It all starts with a witch. Every bad thing always starts with a witch, doesn't it?
Kate was a witch, just a different kind. Jennifer was a witch, just under another name. This one, though? This one is a literal witch, full magic power, green skin, right out of "The Wizard of Oz" type of witch. Her name is Annie.
Derek is proud to say that he did not get involved with this one. What he is definitely not proud of, however, is pissing her off. He really doesn't even know what he did or said, he just knows that Annie declared war on his pack and that landed them all in the middle of the Preserve, on the Hunter's Moon night, bloodied and dirty, jumping around like crazed rabbits, doing their very best to avoid green, red and purple lights shooting from Annie's fingertips and to take her down, at the same time.
"I will jinx you all!" She's screeching at the top of her lungs, a crazy laughter bubbling up from deep inside her chest as she throws a flash of green Derek's way.
Multiple things happen all at once.
Stiles yells "NO" and jumps in front of Derek to protect him with his frail, human body. Derek's wolf takes over almost yelling mate protect mate making Derek grab onto Stiles to push him back or away or anywhere else that is not in the direct range of the sickeningly green flash. Stiles grabs onto Derek's hand to stop himself from being pushed aside, even as he steps to the left and opens his mouth to protest.
That's the exact second the jinx hits the both of them at full blast. The force of it throws them into a near-by tree.
The rush of pain is expected but its intensity is not. It takes Derek's breath away. He closes his eyes for half a second, just to blink, just to allow his body's healing to kick in, and another kind of pain hits. He's grabbing onto Stiles' arm like a life line while his whole body seems to be ripped away from his being. He can hear his wolf howl in pain inside of his brain. All the times Kate and her deranged family have captured and tortured him, not once have Derek, nor his wolf, felt this kind of pain. It makes everything around him go white, the sound turn to nothing and smells die out from his nose. Even Derek's wolf is quieted down, his presence lost in a sea of white nothingness. The only thing Derek can really feel anymore is that one contact point he still has with Stiles. But even that begins to fade away slowly.
Instead a hot, point begins to form on his arm. Like a burning iron brand around his wrist. He wants to scream, opens his mouth to do so, but there is no sound. His vocal chords won't work, his healing won't kick in, his wolf won't move. Derek gasps for air and the pain finally begins to subside. It feels like years have passed in this white, soundless, odorless place, but he opens his eyes and the Hunter's Moon is still up above the tree tops.
His vision is fuzzy, his ribs may be cracked from the collision with the tree, his wolf is quiet, too quiet, but he can move his fingers and toes and his ears are ringing, which means his senses are slowly getting back to normal.
The forest seems quiet somehow. He was expecting growling and electrical charges all around, but the fight seems to have died down. Someone won. Derek hopes it wasn't Annie.
He tries to stand, but there's a heavy weight on top of him and the iron brand is still around his wrist. He blinks twice, slowly, trying to adjust his senses, trying to reach the wolf inside of himself and breach the gap create by hitting his head, as he looks down at his hand. A shock passes through him and a very not so masculine squeal escapes his lips.
The sound is so familiar to his ears. All too familiar. Just not coming from his lips. Well, maybe not his lips. Since his lips – and his entire body, actually – are now on top of him. Derek wants to squeak again. He barely holds it in. How is his body on top of him? What happened and who's body…?
Derek's eyes open. They blink once. Twice. Three times.
"What the actual fuck?" Derek's voice asks as his body jumps to his feet and he stumbles backwards until his back hits another tree. "What the fuck? Dude! What are you doing in my body?" Stiles asks with Derek's voice.
"Don't call me dude." Is the first thing that comes out of Derek's mouth. Which is actually Stiles' mouth. Derek feels cold instantly. Cold and alone. More alone than he's ever felt in his life. He wraps Stiles' arms around himself.
"Derek?" Isaac asks from their right, his voice small, like a wounded puppy.
"Yes." Derek answers from Stiles' body.
"Stiles?" Scott pipes in, his eyes as wide as serving plates.
"Yes." Stiles replies in Derek's angry voice while folding Derek's arms over his chest.
"What happened? What did you do?" Cora asks and Derek turns to see her tie Annie down like a hog. The witch is knocked out but a creepy grin is still imprinted on her otherwise surprisingly beautiful face.
"Nothing…" Derek tries to explain through Stiles' vocal chords. It feels weird to use someone else's voice to express himself. It feels weird to not have the comfort of his wolf. Derek shivers.
"Nothing, we did nothing!" Stiles starts to babble using Derek's voice, face and whole body to explain himself. "Annie! Annie jinxed us" He points uselessly at the sleeping witch. "She threw some kind of green lightning bolt Derek's way and I jumped in to push him aside and got knocked out by the green flashy thingy and then I woke up to… to this… to…"
"You swapped bodies?" Isaac asked with fascination. It's the same expression he has on when watching Doctor Who on the TV Stiles made Derek buy for pack nights.
"Yes." Derek uses Stiles' body to cross his arms over his chest. He forces himself to get over the loneliness and weirdness. His wolf is safe. His m… ahem! Stiles is safe. He should count his blessings. Derek takes a deep breath to steady himself and to evaluate the situation. His senses are dull, much duller than he's used to. And with good reason. Human eyes can not compare to the eyes of an Alpha werewolf, even if they have twenty-twenty vision, which Stiles clearly has not. Sound is also muffled, like having cotton balls in his ears. He can't hear the forest, can't hear his pack's heart beats. Can't smell if they're ok or wounded.
