Stiles looked up from his laptop as he heard his window open. Derek was climbing through the window like the Edward Cullen wannable he was.

"You know my Dad isn't in, you could have used the door," Stiles sighed, spinning round in his chair to face the Alpha.

"It's more fun this way," Derek grinned and Stiles smiled because he knew he had been the one to cause that amusement on Derek's face. Not many people could cause that face.

Derek came over to Stiles and leant down, placing both his hands on the chair to trap him there. A couple of months ago Stiles could have been terrified. Now his smile just grew wider. Derek leant down further and kissed him, soft at first but it soon grew deeper until Stiles was panting and flushed.

"You know," Stiles said once Derek had broken off, "You're going to have to start taking me on dates soon or these are going to start feeling like booty calls."

"Booty calls without the sex?" Derek asked, one of his eyebrows perfectly raised. Stiles blushed and coughed, looking away.

"This...this could involve...sex," Stiles winced, still looking away. His cheeks were burning and he was really nervous. He had been trying to build up to this for weeks but he had wussed out every time, "I mean, if you want to," he continued, rushing his words, "You probably don't want to though because you're all hard muscles and sexy stubble and I'm quite inexperienced, actually completely no experience at all so I'll be really rubbish and-"

"Stiles," Derek interrupted and Stiles did stop talking. He could feel that his cheeks were red raw.

"I wasn't proposing that we should have sex, I was just...making a joke," Derek said, and coughed as if he was embarrassed. Stiles looked at him and nearly laughed.

"You're not very funny," he told the werewolf and then bit the inside of his cheek, "I was being serious though."

Derek looked shocked as he leant backwards slightly. Stiles felt his heart drop as he realised that Derek probably didn't want to have sex with him. He was only 17 and Derek was 23. Why would Derek Hale have sex with a teenager?

"Really?" Derek asked and he looked nervous.

"We don't have to," Stiles said quietly, "If you don't want to." Derek caught him off guard by kissing him. It was soft and sweet and Derek's eyes were slightly amused when they broke apart.

"Of course I do" Derek told him, "I just wanted to wait until you were ready."

Stiles laughed again, shaking his head. He stood up, wrapping his arms around Derek's neck. Derek's hands found his hip and he rubbed the skin there with his thumb.

"Does anyone else know how sweet you can be?" Stiles asked as Derek pushed their foreheads together. Derek kissed the side of his mouth, a grin on his own.

"No, just you and don't tell anyone, otherwise I'll-"

"Yes, I know, you'll rip my throat out with you'll teeth," Stiles laughed before leaning forward to kiss Derek more forcefully. Derek growled, pulling him close and turning him around as they kissed. He walked them backwards until Stiles' knees hit the bed and they fell backwards. Stiles hit the bed with a soft 'ompf' but it was swallowed up by Derek's lips.

"Are you sure about this?" Derek asked as he moved from Stiles' lips to his neck. Stiles moaned, bucking his hips up to show his wiliness.

"Yes, yes!" He nearly begged. He had been waiting too long for this. He felt Derek grin against his throat and a low growl escaped the Alpha's lips as another moan sounded from Stiles'. Derek felt hard against him and unbelievable hot. Not uncomfortable hot though; instead it sent heat straight to his groin. Derek nosed his shirt aside as he continued to kiss Stiles' skin.

"You wear too many layers," Derek grumbled as he tried to kiss along Stiles' collarbone.

"Take them off then," Stiles told him. Derek looked up, a gleam in his eye. It made Stiles so happy to know that he could cause that gleam and the smile on the wolf's face. A smile Stiles knew was only for him.

Nervously, Stiles ran his hands under Derek's shirt, feeling hard muscle and smooth skin, and pulled the grey shirt off him.

"Relax," Derek mumbled quietly, kissing the corner of Stiles' mouth, kissing a trail slowly across his cheek and to the side of his neck and under his ear. Stiles let out a soft sigh. He knew Derek could smell how nervous he felt and was trying to calm him down. It was working. The slow movements and the feeling of Derek's breath against his skin made his muscle relax and he closed his eyes as Derek slowly peeled his two shirts off. However, Stiles felt nervous again and self-conscious. Derek was above him looking like a God and Stiles was laying there, all soft skin and no abs.

"Stop it," Derek told him, looking up again.

"What?" Stiles said innocently.

"You look so sexy like this," Derek mumbled against Stiles' lips, "Just laid out like this."

