Teen Wolf: If I'm Being Honest I Ain't Over You Yet (Derek/Peter inc teen!Derek), NC-17, 1/?
Title: If I'm Being Honest I Ain't Over You Yet
Pairing: Derek Hale/Peter Hale (inc. teen!Derek)
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: The only thing I own is my filthy thoughts
Warnings/kinks: UNDERAGE (Derek's age varies from 14 to present day in this fic), age difference, uncle/nephew incest, dub-con if you squint!
Summary: The image of teenaged Derek in that vault, not even a couple of years older than when they’d become close in a way family shouldn’t, is unsettling. He’d been so young, desperate, innocent and eager to please, bringing back memories Peter’s been trying to push from his mind but they keep coming back and driving him crazy.
A/N: This takes place during the events of S4 eps 2 to 4, referencing Derek and Peter's sexual relationship from before to fire to now.
Barely contained anger runs through Peter as he slams the loft door after the arrogant, money grabbing, mercenary bitch who’s just gone away with a spring in her step at the promise of being paid an extortionate amount of money thanks to his fool of a nephew. He manages one quick breath before he inevitably gave in, “Are you insane?”
The pounding in his head’s drowning out his own voice as he rants at Derek, vocalising his concerns about how Kate found out about the vault, the stolen bonds and the ludicrous thought of him getting a job, all the while looking at the back of the younger man’s head. He’s irritated with himself that even in his perfectly justified anger he’s having to make a conscious effort to look there and not allow his gaze to roam over Derek’s ever more tense, broad shoulders and strong back. He’s making sure not to look down to slim hips and strong legs, not to mention that perfect ass. Before he knows it Peter is directly behind his nephew and grabbing his shoulder since the man continues to be stubborn, brooding and trying to ignore him as usual.
“We got robbed, Derek, robbed!”
As the younger Hale rounds on him, firmly grabbing his uncle’s wrist, Peter’s taken aback by the colour of his eyes. The growling roar aimed at Peter is nothing new, nor is Derek pulling away from physical contact. The roar’s no longer remotely intimidating, not since he had the red eyes of an Alpha, but this is strange, they’re almost the golden yellow of his youth, “Oh that’s a new look for you, what happened to your eyes?”
The ashamed, even slightly scared look on his nephew’s face and the refusal to meet Peter’s eyes, however, is all too familiar. He’s seen the same look on Derek for years, ever since he was a teenager...the first time he was a teenager, that is. A blink and you’ll miss it image flickers into Peter’s mind of that time, before he turns his attention back to the fully grown adult in front of him.
“I don’t know, but I’m willing to pay to find out.”
Curious doesn’t even cover it but Peter doesn’t get a chance to ask anything further because Derek’s once again walking away from him. It’s not worth pursuing the man at this point, experience has taught him that much so he just watches his nephew leave. Sighing, he leans on the table in the same spot Derek was just moments ago, the oh so familiar scent of him hanging in the air. Peter breathes it in then shakes his head, trying to clear the thoughts from the past few days but it’s futile, he’s not been able to get the image of the teenaged version of Derek out of his mind.
The top priority has of course been looking for Kate and getting their money back, but the image of Derek down in that vault, not even a couple of years older than when they’d become close in a way family shouldn’t, is unsettling. He’d been so young, desperate, innocent and eager to please, bringing back memories Peter’s been trying to push from his mind but they keep coming back and driving him crazy. He’s itchy under his skin from being in a near constant state of low level arousal for a week, now.
Derek’s grown into a stunning man, only improving as the years go by - he’s a Hale after all - and honestly Peter is still adjusting to that fact. He hunches further over the table as his mind is running a mile a minute, time a mere theoretical concept to him at this point. He lost six years of his life which makes the fact that he still wants Derek, but his nephew hasn’t shown any indication the feeling is mutual, all the more infuriating. He had no closure on the end of their relationship, such as it was. Even in his vegetative state he tried to warn Derek, to stop the pup getting hurt as Laura’s Alpha powers were healing Peter’s injuries from the fire and making him lose his mind at the same time. Part of him kept thinking it was only weeks earlier he’d held his beautiful nephew naked and sated in his arms, when in reality Derek had long ago moved on from their love affair, in fact he’s moved on so much that he had no qualms killing Peter.
