Ok, I had actually hoped to get this posted last night, but for some reason FFnet was being a huge pain in the ass. This will have everything caught up to AO3 and I will update both sites as I write.

There's already some lovely reviews and several favorites on this, and I appreciate you all so much! This is my first TW fic and I hope everyone continues to enjoy it.


Maksym Stilinski sat on his bed, deep in thought. In his hands he held the braided soft leather collar that had belonged to Angelique. His beloved submissive, his wife, the mother of his son. His best friend. The pain of losing her had never gone away, though it had tempered with time until for the most part it was a dull ache in his bones rather than the razor sharp agony that would still at times rear its ugly head.

How he wished she were here now. He needed her, needed her calming presence, needed her quiet wisdom. As he sat there alone, waiting for Stiles to come home so he could talk to him about one of the most important and most difficult decisions he had ever had to make, he cursed, not for the first time, the illness that took her from him.

Maks had met Angie his sophomore year of college. He was at Sacramento State studying criminal justice with dreams of possibly becoming a vice officer in LA one day. She had been a dance and theater major, hoping to one day open her own studio. Their first meeting had been at the library. Maks had seen her standing on tiptoes, trying to get to a book she needed from a shelf that was just out of her reach, and he had retrieved it for her. They had both been in provisional claims at the time, but Maks couldn't help but admire the honey colored eyes that had sparkled with so much personality as she smiled and thanked him for his help. He sometimes saw her around campus after that, usually in the company of the guy who was apparently her Dom. She always had a friendly smile and wave for him, while her Dom regarded him suspiciously and put an arm around her possessively.

Several months later, they ran into each other again, this time at a small bar not far from campus. He had been there with a few of his buddies, playing pool and having a few drinks. She came in with a group of giggling girlfriends. It turned out she and her Dom had ended their claim; he was overly possessive of her to the point of trying to control her life completely, which violated their contract. Angie had known things were going sour when he began telling her who she could hang out with and trying to make her change her major in school to something more "appropriate." When he began accusing her of being a dancer just to entice other Dominants, she knew she had to end the claim. Her girlfriends had drug her to the bar that night to both cheer her up and celebrate her new freedom.

Maks had recently ended his claim as well. He had been content enough with his submissive, but the same wasn't true for her. Although Maks had earned a scholarship, it didn't cover all his schooling expenses. He didn't want to take out loans and end up starting life after school in debt, so he worked two jobs to pay the remainder of tuition fees and be able to live off of, as well as being a full time student. Between work, classes, and studying, he was often tired and didn't always have much time for her. He knew that he wasn't always meeting her needs; he could feel it in his own dominant nature when it had not been tended to, the prickling unease that happened when he didn't exert his domination and gain submission in return. Things had come to a head, though, the night he came home early when class got cancelled and found his submissive in their bed being spanked by another Dom. While two Doms could certainly share a submissive if it were contracted, Maks had never agreed to it, and it was a direct violation of their contract. There had been a loud argument that culminated in her stripping his cuff off her wrist and throwing it at him, screaming that she was leaving and would be back for her things. He had torn up their contract that night and then called his best friend, who showed up with movies, booze, and the assurance that it wasn't all his fault.

Still, Maks felt guilty because he felt like he had failed his submissive by not tending to her needs and making her search for fulfillment outside of their claim. She hadn't even trusted him enough to come to him and talk to him about it. He was within rights to lodge a complaint against the other Dom, since interference in a claim fell under jurisdiction of the magistrate, but he decided it was hardly worth it. The damage had been done and there was no sense pursuing a claim that very clearly wasn't working. Maks was a little leery of taking on a new submissive while he was still in school, worried that the same thing would happen. He had been able to keep himself in control and had not had to visit a Sub Club thus far, though he knew if it came down to it, he would have no choice.

Talking to Angie that night had been like a breath of fresh air. Her amazing eyes had sparkled with life and her smile had captivated him. Their friends had seen what was happening and melted into the background, giving them ample space to get to know each other. They had exchanged phone numbers that night. Two and a half years later, newly graduated Maksym moved to the small city of Beacon Hills with Angie, now collared and heavily pregnant. He joined the sheriff's department as a fresh faced young deputy, having given up the idea of working vice in the big city without regret the night he had arrived home to Angie, kneeling by the door with a tearful smile of joy and test results from the doctor's office that confirmed they were going to be parents.

Their son had been born on a rainy day in April. He had come into the world screaming, waving his arms and kicking his feet wildly. When a nurse had thrust the wriggling bundle into his arms, Maks had just stared at him in awe, unable to believe he had a part in something so exquisitely perfect. He had dropped to his knees at the bedside, much to Angie's discomfited amusement, and had kissed her tenderly, whispering words of praise and love to the woman who had just presented him with a beautiful son. They named him Aurélien, meaning "golden," after her father. When the blood test returned indicating their son was a submissive, Angie had cuddled him close and declared that she was the luckiest woman in the world, to have such a loving Dom and her own little submissive to raise and adore.

