A/N: This is my second story published here but my first try at a bit of Sterek PWP. Any comments would be most welcome but please try for constructive comments so I can improve. There may even be a 'In the Heat of the Night' depending on how well this goes down.

In the Stiles of the Night

Stiles had been slammed against the warehouse wall for the fourth time in an hour, Derek breathing viciously over him. "Are you determined to make me rip your..."

"Throat out?" Stiles completed the sentence which, if still terrifying, had become the catchphrase between him and the Alpha. "Jeez dude, I'm not your go to for frustration release or, at least, I hope I'm not. I'm just giving you all the information I have on the Alphas like you wanted. I didn't make them come here and it's not my problem you don't like the facts."

With this Derek released him from the powerful grip, allowing him to slide down the wall and sit, crossed legged on the floor. His back was killing him but he knew it wasn't the pain of permanent damage, just bruising. He zipped his hoodie right up to the neck, maybe Derek could not grab hold of it again if the young man said something the older didn't like.

It also reduced the likelihood of Derek seeing the claw marks on the delicate flesh of his chest, he knew that if the Alpha discovered the damage his guilt may cause him to do something counterproductive. It's not like Stiles cared, this was for Scott and Issac, and Boyd and... okay, so he did care at least a little.

The shift of material brought Stiles' focus back to the now crouched Derek who was peering at him with a mixture of confusion, frustration and concern. "I know. I'm sorry Stiles. I.. I can't seem to get a handle on this Alpha shit. I lash out too quickly and at the wrong people."

"Dude, this is you all over. I've now lost count how many times I've been slammed against this wall, my bedroom wall, school walls, trees, do I need to continue?" Stiles watched Derek's expression change with each example until he had shaken his head. "Well, I think I have had enough of slamming for this evening, we both need to get some shut-eye, big research day tomorrow. Gotta have enough energy for the slamming tomorrow."

He had tried to say it as a joke but the Alpha just stood, helped the younger man up and walked over to stand looking out of his window. Derek didn't even turn when Stiles said goodbye, he just stayed rigid seeing the world outside unfolding into the night, turning his attention only when he heard the sound of Stiles jeep coming to life and watched until it was obscured by the buildings of Beacon Hills.

He pulled his gaze back to look at his reflection in the window and allowed his thoughts to race from asshole to idiot, monster to victim, and then back again. Stiles, human and vulnerable, had given his time to help Derek on countless occasions and he'd thanked him by crashing his frail body on repeated occasions into solid objects. He looked at his hands in disgust and was surprised to see something dark and slick on his fingertips.

His eyes grew wide, he'd hurt Stiles, cut into his flesh when he'd lost his temper and his focus. In that moment, he knew he had to go to Stiles and apologise, to help him tend the wounds if he would let him.

Stiles had pulled up to his house just 20 minutes later, he was pissed at Derek but he couldn't stay angry at him for long. He knew that Derek struggled with being the alpha especially as his guiding hand, his family, were no longer around. He was glad Cora had come back into her brother's life but he did not know her enough to trust that she would help him and not be the hindrance that their uncle is.

He let himself into the dark house knowing that his father was pulling a double, if not triple shift, at the station with the increased attacks caused by an unknown source. Stiles knew the source, but he was certain that telling his dad a pack of werewolves lived in Beacon Hills and a transient pack of alphas had come to coerce the resident alpha to join them by slaughtering his own pack, would result in his dad calling his ADD Consultant to increase the dosage.

Stiles did not mind being on his own, especially on nights like this, it would be helpful not to have the questioning glance of his dad on him when he pulled on full pyjamas, on a midsummer night, to cover his battered body. Now he could strip down and enjoy the caress of cool air that came through the window of his bedroom.

Slipping out of his clothes, leaving just his boxers on, Stiles got comfy in his office chair and waggled the mouse. The laptop buzzed back into life to bring him back to the web page he had been consulting before the call from Derek to get his ass over their to discuss what each of them had found. It was research, he argued with himself, he did need to know about the mating behaviour of wolves in case the alpha pack decided to get frisky. It was certainly nothing to do with the emotionally complicated Alpha living just a few miles from him, the one who he had just walked out on, the one who had marked him.

He brushed his fingertips over the shallow gouges caused by the hint of Derek's claws and winced as the flesh was tender to the touch. It began to arouse him, knowing that these marks would be on his flesh for a few days, possibly a week, maybe more if he didn't look after them.