He shakes his head again, best not to think too hard. It was in the past and ‘forgotten’ yet here he is, still partly stuck there whether he likes it or not, and he swings between the former and the latter on a frequent basis. He sighs, trying to let out some of his frustration but it has little effect. He’s had so many memories and feelings swimming around it’s become suffocating. They come randomly, in no real particular order, sometimes chronological and sometimes not. The one constant is the familiar crushing feeling of jealousy of seeing a teenaged Derek next to Kate in the vault, which leads him to thinking about Paige, too. Before either of them, Derek was his and his alone. His to comfort, his to guide, his to fuck and so much more.
The dysfunctional relationship he and Derek share is just something that’s always been there, not just recently with forgiving the worst deeds simply because they were family as well as pack. As a child Derek’s hero worship of his uncle was a standing joke within the pack, the way he always wanted to tag along with whatever Peter was doing. He’d beg Talia to go running in the forest trying to keep up with Peter on full moons, which was always impossible since Derek had yet to go through his first change, snuggling up on his his uncle’s lap and being held against his firm chest by strong but gentle arms any chance he got, and later when Peter started to date, waiting for him to come home and hear all about it. It wasn’t until puberty hit Derek like a sledgehammer that they both became aware of the changes in his body and their mutual desires, that things began to head in a very non familial direction.
Peter’s heartbeat picks up as he thinks back to some of the times he tried to do the right thing - yes, he used to do that frequently, thank you very much! - all the times he fought against his arousal and the pull he felt towards Derek that ran deeper than family or pack bond. The thinks about many failed attempts his nephew had at controlling the change with the triskelion and mantra, and how because of it, one of his most vivid memories is of the first of many, many times he caused Derek to become a panting, trembling mess and come all over himself.
Derek was fourteen, soaking wet from the shower in the boy’s locker room before that stupid basketball final the pup was so desperate to play in. Derek was practically sobbing in frustration and pain, on his knees looking up at his uncle with such desperate eyes that Peter couldn’t help the flare of lust he felt alongside distress. He remembers pulling the teen up off the floor and slamming him against the wall, bodies pressed in close and Derek fucking whimpering and begging for Peter to stop the pain and help him gain some control, ”Please, Peter, help me,” the teen’s eyes were wild, not just from his true nature coming out but with lust, the older man could smell it on him, “do...something,” and really, who could say no to that? Something in him had snapped and he kissed Derek, hot and messy. Peter had - partially - intended to step back and they’d try the triskelion again, but instead his nephew moaned at the loss and pulled him closer, initiating a second kiss filled with want. Encouraged by the pup’s desperate sounds he’d slipped his hand into Derek’s shorts and distracted him from the imminent change.
In the here and now Peter grips the edge of the table, still surrounded by Derek’s scent and that of his own arousal as his pulse thumps in his chest and fills his cock. His claws scrape the underside of the table as he tries to stop himself shaking. He’s always prided himself on his level self control under just about any circumstance, other people’s opinions and the events leading to his death and resurrection, notwithstanding, but Derek pushes him to his limits time and time again. Right now those limits were being tested in spades, sexual frustration added into an already volatile situation. He can’t take much more of this.
§
As much as Derek’s trying not to think about Kate de-aging him, he can’t help his mind taking him back in time to when he was actually a teenager. He can’t remember much of the second time but he certainly remembers the first, the good, the not so good… and everything that happened between him and Peter. He’s trying to relax and change this train of thought but his brain evidently hates him because as the fog of his brief stint of being younger again is very slowly lifting, he recalls with more clarity the words Peter had used as he came down the stairs, “Derek returned to a teenager, one that trusted you…loved you.”