God, he had loved her so much. Losing her had been a blow he still hadn't recovered from. Not a day went by that his soul didn't weep for her, didn't call for its missing half. Stiles was so much like her, the same gorgeous eyes and full mouth, the same joie de vivre. Angie had loved both of them with every fiber of her being. She had been an incredible mother, always patient and loving. When Stiles had been a baby she had laughingly nicknamed him Ptaszek, which meant little bird, because he was always open mouthed and hungry. As he grew, she deemed the nickname still appropriate, since he chattered constantly. She understood Stiles in ways that his Dominant father sometimes couldn't. The two of them had been thick as thieves, and her illness had definitely taken its toll on Stiles. He had become nervous and withdrawn, prone to anxiety and panic attacks. When Angie passed away, Maks had nearly lost his mind with grief. He would forever be grateful to the Martins for helping so much with Stiles during that time, because he had been adrift without her to anchor him, barely able take care of himself, much less his frightened young son who was also grieving.

Angie's death had marked a significant change in Stiles as well. He had come to him after her funeral and dropped to his knees, lips quivering with unreleased sobs but determined to make a request of his Dom father. He had asked at that time to no longer be called Ptaszek and to be able to go by his school nickname of Stiles, rather than Aurélien. Maks understood his son's need to keep those links to his mother separate and private, and gave his consent. When Stiles selected a bird for his tattoo when he reached his maturity, Maks had been an emotional mess internally, though he had allowed only fierce paternal pride to be displayed.

He had known this day would come, the day where he would have to let his son go. In that moment, he missed Angie more than ever. They were supposed to do this together; watch with pride as their boy left them and entered into his first claim, and then weep over it in private, that their baby boy had grown into such a young man and was starting a life that didn't fully include them.

Having Peter Hale request his presence at his home a few weeks ago was unusual. Maks had been more than a little curious about the 'urgent matter' that required his assistance, especially when it was emphasized that it wasn't in his capacity as Sheriff. He had gone to the Hale estate in his own vehicle and dressed in street clothes. The door had been answered by a service submissive that had ushered him into Peter's private study, where the Alpha had been waiting for him.

Maks had assumed that Peter's purpose in calling him had something to do with Stiles, either with his schooling or some sort of disciplinary problem. There had already been an eventful conference with Dom Finstock over a term paper Stiles had done about achieving subspace while being bound and blindfolded. By Finstock's own admission, the paper was brilliant and well written. However, the assignment was for English class and had been to write about the symbolism in To Kill A Mockingbird, and Stiles had started off writing that justice was supposed to be blind and devolved from there. He had steeled himself for another such conversation, but it turned out Peter wanted to talk to him about Stiles for reasons he had never imagined even in his wildest speculations.

"My nephew is shortly to return home from New York, Sheriff Stilinski. I'm sure you remember Derek?"

Maks remembered vividly the night of the Hale fire, remembered watching helplessly as the flames licked high in the night sky, knowing there had been a family inside unable to get out. He had been there as paramedics had bundled a hysterically weeping Laura and Derek, dry-eyed with shock, into an ambulance to take them to the hospital.

Interviewing the teens afterward had been a harrowing job, especially when details came to light concerning young Derek and Kate Argent, daughter of Gerard Argent, prolific Hunter and werewolf hater. Kate was a Domme who was several years older than Derek and had used trickery and seduction to manipulate the un-tattooed boy into a clandestine relationship, all to learn details of the prominent Hale family in order to be able to destroy them.

Kate's arrest and trial had been full of scandal and intrigue. Only the combined efforts and money of the Hale and Argent families had kept it from becoming a nationwide media sensation. Maks had to testify his department's findings; that Kate, a mature Domme, had colored over her red tattoo with temporary black in order to appear as a submissive. She had enticed underage Derek by telling him she was afraid of her Dominant father and promised that as soon as he was tattooed he could claim her and they would be together. Using sex and empty assurances to play mind games with Derek, she was soon able to gather enough information about the Hales to carry out her murderous plan. She had coerced a young submissive named Matt Daehler into helping her, promising to claim him after he proved his worth to her but intending all along to implicate him to where he would ultimately take the fall. They had created a barrier of wolfsbane around the house that trapped the werewolves inside, but when it came to setting the house alight, Matt had second thoughts and balked. Kate ruthlessly pushed him aside and set the house on fire herself. Eight Hale family members had died in the resulting deadly fire and explosion; Laura and Derek had only survived because they'd been at school for a football game.