"Don't sound so chipper about it." Stiles snaps at him. "You got the easy part." He mutters. "My head is splitting in two with all the sensory overload I'm having to deal with. How the fuck do you handle so much noise… like… I can hear you breathing way over there…" Stiles whines, covering his ears – Derek's ears – with his hands.
Derek shrugs one of Stiles' shoulders. "It comes natural to me. I'm the Alpha."
"Oh. My. God. Now he's making jokes and being sassy." Stiles groans, hands still over his ears. Derek resists the urge to smirk. He may be stuck in Stiles' body, but he's still the bigger man.
"Ok, if you're done with your pissing contest…" Cora chimes in helpfully. "…We can get out of here? I'm bloodied up and hungry…"
"Like a wolf?" Stiles offers helpfully. In Derek's voice. Cora stops in her tracks for a second. She recovers quickly, though.
"You're just as much a wolf as I am, now, Stilinski, so shut it with the wolf jokes." She counters, throwing Annie over her shoulder like a hog-tied-sack-of-potatoes. "I'm going home." Isaac trails after her. A small, besotted smile on his face. Scott lingers, unsure of what to do.
Stiles groans, throws his head back like he's about to howl at the moon – how weird is it to watch your own body move from right next to it? – and groans and deflates visibly.
"We need to see Deaton." Derek says. He's aiming for imposing Alpha voice. Instead it comes out sounding like a petulant child. Which Stiles is. Still. At 23.
"No need." Stiles replies just as he starts following in Cora's footsteps, towards the Hale home. "I can handle this."
"You can't handle shit." Derek answers without thinking. Stiles gasps as his eyes burn bright Alpha red and a growl creeps into his voice.
"Stiles… you're not exactly yourself…" Scott points out diplomatically. And when did that happen? Derek thinks. When did Scott become the diplomat of the pack? Or between Stiles and Derek, even?
"I'm in your body. You can't do magic in mine. I know nothing about this shit. We need. To see. Deaton." Derek reiterates. His voice scratches a nerve inside of his skull. He really, really does not like to speak with someone else's voice. Even if that voice is Stiles' voice.
Stiles doesn't look happy. He draws Derek's eyebrows to the very middle of his face. It makes Derek's face look like it has a caterpillar in between his eyes and his forehead. Derek stares. He stares at his own face. He stares so hard he forgets to watch where he's going.
Obviously not watching his steps while in Stiles' body is a bad decision. He realizes this the very next second when he quite literally bites the dust when his foot gets caught in a root just because he decided to follow Stiles and Scott back to the Hale house.
Derek can swear that root was not there a few seconds before. But then again, that's what Stiles always says. And Derek makes fun of him for it. Always.
Pain blooms again. His right knee is in bad shape and bleeding. Derek's not used to bleeding much when getting mundane injuries. So, it surprises him that the blood doesn't stop flowing and that the pain does not simply ebb away and vanish on its own.
Stiles simply picks him up and throws him over his shoulder. Derek squeaks with the indignity of it all, then muffles his small cries of pain when Stiles jostles him too much and his injured knee scrapes against the leather of his jacket.
By the time they've reached the Hale home his injury has somehow stopped bleeding – Derek thought, for a fleeting second, that he'd hit some important vein and he'd slowly but surely bleed to death. The pain is now somewhat subdued, but it has not gone away, nor does it show signs of going away any time soon.
Stiles puts Derek on the couch and fishes out his phone. Derek's phone from his backside pocket.
"That's mine." Derek tries to growl, but the human voice he now has spoils the whole sound effect.
"Mine is in the inside pocket of the hoodie." They exchange phones and Stiles dials Deaton. Or, at least, Derek hopes Stiles dial Deaton. He can't hear the other end of the conversation, for the first time in his life. It's annoying.
Deaton is at the Hale house within the hour. His verdict? As much as Derek can make of the mysterious half riddle Deaton had offered them, is that they'll have to wait the jinx out. Let it take its course.
"It was meant to kill one person." Deaton says. "But you changed it because you were touching." He throws Derek a meaningful look. Derek averts his eyes, pretends he didn't understand. "And Stiles being a spark altered the jinx further. The result you see before you. No one dead, but two people switched bodies."
Deaton leaves soon after, saying he has no idea how long the jinx will last. A day? A month? A week? Could just as easily last a year or for the rest of their lives.
"In other words, he has no fucking clue how we got stuck like this, how long it will last and how to reverse this shit." Stiles summarizes the consultation."Well… Fuck!"
"Fuck, indeed." Derek deadpans. It falls flat on delivery
"I need to tell Dad." Stiles says and, even in Derek's voice, it sounds dejected, like a kicked puppy. He grabs his phone to dial the Sheriff's number but Derek puts a hand on his arm.
"Maybe I should do that… since I have your voice and all…" Derek gestures with his other hand. Stiles' long fingers, a bit distracting even under this dreadful situation. Stiles nods and quietly hands his phone over. It's a sign of how bad he's taking it all that he hasn't vocalized any complaints or challenged Derek's plan on principle.
Derek calls the Sheriff. A cold shiver runs down his spine and back up. He recognizes the feeling as the beginning of anxiety. He takes a few deep breaths. Stiles puts a hand on his leg to stop him from bouncing him whole body off the couch. The Sheriff picks up on the third ring.
"Son." He greets with ease.
"Erm… yeah... Dad... hi…" Derek babbles. It feels weird to address someone as "dad" after so many years. Even if it is the Sheriff. Even if the Sheriff has been like an actual father to Derek for many years now. It brings a pang of old-forgotten pain to Derek's chest. He has to rub at his sternum for that lump to go away.