Derek knows it’s a ridiculous thing to get hung up on, he’s an adult who’s moved on to adult problems, yet he still desperately hopes that while Peter was saying those things to Kate that the man was too caught up in his own monologue to see the truth in the words. Back then, despite being in love with Paige, then with Kate, Derek had been stupidly in love with with uncle as well. They were always close, for a long time Peter was his best friend and his closest confidante, even before they became more, and he can’t get his mind off the more.
Coming home to find Peter on the floor with an axe in his chest had terrified him. For a torturous few seconds he thought the man was dead until he reached where his uncle lay and saw he was breathing, “Thank fuck,” he hissed through a lump in his throat, before he turned the man’s head towards him, “Peter! Peter, wake up!”
Getting Peter conscious, upright, shirtless and ready to burn out the poison is kind of a blur, but as Derek lights the blowtorch, he comes back to himself. He can’t help but take a little sadistic pleasure in watching Peter’s face contort in shock and pain, but it’s fleeting.
“I need you to keep still,” he grits as Peter’s screams move his body.
“Fuck you!” Peter spits.
The younger Hale can’t help but snort, he’s not an idiot, he’s smelled Peter’s arousal around him the past few days and has a good idea what it’s all about, “You wish!”, as soon as the words leave his mouth, Peter freezes. Panic sweeps through Derek, his heart thundering in his chest and his hand starts to shake a little. He lowers the torch, not trusting himself not to burn into healthy flesh instead of just the wolfsbane covered parts.
“Can we get this over with?,” Peter’s voice is like gravel and Derek isn’t sure it’s just the pain that caused it, “There are far more productive things we could be doing, Derek.”
He starts up the blowtorch again, not missing the tiny flinch from Peter, “Just keep still, I’m nearly done,” he swallows deeply as he puts his hand back on the man’s firm, sweaty chest. He can’t help it when his eyes drift over the bare torso in front of him, he always did love Peter’s body. Tight abs and stomach, well defined pecs and nipples that he knows from experience are incredibly sensitive. He watches, mesmerised as a trail of sweat runs from the hollow of his uncle’s throat down the centre of his chest, hissing and spitting as it hits the flame. It brings Derek back to his senses and he moves away from Peter, “done,” he croaks.
As soon as the flame leaves his flesh, Peter collapses on the floor. Against his will Derek’s body turns to look, his heart beating hard in his chest at the sight and sound of his uncle breathless, grunting and writhing makes his cock twitch in his tight jeans. He takes a few sharp breaths in through his nose to calm himself before leaning over Peter and holding out a hand to help him up. He’s a little surprised when the man actually takes it and Derek finds he needs to put a little extra effort in to taking some of Peter’s weight, using the table for a extra leverage while he stands the man up. After a couple of seconds of essentially holding each other’s hands, Derek pulls away, quickly. He feels like he should say something but his uncle speaks, instead.
“He said was after you,” his voice is still raspy and breathless and Derek’s cock gives another twitch.
Not wanting his body to betray him any further, he makes sure his trademark ‘Sourwolf’ face is in place before replying, “How does a guy with no mouth say anything?”
Peter picks up the contraption the Tomahawk wielding maniac appears to have left behind and hands it to him, “With this.”
Derek takes it from Peter’s hand, briefly investigating it before he registers the sound of Peter sniffing the air and letting out an amused, “Huh!” He looks up to find the man with that smug, arrogant smile plastered all over his chiselled face.
“What?” he says, playing dumb. He can tell immediately that he’s not fooling anyone, especially not Peter who’s watching him with a mixture of arrogance and curiosity that he does so well, the fucker, taking a couple of steps closer towards him. Derek takes a step back of his own, then two, before his hip bangs into the table behind him. “So,” he says, “we should get this to the Sheriff.” Peter makes an affirmative noise in his throat but says nothing, he’s still coming closer and Derek tries not to feel anything as his uncle’s scent catches his nose, “Peter,” shit, he’s breathless all of a sudden, “let’s go.”
