[The quiet resignation in his voice is probably worse than bitterness or anger. Instead of provoking an angry response, it brings his guilt to bear, warring with his heat. He’d found his mate and because of his heat, his overpowering instinct to mate, he was going to lose him forever. Sam’s hands close around his again. He can’t reveal more of his skin, his scent. It was hard enough to be around him right now and not do what his wolf was demanding. Mate.Take.Claim.] You’ll see them again. When.. when it’s safe. After this week.
[Tradition demanded he take his mate back to his province for a year. To thoroughly claim him, to determine if a true mating bond was there. But Sam knew the law, knew the codes laid down. Stiles was young enough. He could stay if he wished.] I.. I won’t force you to come with me.
[He was going to lose his mate. The only mate he’d ever be happy with and the heartbreak was so sudden and sharp that it cut through the haze of heat.] I’ll talk to Derek.
[But he couldn’t stop himself tonight. Tonight he would bury himself in his mate. Tomorrow and for the rest of his life, he could grieve for what he’d lost.]
...No. You can't - [Stiles bit back his words, feeling a flare of anger and hurt wash through him. Sam had Chosen him, and he'd accepted it. Sam had gifted his pack, his province, and now he was going to what? Use him for the week and toss him back? Stiles couldn't pull away, but he would've if he could've. No. Sam shouldn't be allowed to treat him like that.
But he was allowed. As an Alpha, Sam could do whatever the fuck he wanted. To take his virginity and give him back, shame him in front of his entire province. As if Stiles' life didn't suck enough. A failed Alpha mate. Nice going, Stilinski.]
[He can't do this. Not while heat has his mind fogged and is starting to seriously test his control. Stiles doesn't understand. He doesn't understand what Sam is trying to tell him, or that he's willing to let him go to return to his family. What he needs is Stiles. His skin, his scent, he needs to cool the fire that was making his blood boil and his wolf restless.]
I'm sorry. You don't understand. [Slowly he drags down the zipper of his hoodie, pushing it off his shoulders and down his arms. The scent of his skin hits Sam like a hammer and he wrenches his shirt, heedless of the buttons popping and flying around the room. His hand cups his jaw, tilting his head back so he can scent his neck, mark him completely.] I'm sorry Stiles. I'm sorry but I need this. I need you.
Oh I understand. [Stiles mutters darkly, but then Sam is undressing him, suddenly and quickly, and he gasps in surprise, trembling a little when the buttons of his shirt pop and Sam pulls it from his body, scenting him like his life depends on it. Stiles complies with the hand cupping his jaw, shivering as Sam scents his neck.]
Fine. You can have me. [Stiles hates this. That Sam is going to make him beg to stay so he doesn't let his province down. It's embarrassing and he doesn't need another person showing him how much he doesn't matter, a stupid human.
They can't afford to return the gifts anyway, which was exactly what Derek would do if Sam gave Stiles back. He hadn't thought the Alpha was a bad guy, not really, until just now, misunderstanding Sam's intentions.] Do it.
[Later, Sam will drown in guilt, certain that his fated mate loathes him. Not as much as he'll hate himself, but that's never stopped a Winchester before. For now, the angry pitch of his words only gets a frustrated growl in response. He's his mate. As a human, Stiles didn't understand what that meant and he wasn't in the right frame of mind to even tell him that he'd die before he hurt Stiles. Literally die for his mate.
[Sam crowds him back towards the expansive bed. He's beyond words. If he doesn't do it soon, he might hurt him.
[And it was clear Stiles already hated him.
[Closing his eyes, Sam pulls the remnants of his shirt off, discarding it on the floor. He works at Stiles's shirt next, pushing it up over his head and laying it at the end of the bed.
[Stiles may hate him, but he can at least try to show him how cherished he is.]
[Sam growls at him, and the anger/hurt melts away into heart-pumping fear. Stiles stumbles back against the bed, confused as Sam wasn't as careless with Stiles' clothes, bothering to preserve them at the end of the bed.
Unsure of whether the tears in his eyes were fear or anger, Stiles thumbed the button on his jeans, opening them. Sam looked like he was about to lose it - Stiles shouldn't have been arguing with him anyway.
