time. Stiles would have to remember to be grateful for that later.
Stiles tells Anna about the Addderall; it's all he really needs. He wouldn't mind his laptop, but he doesn't ask for it. He's there to serve Sam. He's been Chosen for it. And he wasn't going to put anyone in danger, so he'd live with it.
It's several hours later before Stiles finds himself seated at Sam's side. No one's touched him since he was Chosen - ushered him into rooms to wait until Sam was finished, but nothing else. He's the only Chosen one from the province. Go figure.
So he sits there, alone, and tries to reign himself in. What's the worst that could happen? Oh yeah. Belonging to a guy he didn't know. An Alpha. Never seeing his pack again, after tonight. His dad. Wasn't sounding too good, really.
But now he's seated at Sam's side, attempting not to fidget while Derek makes an obviously rehearsed speech about how happy everyone is at the Winchester-Hale union or whatever the fuck it was. And people were staring at him. Awesome.]
[More speeches, but at least they were approaching the end of it. Heat week was making all of the wolves restless, and those that had paired off were eager to begin, Sam was no exception. He was also mindful that his mate wasn't in heat. He was human.
[But he would still claim what was his.
[Sam keeps his distance while Stiles meets with his family, hugs his father and bids goodbye to his packmates. His wolf was agitated, ready for its mate.
[Christ. Was Hale going to talk all night? Sam lowers his head, moving to scent his mate again. He breathes in the warm scent of pine, oil and sunlight.] I won't hurt you. [It seems redundant to keep telling him, but Sam feels the need to reassure the human that he's not in any danger.]
[His father is holding back tears. It pretty much breaks Stiles' heart, but they know he has to go. He's Chosen. Nothing anybody can do about it now.
Stiles tries not to blush as Sam scents him, right there in the middle of Derek's speech. It's not uncommon to see mates scenting each other out in public - Scott and Allison did it often enough - but Stiles had never been a mate, and found his cheeks turning bright pink. Jesus, his dad was out there, more likely than not with his eyes on Stiles. But he said nothing, eyes flickering back and forth between Sam and Derek. He wasn't sure if he was supposed to pay attention to Sam or ignore the scenting completely.
Stiles nods at Sam's, biting his lip. Well, he hoped Sam wouldn't hurt him. As long as Stiles didn't try to run or pissed the guy off. There was also the matter of his lack of heat. Lack of self-lubrication, too - he wasn't an Omega. Also the fragility of being human. He'd heard that wolf sex could get pretty rough. Oh God, wolf sex.
Derek finally finishes, and the feast gets underway quickly - all the wolves want to go home. Stiles waits for Sam to eat, then waits a little more, unsure of what he did and didn't need permission for anymore.]
[Sam has had sex with humans before. Humans are infinitely more fragile, and they'd have to rely on outside lubrication to make sure that he doesn't hurt him. His wolf wants to keep Stiles safe and happy.
[His wolf also wants to mount him.
[Like the other Alphas, Sam turns towards his Chosen, breaking a bit of the bread in half and offering it to him. A sharing of food, a preliminary ritual to the eventual mating that would take place that night. First bread, then cheese, then fruit. Every bite gives him a little taste of his skin, the salt of his lips.
[He wants him. He wants the feast to be over with so he can take him someplace quiet and at last mount his mate. Claim him.]
[Stiles looks between Sam and the food for a moment, then accepts it. He has to, anyway. Stiles keeps his head down for most of the meal; feeling a little more despair creep in with each piece of food. He's being claimed, slowly but surely. Sam's tasting him, sharing the food and marking his lips with his scent.
And every time he looks in Sam's eyes, Stiles can see the want. He's losing his virginity tonight. No doubt about it. He hopes his distress isn't too obvious. He can get over it. He will get over it.
Maybe it won't be so bad. Or maybe it will. The guy was in heat, after all. It would probably be up to Stiles to try and make sure he didn't get hurt, if Sam slipped too far into a heat daze.
But it doesn't matter, because within the hour they're being waved off to a cabin. Oh Lord. He's passed these damn cabins before. Tomorrow they'll set off for Sam's province. Where Stiles will have to stay. Maybe he can find someplace to lie down and cry later. Just for a minute.