“I don’t think we’re done here, yet,” Peter replies, making a show of running appreciative eyes over Derek’s body before plucking the communication device from his nephew. His voice drops in volume but the younger man hears it, anyway, “I think we have some unfinished business, don’t you?”
Derek’s breath hitches as his uncle crowds him up against the table, his arms like brackets either side of his hips, close but not touching. He can smell the burned hairs Peter’s chest, the fresh sweat on his body from the combination of the pain of the wolfsbane and the blowtorch, and there, catching the back of his throat as well as filling his nostrils, the unmistakable woody and heavy scent of Peter’s arousal. Shit!
“We’re done,” he rasps before swallowing around the lump in his throat as the older man drags a sharp claw from Derek’s temple down to his collar bone, “we were done a long time ago, Peter.”
Peter’s eyes glow blue, the claw now drawing a lazy pattern across his chest, “I disagree,” he rumbles into Derek’s ear, causing the beta to shiver, “I can feel it.”
“Feel what?” he replies before setting his jaw in defiance, meeting Peter’s eyes, not backing down.
“Contempt, anger … I can hear your heartbeat thudding in your chest, pup. I can smell your guilt and regret … and your arousal, just like back then. You still want me, admit it.”
Derek shakes his head, “Shut up, Peter,” is all he manages before a hand is over his denim clad cock, cupping and applying gentle pressure, but it’s enough to have his hips jerk forward. He gasps and grabs his uncle’s wrist, pushing him enough that he takes a couple of steps back, but still with that smug smile on his face.
“Oh come now, Derek, we both know you never could resist my touch for long.”
“Get out,” he says with as much conviction as he can muster when he feels like his knees are about to give way. His heart is pounding with both anger and lust, he can feel his wolf growling in his chest.
Peter lets out a small ‘tsk’ sound, moving his body back towards his nephew, “Is that what you really want me to do, Derek?”
.
Pairing: Derek Hale/Peter Hale (inc. teen!Derek)
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: The only thing I own is my filthy thoughts
Warnings/kinks: UNDERAGE (Derek's age varies from 14 to present day in this fic), age difference, uncle/nephew incest, dub-con if you squint!
Summary: The image of teenaged Derek in that vault, not even a couple of years older than when they’d become close in a way family shouldn’t, is unsettling. He’d been so young, desperate, innocent and eager to please, bringing back memories Peter’s been trying to push from his mind but they keep coming back and driving him crazy.
A/N: This takes place during the events of S4 eps 2 to 4, referencing Derek and Peter's sexual relationship from before to fire to now.
Barely contained anger runs through Peter as he slams the loft door after the arrogant, money grabbing, mercenary bitch who’s just gone away with a spring in her step at the promise of being paid an extortionate amount of money thanks to his fool of a nephew. He manages one quick breath before he inevitably gave in, “Are you insane?”
The pounding in his head’s drowning out his own voice as he rants at Derek, vocalising his concerns about how Kate found out about the vault, the stolen bonds and the ludicrous thought of him getting a job, all the while looking at the back of the younger man’s head. He’s irritated with himself that even in his perfectly justified anger he’s having to make a conscious effort to look there and not allow his gaze to roam over Derek’s ever more tense, broad shoulders and strong back. He’s making sure not to look down to slim hips and strong legs, not to mention that perfect ass. Before he knows it Peter is directly behind his nephew and grabbing his shoulder since the man continues to be stubborn, brooding and trying to ignore him as usual.
“We got robbed, Derek, robbed!”
As the younger Hale rounds on him, firmly grabbing his uncle’s wrist, Peter’s taken aback by the colour of his eyes. The growling roar aimed at Peter is nothing new, nor is Derek pulling away from physical contact. The roar’s no longer remotely intimidating, not since he had the red eyes of an Alpha, but this is strange, they’re almost the golden yellow of his youth, “Oh that’s a new look for you, what happened to your eyes?”