"Stiles, son." The Sheriff's tone turns worried. "What's wrong?"
"N-n-nothing… just… can you come by Derek's?" Derek finally manages to get out.
"By Derek's? What happened now?" Derek can hear the Sheriff getting up, his voice exasperated, a little worried and a lot fond. Of his son. Maybe even of Derek.
"N-n-nothing…" Derek stammers. Stiles grabs the phone from his hand before he can say anything more. "Why d'you do that?" He scowls at Stiles… at his own face.
"You were stammering and scaring my father." Stiles scowls, taking his phone away and moving to lean against the door frame. "I don't want to lose him to a heart attack, Derek." He says quietly. So quiet, Derek almost misses it.
Before Derek can reply Scott comes back into the den. "The Sheriff called. He said you hanged up on him… I told him you and Derek got jinxed. He's coming…"
"You told him WHAT?" Stiles growls. He's using his Alpha voice without realizing it. His eyes are crimson, not just red. Scott whimpers and hangs his head.
"He was worried…" He whispers while baring his neck unconsciously. Derek gawks. Scott never bared his neck to him. How ca Stiles get Scott to do – in 5 minutes as a werewolf – what Derek's been trying to do for years?
"Stiles. Focus." He says quietly when he begins to recognize the signs that Scott's submission is not placating the Alpha inside of Stiles. "Focus on me. My voice." Derek says, knowing perfectly well what effect Stiles' voice will have on his wolf. Stiles whines but his eyes are back to hazel when he blinks.
"How on Earth did you manage to switch bodies?" The Sheriff asks just a few minutes later, when he gets to the Hale house. Apparently traffic laws do not matter much when you're the Sheriff and your son is in trouble. Stiles would have a field day with this under normal circumstances.
"We didn't do anything!" Stiles protests, but it's Derek voice and Derek's face that says it and the Sheriff looks just as confused as Derek feels. It's been a few hours. He's had time to get used to the dull senses. It's still weird as fuck. He wants his body back. He folds his arms across his chest. It doesn't feel right. It doesn't give him the same safe feeling as folding his own arms over his own body. Derek wants to groan. But he's not a petulant child, so he resigns himself to huffing out an annoyed breath.
"Stiles, you always do something." The Sheriff says. It's funny. The poor man's gaze is searching for his son's face and meets Derek's gaze.
"I'm over here!" Stiles is a fraction of an inch away from stomping his feet.
"Sorry… it's just…" The Sheriff says looking between the two of them.
"I know." Derek replies.
"Right?" Scott pipes out from the love seat he's been ordered into by a barely calmed down Stiles.
"You shut up." Stiles almost growls. Derek holds back a smirk. He recognizes his wolf taking charge when it comes to Scott. His wolf always thought the inexperienced pup should show submission – willingly or not. Derek has always had trouble holding his wolf in check. It got worse after he's become an Alpha. Stiles now has the same trouble.
"Stiles!" The Sheriff admonishes. Stiles looks sheepish for half a second before the wolf takes over and makes him straighten up. Derek wonders if his inner struggle is as obvious as Stiles' is. But, maybe, he hopes, he can spot all of this since he has first hand inside knowledge.
The Sheriff sighs. "How do we fix this? Have you asked Deaton?"
Stiles scoffs. It sounds weird coming from Derek. "Of course we have, Dad. He has no idea. He fed us some bunch of bull about how we have to wait it out… gah! I want my body back! My brain hurts from all the stimuli…" Stiles groans. "And just so you know" Stiles points an accusing finger at his father's chest. "I can smell the burger you had at lunch on your breath!" The Sheriff looks stunned for a moment. "When we sort all this out, I'm making Scott smell you!"
Scott looks appalled in his little chair and Derek can not hold it in anymore. He bursts out laughing. At Scott's face of horror just thinking he'll have to smell the Sheriff every night. At the Sheriff's amazement of having Derek's finger pushing at his chest, even if the said digit is operated by his son. At the whole situation, really.
Once the giggles start, Derek can not stop. He laughs and laughs until he cries. It doesn't matter no one is joining in, he lets it all out with laughter instead of giving into disappear. He wants his body – and his wolf – back, too.
A week has passed.
Everyone is getting either used to Stiles being Derek and Derek being Stiles or getting angrier and angrier about it.
Derek is getting angrier. The more time Stiles spends with his wolf, the more he'll know about Derek' big secret. It's not like his wolf will keep quiet. He never has. He was always opinionated and loud about it.
Derek's wolf never liked Kate. He was always howling inside Derek's head. One time Derek even had to leave Kate at the edge of the woods because his wolf was howling so loud he could barely hear his own thoughts. It was a Dark Moon but, back then, Derek was still a child, he didn't know what it meant.
The only time Derek's wolf had been quiet was when Derek was with Jennifer. Derek had thought that his wolf had finally liked someone. Turns out the Darrach had put a spell on him, like a magical muzzle. His wolf had howled so loud when the spell had been broken that Derek had had trouble holding himself back from killing the Darrach with his own two wolfed out hands.
All through his rather unfortunate interactions with Kate and Jennifer his wolf had been pining after his mate. Every time his mate was near, the wolf made Derek get as close as he could and then he'd push for more. He'd been craving his mate's gaze and touch. He'd been growling to provide for his mate and keep him safe. Derek barely held his wolf in check.