Stiles is never going to get to visit his mother's grave again. The thought makes his blood run cold, and when they enter the cabin, Stiles does what he probably shouldn't and practically runs to pop a pill. He's going to need it. After a moment of thought, he pops a second one, jittery. Would a third kill him? He doesn't think so, but if he accidentally overdosed it would be just as bad as running away, for the province. Could he overdose on Adderall? Fuck.
Shaking a little, Stiles peeks out of the bathroom. He should apologize for bolting.] ...Sorry, Alpha Winchester. I needed to, um, my medicine. That I mentioned earlier. Sorry.
[Sam tries to keep his motions gentle, tries to calm him. He wants Stiles, wants this to be pleasant for him, or at least minimize his fear and discomfort. After heat has passed, he'll be better equipped to talk to him, to soothe him and remind Stiles that he only has to stay for a year. He's not obligated to stay any longer. If he wants to go home, he can.
[After heat. As they approach the cabin, all he can think about is his scent. Pulling Stiles beneath him and marking him completely. Drenching him in his scent. Marking him
[Then Stiles bolts out of his grasp. The effort to stay, to not pursue him is monumental, but Sam keeps himself rooted to the spot. Could his medicine be that necessary? He extends his hands.] Sam. Remember. Just Sam.
[Sam is quiet. Gentle, but quiet. Stiles wonders if it will be like that the entire year. Silence and sex. Not that Sam's a bad looking guy, but the silence was a little...weird. But Stiles guessed he'd have to get used to it; unknowing that it was just a heat thing.
Stiles swallows thickly and obeys, stepping out of the doorway and taking Sam's hands. Is that going to be a regular thing, too? Straightforward orders? At least there was a 'please' tacked on that one. Come here, please. Let me mount you and take you away from your home, please.
...He'd just wait until Sam told him to bend over before the jury was out on that one.] ...Sam.
I'm not going to run. [Stiles promises quietly. He probably - definitely - shouldn't have run from an Alpha. But he could already feel the Adderall working through his system, sharpening his thoughts and helping him tamp down his emotions, giving him a new wave of energy. He was going to definitely need that energy if Sam's heat went on all night...more like all week. Stiles didn't exactly have the stamina Sam would probably need for his heat.
He wonders if Sam will bite him. He doesn't want the bite, but if Sam tries to give it to him, Stiles will be forced to accept, as Sam's mate.
Peter Hale tried to mate with him, once. Luckily, he didn't have a proper claim, and Scott formed his original pack quickly enough to save Stiles' ass. Just in time, actually. Right around when everyone who was going to be a werewolf became one, and everyone who wasn't, stayed human. Kind of disappointing when he wasn't, but that was his life. Scott had been a surprise - but his father could have been a wolf. No one knew.] I-I'm not...going to run.
[The second time he says it, it's more of an affirmation for himself than it is for Sam. The wolf could catch him in two seconds flat - even if he did run, he wasn't making it that far. But Stiles wouldn't let himself do that.
Normally, he'd be talking Sam's ear off. Telling him about how his pale body left more than a little to be desired, how he had the worst attention span disorders in the history of oh look a bird, how he wasn't even 18 yet - all of the reasons why this was a big mistake - but he already knew Sam had to have picked him for a reason, and wouldn't be deterred. Frankly, Stiles didn't think Sam would care about any of that, anyway. Stiles was his Chosen. His property, now. Everything he was before was idle chatter. He was just Chosen.
So instead he says nothing, just stands there in front of Sam, who is really quite humongous, and Stiles finds himself wondering if this is Sam's usual girth, what the hell was his dick like? How was Stiles going to fit something like that inside of his body?
Doesn't matter. It'll fit, or Sam will make it fit. Stiles suppresses a shiver, letting his hands go limp in Sam's grasp. He's not going to do anything to upset the Alpha.
...Well, if he fails, it won't be for lack of trying.]