Stiles felt himself blush and he pulled Derek down on him to hide it. The kiss deepened and Stiles very soon forgot about how self-conscious he felt because Derek must have a magic tongue or something. No one was that good at kissing. Stiles moaned as he felt Derek's hard length against his own. He bucked his hips again and Derek groaned, his hands tighten on Stiles' hips. Stiles ran his hands down Derek's back, needing more skin, more heat, needing more.

So he ran his fingers through Derek's waistband until he got to the button and he undid it and the zip slowly. Derek let out a small grasp as Stiles' fingers brushed his arousal. Derek leant up to looked down at Stiles, who bit his lip as he stared back into the hazel eyes.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Derek asked, sounding nervous himself. Stiles huffed out a laugh and nodded and leant up to kiss him.

"Yes," he said, "Just...just be..." he blushed again, feeling like a girl. He wanted to feel Derek inside him but he knew that it was going to hurt.

"Don't worry," Derek smiled, running his hand down Stiles' stomach and to his jeans. Stiles smiled and he wasn't worried.

Their trousers were soon on the floor and they were rocking up against each other, breathing heavily, gasping and moaning.

"Derek," Stiles whimpered and Derek growled again, kissing down his neck and along his chest. He ran his hand over Stiles' body until he got to his penis, where he agonisingly slowly ran his hand over the swollen length and down over his balls. Stiles nearly yelled out when he felt a fingers run over his entrance. His hips bucked and his back arched over the bed.

"Wait," he panted and then sprawled his hand over to reach his bedside table. He knocked the lamp over as he struggled to open his drawer. He managed to get it open though and pulled out a condom and a tube of lube. He gave them to Derek, who smiled and opened the lube. He poured a healthy amount onto his fingers and Stiles watched as he lowered them to between their legs. He licked his lips as Derek rubbed his entrance.

"Just tell me when to stop," Derek told him. Stiles nodded and then raised his hips so Derek's finger was pushed in slightly. He moaned and Derek took the hint and pushed his finger all the way in. it felt weird but oh-so-good weird. Stiles moaned, pushing his hips up to get more of this feeling. It was too good.

"Derek," he breathed, not realising he was saying the man's name again and again. He clawed his nails up the firm back as he kissed Derek's collarbone, biting down slightly. He felt Derek moan as he added another finger. Stiles responded by wrapping his legs around Derek's waist and leant himself up to get as close to Derek as possible. He just wanted to be closer; for all their skin to be touching.

"Derek," Stiles moaned because he knew he was close but he didn't want it to end yet, "Derek," he nearly begged.

The wolf understood and he withdrew his fingers. Stiles whimpered until he saw Derek pouring more lube onto himself. The teenager watched as Derek stroked his penis in long lengths to cover it. They locked eyes briefly before Stiles pulled him down to him and they kissed fast and heavy.

"Come on," Stiles urged, needing to feel Derek inside of him.

Derek lined himself up before pushing in slowly. Stiles hissed in pain and Derek stopped, looking down at him with eyes full of concern.

"Its ok," Stiles reassured him, already getting use to the pain, "Keep going."

Derek hesitated though, instead leaning down to kiss Stiles gently. It was a slow kiss and Stiles relaxed into it. Very, very slowly Derek pushed the rest of the way inside. The kiss got heavier as need and desire filled both of them and they were gasping for air, both of them clutching the other.

"Derek, move!" Stiles begged and Derek did; slow at first but soon picking up the pace. He moved his lips to Stiles' neck again and started to kiss it, sucking the skin. He growled as Stiles practically shouted when Derek hit the wall of muscles. Electricity flew through him and he arched his body high off the bed, his neck fully exposed. Derek felt like he was shaking as he growled and his pace picked up.

Stiles winced slightly as the pace quickened but Derek didn't seem to realise.

"Derek," Stiles panted, wincing again as the pace got too fast, "Slow down."

But Derek didn't seem to hear him and he growled again, sounding more animal than human as he scrapped his teeth over Stiles' skin. Intense pain then filled Stiles as he felt sharp teeth dig into his neck.

"Derek!" Stiles yelled, gasping from the pain. Derek growled again as Stiles tried to push him away. He glared at Stiles, his eyes red and with blood around his mouth, before latching back onto Stiles' neck.

Fear escaped Stiles, instead replaced by anger and realisation.

