Dealing With the Consequences

Disclaimer: I do not own Teen Wolf or any of its characters.

WARNING: THIS FANFICTION CONTAINS SPOILERS UP TO SEASON 3 EPISODE 6!

Three virgins had died a three-fold death.

Then, three soldiers had died a three-fold death.

Most recently, three werewolves had almost committed suicide. That didn't exactly fit the pattern a of slit throat, head bashed in, and being strangled on a tree, but Stiles figured that the Darach could still inflict those wounds post-mortem.

But none of those things were really what had Stiles worried at the moment. Of course, it was absolutely horrible that six people had been murdered and that three had almost been forced to commit suicide. And Stiles was still doing his best to find a pattern beyond just three people suffering three-fold deaths each time the Darach decided to kill. But the combination virgins, soldiers, and werewolves wasn't exactly illuminating in the way of finding new patterns. And with the lack of details needed to work out this latest supernatural problem, Stiles's mind was left to wander to other things. Well, one thing really. Something he couldn't stop thinking about no matter how he tried.

The thing Stiles couldn't stop thinking about was the fact that he was no longer a virgin, who he had lost his virginity to, why he had lost it in the first place, and how a single panicked decision had changed his life forever. Before Kyle had died and broken the pattern of only virgins being chosen as a human sacrifice, Stiles had gone to Derek Hale, of all people, and begged the Alpha werewolf to have sex with him, and for reasons that Derek had not revealed to the then virgin Stiles, the werewolf had agreed.

So, they did the deed, and Stiles had left, comforted with the knowledge that he was no longer on the list of possible candidates to be chosen as a human sacrifice. It had been one of the best and most terrifying nights of his life. Derek had warned him it would be painful, and it was. But more than that, Stiles had felt more pleasure in that short time with Derek than he had in his entire life. Maybe it was because his relationship with Kate Argent had been a complete and total disaster. Maybe it was because he thought Stiles deserved something in return for having to give up something so important just to have one less supernatural threat hanging over his head. Whatever the reason, Derek had been very thorough in his devirginizing of Stiles. The teenager had been licked, nibbled, and sucked over every inch of his body – reduced to a quivering, whimpering mass of nerves, and then, Derek had given him a handjob, a blowjob, and rimmed him before he even began prepping the teen's virgin hole with lube-covered fingers. Despite the reasons surrounding his first sexual experience with another person…with Derek, Stiles had never felt so wanted.

When they had finished, Derek pulled out of Stiles, and instead of making Stiles leave like the teen had expected, the werewolf had remained silent, rolled over, relaxed into the sheets next to Stiles, gathered the teen into his arms, and soon fell asleep as he cuddled the teen in his arms. The next morning had been awkward, but they got through it. And Derek didn't bother to do so much as hint that the sex had meant anything more than saving Stiles's life. For that, Stiles was extraordinarily grateful. They didn't love each other. Hell, most times they didn't even like each other. But last night had proved, beyond a doubt, that they cared about each other. Maybe it had even proved that they trusted each other.

Unfortunately, as time passed, their investigations had proved that Stiles having sex was entirely unnecessary. In fact, losing his virginity no more protected him from becoming a human sacrifice than his wearing flannel did. Moreover, based on what the next groupings for human sacrifices were, it might have put him more at risk. However, that really wasn't what kept him awake late into the night, thinking about how his life just continued to get more fucked up every time he got involved with something supernatural. Neither was the fact that he had lost his virginity to someone he didn't love bothering him. After all, Stiles was about to have sex with Heather before she was brutally murdered, and as much as he cared about her, Stiles hadn't been in love with her.

So, yeah, the loss of his v-card wasn't that big a deal, especially since he'd probably had one of the best first times since the beginning of forever. Not to mention, Stiles had lost it to someone with the physique of a Greek God. Furthermore, he got to lose his virginity to someone he truly cared about and who cared about him in return; that was a lot more than some people could say – people like Derek.

No, his problem was the dealing with the aftermath of having sex with Derek. It hadn't happened right away, but it had happened very quickly. Soon after he had had sex with Derek, Stiles's feelings had taken a drastic turn. Since he had already half-given up on Lydia, he should have been prepared for the result that having sex with someone else would make him completely give up, but he hadn't even considered it. So now, every single romantic feeling he'd ever had for Lydia was dead – well, maybe not dead exactly. Rather, it was more like they had been freed from their connection to her and reattached themselves to Derek. And that just really, really sucked.