Matt, soon realizing that Kate had been playing him all along, had turned state's evidence for a lighter sentence and had testified against her. He had given details on her plan to bring down the Hale family for no reason other than blind hatred. Maks had watched Kate closely during the trial. She had sat there, looking almost bored most of the time, giving no indication of any sort of remorse. The only emotion she showed was a cold smile when photos of the crime scene were projected on the screen for the jury to see. It had chilled his blood.

When the jury returned with a guilty verdict, no one was surprised. The sentence of life in prison, which still seemed a bit light to many, considering the number of lives taken in cold blood, garnered cheers of approval from all except the small faction of extremist hunters that supported her actions.

Laura and Derek had been whisked away as soon as their testimonies were over, sent to New York to live under the protection of one of the large packs residing there and to get away from prying eyes and gossiping tongues. Laura had returned several months prior and had moved into Peter's large estate home. She'd soon begun working with him at the school, and Maks had heard she was being groomed as both the next Headmistress of the school and the next Alpha for whenever Peter decided to step aside.

"Of course I remember him. I hope he's doing well?" he asked Peter politely.

Peter had shaken his head. "I wish I could say he was, but sadly that isn't the case. He's still haunted by the past, I'm afraid, and has been reluctant to take on his own submissive."

Maks raised an eyebrow, wondering what exactly Peter was getting at. "I suppose that isn't too surprising, given what happened to him. That's not something one easily recovers from. Is he at risk of going feral?" That might explain why Peter wanted him aware that Derek was coming home. A human Dominant would suffer debilitating headaches if they neglected their nature, while a submissive would become ill to the point of painful cramping, nausea and hallucinations. For werewolves, it was even worse, as the wolf part of them would overtake their human side. A feral werewolf had to be dealt with swiftly and carefully.

"No, no, of course not." Peter looked horrified at the idea that a member of his family was not in control of themselves. "He at least had sense enough to go to Sub Clubs to tend to his needs. No, Maks, do you mind if I call you that?" At Maks' short nod, Peter continued, "I assure you, he is in no danger of going feral. That's not why I called you here at all."

Peter paused dramatically and Maks crossed his arms as he waited. After a moment, he grew impatient. "Well?" he demanded. "I know I'm here unofficially and off duty, but my time is valuable, Alpha Hale. I'd appreciate you getting to the point."

Instead of answering right away, Peter regarded him with a contemplative eye. Finally, just as Maks was about to demand Peter get to the point or else he was leaving, Peter abruptly changed the subject. "Your son doesn't have a Dominant." It was a statement, rather than a question.

"What does Stiles have to do with any of this?" Maks asked in confusion. He knew that as Headmaster of the school, Peter was fully aware that Stiles was as yet unclaimed.

Peter's eyes gleamed, a quick flash of red that was gone as quickly as it came. He smiled slowly and said, "I have a proposal for you. And please, call me Peter..."

At first Maks had met Peter's suggestion that Derek claim Stiles as his submissive with a sense of disbelief. Of all scenarios he had envisioned for Stiles entering his first claim, getting involved with a werewolf, much less a Hale and, even less, Derek Hale, had never crossed his mind. But the more he thought about it, the more he found himself actually rather liking the idea, much to his surprise. After all, he had no doubt that Stiles becoming part of the Alpha's household would afford him a certain amount of prestige among the citizens of Beacon Hill, not to mention the protection it would offer him. He could certainly do far worse for his first claim. After accidentally finding Stiles' porn folder on his computer, Maks had a feeling that Stiles was rather unlikely to object to a male Dom, not that it bothered him in the slightest. His main concern was what was best for his son.

Maks remembered well the vulnerable young wolf he had worked with in the aftermath of the fatal fire. No one deserved to have that happen to them. Derek Hale had been a good kid who had been caught up in a bad situation and dealt a devastating blow, and Maks wasn't in the least surprised that he was still struggling with the ramifications of his past.

The sound of the door slamming signaled Stiles' arrival home and brought Maks out of his deep thoughts. He replaced Angie's collar in the special box he'd had made for their first anniversary and put it back on the top shelf of his closet.

"Dad?"

"I'm up here, Stiles," Maks called back. The sound of Stiles' feet on the stairs grew louder as he neared the top. He looked at himself in the full-length mirror that hung on the inside of the closet door and took a deep breath. It was time.

The door burst open as Stiles breathlessly entered. "Hey, Dad, I wanted to-"

"Knees, Aurélien," Maks commanded quietly, motioning to a kneeling pillow he'd placed in the center of his bedroom. He watched silently as Stiles froze momentarily, his mouth open and his eyes widened in surprise before he hastened to obey. It was rare for him to make Stiles kneel for anything, rarer still for him to use his given name, but this was an important matter they needed to discuss.