And now? Now Stiles and his wolf are together all the time. Derek dreads waking up every morning and finding out that Stiles knows about his hopeless crush. Still. It's been a week and Stiles doesn't seem to know anything. Or, if he does, he's doing a really good job of hiding it from Derek.
Derek sighs and gets out of bed. It's no use to think of this and work himself up without reason.
The only good thing about this curse? He's gotten to see Stiles' naked body fully. Stiles had made him promise not to look, but how could he not? He spent half a day naked in his bedroom just looking at Stiles' naked body from every angle, memorizing the beautiful patterns all over his arms and back, wishing, dreaming he could do this from his own body, wishing he could run his hands all over the beautifully defined muscles wrapped in alabaster skin, dotted with beauty marks like stars on a clear and crisp night sky.
And because he couldn't help himself, Derek even indulged himself and took a few photos of Stiles' naked arms and thighs and check and back. Nothing inappropriate. Just little reminders. Souvenirs for when he'll be back in his own body and won't be allowed to see and touch anymore. He's hidden the photos deep in his phone. He even applied Stiles' skilled fingers at some Google-fu so that he could stop the pictures from appearing in his Gallery. Yes. Extreme, but hiding things from Stiles? You have to take extreme measures and precautions. Not much gets past his mate.
Derek finds himself sighing under the spray of his morning shower. The sore muscles at the top of his back relax under the hot spray as Stiles' young and vigorous body fully wakes up. The feeling is just like his own body waking up, but there's just another layer of satisfaction as he takes his morning wood in hand to take care of it. Another sigh escapes his lips and Derek wonders if Stiles would make the same noises himself. Wonders if the way he touches himself now is the same way Stiles touches himself and he's going through the motions on muscle memory. He wonders if Stiles has touched him yet.
Stiles is curious by nature. Derek smiles lightly as his breaths come in quicker, shallower, thinking of Stiles touching himself, thinking of his wolf preening on the inside for their mate to find them worthy of that touch. There's a pang of loneliness in Derek's chest, but he chases the feeling away easily as his release approaches. Stiles' young body is highly responsive. It takes mere minutes for him to reach his orgasm and flop like a wet rag onto the shower wall.
The tile is cold against his skin. It helps get his feet under him a little faster.
Derek washes slowly, enjoying the time he has, then pulls on a pair of workout pants. They're a bit too big on Stiles' lithe body, but Derek likes the way they hang on Stiles' hip bones. A smile tugs at the corner of his lips whenever he catches a glimpse of his reflection in a mirror. He's indulging. Sue him.
He goes downstairs to make breakfast. He finds Cora nursing a coffee.
"Morning." He greets his sister.
"Ew." She says simply before abandoning the kitchen to run to the back porch. It's November by now and it's a bit chilly, but Cora's a werewolf, she runs hot and actually enjoys the colder weather.
Derek shrugs and gets on with making his breakfast.
Two more days pass before Stiles shows Derek's face around the Hale house. He's been abusing Derek's "wolfy powers" at the Beacon Hills County Library where he's spent every second devouring their occult section and Goggle-fu-ing the hell out of "jinxed", hoping to find a solution to their current problem.
The pack has taken turns with bringing him food and water to drink, because when Stiles gets into a research binge – no matter the body he's inhabiting – he forgets to eat. Quite possibly, he even forgets to poop.
Derek is scared of the state in which his body will be when he finally gets it back. Stiles has not cared anything about Derek's workout regimen or dietary needs. He thinks Derek simply gets his body by his werewolf nature, he does not understand what it takes to look like that.
"Derek!" Stiles yells from the doorway.
"In here." Derek answers from the gym in the basement. In a normal voice. Stiles will hear him.
"There you…" Stiles quiets for a bit. "What ARE you doing to my body?" He growls as soon as he sees Derek going through his normal exercise routine. If he's in another body, it doesn't mean he'll slack off.
"I'm doing pull-ups, Stiles." Derek huffs out. It's a lot harder to do pull-ups in Stiles' body than it is in his own. He can barely do 50 before his arms start to ache. His normal minimum is 200.
"Do you really have to do that?" Stiles growls.
"Yes." Derek huffs. He's already at 37. He still has a way to go till he hit limit.
"Can you, at least put a shirt on?" Stiles growls again. And. Oh! Derek knows that growl. His grip slips from the surprise. Before he knows what's happening, he's falling from the bar and can't seem to find his balance to keep from braining himself on something.
Stiles saves him, though. A string arm, like an iron brand, is holding his waist tightly.
"Careful." Stiles says. His voice is low. Husky. His eyes are burning bright red and are half lidded and his mouth is slightly open. Derek knows Stiles is taking in his scent. Oh! Oh! Hope blooms in his chest like a firework explosion on the 4th of July.
"Thank you." He whispers, dares to look down at Stiles' lips – his own lips. He shouldn't find this situation sexual. It should be awkward. He shouldn't want to kiss his own mouth. He shouldn't want to know how it feels to get lost in his own body. Except it's not his body now. It's Stiles'. And Derek will always want Stiles. In every way. In every form. In every body.
"Derek…" Stiles is breathing deeply. Inhaling his scent. Filling his lungs with his scent. And Derek knows how that's like. He knows deep in his bones the allure of Stiles' scent. Knows deep in his bones how his wolf react to Stiles' scent – fresh cut grass, earth, spice and just a slight undertone of ozone deepened and sweetened with the arousal coursing through his bloodstream. He wishes his current nose was as good as his old one. He wishes he could smell them together.