Because Stiles was now in love with Derek freaking Hale. And his feelings for Derek were stronger than they had ever been for Lydia, because as much as he pined, Stiles knew he had never had any sort of chance with her. On the other hand, Derek had already proven that he honestly cared for Stiles. As annoying, as fragile, as sarcastic, as jumpy, and everything else that made Stiles the nerdy sidekick who was completely unfit for the hero role – Derek honestly cared for Stiles. More than that, they were physically compatible in the best of ways. And both of those things were important fundamentals in any romantic relationship. Those things made Stiles hope. Those things meant Stiles was screwed.

Then, before Stiles could even think about discussing his newly developed feelings with the Alpha, Derek goes and gets himself killed in some demented attempt to get one up on the Alpha pack. Worst of all, Stiles hadn't even been there when it happened. Regardless of whether or not his presence would have made a difference, the teen hadn't even been given a chance to try and help – discounted as possible aide in a physical fight just because he couldn't sprout claws, fangs, extra fur, and glowing eyes. Just because he was human. That really hurt. Like gouging out your eyes and ripping out your beating heart hurt. But he couldn't do anything about his feelings. Couldn't vent to the object of his frustrations. Because Derek was dead.

Stiles had wanted to break down when he heard that the man he loved was dead. It was worse, far, far worse than when he had been worried that Lydia might die. This was so much more serious. This was so much more permanent. But he hadn't broken down. Because Scott had needed him. Scott, his best friend, who had almost killed himself twice: once by not allowing himself to heal and once by trying to set himself on freaking fire. The only reason Scott was still breathing was because Stiles had jumped into the line of fire, horrible pun completely and totally intended. Because that's how stupid the whole situation was. It was as stupid as that pun. It was not Scott's fault that Derek was dead, and Stiles refused to lose another person he loved because they had an entirely misguided and intensely fucked up sense of responsibility.

And then, all of the broken-hearted, completely crushing, almost suicidal angst that he had felt to the very depths of his soul and had had to hide from pretty much everyone was all for nothing. Because they had been told by Ethan, one of their godforsaken Alpha enemies, that Derek fucking Hale was probably alive. Of course, that pretty much meant that Derek was alive and hadn't fucking bothered to let anyone know. Here they are going through Hell because they all think there's no possible way he survived, and he couldn't even send a text to a single one of them so that they knew he was still breathing.

Stiles was seething with anger as soon as he found that out; he was more pissed off than he'd been in his entire life. Even more livid that the time he'd held the bastard's head above water for two freaking hours for no other reason than to keep the damn, ungrateful Alpha alive, and Derek still couldn't believe that someone might actually care about him, could only believe Stiles was helping him with some ulterior motive. But they were passed that incident by now. And as angry, pissed off, livid, and furious as he was, the relief Stiles felt drowned all that out in one giant crashing wave. The man he loved was still alive. No matter how or why it had happened, Derek was alive. The anger was nothing compared to the relief, the pure, unadulterated joy he felt at that news.

Stiles hated himself for that.

Still, when they had finally returned to Beacon Hills after finding out the meet had been canceled, Stiles had never, in all his life, been so grateful to see the school grounds. As soon as the bus stopped, he didn't even bother to say good-bye to anybody or ask Scott if he needed a ride. Stiles had raced out of the bus, jumped into his jeep, and drove to Derek's loft as fast as his old, beat up baby could take him.

However, the sight that awaited him once he reached the loft brought the rage roaring back as the relief turned sour in his stomach. He'd been fighting to prevent werewolf suicides for two whole days, fighting to keep his head on straight, fighting to keep from drowning in the dark well of depression, fighting to keep the pack from fucking falling apart and Derek had, not only, decided to not bother informing them of his very much living state; he had been getting laid while the rest of them were fighting for their lives.

And Stiles would be lying if he said that Derek having sex with someone else didn't tear him in two, but that was far from the only reason Stiles was so pissed at Derek. After all, Derek had made it clear that them having sex was a one-time thing, and any other time, Stiles would have tried to be happy for the Alpha for finally moving on from the cancer that was Kate Argent. But it wasn't any other time, or any other day. It was this day. Two days after Scott had almost died because he thought Derek was dead. The day after three of Derek's betas and an Alpha had almost killed themselves because they were the next ones on the Darach's hit list. This was the day that Stiles found Derek and Ms. Blake, the English teacher, naked in bed together, and Derek was looking as healthy as could be.