He swallows, lowering his eyes and unzipping his fly. Right. Sam wanted to mate and Stiles would just have to deal with the humiliation later.] I'm sorry. I didn't mean to - I know my place. [Fucking playtoy, apparently.] Please forgive me.
[Stiles is doing nothing to help calm Sam's general agitation. Knows his place? Does he have any idea the kind of power he had over Sam now? Jesus. Stiles could ask him for anything at all and he'd be hard-pressed to refuse him. He's not some toy to fuck and throw away.
[A strangled sound that's somewhere between a snarl and a sob tears it's way from Sam's throat and he falls to his knees, claws digging into his palms hard enough to draw blood. The pain helps.
[Fuck. Maybe he should opt for the silver chains for the week and be done with it.]
You don't.. you don't understand. You're my mate. [The word mate is almost howled.] You're part of a pack, don't you see?
[He looks down at the blood in his hands, the swiftly healing cuts.] I'm a monster, I get that. But I'd die before I hurt you.
[Stiles can't help but flinch when Sam drops to the ground, claws extended. For a brief second he thinks he's about to die - but Sam is hurting himself and that just really doesn't make any sense to Stiles.]
M-my pack is gone. [Stiles stutters, pausing at how broken Sam sounds at the word 'mate'.] You're my Alpha now.
[And Stiles really does freeze, now, dropping to sit on the bed. What?
Sam...isn't a monster. Unless he forced shame on Stiles' province, he wasn't...but to die for him? What the hell had Stiles ever done for that kind of loyalty? ]
Look, just, [Stiles swallows, threading his fingers together nervously.] Just do it, okay?
You - you're not thinking straight...just take me.
[No, he wasn't thinking straight. He was burning up with the need to take Stiles and it was making his control shakier by the minute. Sam screws his eyes shut, making a low broken sound.] I'd die before I hurt you, Stiles.
[But he can't wait any longer. He simply can't. Slowly the wolf uncoils, crawling up the teen's body, covering it with his as he went until he was pressing him into the bed. His chest heaving, Sam noses at his jaw again, hands pushing at his shirt.
[Stiles seriously doesn't know what to do with that. Weren't Alphas supposed to intimidate and growl menacingly and claim the hell out of their Chosen? Stiles really wishes he'd paid attention to Scott's boring wolf-politics spiels now, about how the mating process worked, versus the Chosen ceremonies.
He bites his lip and unzips his pants as Sam crawls on top of him, pinning him to the bed. Sam's claws are extended, which makes Stiles a little nervous, but at least he doesn't see any sharp, skin-ripping teeth...yet.
And if Stiles weren't so terrified and fairly unwilling, he'd have a chance to stop and enjoy the view. Sam was beautiful. Really, truly beautiful. He's got drool-worthy abs and warm, sun-kissed skin - well fuck, he must have been disappointed in the runt he was stuck with as a mate, hm?]
H-how- what, um, [Stiles asks quietly, deciding to ignore all of the problems he's starting to notice and just give Sam what he needs, like he's supposed to, as a Chosen one.] ...What do you want me to do, Sam?
Don't be afraid.. of me. [The claws retract and he glides his hands along Stiles' chest as if he's trying to map every line of him. Stopping to mark his neck and chest, rubbing his cheek into him, drenching Stiles in his scent. His.
[At least for a year.
[Sam twists, kicking his pants off, leaving him in his shorts as he presses every line of his body against his mate. His fragile, human mate. Every scent mark is chased with a kiss pressed into his body.] Don't be afraid.
[He's so hard it hurts, sure he's going to wind up mating all night just to work off the pent up frustration of the evening.]
I- [Stiles is distracted by Sam's scenting and marking, eyelashes fluttering as the man presses into him, feeling Sam's hard length against him as Sam discarded his pants.] ...I'll try.
[He will try. He's Chosen - and he'd rather not shame his entire province, thankyouverymuch.
All night? Stiles might pass out. He certainly doesn't have that kind of stamina, though he doubts he's going to find any pleasure in it; but his ass will need a reprieve at some point. Unless Sam was lying about not hurting him, which, Stiles didn't know the guy so he wouldn't put it past him.
Still, he's seen his pack go through heat, seen the intensity - although with how hard Sam is, Stiles wonders if it's even worse for Alphas.]