The ashamed, even slightly scared look on his nephew’s face and the refusal to meet Peter’s eyes, however, is all too familiar. He’s seen the same look on Derek for years, ever since he was a teenager...the first time he was a teenager, that is. A blink and you’ll miss it image flickers into Peter’s mind of that time, before he turns his attention back to the fully grown adult in front of him.
“I don’t know, but I’m willing to pay to find out.”
Curious doesn’t even cover it but Peter doesn’t get a chance to ask anything further because Derek’s once again walking away from him. It’s not worth pursuing the man at this point, experience has taught him that much so he just watches his nephew leave. Sighing, he leans on the table in the same spot Derek was just moments ago, the oh so familiar scent of him hanging in the air. Peter breathes it in then shakes his head, trying to clear the thoughts from the past few days but it’s futile, he’s not been able to get the image of the teenaged version of Derek out of his mind.
The top priority has of course been looking for Kate and getting their money back, but the image of Derek down in that vault, not even a couple of years older than when they’d become close in a way family shouldn’t, is unsettling. He’d been so young, desperate, innocent and eager to please, bringing back memories Peter’s been trying to push from his mind but they keep coming back and driving him crazy. He’s itchy under his skin from being in a near constant state of low level arousal for a week, now.
Derek’s grown into a stunning man, only improving as the years go by - he’s a Hale after all - and honestly Peter is still adjusting to that fact. He hunches further over the table as his mind is running a mile a minute, time a mere theoretical concept to him at this point. He lost six years of his life which makes the fact that he still wants Derek, but his nephew hasn’t shown any indication the feeling is mutual, all the more infuriating. He had no closure on the end of their relationship, such as it was. Even in his vegetative state he tried to warn Derek, to stop the pup getting hurt as Laura’s Alpha powers were healing Peter’s injuries from the fire and making him lose his mind at the same time. Part of him kept thinking it was only weeks earlier he’d held his beautiful nephew naked and sated in his arms, when in reality Derek had long ago moved on from their love affair, in fact he’s moved on so much that he had no qualms killing Peter.
He shakes his head again, best not to think too hard. It was in the past and ‘forgotten’ yet here he is, still partly stuck there whether he likes it or not, and he swings between the former and the latter on a frequent basis. He sighs, trying to let out some of his frustration but it has little effect. He’s had so many memories and feelings swimming around it’s become suffocating. They come randomly, in no real particular order, sometimes chronological and sometimes not. The one constant is the familiar crushing feeling of jealousy of seeing a teenaged Derek next to Kate in the vault, which leads him to thinking about Paige, too. Before either of them, Derek was his and his alone. His to comfort, his to guide, his to fuck and so much more.
The dysfunctional relationship he and Derek share is just something that’s always been there, not just recently with forgiving the worst deeds simply because they were family as well as pack. As a child Derek’s hero worship of his uncle was a standing joke within the pack, the way he always wanted to tag along with whatever Peter was doing. He’d beg Talia to go running in the forest trying to keep up with Peter on full moons, which was always impossible since Derek had yet to go through his first change, snuggling up on his his uncle’s lap and being held against his firm chest by strong but gentle arms any chance he got, and later when Peter started to date, waiting for him to come home and hear all about it. It wasn’t until puberty hit Derek like a sledgehammer that they both became aware of the changes in his body and their mutual desires, that things began to head in a very non familial direction.
Peter’s heartbeat picks up as he thinks back to some of the times he tried to do the right thing - yes, he used to do that frequently, thank you very much! - all the times he fought against his arousal and the pull he felt towards Derek that ran deeper than family or pack bond. The thinks about many failed attempts his nephew had at controlling the change with the triskelion and mantra, and how because of it, one of his most vivid memories is of the first of many, many times he caused Derek to become a panting, trembling mess and come all over himself.