He allowed his hand to slide across the cuts again, enjoying the sting of pain which made his cock throb with excitement. He imagined Derek there pinning him against the chair, folding his claws deep into his flesh. His breath quickened as he imagined the Alpha leaning in close to his neck and breathing in his scent, the memory of Derek's body heat completing the illusion of the fantasy now tentatively stroking, exploring, tugging on his body to raise him to a full stand.

The hands were his own, he knew this logically of course, but his imagination caused his hands to feel heavier on his flesh and his stump fingernails felt like the claws gently grazing. He stretched his body out to half sitting, half lying on his chair as his hands began to move down his chest. Curling his fingers to allow their nails to brush softly at first before dragging them across his stomach. He arched to the touch and allowed the gasp to escape his open mouth.

He focused on the imagined eyes, that had bored into him on previous occasions, staring hard as the Alpha's hand tickled down the soft hair which created the path of his treasure trail. The Alpha was obviously lustful as the hand dived quickly into his boxers and squeezed the now raging erection.

"Please," he begged in a hushed whisper to the mirage. "I need it."

With that the strong hand began to pump his pre-cum leaking cock in a blissfully sweet but painfully slow pace, he toyed with the younger man. He liked to make Stiles moan and buck and plead. The hand around his cock picked up pace at his thoughts yet all too soon it slowed once again.

His body began to shake with pleasure, twitch with the desire to come, as he squeezed his eyes tight shut ensuring the image of Derek to strengthen. The body of the older man was heavenly and hellish, it brought a new moan to Stiles' mouth as he watched him stripping off his shirt to reveal the wide expanse of muscle, toned and hard.

"Touch yourself" he commanded and was relieved as his lust controlled Derek's hand to slide over his body as the fingers of his other hand pulled at the zip of his jeans. Stiles squeezed his own hand around his cock again, causing yet another moan, as the image pushed a hand under the material and began moving. Stiles could only guess to the movements of this hand on the concealed dick but, by the way Derek's body was rolling his hips, the touch was welcome. He could hear the hiss of breath rushing through the currently human teeth, gritted against each other to disallow any other sounds to escape.

Stiles wanted to hear him moan, wanted to hear his name formed by his lust-focussed creation, but the image was so intense that he allowed it to play out as he began to work his hand harder on his aching cock. His balls felt tight but he refused to come yet, he wanted to keep Derek working on his own body as each hidden stroke caused his body to respond. He could hear that his mouth had slipped into dirty talk, it was further arousing to hear himself loose control so absolutely that his mind just pumped out the words.

"Fuck... yeah, that's good. Oh fuck, yeah... Keep going, oh god you're hot! I want you, want you to fuck me... Want you to suck me. Yeah, you like it. Fuck."

Thankful that no one was around as he didn't think at this point he could stop the tirade of filth coming from his mouth.

"Oh fuck yeah... Stroke your dick, yeah! Faster... God, harder!"

He could feel the tingle in his body, unmistakable as his balls began to tighten further. He knew he was close and was not willing to hold back any more. He arched his back, working himself in time with the vision, running his free hand across the marks on his flesh and that was it.

Stiles came with the feel of pain caused by Derek, the scent of him still staining the flesh. It pushed him further into ecstasy until there was nothing but Derek's face, feel, smell, the pulsing of his own cock as the cum spilled out of him over his stomach until he flopped back into the chair.

He half lay there, his eyes half open, lost in the world of his orgasm as he continued the gentle pulls on his spent cock eking out the feeling. His heart was hamering against his rib cage and his breath was short and shallow bursts but he was in bliss.

The born-wolf had seen it all, had watched the young man tease and torment his body with the wolfs name on his lips. He was there to apologise but Stiles seemed to be getting off harder from the cuts in his body. It took all his restraint for him not to smash through the window, show him what carefully applied pain could do to further heighten the young man's experience. But this was a personal moment between Stiles and his imagination but it gave Derek images for his own use later that night.

He smirked at that before slipping off the siding of the Stalinski house and running into the darkness of the forest behind. He needed to think, he needed to plan. It was not his place to approach Stiles, he was 3 months under-age and much younger than Derek, but if those were his fantasies Derek would certainly give him enough to play with. With that, the half smile was unmistakeably feral as he vanished into the night.