[Heat is worse for Alphas, but their control is stronger. Most of the time. Sam will do his best not to hurt or frighten him.
[He nuzzles along his jaw, fingers in his hair. His scent was addictive, the warm lay of his skin beneath his fingers. So he continues on, scenting and marking his bare chest, neck, even his arms. Everywhere. Touching Stiles helps calm the heat, helps give him some clarity.
[There are no more words; he's not sure he can manage them at the moment anyway. Sam strokes down his sides, fingers hooking his jeans, tugging them down.]
[Stiles isn't sure what to expect, or how much participation Sam wanted from him. It could be possible that he didn't even want Stiles to move - didn't matter, as Stiles currently didn't have anywhere to move, completely blanketed by Sam as the Alpha scented him, smothering all traces of Stiles' pack. His breaths were coming in soft, shallow movements, not wanting to disrupt Sam while he nuzzled as the teen's jaw, ran fingers through his hair and explored his Chosen.
He swallows hard, but lifts his hips obediently when Sam tugs at his jeans, letting him slip the fabric down over Stiles' comparatively narrow hips. God he hopes Sam knows what he's doing and doesn't just plow into his body. Blood isn't exactly the most fun or effective lubricant out there.]
[He wants more. Sam prefers a more active lover, someone looking to participate. Most of the time the Omegas he'd chosen were at least willing, lost in heat as well. It was different with a human. His skin is jumping with power, itching to touch and be touched. He'd lean into any touch, any pass of Stiles's hands along his body.
[The exploration, the scent marking complete, Sam braces himself on his arms. His skin is bright with sweat, eyes blown wide and dark with lust.} Need.. I need.. [His arms start to shake and he very nearly goes over reaching for the bedside table and the drawer.
Woah! [Stiles automatically latches onto Sam when he starts to tip over, so consumed with his heat, sweating and shaking. Stiles tries to keep him up as the wolf retrieves lube, watching with a hint of worry in his eyes. Was Sam okay? Would he be able to...satisfy, the Alpha? This heat was starting to look pretty damn serious...
Stiles let his grip loosen, but didn't remove it completely, awkwardly leaving his arm draped around Sam's chest from where he'd latched on to haul him up.] Y-you okay?
[Tradition demanded he take his mate back to his province for a year. To thoroughly claim him, to determine if a true mating bond was there. But Sam knew the law, knew the codes laid down. Stiles was young enough. He could stay if he wished.] I.. I won’t force you to come with me.
[He was going to lose his mate. The only mate he’d ever be happy with and the heartbreak was so sudden and sharp that it cut through the haze of heat.] I’ll talk to Derek.
[But he couldn’t stop himself tonight. Tonight he would bury himself in his mate. Tomorrow and for the rest of his life, he could grieve for what he’d lost.]
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But he was allowed. As an Alpha, Sam could do whatever the fuck he wanted. To take his virginity and give him back, shame him in front of his entire province. As if Stiles' life didn't suck enough. A failed Alpha mate. Nice going, Stilinski.]
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I'm sorry. You don't understand. [Slowly he drags down the zipper of his hoodie, pushing it off his shoulders and down his arms. The scent of his skin hits Sam like a hammer and he wrenches his shirt, heedless of the buttons popping and flying around the room. His hand cups his jaw, tilting his head back so he can scent his neck, mark him completely.] I'm sorry Stiles. I'm sorry but I need this. I need you.
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Fine. You can have me. [Stiles hates this. That Sam is going to make him beg to stay so he doesn't let his province down. It's embarrassing and he doesn't need another person showing him how much he doesn't matter, a stupid human.
They can't afford to return the gifts anyway, which was exactly what Derek would do if Sam gave Stiles back. He hadn't thought the Alpha was a bad guy, not really, until just now, misunderstanding Sam's intentions.] Do it.
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[Sam crowds him back towards the expansive bed. He's beyond words. If he doesn't do it soon, he might hurt him.
[And it was clear Stiles already hated him.
[Closing his eyes, Sam pulls the remnants of his shirt off, discarding it on the floor. He works at Stiles's shirt next, pushing it up over his head and laying it at the end of the bed.
[Stiles may hate him, but he can at least try to show him how cherished he is.]