[Not for the first time in his life, Sam curses being a wolf. He hates the way Stiles is looking everywhere but at him, hates the way he’s meekly submitting to everything, his hands cool and limp in his. He doesn’t want this. He doesn’t want to be Chosen, doesn’t want to be taken away from his family, and here comes Sam. The well-meaning monster. Stealing him away for a year, but it’s okay folks. Really. He’s leaving lots of badly needed supplies in his wake. That’ll about cover the cost, right?
[Maybe it’s good Stiles can’t look at him. Alphas aren’t supposed to be consumed with self-loathing. Not in the middle of heat. But it helps him keep a handle on his wolf.
[Sam drags in a shaking breath and immediately regrets it. All he can smell is Stiles. The scents of other wolves. He has to drown out those smells. Cover him in his own scent.
[Sweat prickles along his skin and he pulls away, putting some of the furniture between them. Maybe that would help them both, he didn’t know. ]
I won’t hurt you. I can’t. My wolf.. can’t hurt you. [Jesus. He’s gasping for air, desperate for release.His entire body one solid line of need.] You’re not going to get turned or treated badly. Tonight.. [Sam takes another shaking breath, his claws popping out. It’s an odd contrast to the pleading in his eyes.] Don’t say no. Please.
[If he said no, if he ran, his control might falter. He might take him. Might hurt him. His wolf is in rut and he has to mate.]
[Stiles won't deny he's shocked when Sam moves away. The man's been scenting him all night and now...now he's asking for permission?
Stiles has seen wolves in heat. He's seen wolves crazed with need. Alphas are no exception; but Sam is a lot scarier because Stiles is his, he's the one who's supposed to fix that. He swallows again and leaves his arms by his side, no challenge in his stance whatsoever.]
I don't think I get a say, Sam. I'm yours. [Stiles hesitantly made eye contact with the Alpha. He doesn't tell him he's a virgin; he'll figure it out by Stiles' complete lack of experience. It was his to take, anyway; a right Sam had, to choose Stiles and take anything and everything he had to offer.
Hey, that was even better, right? No one had ever claimed him. That should please Sam, right?]
I'm Chosen. [Stiles ducks his head in a sign of acknowledgement, though Sam could probably smell his nerves.] I'm not going to fight it.
[Sam was an Alpha, but as the second son, he’d learned at least a little diplomacy along the way. The Omegas and Betas he’d been presented with were interesting, but nothing had sparked his interest, nothing had stirred the attention of his wolf.
“Pay attention to your wolf, Sammy. He’s gonna know when you find someone worth mating with.” It was the only parting advice Dean had given him.
[Hale. Another name, another round of faces. Three new Betas, two of whom were already sharing a scent. They were destined to mate and he wasn’t going to come between them. Which left Sam with another solitary wolf.
[The scent hits him like a two by four. Sam presses past the other Betas and the single wolf to the younger human behind them. Tall, long-limbed, handsome. Everything in his scent screamed mate. Matetakeclaim. His wolf was insistent. It was unusual for a wolf to take a human during Heat week, but not unheard of. He extends his hand. The human was going to be his.] Come with me.
[His choice had been made.]
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Still. Picking a human. With three Betas already offering themselves. Scott was staring at him. Oh right. He should probably go with the Alpha. Right. Oh God.
Swallowing hard, Stiles timidly slipped his hand into - which pack with this guy from? Turnen? No. Winchester? Yes, that sounded right. Stiles could barely hear Scott over his heartbeat thundering his ears. What was he saying? Breathe Stiles. Calm down. You'll be fine.
He looks back at his pack leader, his best friend, once, and then Derek Hale is there, firmly turning Stiles' head, scenting him. Moving back, to allow Sam to mix his scent with Derek's on Stiles' skin, an exchange. Oh fucking hell. His pack is kneeling. Handing him over. What's his dad going to say? Nothing. He doesn't get to see his father again. Is the room spinning?
...He's a virgin.
Yes, definitely spinning.]
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[When Derek moved back, Sam moves in, scenting the young man, rubbing his cheek into his neck, his hair. A traditional claiming. Sam can also hear his heartbeat thudding wildly. He was terrified. He risks a whisper.] I’m not going to hurt you. [Chosen were taken care of, but he can imagine how the stories filter down among the humans.