Derek was fourteen, soaking wet from the shower in the boy’s locker room before that stupid basketball final the pup was so desperate to play in. Derek was practically sobbing in frustration and pain, on his knees looking up at his uncle with such desperate eyes that Peter couldn’t help the flare of lust he felt alongside distress. He remembers pulling the teen up off the floor and slamming him against the wall, bodies pressed in close and Derek fucking whimpering and begging for Peter to stop the pain and help him gain some control, ”Please, Peter, help me,” the teen’s eyes were wild, not just from his true nature coming out but with lust, the older man could smell it on him, “do...something,” and really, who could say no to that? Something in him had snapped and he kissed Derek, hot and messy. Peter had - partially - intended to step back and they’d try the triskelion again, but instead his nephew moaned at the loss and pulled him closer, initiating a second kiss filled with want. Encouraged by the pup’s desperate sounds he’d slipped his hand into Derek’s shorts and distracted him from the imminent change.
In the here and now Peter grips the edge of the table, still surrounded by Derek’s scent and that of his own arousal as his pulse thumps in his chest and fills his cock. His claws scrape the underside of the table as he tries to stop himself shaking. He’s always prided himself on his level self control under just about any circumstance, other people’s opinions and the events leading to his death and resurrection, notwithstanding, but Derek pushes him to his limits time and time again. Right now those limits were being tested in spades, sexual frustration added into an already volatile situation. He can’t take much more of this.
§
As much as Derek’s trying not to think about Kate de-aging him, he can’t help his mind taking him back in time to when he was actually a teenager. He can’t remember much of the second time but he certainly remembers the first, the good, the not so good… and everything that happened between him and Peter. He’s trying to relax and change this train of thought but his brain evidently hates him because as the fog of his brief stint of being younger again is very slowly lifting, he recalls with more clarity the words Peter had used as he came down the stairs, “Derek returned to a teenager, one that trusted you…loved you.”
Derek knows it’s a ridiculous thing to get hung up on, he’s an adult who’s moved on to adult problems, yet he still desperately hopes that while Peter was saying those things to Kate that the man was too caught up in his own monologue to see the truth in the words. Back then, despite being in love with Paige, then with Kate, Derek had been stupidly in love with with uncle as well. They were always close, for a long time Peter was his best friend and his closest confidante, even before they became more, and he can’t get his mind off the more.
Coming home to find Peter on the floor with an axe in his chest had terrified him. For a torturous few seconds he thought the man was dead until he reached where his uncle lay and saw he was breathing, “Thank fuck,” he hissed through a lump in his throat, before he turned the man’s head towards him, “Peter! Peter, wake up!”
Getting Peter conscious, upright, shirtless and ready to burn out the poison is kind of a blur, but as Derek lights the blowtorch, he comes back to himself. He can’t help but take a little sadistic pleasure in watching Peter’s face contort in shock and pain, but it’s fleeting.
“I need you to keep still,” he grits as Peter’s screams move his body.
“Fuck you!” Peter spits.
The younger Hale can’t help but snort, he’s not an idiot, he’s smelled Peter’s arousal around him the past few days and has a good idea what it’s all about, “You wish!”, as soon as the words leave his mouth, Peter freezes. Panic sweeps through Derek, his heart thundering in his chest and his hand starts to shake a little. He lowers the torch, not trusting himself not to burn into healthy flesh instead of just the wolfsbane covered parts.
“Can we get this over with?,” Peter’s voice is like gravel and Derek isn’t sure it’s just the pain that caused it, “There are far more productive things we could be doing, Derek.”
He starts up the blowtorch again, not missing the tiny flinch from Peter, “Just keep still, I’m nearly done,” he swallows deeply as he puts his hand back on the man’s firm, sweaty chest. He can’t help it when his eyes drift over the bare torso in front of him, he always did love Peter’s body. Tight abs and stomach, well defined pecs and nipples that he knows from experience are incredibly sensitive. He watches, mesmerised as a trail of sweat runs from the hollow of his uncle’s throat down the centre of his chest, hissing and spitting as it hits the flame. It brings Derek back to his senses and he moves away from Peter, “done,” he croaks.