"Yes…" Derek answers ages later. He has no idea what Stiles wants, what he's agreeing to. Stiles whines. Derek bites his lip. "Yes." He says again.
Stiles closes the distance between their lips and kisses him roughly, his lips quick and demanding but not pressuring for more than he's willing to give. A mewl escapes from someplace between them and Derek could not tell if it was him or Stiles who produced that sound, instead he wraps his arms around Stiles neck and jumps. Stiles catches him easily, growling possessively. Derek recognizes his wolf in that growl.
"Fuck yes." He says again.
It's Derek who attacks Stiles' mouth this time. He deepens the kiss instantly and gets lost in Stiles' taste. He's dizzy with happiness and wonder, so dizzy he barely feels his back pushed against a wall and Stiles rubbing himself shamelessly against him. What he does feel is the pressure building inside him. It keep growing with each touch of Stiles' lips against his, each undulation of Stiles' hips against his own, it keeps growing until Derek feels like bursting.
"Stiles…" Derek whines, trying to get Stiles to stop for a second, allow him to catch his breath. Instead Stiles adds more pressure to his hips, speeds up his thrusts and hides his face in the crook of Derek's neck. Derek can feel him taking deep breaths through his mouth. "Please…" He says, like his mouth can not stop talking. Stiles whines. Derek can feel the scrape of his elongated canines.
"Please… please… Stiles…" Words just slip from Derek's mouth, his fingers bury themselves in Stiles' hair. Stiles begins to vibrate, almost purr like a cat and Derek just pushes his head further into his neck. Stiles' mouth and extended canines wrap around Derek's frail jugular. "Please…" Derek pushes gently one last time before he comes undone. He shakes with the force of his release.
Stiles breathes deeply, now too blissfully far gone to be able to hold any control over Derek's wolf. "Mine" the wolf growls, eyes bright red, fangs on full display. Derek nods his acceptance and Stiles finally finds his own release. The wolf throws his head back and howls at the top of his lungs.
Derek feels the exact moment when Stiles' knees give up from under him. They gently slide to the floor as the wolf draws back. Stiles' eye return to their normal hazel color, his teeth return to their human bluntness and Derek just simply holds him and caresses his hair.
After a few moments of quiet, Stiles finally speaks.
"I found a way to break the curse." He says into Derek's chest. Derek freezes. Swallows hard.
"How?" he asks with a shaky voice. Breaking the curse, while being able to be back in his own body, being able to be whole again, means that he will no longer be able to see and touch Stiles' body… it's bitter-sweet.
Stiles mumbles something. It's too quiet for Derek to pick up with human ears.
"What?"
"We need to have sex…" Stiles finally says out loud.
"That's why…?" Derek can't bear to finish the sentence. His hopes crash and burn just as fast as they had grown a few minutes earlier. He'd been a fool daring to dream that Stiles would want him for real. Yes, there has always been sexual tension between them – Derek is a werewolf with eyes and nose and a fully functioning brain that knows how to interpret pheromones, thank you very much – but that doesn't mean Stiles wants more than just a night of fun. And Derek could not handle having a drop when he fucking wants the whole ocean!
"That's why, what?..." Stiles begins. "Wait… what?... Derek! No! You think I only kissed you to get rid of the curse?" Derek averts his eyes. He can feel his face burning and his eyes stinging. He wants to pull away, hide someplace, but Stiles won't let him. Stiles just hugs him tighter. "God! No! Derek… I've had a crush on you for years. I never thought you'd want me back… but the way you smelled when I walked in… God… Derek, do you even know how you smell?" Stiles utters, his voice rough once again.
Yes. I do. I smell like you. Derek thinks but asks instead: "How do I smell?"
"Like mine." Stiles growls.
Derek has no idea what surprises him more – that Stiles claimed ownership of him or that he knows it was not the wolf talking.
"Yours?" Derek squeaks, swallows hard. Stiles buries his nose in the crook of Derek's neck.
"Mine." Stiles says again, inhaling deeply. Derek shivers. He returns to petting Stiles' hair. He can't be sure – not this time – that it's not his wolf talking, but it feels so good to hear Stiles say that. It really doesn't matter anymore. Stiles always said he deserves to be happy. Now, Derek thinks, it's that time. The time to be selfish and happy, for a change. So he closes his eyes and lets Stiles hold him and scent him to his heart's desire… and his wolf's content. He loses track of time for bit.
"Maybe we should clean up a little…" Stiles says, but sounds reluctant.
"Cora'll whine and complain about the stench in the gym." Derek says with a smile. Stiles moves away enough to look Derek in the eyes. And Derek feels his gaze right to the marrow of his bones. He can't help but smile.
Stiles places a small kiss on his lips, eyes closed, a little happy sigh escaping him. "Maybe we should go shower…" He suggests. He sounds so shy. Derek beams.
"You can wash my back… there's this spot I can't quite reach…"
"This one?" Stiles smiles and touches just the right place on Derek's sweaty back. Derek mumbles a little "mhmm" while biting his lips. He's afraid if he opens his mouth he'll say something stupid. "Oh, you definitely need a loofah to reach it…" Stiles scratches that same spot gently, with blunt human nails. Derek wants to purr with pleasure. "I can definitely take care of it." There's a mischievous smile tugging at the corner of Stiles' lips. Derek didn't know his face could do that. Could look so devastating. He almost opens his mouth to say so, but Stiles stops him with a well timed kiss.