[It was a brief ritual and Sam turned from the pack, Derek and his Chosen falling into step behind him. Now a night of feasting while the Winchester pack presented the province with their requisite gifts, and the pair retired to a cabin provided by the Hale pack to mate.]
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Yeah, he might be panicking a little. Okay, a lot. He's sure everyone can smell it, hear it - Isaac whines softly. He's always been the most emotional sensitive wolf in their small pack. Stiles is still bonded to them, on some level; he thinks it might always be that way, though his ability to sense the pack might wane over the year, being a human. Still, his hand is still encased in the Alpha's, and Stiles ducks his head in a sign of submission as they walk out of the building. The other packs are outside, whispers floating through the crowd when they see a human has been picked. His dad is out there, somewhere.
What were the Alpha rules? Dammit, he hadn't really been listening to Scott's little speech. Fuck...oh, right. Never eat before them. Never challenge them. Don't touch anybody else during Heat week. You are the Alpha's. The Alpha was going to scent him thoroughly and claim him - oh Jesus he was going to claim him. At least the wolf was attractive; though certainly older than Stiles. That didn't seem to matter, however.
He really needed to stop calling him the Alpha. What was he supposed to refer to him as? Alpha Winchester. Sure. Stiles could do that.
Oh he was so fucked. Figuratively and literally. Were they going to let him get his Adderall? The Alpha would certainly kill him if he didn't have it; he'd be annoying as Hell.
Fuck, where were they? Derek was gone. Shit. They were waiting for the other Alphas to cycle through the offered Betas. Stiles swallows hard, holding his tongue when he assumes he's not supposed to speak before his new Alpha, either.]
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[Sam watches the other Alphas without really seeing them. He’s too consumed with the young man standing beside him. Lowering his head to be heard over the din, he tries to project a calming vibe. He was his Chosen. He’d be protected. Taken care of.] If you need anything, I can have it brought to you. I’ll set aside time for you to see your family at the feast. [There was no chance of him running. A Chosen fleeing their Alpha was grounds for war, death for the entire pack. But Sam didn’t think he would run.
He wants to bury his face in his neck, but Sam settles for raising their joined hands, scenting at his wrist. Mate. This was his mate. He’d never felt so complete.] My name is Sam. What’s yours?
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I - uh - I have medicine. That I need. [Stiles replies quietly. No, he won't run. Being Chosen is supposed to be good. Maybe not for him, but for the pack. They'd be okay. If he ran, they'd all die. He would never do that to his pack. His family.
Alpha Winchester scents his wrist, and Stiles lets him. He wonders what the wolf smells, what he already knows about Stiles just from his scent. He'd probably smell Scott and Allison, Erica, Isaac - hell, even Jackson, Boyd, and Lydia. Oh great, Lydia. So much for his ten year plan.
He'd smell his father. His jeep. The forest. Probably curly fries. Adderall.
Oh shit, wait his new Alpha spoke. Stiles jolts back to the present situation, eyes wide.] Stiles Stilinski, Pack McCall, Hale Province.
[The answer is automatic. Wait, no, was he supposed to give his full name? His real one? Stiles quivers a little, shrinking and lowering his eyes. Don't challenge the Alpha. Hell no, he's not challenging him. Sam. He's not challenging Sam. He's certainly not taking any chances, either.]
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[A nod of his head brings a pretty redhead over.] Tell Anna what you need. She'll get it from your pack and arrange a meeting with your family at the feast.
[Sam moves in closer, dragging the backs of his fingers along the side of his face.] Stiles. Don't be afraid. I'll return soon.
[There were rituals he still had to observe, gifts he had to present to Alpha Hale and the Province for the gift of a human to mate with. Stiles. What a nice name.]
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As soon as Sam departs, Stiles shivers, touching the skin where he'd dragged his fingers across it. He didn't know what the expect from the man and it made him uneasy. Maybe he'd be able to ask Scott, his dad - Sam was going to let him see his family one last time. Stiles would have to remember to be grateful for that later.
Stiles tells Anna about the Addderall; it's all he really needs. He wouldn't mind his laptop, but he doesn't ask for it. He's there to serve Sam. He's been Chosen for it. And he wasn't going to put anyone in danger, so he'd live with it.