As soon as the flame leaves his flesh, Peter collapses on the floor. Against his will Derek’s body turns to look, his heart beating hard in his chest at the sight and sound of his uncle breathless, grunting and writhing makes his cock twitch in his tight jeans. He takes a few sharp breaths in through his nose to calm himself before leaning over Peter and holding out a hand to help him up. He’s a little surprised when the man actually takes it and Derek finds he needs to put a little extra effort in to taking some of Peter’s weight, using the table for a extra leverage while he stands the man up. After a couple of seconds of essentially holding each other’s hands, Derek pulls away, quickly. He feels like he should say something but his uncle speaks, instead.
“He said was after you,” his voice is still raspy and breathless and Derek’s cock gives another twitch.
Not wanting his body to betray him any further, he makes sure his trademark ‘Sourwolf’ face is in place before replying, “How does a guy with no mouth say anything?”
Peter picks up the contraption the Tomahawk wielding maniac appears to have left behind and hands it to him, “With this.”
Derek takes it from Peter’s hand, briefly investigating it before he registers the sound of Peter sniffing the air and letting out an amused, “Huh!” He looks up to find the man with that smug, arrogant smile plastered all over his chiselled face.
“What?” he says, playing dumb. He can tell immediately that he’s not fooling anyone, especially not Peter who’s watching him with a mixture of arrogance and curiosity that he does so well, the fucker, taking a couple of steps closer towards him. Derek takes a step back of his own, then two, before his hip bangs into the table behind him. “So,” he says, “we should get this to the Sheriff.” Peter makes an affirmative noise in his throat but says nothing, he’s still coming closer and Derek tries not to feel anything as his uncle’s scent catches his nose, “Peter,” shit, he’s breathless all of a sudden, “let’s go.”
“I don’t think we’re done here, yet,” Peter replies, making a show of running appreciative eyes over Derek’s body before plucking the communication device from his nephew. His voice drops in volume but the younger man hears it, anyway, “I think we have some unfinished business, don’t you?”
Derek’s breath hitches as his uncle crowds him up against the table, his arms like brackets either side of his hips, close but not touching. He can smell the burned hairs Peter’s chest, the fresh sweat on his body from the combination of the pain of the wolfsbane and the blowtorch, and there, catching the back of his throat as well as filling his nostrils, the unmistakable woody and heavy scent of Peter’s arousal. Shit!
“We’re done,” he rasps before swallowing around the lump in his throat as the older man drags a sharp claw from Derek’s temple down to his collar bone, “we were done a long time ago, Peter.”
Peter’s eyes glow blue, the claw now drawing a lazy pattern across his chest, “I disagree,” he rumbles into Derek’s ear, causing the beta to shiver, “I can feel it.”
“Feel what?” he replies before setting his jaw in defiance, meeting Peter’s eyes, not backing down.
“Contempt, anger … I can hear your heartbeat thudding in your chest, pup. I can smell your guilt and regret … and your arousal, just like back then. You still want me, admit it.”
Derek shakes his head, “Shut up, Peter,” is all he manages before a hand is over his denim clad cock, cupping and applying gentle pressure, but it’s enough to have his hips jerk forward. He gasps and grabs his uncle’s wrist, pushing him enough that he takes a couple of steps back, but still with that smug smile on his face.
“Oh come now, Derek, we both know you never could resist my touch for long.”
“Get out,” he says with as much conviction as he can muster when he feels like his knees are about to give way. His heart is pounding with both anger and lust, he can feel his wolf growling in his chest.
Peter lets out a small ‘tsk’ sound, moving his body back towards his nephew, “Is that what you really want me to do, Derek?”
.