"No!" He yelled, shoving Derek away, "Get off me!"

Derek growled again as he was shoved away but then his eyes grew wide as he looked at Stiles, who had crawled away from his as much as he could and was against the bed frame, one hand on his gashing neck. Derek's eyes faded back to hazel as he looked at Stiles.

"Shit," he said, backing off the bed and to the other side of the room.

"You bit me!" Stiles yelled, getting off the bed and picking up the first bit of clothing he could find, which happened to be Derek's t-shirt. He held it against the gash on the neck, his hands wet with the red blood.

"You bit me!" He yelled again, looking at Derek, who had gone ashen white and looked more shocked than anything else. He still had blood around his mouth.

"I didn't mean to!" He said, begging Stiles' to believe him.

"Shit, I'm going to become a werewolf now, aren't I?" Stiles asked, shaking. He looked at the t-shirt which was already soaked through, "or die!"

"No," Derek said, his voice almost quivering, "No, you're not going to die."

He came closer, reaching out.

"Get away from me!" Stiles screamed, backing up so his back hit the wall. Derek's eyes filled with grief and he withdrew his hand.

"I'm going to become a werewolf, aren't I?" Stiles demanded to know, even though he already knew the answer. Derek nodded and the anger Stiles felt doubled, tripled maybe.

"Get out!" He yelled. Derek shook his head, coming a step closer again.

"I've got to stay here with you," he told Stiles.

"No," Stiles glared, bending down to pick up Derek's trousers and jacket. He chucked them at the man.

"No, you've got to fuck off and leave me alone," Stiles spat.

Derek looked at him for a moment before his face went blank and he nodded. He quickly pulled on his clothes and climbed through the window. Stiles rushed over to the window once he had disappeared and then slammed it shit and locked it. He didn't even look to see if Derek had gone before he shut the curtains. He was shaking and he tried to process what had just happened. His neck was pulsing with pain and blood was dripping down his chest. There was blood on his hands and all over the bed.

"Oh my GOD!" Stiles said, caught between yelling and crying. He tried to take a deep breath but it didn't calm him. He pulled a pair on sweat pants and went to the bathroom. He felt sick as he looked in the mirror. He looked white as the bright red blood stained his skin. The bite mark on his neck looked quite deep and it was oozing blood quickly. He got a towel and pressed it against his skin, throwing the shirt away. He pressed the towel tightly against the wound and flinched. He took a shaky breath, his eyes going moist.

"Fuck," he mumbled, sitting down on the toilet lid and bowing his head. He was scared. He knew what was going to happen. He was going to become a werewolf. A glowy eyed, sharp teethed, time of the month werewolf. Or he was going to die.

Either way, he will know by the morning.

He tried not to panic and was surprised to find that he didn't. He felt too tired. The bleeding stopped after about ten minutes and he cleaned himself up. He bandaged up his neck to hide the bite. Sighing, Stiles moved back to the bed room and stripped his bed. He carried them downstairs and stuffed them into the washing machine. He needed to get rid of all the evidence so it didn't look like a murder had taken place in his bed.

By the time he had replaced his bedding, Stiles felt like he was going to collapse. His mind didn't give him time to think about what had happened as soon as he was in bed he was asleep.

The alarm clock woke Stiles up the next morning.

"What?! What!?" Stiles yelped, sitting up straight. It was ten times louder than usual and it sounded like it was inside his brain, making the most annoying sound ever. He grabbed his phone off the bedside table and switched it off. He moaned, slumping back down on the bed.

It was then he was hit by a wave of sounds and smells. Cars going past outside, the smell of bacon that someone in the neighbourhood was cooking, a baby crying, the smell of coffee from yesterday, the couple next door arguing. It was overwhelming. There was so much going on and the worst thing was that he could smell Derek and what they had done last night. It snuck of sex and blood and Derek.

Stiles clutched his jaw tightly and slammed the pillow over his head to try and blocked out the sounds, but it didn't work.

He heard his Dad return home from work a few minutes later and flinched as he slammed the front door shut. It was like someone had hit cymbals right next to his ear.

"Stiles!" His Dad yelled up the stairs. Stiles didn't reply as his Dad came up the stairs and banged on his door.