It's several hours later before Stiles finds himself seated at Sam's side. No one's touched him since he was Chosen - ushered him into rooms to wait until Sam was finished, but nothing else. He's the only Chosen one from the province. Go figure.
So he sits there, alone, and tries to reign himself in. What's the worst that could happen? Oh yeah. Belonging to a guy he didn't know. An Alpha. Never seeing his pack again, after tonight. His dad. Wasn't sounding too good, really.
But now he's seated at Sam's side, attempting not to fidget while Derek makes an obviously rehearsed speech about how happy everyone is at the Winchester-Hale union or whatever the fuck it was. And people were staring at him. Awesome.]
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[But he would still claim what was his.
[Sam keeps his distance while Stiles meets with his family, hugs his father and bids goodbye to his packmates. His wolf was agitated, ready for its mate.
[Christ. Was Hale going to talk all night? Sam lowers his head, moving to scent his mate again. He breathes in the warm scent of pine, oil and sunlight.] I won't hurt you. [It seems redundant to keep telling him, but Sam feels the need to reassure the human that he's not in any danger.]
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Stiles tries not to blush as Sam scents him, right there in the middle of Derek's speech. It's not uncommon to see mates scenting each other out in public - Scott and Allison did it often enough - but Stiles had never been a mate, and found his cheeks turning bright pink. Jesus, his dad was out there, more likely than not with his eyes on Stiles. But he said nothing, eyes flickering back and forth between Sam and Derek. He wasn't sure if he was supposed to pay attention to Sam or ignore the scenting completely.
Stiles nods at Sam's, biting his lip. Well, he hoped Sam wouldn't hurt him. As long as Stiles didn't try to run or pissed the guy off. There was also the matter of his lack of heat. Lack of self-lubrication, too - he wasn't an Omega. Also the fragility of being human. He'd heard that wolf sex could get pretty rough. Oh God, wolf sex.
Derek finally finishes, and the feast gets underway quickly - all the wolves want to go home. Stiles waits for Sam to eat, then waits a little more, unsure of what he did and didn't need permission for anymore.]
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[His wolf also wants to mount him.
[Like the other Alphas, Sam turns towards his Chosen, breaking a bit of the bread in half and offering it to him. A sharing of food, a preliminary ritual to the eventual mating that would take place that night. First bread, then cheese, then fruit. Every bite gives him a little taste of his skin, the salt of his lips.
[He wants him. He wants the feast to be over with so he can take him someplace quiet and at last mount his mate. Claim him.]
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And every time he looks in Sam's eyes, Stiles can see the want. He's losing his virginity tonight. No doubt about it. He hopes his distress isn't too obvious. He can get over it. He will get over it.
Maybe it won't be so bad. Or maybe it will. The guy was in heat, after all. It would probably be up to Stiles to try and make sure he didn't get hurt, if Sam slipped too far into a heat daze.
But it doesn't matter, because within the hour they're being waved off to a cabin. Oh Lord. He's passed these damn cabins before. Tomorrow they'll set off for Sam's province. Where Stiles will have to stay. Maybe he can find someplace to lie down and cry later. Just for a minute.
Stiles is never going to get to visit his mother's grave again. The thought makes his blood run cold, and when they enter the cabin, Stiles does what he probably shouldn't and practically runs to pop a pill. He's going to need it. After a moment of thought, he pops a second one, jittery. Would a third kill him? He doesn't think so, but if he accidentally overdosed it would be just as bad as running away, for the province. Could he overdose on Adderall? Fuck.
Shaking a little, Stiles peeks out of the bathroom. He should apologize for bolting.] ...Sorry, Alpha Winchester. I needed to, um, my medicine. That I mentioned earlier. Sorry.
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[After heat. As they approach the cabin, all he can think about is his scent. Pulling Stiles beneath him and marking him completely. Drenching him in his scent. Marking him
[Then Stiles bolts out of his grasp. The effort to stay, to not pursue him is monumental, but Sam keeps himself rooted to the spot. Could his medicine be that necessary? He extends his hands.] Sam. Remember. Just Sam.
