Stiles lay on the bed as Derek nipped and kissed a trail down Stile's body. It was the full moon, but neither boy cared because their passion for each other was overwhelming, and they were confident in Derek's anchor, his ability to control his wolf. Stiles undulated underneath Derek's tame roughness, whimpering for more and more.
Derek reached the hem of Stiles' boxers and Stiles lost control of himself as Derek began to pull them down and wrap his lips around Stiles' throbbing erection. Stiles began to buck up more frequently as Derek proceeded to prep Stiles. Derek didn't get past one finger however. One glance up at Stile, in complete and utter ecstasy, bathed in the pale moonlight, and Derek lost control of himself as well. Stiles' sporadic moans and gasps of pleasure quickly shifted to winces and eventually yelps of pain as Derek entered his thick, muscular wolf cock into Stiles.
Stiles' eyes shot open to see a wolfed out Derek, eyes glowing red, teeth barred, and muttonchops straight from the 19th century.
"D-Derek! It hurts!" Stiles uttered as he began to try to back up against his headboard, feeling every thrust pain severely, like Derek's dick was a bony fist.
When Stiles finally slipped away from Derek, Derek came down from his wolf. He shook his head to see a scared and hurt Stiles, panting hard and staring at him with total concern and confusion. Derek looked at his palms to see his claws retract before looking back up at Stiles.
"Stiles—Jesus Christ I'm so sorry…I…." Derek's voice trailed off, his countenance quickly easing into a miserable state. He was mortified with himself for losing control of his anchor.
The anger he kept to fester within him had always being constant, keeping him grounded. It failed him tonight however. This scared him greatly. He wanted to know he could stay in control during the full moon, especially around Stiles, his mate, and he just did the worst thing he could possibly imagine doing to the boy: harming him when he wanted to be so close to him.
Stiles slowly positioned himself on his knees and moved towards Derek over the bed, wincing slightly from the pain of their curtailed intercourse. He then held him by the shoulders.
"It's okay. You lost control. I…understand," Stiles consoled reluctantly.
"You don't sound like you mean it," Derek accused, more so at himself.
"Well it's because I'm confused. You're always in control." Stiles rolled back to sit on the bed to talk more casually with Derek. He pulled the covers over his lap before talking. "You're my rock, which I don't mean to sound like something you need to aspire to, Stiles quickly qualified as Derek too sat on the bed, not caring that his naked body was exposed. "We've never had sex on a full moon, so maybe it's just…something to avoid," he shrugged.
"No," Derek interjected suddenly. "I know how to control my wolf, even on the full moon…I just lost grips on my anchor."
"The thing you think about that keeps you together," Stiles said, not even needing to ask.
"Exactly. For so long it's…it's been anger." Stiles looked at Derek with new curiosity as he spoke. "And tonight, just now, I lost it."
Stiles looked at Derek for a while, waiting for the man to continue before speaking. "Maybe you need a new anchor," he said sagely.
Derek looked up at him skeptically, but Stiles continued. "People change," he said simply, "and you've certainly changed so much since we've started seeing each other, beyond just going around, fighting the Kanima and the hunters. Even though things are still pretty complicated, you may need a new anchor."
Derek nodded his head in understand, keeping his stare down. "Or I could just be totally wrong," Stiles admitted, throwing his hands up comically before laying down, prompting subtly that Derek be with him.
"No, Stiles, I think you're right." Derek crawled next to Stile's side before speaking; Stiles turned to lay on his back so he could watch the man speak. "I have changed so much. Before I wolfed out, I thought I was in total control. Then I looked at you." Stiles smiled shyly and hoped Derek's shadow over him concealed his blushing.
"I looked at you, and then I just couldn't hold on to all that anger. None of it mattered, all because I was with you." In that moment Derek realized that his anchor of anger was no longer useful to him, because now he had an anchor that was so special to him that nothing else could keep him more down to Earth. That anchor was a boy named Stiles.
Stiles broke through the silence a moment later, still laying down. "So what does that mean, Derek?" He began to caress Derek's thigh, signalling his desire for Derek to lay with him.
"It…it's nothing. I just know that we're going to be good from now on." He kissed Stiles on the cheek before slipping under the covers, holding the boy close to him.
A moment passed before Stiles chimed in. "You may be good tomorrow, but I'm gonna be feeling something awful."
"Shut up, Stiles," Derek said, with an inconspicuous smile. He knew he was right anyways.