The human teenager stared in silence at the scene before him for several minutes, unsure of how he should react and wondering if he should even alert them to his presence at all. After all, they were both still asleep on the bed…Derek's bed…the bed where Stiles had lost his virginity. No, he wasn't thinking about that. Except, apparently he was, because a growl of anger, jealousy, pain, and the million other things that Stiles was feeling escaped from his throat before he could stop it, before he was even aware it was coming.

Derek sat up in bed instantly, looking around in a slight panic until he saw Stiles. And how sad was it that Stiles understood why he'd been worried? How sad was it that Stiles knew that Derek had panicked at the thought that a threat had been able to sneak up on him while he was asleep? Except Stiles wasn't a threat. Stiles was able to slip under his radar because Derek trusted him. Although, obviously, Derek didn't trust Stiles enough to let him know that he was still fucking breathing.

Derek's movement had disturbed Ms. Blake's sleep, and now, she was sitting up, unaware of the fact that she and Derek now had company. Entirely uninterested in seeing what his English teacher looked like naked, Stiles averted his gaze and coughed into his hand so she would know he was there. He could sense the tension in the air when she noticed him, could feel her eyes on him, and could hear the sheets rustling as she raced to cover herself.

"Uh," Jennifer started speaking, unable to stand the silence even if she didn't know what to say. "Mr. Stillinski, I wasn't expecting to see you here."

"Well," Stiles said in a voice as polite as he could make it while still avoiding looking at her. "Derek and I are friends, or at least, I thought we were. And when I heard that he is actually not dead, I wanted to see for myself."

"Oh," Ms. Blake replied in a tone that was even more lost and confused than when she first spoke, sensing that saying much more would be opening up a can of worms she wasn't ready for. After tumbling around in the sheets for a bit, she emerged somewhat clothed and started for the door. She paused halfway there to look back at Derek, as though hoping he was going to stop her from leaving, but Derek didn't even look at her. His eyes were locked on Stiles, an unreadable expression on his face. After a few moments of extremely tense silence and stillness, the English teacher heaved a sigh and continued to the door.

"Mr. Stillinski, I expect a three-page essay on hubris in The Odyssey," Ms. Blake said just as she was leaving. "Due tomorrow. On my desk. Before the bell rings."

"Huh?" Stiles said unintelligently as he looked at Jennifer for the first time since she had woken up.

"I'm not so foolish as to expect to see you in class today," his English teacher said, meeting his gaze. Her mouth was turned downward in a frown, but the rest of her expression spoke of resignation. "Have the essay ready for me tomorrow."

With that said, she walked away, leaving the two men alone in a room so thick with tension it was palpable. Supremely uncomfortable silence fell between them as neither spoke, because neither was sure what they wanted to say.

"Why?" Stiles finally managed to force out. And once that came out, everything started to. "Why didn't you tell us you were okay? I could understand not letting us know you were alive if you were still on death's door, but you were perfectly fine. I mean, here you are getting laid while the rest of us are fighting for our lives. I thought I knew you. You and your insane need to be responsible for everyone's safety that's a bit different than Scott's but just as strong, if not stronger…"

He was just getting started. He would have kept going, but then, he was being pulled into Derek's arms, which was so surprising that he instantly fell silent. Stiles was used to being pushed into walls, threatened with bodily harm, and violently slammed into steering wheels. He was completely unprepared for being gently pulled into a warm, comforting hug. Despite Stiles's sudden silence, Derek still placed one finger on the teen's lips to keep him silent. A single finger so that Stiles knew he didn't want to force him but also knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that Derek wanted him to stay quiet.

"I wasn't okay until this morning," Derek said softly in a tone so rife with guilt that it broke Stiles's heart. "And I don't think I'll be okay until you tell me what you meant by fighting for your life, but we can talk about that later. This…what I want to…more important." He paused, sighed, and began talking again. "I wasn't healing. Wasn't allowing myself to heal. Everyone already thought I was dead, so why should I stay alive when all I ever do is cause everyone around me to get hurt? Why should I tell anyone I'm alive when I'm going to die soon anyway?"