Come here. Please.
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Stiles swallows thickly and obeys, stepping out of the doorway and taking Sam's hands. Is that going to be a regular thing, too? Straightforward orders? At least there was a 'please' tacked on that one. Come here, please. Let me mount you and take you away from your home, please.
...He'd just wait until Sam told him to bend over before the jury was out on that one.] ...Sam.
I'm not going to run. [Stiles promises quietly. He probably - definitely - shouldn't have run from an Alpha. But he could already feel the Adderall working through his system, sharpening his thoughts and helping him tamp down his emotions, giving him a new wave of energy. He was going to definitely need that energy if Sam's heat went on all night...more like all week. Stiles didn't exactly have the stamina Sam would probably need for his heat.
He wonders if Sam will bite him. He doesn't want the bite, but if Sam tries to give it to him, Stiles will be forced to accept, as Sam's mate.
Peter Hale tried to mate with him, once. Luckily, he didn't have a proper claim, and Scott formed his original pack quickly enough to save Stiles' ass. Just in time, actually. Right around when everyone who was going to be a werewolf became one, and everyone who wasn't, stayed human. Kind of disappointing when he wasn't, but that was his life. Scott had been a surprise - but his father could have been a wolf. No one knew.] I-I'm not...going to run.
[The second time he says it, it's more of an affirmation for himself than it is for Sam. The wolf could catch him in two seconds flat - even if he did run, he wasn't making it that far. But Stiles wouldn't let himself do that.
Normally, he'd be talking Sam's ear off. Telling him about how his pale body left more than a little to be desired, how he had the worst attention span disorders in the history of oh look a bird, how he wasn't even 18 yet - all of the reasons why this was a big mistake - but he already knew Sam had to have picked him for a reason, and wouldn't be deterred. Frankly, Stiles didn't think Sam would care about any of that, anyway. Stiles was his Chosen. His property, now. Everything he was before was idle chatter. He was just Chosen.
So instead he says nothing, just stands there in front of Sam, who is really quite humongous, and Stiles finds himself wondering if this is Sam's usual girth, what the hell was his dick like? How was Stiles going to fit something like that inside of his body?
Doesn't matter. It'll fit, or Sam will make it fit. Stiles suppresses a shiver, letting his hands go limp in Sam's grasp. He's not going to do anything to upset the Alpha.
...Well, if he fails, it won't be for lack of trying.]
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[Maybe it’s good Stiles can’t look at him. Alphas aren’t supposed to be consumed with self-loathing. Not in the middle of heat. But it helps him keep a handle on his wolf.
[Sam drags in a shaking breath and immediately regrets it. All he can smell is Stiles. The scents of other wolves. He has to drown out those smells. Cover him in his own scent.
[Sweat prickles along his skin and he pulls away, putting some of the furniture between them. Maybe that would help them both, he didn’t know. ]
I won’t hurt you. I can’t. My wolf.. can’t hurt you. [Jesus. He’s gasping for air, desperate for release.His entire body one solid line of need.] You’re not going to get turned or treated badly. Tonight.. [Sam takes another shaking breath, his claws popping out. It’s an odd contrast to the pleading in his eyes.] Don’t say no. Please.
[If he said no, if he ran, his control might falter. He might take him. Might hurt him. His wolf is in rut and he has to mate.]
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Stiles has seen wolves in heat. He's seen wolves crazed with need. Alphas are no exception; but Sam is a lot scarier because Stiles is his, he's the one who's supposed to fix that. He swallows again and leaves his arms by his side, no challenge in his stance whatsoever.]
I don't think I get a say, Sam. I'm yours. [Stiles hesitantly made eye contact with the Alpha. He doesn't tell him he's a virgin; he'll figure it out by Stiles' complete lack of experience. It was his to take, anyway; a right Sam had, to choose Stiles and take anything and everything he had to offer.
Hey, that was even better, right? No one had ever claimed him. That should please Sam, right?]
I'm Chosen. [Stiles ducks his head in a sign of acknowledgement, though Sam could probably smell his nerves.] I'm not going to fight it.
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