"What?" Stiles groaned, not moving. His head hurt too much. Too much was going on. He heard the door open and he could smell his Dad coming into the room. For a moment all the other sounds and smells went away. For a moment all he could smell was black coffee, and the metal of his Dad's gun and the burger he must have had last night. Stiles' heart missed a beat though as he smelt something else. Something he hadn't smelt in years. It was his Mum's perfume. The bottle Stiles knew his Dad kept on his bedside table. The smell lingered on his Dad's skin, only slightly but it was there. Stiles felt a lump in his throat as he rolled over to look at his Dad, who looked tired and slightly annoyed.

"Stiles, you're going to be late for school."

"I have a headache," Stiles mumbled, his eyes on his Dad's chest where he could hear his heartbeat. Stiles frowned. There was something wrong with it. It wasn't beating in a continuous rhythm but every now and again it would make a whooshing sound, too quick for a normal heart beat.

"You're not getting off school if you have a hangover," his Dad told him seriously. Stiles rolled his eyes and shook his head.

"I wasn't drinking last night," Stiles told him. His Dad frowned at his son's quiet and withdrawn tone. He sat on the bed and felt Stile's forehead. Stiles closed his eyes at the touch, trying to focus on the smell so he couldn't sense anything else.

"You are quite warm," his Dad told him, "I think you're telling the truth."

Stiles didn't say anything and he could smell the concern on his Dad.

"I'll call the school," his Dad said, standing back up, "And what did you do to your neck?"

Stiles felt the rough fabric of the bandage around his neck and sighed.

"I fell over in lacrosse practice and someone ran over my neck," he lied, too easily for his liking. His Dad nodded, seeming happy with the explanation.

"Do you want me to get you anything?"

Stiles shook his head and his Dad petted his leg.

"Get some rest then."

He then left the room, shutting the door quietly. Stiles sighed, feeling guilty for lying to his Dad again. He didn't want to go to school though. There were more sounds there and he didn't think he could cope with it. Stiles listened to his Dad call the school to explain his absence and then go to bed. Stiles could hear his breathes even from the next room. The heart thing worried him though. He would have to talk to his Dad about it somehow.

Once his Dad was asleep, Stiles rolled out of bed and grabbed the bottle of Adderall that was always on the bedside table. He dry swallowed two before getting up and going to the bathroom. He thought a shower would clear his head. He stripped off and froze as he caught his reflection in the mirror.

He had muscles! Like real life muscles and everything! Oh my God! It looked like he had done 100 sit ups every night for years and was actually on the front line for lacrosse. He smiled as he examined his abs and his now hard stomach. He was nowhere near as ripped as Derek, but he did exercise none stop like a crazy person. Stiles wasn't far off Scott though and it made him feel so good that his best friend did get muscles over night and was a result from his werewolf bite, and not because he had been working out. It made him feel less useless.

Stiles stood naked in front of his mirror and studied himself. He no longer had the bite and he still looked the same, part from the increased muscle. Just the same old Stiles.

He got up close to the mirror and looked at his eyes. They still looked their brown colour and that gave Stiles a sense of comfort. Maybe he wasn't a werewolf.

But then he thought of the muscles and a car door slammed somewhere where he shouldn't be able to hear it. An image of Derek's blood covered face came to his mind and a growl escaped his lips and his eyes changed colour. Stiles jumped at his reaction and looked at his glowing eyes. They weren't like any colour he had seen on a werewolf before. Derek's were red; Scott, Erica, Boyd and Isaacs' eyes were a yellowy gold colour and Jackson's were blue, but Stiles' were a bright orange. They were nearly red, but not quite.

Stiles frowned as they faded back to brown. He wondered if they meant anything. Something to research.

After his shower, Stiles logged onto his computer and tried to look up about werewolf lore, but after five minutes he got distracted by the smell in his room. It snuck too much of sex and Derek. So he got up and got some air freshener. He sprayed out his room, hoping the spray would do the job. He didn't want to open the window to air out the room because they seemed like an open invitation to every supernatural creature to come in and make themselves at home.

Stiles decided to change the washing over and put his Dad's uniform on. Then the kitchen needed a wash and the cupboards needed sorting out and his homework needed to be done and the lawn needed to be done and he needed to get the research done and he needed to text Danny to get notes from class today and-

"Stiles!" His Dad sighed as he came into the kitchen. Stiles was making cupcakes and there was flour everywhere. There was also a basket of unfolded washing on the floor and the cupboards were open and there were tins of food all over the sides and books and his laptop on the table and the lawn mower was still out in the garden.