Stiles let out a desperate sort of whine when he heard those words, but he didn't say anything. He had this feeling that it would be so much harder for Derek to start talking again if he was forced to stop, and the teen didn't want to be the cause of that. Not when Derek was finally, finally starting to open up. So, Stiles had to be content to stand there and listen as tears silently streamed down his face. Because no matter how painful this was to hear, he still needed to hear it, just as much as Derek needed to say it.

"But not all of me felt that way," Derek continued, his arm tightening around Stiles waist as he watched the silent tears. "Not all of me wanted to die, and that part was just a bit stronger. Just strong enough to search for someone to help but not strong enough to reach out for someone specific. So, I went to your school, and Jennifer was the first person I found. She was there, and she was warm. She helped pull me back from the edge. We had sex, but it was because I was desperate for someone, anyone, to hold me like I mattered and tell me I was worth something. That's all it was. She was there, and she was willing. It didn't mean anything more than that."

Derek sounded almost desperate now, like he was working up to something monumentally important but still didn't have the courage to say what needed to be said. And Stiles knew exactly where he hoped Derek's words were leading. And he couldn't help but hope with everything he was that Derek's words were leading to a place that allowed Stiles to love him. It didn't even have to be openly. The teen was well aware of what could happen if it got out that 24-year-old Derek Hale was in a relationship with the still very much a minor 17-year-old Stiles Stillinski. Stiles just wanted to be able to be with Derek and know that the werewolf wouldn't be looking at anyone else. Because he knew Derek would never cheat on him if they were together, no matter how secret their relationship. Derek knew what it was like to be hurt and betrayed in the worst of ways, and he was the type of man who could never do that to someone else.

What Derek had done with Jennifer, yes, that hurt like hell. But it wasn't cheating, because Derek had made it clear that he and Stiles weren't together. Had pretty much guaranteed that he and Stiles would never be involved in a relationship of that sort. So, the Alpha had been free to sleep with anyone he chose to.

"I wanted to go looking for you. Wanted to be able to find the strength to find you more than anything. But I'm weak. I've always been weak. Ever since Kate… I know, Stiles. I know you're nothing like her. You're warm. Kind. Loyal. Giving. You are everything she could never hope to be. But I was weak. I was afraid. I still am…but, I can't pretend anymore."

The tears on Stiles's face had slowed to a trickle, but now, his breathing was shallow and uneven. He was hoping so hard. Hoping so much. His brain was telling him that his heart was right, but Derek had to say the words. He needed Derek to say the words. If Derek didn't, well, Stiles was sure he would break. And this time, the teen wasn't sure there was anything that could help put him back together.

"I thought I would be okay without it. I thought I could survive without having you, without making an absolute claim on you. At least, I thought I could live for a few more years before asking you to make the decision. I don't want to hold you back or tie you down. But I need something more than temporary. I need something more than in the moment desperation. I need something permanent. I need someone to love me – someone who has seen me at my worst and knows the horrors of my past. I need something real. I need you Stiles."

He finally removed his finger from Stiles lips to let the teen know he could speak now, to let the teen know that Derek wanted him to speak now. Both of the werewolf's arms were now resting around Stiles's waist; they were shaking, a physical motion to match the blatant desperation in Derek's expression. Stiles finally had permission to talk, but he didn't know what to say.

"You don't have to give me a final answer now," the Alpha said when he couldn't stand the silence any longer. "You don't have to tie yourself to me right this moment. But I have to know if there is a chance. Or have I already ruined everything because I'm too weak? Is there any chance at all that someday you'll let me claim you as mine forever? Will you let me have that chance?"

"You don't need that chance," Stiles finally managed to say something, unable to stand Derek's look and tone of hopeless desperation for even one moment longer, but the words basically turned the werewolf into an iron wall of emotional unresponsiveness. It was like his whole body had been possessed by the worst kind of poker face. Stiles felt Derek's arms slowly start to pull away, but he didn't let that happen. The teen stepped further into the embrace so their chests were touching, laid his head on Derek's shoulder, and wrapped his arms around the werewolf's neck, one hand reaching up to bury itself in surprisingly soft black hair.