Stiles pulls away and begins to stand. Derek doesn't bother moving. He just wraps his legs around Stiles' waist and his arms around Stiles' neck.
Stiles' eyes widen when he catches on. "Just what are you doing?"
"You can carry me without breaking a sweat." Derek answers confidently, knowing perfectly well the power his body holds.
"You spoiled…" Stiles mumbles but tightens his grip on Derek's thighs as he moves away from the wall they've been leaning on. "You expect me to carry you up two flights of stairs?"
"You've been neglecting my workouts. Consider it like catching up to that…" Derek answers coyly. Stiles rolls his eyes but climbs the basement stairs regardless.
He takes them to Derek's bedroom. Due to the closeness, Derek can now feel the erratic beating for Stiles' heart. They're both just as nervous. The thought puts Derek's mind at ease. A little. He nervous about everything that's about to happen.
He's going to have his first time with Stiles. While they're in each other's body. It seems wrong and weird, on some level, but, it also seems like the only way for them, like this curse was not really a curse but a way to have them end up in this place, in this moment. Derek decides to let the craziness of all of this wait for another day and just enjoy being with Stiles. Any way he can.
"What happened? What did you think of?" Stiles asks while setting Derek down on his bed. "Your scent changed."
"How did it change?" Derek grabs onto the moment to teach Stiles about how he senses the world. If Stiles is right, if sleeping together will get them back to their own bodies, then, this is Derek's last chance to share something this important with him.
Stiles takes a deep breath. "I can't place it… it's…" another breath "…fuller… richer… like a ripe fruit." Stiles tries. Derek nods.
"That's accurate, I guess. I just decided to get out of my head – or your head – and just live in the now. You sensed my focus shift. But it's not my scent that changed, though you sense it like that."
"I like it. You should always live in the moment." Stiles moves to the crook of Derek's neck. "You're intoxicating… I don't know how you live with all of these senses, Derek… your scent… it's driving me nuts…"
"Sometimes it's hard." Stiles snorts at the word, a smug smile tugging at his lips. Derek can feel him smile into his skin. "Sometimes, like right now, it's easy… right now, I miss my senses. I desperately want to know how we smell together."
"Like coming home." Stiles answer and captures Derek's lips in a deep kiss. Derek leans back and Stiles follows until they end up half on the bed, half off it, making out like teen agers, their touches light, almost reverent.
"We should really clean up…" Derek manages some time later, when his lips are red and swollen and his skin is all tingly from where Stiles has not stopped petting him. Stiles pulls back a little and agrees before getting off of Derek and the bed and offering a helping hand. Derek smiles at the gesture. He takes Stiles' proffered hand and finds himself in his lover's arms. Stiles hands run down his naked back.
They walk the few steps to Derek's bathroom like besotted fools, holding hands. Derek could howl with happiness right now.
As soon as the bathroom door closes behind them, shyness takes over Derek. Which is so irrational. Stiles knows this body better than Derek himself. Still. This is the very first time they'll be fully naked in front of one another and Derek is shy. Stiles looks just as red in the face. It's silly, really.
"God." Stiles says. "Stop being shy. You're making me shy about this, as well. And you know I know you know my body just like you know I know your body sooo…" Stiles says quick-fire. Derek tilts his head to one side trying to catch on to all the knowing going on inside Stiles' mind. "You look like a puppy." Stiles coos. Derek frowns.
"Again with the dog jokes."
"You love them."
"No. Actually I just love you." It slips out of Derek's mouth before he can even comprehend what he said. When his brain finally catches up with his mouth he remains stunned like a statue. Stiles is looking at him with the biggest eyes Derek's body is capable of making.
"You lo-lo-love me?" He asks incredulously. Derek sighs.
"Yeah…" He admits quietly. "I'm sorry to blurt it out like that it's just I seem to have no brain-to-mouth filter nor coordination in this body…"
Stiles punches his upper arm lightly. "Jerk." Derek smiles softly but ducks his head to hide it. "I love you, too." Derek's eyes snap up to meet Stiles'. "Now, can we, please, stop being mushy and have that shower? It's really uncomfortable in these pants." Derek does a pretty good imitation of a fish, opening and closing his mouth a couple of times, without any sound coming out.
"You… you…" He squeaks when his voice finally returns. "You can't just casually say…"
"Why not? You did?"
"I didn't… not on purpose…"
"Do you want to take it back?"
"NO. Why would you even ask…?"
"Then why are we fighting, Derek?" Stiles asks. Derek deflates.
"When did you become the reasonable one?"
"I've always been reasonable. I'm reasonable and calm like Yoda."
Derek bursts out laughing. "Yeah, you're tiny and green, alright." Stiles gasps.
"I'll show you tiny!" He says and picks Derek up off the floor only to dump him in the bathtub, work-out pants on and all, and turn the shower on him. Derek continues to laugh as he pushes down the pants and underwear.
"You're washing those, since you're the reason why they're a mess."
"Meh." Stiles simply replies, shrugging his shoulders while his eyes roam every inch of Derek's body. "Worth it." He adds as he begins getting undressed. Slowly. Derek watches with avid eyes for a second but catches himself.
"Like what you see, huh?" He teases and turns around to grab his favorite body wash. The move kind of backfires, because not two whole seconds later he finds himself flat face-first up against the cold tile shower wall with a whole lot of werewolf heat plastered onto his back. Stiles is growling again and Derek's willing to bet that his eyes are Alpha red once more. A little moan escapes him.