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Unsure of whether the tears in his eyes were fear or anger, Stiles thumbed the button on his jeans, opening them. Sam looked like he was about to lose it - Stiles shouldn't have been arguing with him anyway.
He swallows, lowering his eyes and unzipping his fly. Right. Sam wanted to mate and Stiles would just have to deal with the humiliation later.] I'm sorry. I didn't mean to - I know my place. [Fucking playtoy, apparently.] Please forgive me.
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[A strangled sound that's somewhere between a snarl and a sob tears it's way from Sam's throat and he falls to his knees, claws digging into his palms hard enough to draw blood. The pain helps.
[Fuck. Maybe he should opt for the silver chains for the week and be done with it.]
You don't.. you don't understand. You're my mate. [The word mate is almost howled.] You're part of a pack, don't you see?
[He looks down at the blood in his hands, the swiftly healing cuts.] I'm a monster, I get that. But I'd die before I hurt you.
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M-my pack is gone. [Stiles stutters, pausing at how broken Sam sounds at the word 'mate'.] You're my Alpha now.
[And Stiles really does freeze, now, dropping to sit on the bed. What?
Sam...isn't a monster. Unless he forced shame on Stiles' province, he wasn't...but to die for him? What the hell had Stiles ever done for that kind of loyalty? ]
Look, just, [Stiles swallows, threading his fingers together nervously.] Just do it, okay?
You - you're not thinking straight...just take me.
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[But he can't wait any longer. He simply can't. Slowly the wolf uncoils, crawling up the teen's body, covering it with his as he went until he was pressing him into the bed. His chest heaving, Sam noses at his jaw again, hands pushing at his shirt.
[He'll be gentle. He can give him that much.]
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He bites his lip and unzips his pants as Sam crawls on top of him, pinning him to the bed. Sam's claws are extended, which makes Stiles a little nervous, but at least he doesn't see any sharp, skin-ripping teeth...yet.
And if Stiles weren't so terrified and fairly unwilling, he'd have a chance to stop and enjoy the view. Sam was beautiful. Really, truly beautiful. He's got drool-worthy abs and warm, sun-kissed skin - well fuck, he must have been disappointed in the runt he was stuck with as a mate, hm?]
H-how- what, um, [Stiles asks quietly, deciding to ignore all of the problems he's starting to notice and just give Sam what he needs, like he's supposed to, as a Chosen one.] ...What do you want me to do, Sam?
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[At least for a year.
[Sam twists, kicking his pants off, leaving him in his shorts as he presses every line of his body against his mate. His fragile, human mate. Every scent mark is chased with a kiss pressed into his body.] Don't be afraid.
[He's so hard it hurts, sure he's going to wind up mating all night just to work off the pent up frustration of the evening.]
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[He will try. He's Chosen - and he'd rather not shame his entire province, thankyouverymuch.
All night? Stiles might pass out. He certainly doesn't have that kind of stamina, though he doubts he's going to find any pleasure in it; but his ass will need a reprieve at some point. Unless Sam was lying about not hurting him, which, Stiles didn't know the guy so he wouldn't put it past him.
Still, he's seen his pack go through heat, seen the intensity - although with how hard Sam is, Stiles wonders if it's even worse for Alphas.]
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[He nuzzles along his jaw, fingers in his hair. His scent was addictive, the warm lay of his skin beneath his fingers. So he continues on, scenting and marking his bare chest, neck, even his arms. Everywhere. Touching Stiles helps calm the heat, helps give him some clarity.
[There are no more words; he's not sure he can manage them at the moment anyway. Sam strokes down his sides, fingers hooking his jeans, tugging them down.]
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He swallows hard, but lifts his hips obediently when Sam tugs at his jeans, letting him slip the fabric down over Stiles' comparatively narrow hips. God he hopes Sam knows what he's doing and doesn't just plow into his body. Blood isn't exactly the most fun or effective lubricant out there.]
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[The exploration, the scent marking complete, Sam braces himself on his arms. His skin is bright with sweat, eyes blown wide and dark with lust.} Need.. I need.. [His arms start to shake and he very nearly goes over reaching for the bedside table and the drawer.
[Lube. Oh thank god.]
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Stiles let his grip loosen, but didn't remove it completely, awkwardly leaving his arm draped around Sam's chest from where he'd latched on to haul him up.] Y-you okay?
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