"Because you already have all of me," Stiles whispered softly, heart hammering in his chest, but the werewolf heard his words, knew from the steady, if faster than normal, sound of his heartbeat that the words were true. "I love you. There was always something there, and it just exploded after we had sex. I couldn't stop it, didn't really want to stop it. And it's forever; I know it is. But I was afraid that you wouldn't ever look at me like that. I was afraid that even if you could move past Kate Argent, it wouldn't be with me."

"I'm still not entirely over what she did to me," Derek whispered back just as softly, and nothing else was said. But Stiles didn't need to hear it. He knew Derek: knew that Derek was feeling just as relieved and happy as he was that their feelings were mutual, knew that Derek wanted to move on from Kate Argent, and knew that Derek wanted Stiles to be the person who helped him.

Derek had never been a man of many words, and Stiles wasn't expecting the Alpha to all of a sudden turn into a broody version of himself (in other words, someone who never shut up) just because Derek had spoken so much after finally deciding to open up to someone…deciding to open up to Stiles. But that was okay, because Stiles, despite popular belief, could be patient and would wait for those times when Derek wanted or needed to talk.

So, when Derek pulled away just a tiny bit, gently removed Stiles's head from his shoulder, and pressed his lips to the teen's in a way that told just how afraid of rejection he was, Stiles didn't refuse him. In fact, he threw himself into the kiss, pouring as much passion, love, and desire into it as he could. When the two pulled apart a few minutes later due to the need to breathe, Derek actually shuddered in relief as he pulled Stiles toward the bed.

Derek never actually said the words, "I love you." that day, but Stiles didn't need to hear them. He knew exactly how the Alpha felt when he woke up late in the afternoon, naked and in the arms of the one he loved. They were in the same bed that Derek had taken Jennifer, but even if that knowledge would always hurt, it didn't matter anymore. Because Stiles was the only one who would ever get to share it with Derek ever again.

"Stay," Derek had said as soon as he had sensed that the teenager in his arms had awoken. It wasn't a command; it was an earnest and heartfelt plea.

"Of course," Stiles muttered sleepily, happily while snuggling deeper into Derek's embrace. "For how long?"

"Forever," Derek responded, and that was all it took. Derek was a man of very few words, but those two words had told Stiles just how much Derek loved him, wanted him, and needed him. And just like Stiles didn't always need words to understand Derek, Derek didn't always need words either. So when Stiles just hummed sleepily and reached down to twine their hands together, Derek knew that Stiles was telling him that he would; he would stay forever.

Things weren't perfect. In fact, they were about as far from perfect as they could be. The Darach was still at large, killing innocent people – maybe as a sacrifice to gain power in some quickly approaching supernatural war. Duecalion still wanted Derek to kill his pack or be killed by the pack of Alphas. Stiles and Derek had more relationship issues to work on than there were stars in the sky. Derek had pack issues, social issues, family issues, and just about every other kind of issue that existed to work on period.

But it was a start. Derek had opened up. Stiles had found a safe place to float in the sea of turbulent emotions that he felt for his new…lover? boyfriend?...his Derek. Most importantly, they had each other. And they could work through whatever came their way together. Stiles had no doubts that they would still drive each other crazy and want to kill each other half the time. But that was okay, because the things about Derek that made him crazy were a part of who Derek was. And Stiles loved Derek just as he was, loved him enough to accept all of his damage and baggage and flaws. Derek would never be perfect, and neither would Stiles. But neither of them wanted perfect. They only wanted something real, and finally, they both had exactly that.

A/N: Hello and welcome to the end of Dealing With the Consequences. I hope you enjoyed reading it. I had tons of fun writing it. This one shot turned out a hell of a lot different than I planned, but that's okay. Because I absolutely love how it worked out in the end. More than that, I managed to keep it a one-shot, which is a freaking miracle. This is my first Sterek fic, but it's definitely not my last. They're just too perfect together to not be written. I definitely have a new OTP.

Also, I would really love for someone to seriously critique my work. It doesn't have to stop at constructive criticism. I'd love for someone to really pick apart my work and tell me every little thing they hated, what needs to be improved, and what parts of my writing they liked best. Believe me when I say I love all reviews, and it's really nice to know people appreciate my work. However, I'm a far cry from being perfect, and there's always room to improve. Also, if I can get better, I can give better fan fiction to my readers. Anyway, thanks again for reading this fan fiction and hopefully you seriously considered my request.