Stiles grabs his ass to pull his cheeks apart. Derek's eyes are about to roll inside of his head when he feels Stiles nestle his erection in between his spread cheeks. Once he's satisfied, Stiles lets go of his ass. His hands roam up over Derek's back but his hot erection provides a hot, delicious weight for Derek to hold. He pushes back a little to feel more of Stiles. More. Just more.
Stiles get the point and pulls him away from the wall, his hands now roaming Derek's chest. Derek sighs leaning on Stiles. His head falls back onto Stiles' shoulder. Stiles growls.
"I want to bite you." He mumbles, the words distorted over his elongated teeth. Derek's knees almost give in. Stiles rubs against his ass while running his hands all over Derek's torso.
"I want you to…" He breathes out harshly. He can feel Stiles take a deeper breath getting ready to do just that. "… but…" Derek adds as he tries to blink, to clear his head. "…this is your body, Stiles… and… and this bite would mean so much… so much more… oh! God! How I want you to bite me…" And Stiles does. Using blunt human teeth, holding onto Derek's jugular gently. Derek mewls and comes untouched. Stiles shudders in return.
"We have time to have that discussion…" Stiles says as he gently strokes a finger over the length of Derek's manhood. Derek shivers feeling oversensitive. "Can you still stand?" Derek answers a sleepy "mhmm". Stiles gently pushes him back against the wall. A few seconds later Derek hear the small pop from the body wash being opened. He sighs into his forearm feeling spoiled as Stiles gently washes his back and allows himself to be guided back onto Stiles' chest so that his lover can wash his torso as well. When Stiles reaches to wash his pectorals, Derek wraps his arms around Stiles', trapping him there, in a soapy hug.
"My legs are still dirty…" Derek teases and squeezes his cheeks together. Stiles is still painfully hard, heavy and hot in between them. The action draws a chocked up moan from him.
"So are other parts of you." Stiles answers as his left hand moves lower onto Derek's abdomen.
"Yes…"
"I should really take care of that…"
"Yeah…"
"Lean on the wall." Stiles orders. The Alpha is back in his voice. Derek's spent cock twitches with renewed interest. "I'll get you nice and clean" Stiles whispers and moves just a little, holding onto Derek's hips for support. Derek can't bite back a moan. Stiles pushes back again and away once more. This time the heavy head of his cock leaves Derek ass. Derek whines. He wants it back.
"Shh… Let me take care of you…" Derek sighs but pushes back a little, presenting. Stiles growls from deep inside his chest. His hands move to Derek's ass where they squeeze. Derek pushes into the touch. Stiles thumbs brush lightly just around Derek opening drawing a frustrated noise from him.
"Fuck, look at you… you really like this, don't you?" Stiles asks, as if in a daze.
"Yes, fuck." Derek answers breathlessly, pushing back even further into Stiles' touch. One of Stiles' thumb catches Derek's rim. It feels like fire is entering his system and coursing through his veins.
"Fuck." Stiles says again. Derek knows he's watching the way his thumb is slowly pressing on his opening and how he's opening to welcome that thumb inside of him. "Fuck, Derek…" Derek moans loudly when Stiles' digit finally breaches him. It feels so good. So right. He wants more. He needs more.
Stiles kneels behind him, words of praise escaping his mouth. Derek pushes against Stiles thumb, essentially fucking himself on it. It's not nearly enough, he can barely feel it, especially with the hot water of running down his back, making everything slippery and relaxed.
Stiles leans in and kisses the top of his right ass cheek. It feels like ownership mark on his skin but also like a promise. Derek shivers as he feels Stiles' other thumb pulling at his rim. He's anticipating the moment Stiles will decide to add that finger as well and really start opening him up. Derek wants, needs to be opened, needs to be taken, possessed, owned. God, he needs it so bad! His mouth has started running away with him again, all his needs and dreams now spilling out, fattening his own cock with the imagery his painting. He can feel Stiles barely holding on as his nails elongate then retract with every need Derek is listing.
"Jesus, you have a filthy mouth… we need to wash it out…" Stiles add the moment his second thumb slips inside Derek. Derek mewls in pleasure, but Stiles pull both fingers out. He keeps them on Derek's rim though, gently pulling him open to make room for his tongue. Derek shouts his pleasure when Stiles starts tasting him. He comes again, just from being eaten out. Stiles moans when Derek's hole spasms around his tongue and speeds up, tongue fucking him in earnest through his spasms.
"God, that's so hot…" Stiles says, coming up for air. "Seeing you come undone so easily." He returns to his task of tongue fucking Derek, adding a finger, then two, then three to stretch him out properly. Derek demands more, pushing himself on Stiles' fingers, fucking himself on them. He's come twice but it feels like he's just getting started, like he can't have enough. Stiles adds a fourth finger and Derek finally feels a small pang of pain at the stretch he's experiencing. He gasps for air, but Stiles gives him time to adjust and distracts him by mouthing at his scrotum and ball sack. It takes but a moment for Derek to be back to fucking himself on Stiles' fingers chanting how good it feels, how full, how he wants more, wants Stiles inside of him.
Stiles allows him his time, but pulls back just when Derek's about to come again.
"We need to get to bed, Der." He says sweetly when Derek whines at the loss of his fingers.
"Yeah… yeah…" Derek agrees, but he feels like he can't think straight. Everything is turning white from pleasure, his whole body is humming with it.
Stiles guides them back to bed.
Derek crawls on his hands and knees on top of the covers, lowering his chest on the bed, so that Stiles can have a better view of just how ready his is for more. Stiles steps in behind him and caresses Derek's open hole with the fat head of his cock. It catches on Derek's rim every time. It's the sweetest kind of torture.