"Sorry," Stiles said, his thoughts feeling rushed and all over the place. He could hear the couple next door arguing again and kids playing in the green behind the garden.

"I thought you had a headache?" His Dad asked as he started putting tins away.

"I do, but I couldn't stay in bed," Stiles told him, wiping his flour covered hands on his jeans and helping put the tins away.

"Have you taken your medicine?" Dad asked. Stiles nodded, worrying his lip. He had taken another two, two more than he was supposed to, but they hadn't worked.

"Maybe they didn't work because you're ill," the Sheriff suggested, feeling Stiles' head again. Stiles' knew he was hot because Derek and Scott were always hot.

"Yeah," Stiles mumbled, swallowing away the real reason for his suppose fever.

His Dad then went around the room, trying to finish all the tasks that Stiles had started but never got to finfish. He had got distracted each time. The Adderall normally helped him focus but it hadn't worked today. He knew it was because his new body was immune to these medicines. Just like pain killers and alcohol. However, being a werewolf didn't get rid of his ADHD so he was running around like a mad man and he couldn't focus on anything, which was made 100 per cent worse by the fact he had a million more things to distract him with his enhanced senses.

Together, Stiles and the Sheriff got the kitchen cleaned up, the washing done, the lawn mower put away, the cupcakes baked and dinner on. Stiles found that he was able to focus more with his Dad around him. The smell of his Dad and his heartbeat, even though there was something wrong with it, gave Stiles something to focus on, instead of random things around him. He was still distracted by the car horn two blocks over and the fox coming out to hunt as it got dark, but not as much as before.

"Dad," Stiles said as they ate their dinner.

"Yeah," the Sheriff asked, glaring at the wholegrain rice on his fork.

"When was the last time you had a check-up at the doctors?" Stiles asked, listening to the whooshing sound coming from his Dad's chest. The Sheriff frowned, looking at his son.

"I don't know, a while I guess."

"Maybe...maybe you should go...and you know get a check-up," Stiles said nervously, "I mean, you're not getting any younger and a lot has happened recently and it wouldn't hurt to just get a check-up, you know, just in case, things can go undetected for a while and-"

"Stiles?" His Dad stopped him. Stiles looked up, his eyes moist. He could smell his Mum on his Dad again and he winced slightly, remembering the last time he had seen her. Her dead eyes looking at him.

"I'll go get a check-up," his Dad reassured him. Stiles nodded, swallowing away his tears and stuffing his mouth with rice and chicken so he could shut up.

His Dad left for work an hour later and Stiles was left alone again. He locked all the doors and made sure all the windows were shut so he didn't have any unwanted guests. He lingered in his Dad's room for a moment, smelling the scents he hadn't known were there anymore. His Mum's perfumes and some of her jewellery. They didn't smell that much like her anymore but she was still in them.

Stiles shook his head, tears coming to his eyes again. He had to get out of there as it got too much. All the memories hitting him at once. It wasn't fair. He had tried so hard to bury them and these enhance senses were bringing them to the surface again.

To shove them to one side, Stiles thought instead of Derek and how angry he was at him. This was all his fault. What had happened last night? He had been so gentle and caring and then he had just turned without warning.

Had Derek known? Had he known that he was going to lost control? Had he known that it was a risk? And it he had then why had he gone through with it? Had he wanted Stiles to become a werewolf? Was it just so he would have a stronger pack?

Rage filled Stiles and he grabbed the nearest object to him, which was a book, and thrown it against his wall. It hit a picture, which fell to the floor and smashed. He clutched his jaw tightly and clutched his fists. It was then he noticed that his nails had grown longer and sharper and there was more hair on his hands than usual. He looked up at his mirror and saw that his eyes were glowing orange again.

"No, no," Stiles whispered, pacing his room. He didn't want to change. He needed to stay in control.

"Calm down," he mumbled, but it didn't work. Nothing worked. He thought of his Dad but he felt too guilty when he thought of his Dad. Too sad when he thought of his Mum. Too angry when he thought of Derek.

He paced the floor of his room. He had too much energy to sit down but he was too scared to go out because he didn't want to run into Derek.

Finally he put a movie on. Good old Star Wars because how could someone get distracted from Star Wars?

And it worked. Stiles laid on his bed and watched the film without getting up once, and then, by some small miracle, he fell asleep through the credits. Someone up there loved him, he decided as he drafted off.