"Turn around for me, Der. I want to see you when we do this."
Derek scrambles. He lays flat on his back, his legs wide open – a clear invitation. Stiles smiles and crawls on top of him to kiss him deeply. Apart from their lips, there is no other point of contact between them, and Derek feels cold. He grabs for Stiles' arms and pulls them from under him. Stiles fall on top of Derek , chest to chest, cocks rubbing together deliciously. Stiles giggles a little but settles over Derek more comfortably. The movements rub their cocks together and a joint moan escapes their kiss.
"Please?" Derek asks shyly, caressing Stiles face when they break apart to breath.
"What do you want, Der?"
"Make love to me."
Stiles beams. He whispers a sweet "I am" in Derek's ear as he lifts his pelvis just enough to align himself and slip inside Derek. There's a moment of pain when the head of Stiles' cock breaches him. Derek closes his eyes relishing the sting. Everything around him is Stiles. The smell of Stiles' sweat in his nose, the taste of Stiles' kiss on his lips, the weight of Stiles' body on him, the sting of Stiles' cock inside him. Derek gasps.
Between one breath and the next everything changes. His world turns upside down. His hole doesn't sting anymore, but his cock feels like captured in a tight, hot vice. There's no more weight on top of him, but his arms sting a little. His legs are shaking from holding still. There are constant growls in his head of mate mine mate happy mate mine mine mine and he feels whole again.
Stiles gasps under him and Derek pulls back a bit. Stiles' hands tighten onto his back.
"Stiles?" He asks and it's finally his own voice uttering the words.
"Yeah. Stay. Please."
"Stiles…" Derek opens his eyes to see Stiles' big, bright whiskey brown doe eyes looking back at him. There are unshed tears there. "I love you." He says instead of whatever was about to come out of his mouth, and crashed their lips together just as he slips back inside of Stiles' awaiting body. Stiles' arms and legs wrap around him, one single tear falls down Stiles' cheek and Derek wipes it away with his thumb.
"Derek…" His name on Stiles' lips is like music to Derek's ears.
"I love you so much." He says as he begins to move gently, fighting back the wolf that's urging him to claim, take, mate. "You're my world. My whole world, Stiles." Another tear slips from Stiles' eyes, but he's smiling so big and bright.
"I love you, Sourwolf."
Derek sets a slow, deep rhythm which Stiles matches easily. It suffices for a short time as Derek busies himself with thoroughly kissing Stiles, now that they are in the right bodies. The smell of arousal and happiness and lust that's covering Stiles' body is maddening. Derek's wolf wants to bite, to claim. Derek presses his blunt, human teeth at the jugular of Stiles' right side. Stiles arches his back in pleasure. The movement causes Derek to touch something deep inside of him and Stiles begins to shake slightly.
"If you keep doing that…" Stiles gasps. "I'm gonna come… and I don't know how many times my body can come today…"
"Then come for me." Derek orders in full Alpha voice as his hips suddenly change rhythm from slow and deep to fast and sharp, pounding into Stiles' prostate with perfect accuracy and his teeth close around Stiles' neck just a bit more than the previous time. Stiles shakes and screams his release then falls back to the mattress looking like a well boiled noodle – boneless and happy. The smell of Stiles' come invades Derek to his very core. He bends down a licks up the mess over Stiles' nipples which makes his lover twitch under him.
"You haven't… you need to…" Stiles mumbles trying to push his hips up, to get Derek to move again. Derek get the point and starts moving again in his slow, gentle rhythm.
"I'm not done with you, yet." He says as he raises himself to sit on his haunches. He lifts Stiles right leg and manhandles his lover to the side where he can push back into that welcoming heat and cuddle him from behind.
Stiles throws his leg over Derek's hip, to keep him deep inside and Derek glues himself to Stiles back. This way he starts to pump his hips and watch Stiles' body respond to him. Stiles' cock starts to fatten up again when Derek brushes against his prostate.
"Der, touch me… I need you to touch me…" Stiles is barely able to string a few words together so Derek complies easily. One hand remains on Stiles' chest, so he can play with Stiles' nipples, and the other moves lower to grab Stiles' sack gently. Stiles moans. Derek brushes a finger over Stiles' rim where he's stretched tight around Derek's girth. Stiles moans louder and starts to shake. Derek's hips begin to piston at their own speed and Derek knows he's lost the battle.
The wolf takes over now, Derek's eyes turning red, his fangs growing at full length and his hips snap uncontrollably. Stiles feels the transformation on his neck but his scent doesn't change. He's not afraid Derek's wolf will hurt him. If anything, the scent of lust intensifies.
Stiles lifts his arm to run his fingers through Derek's hair and push his face into the crook of Stiles' neck.
Derek feels his fangs around Stiles' neck and locks his jaws in place, afraid to hurt his lover.
The pleasure builds through gasped breaths and moans and please and yeah fuck more.
When Derek comes, he comes howling like he's always dreamed he would. Tremors of pleasure wreck his body, draining him into Stiles. Yet everything is intensified even more when his howl pushes Stiles to one last orgasm.
Hot. Tight. Stiles. Mate.
The wolf is happy. Stiles smells happy as well. Derek could not ask for more.
Well, maybe he could ask Stiles to take his mating bite, but that is a subject for another moment. Now it is time for sleep with Stiles in his arms.
For once Derek is whole, safe, happy and loved.