"Is this about getting corner time in Dom Harris' class?" Stiles asked tentatively, "Because in my own defense, it was Scott's idea. I mean, it was my idea, but it was Scott's idea to try it in class and we-"

Maks held up a hand to indicate for Stiles to be quiet. "It isn't about that, Stiles, although I'm sure we'll be discussing that at a later time. I've spoken to Peter Hale and I-"

Stiles interrupted him. "Wait, Dad, about that, I wasn't trying to sass the Headmaster, honestly, it just slipped out, and Lydia was right there to reprimand me so if it's just the same-"

"Hold on, you're telling me you sassed the Alpha?" Maks had to fight to keep a grin from sneaking across his face. He had told Peter that, while it was true Stiles excelled at his submission classes, he was no shrinking submissive, ready to capitulate to just any Dominant.

A look of panic crossed Stiles' face. "Well, I-"

Maks shook his head and sighed. "Nevermind, Stiles. We'll talk about that later as well. Now," he said, letting command re-enter his voice, "I expect you to be quiet and let me speak. Don't say anything unless I ask you to. Nod if you understand."

When Stiles nodded his head, Maks smiled at him. "Good boy. As I was saying, I have spoken to Peter Hale recently. His nephew Derek is returning home from New York. I'm sure you don't remember, since you were young when it happened, but Derek lost most of his family in a terrible fire. He's been living in New York, but he has come back to work with his uncle."

Maks gave Stiles a significant look. "Now. I know you've been feeling a bit left out as of late with your friends, what with Lydia taking on her two submissives and Scott getting himself claimed by the Argent girl." Privately, Maks wondered if Peter had informed Derek that the niece of the woman convicted of murdering his family was not only enrolled as a student at the Academy, but also the Domme of one of Stiles' best friends. He had his suspicions that conversation might not have occurred yet and made a mental note to ask Peter about it. When that conversation happened, he wouldn't want Stiles anywhere near the vicinity.

"You haven't complained, but I know you, Stiles. It's tough when your friends are involved in things in their own lives that don't include you, especially when it seems you are the only one who doesn't have anything going on. But you've done well in school; I'm so proud of your excellent grades and that you are playing lacrosse on the submissive's team. I'm not the only one who's noticed either," Maks stated.

Stiles stared at him curiously, wriggling slightly on his knees in an effort to stay silent. Maks pressed onward.

"The Headmaster asked me to come see him recently to talk to him about Derek. About Derek and you, in particular. He asked me for permission to have Derek claim you."

"What?" Stiles yelped, falling off the pillow as his whole body jerked in surprise, losing his battle to stay obediently silent. He quickly righted himself to kneel on the pillow again but continued to look at his father with stunned disbelief.

"It's okay, Stiles," Maks hurried to reassure him, thinking Stiles' reaction was maybe a nervous reaction. "The choice is still yours. I made sure of that. I also made sure that if you don't want Derek to be your first Dom, there will be no repercussions at school."

Stiles shook his head, looking a little dazed. "No, Dad, that's not it at all. I just-we met him today, the headmaster brought him to our table and I had no idea. No clue who he was or anything."

Maks smiled at his flustered son. "Well, I wouldn't worry too much about it. What did you think? Do you think you could submit to Derek? I think it could be a good first claim for you, but I want you to be comfortable with your Dom. A Hale claiming you would be considered a big thing around town, but if you don't think you'd be happy then I'll just tell them tonight to forget about it. Your happiness and well being are what's important to me, not what other people think."

"Jesus, Dad, have you seen him?" Stiles asked, gesturing with both arms.

Maks frowned. "Well, not recently. Not since he was a kid about your age. Is there something wrong? It's not a problem that he's a male dominant, right?"

Stiles shook his head vehemently. "Oh, god, no. I'm fine with that. He's just freakin' hot. Gloriously so."

"Okay? And that's a good thing, right?" Maks wanted to be sure he understood. "Will you be willing to accept his claim? That means you'll be agreeing to submit to him. They're coming tonight to make you a formal offer. If you agree then we'll make arrangements to meet with the magistrate to enter into the claim. You'll be going with him to live at the Hale estate. There will be a contract drawn up and everything. Is this what you want? Talk to me, Stiles."

"Lydia's never going to let me live this down," Stiles said distractedly, still looking dazed.

Maks frowned in concern. He knew at one point Stiles had carried a torch for Lydia, but he thought that phase had passed. "What's Lydia got to do with this?"

Stiles shook his head, giving a short, unbelieving laugh. "Oh, nothing really, just that she's once again proven right. She's always right, you know."

"O-o-okay," Maks said, deciding not to ask what Stiles meant, "as long as you're sure, then when they get here tonight I'll give my permission for the claim to happen. We'll need to make an appointment with Deaton, the magistrate, to meet with the two of you along with the Alpha to make it a formal deal. After that it's a matter of you getting your cuffs and setting up your contract. Derek's had some serious heartache in his past, son. He's been hesitant to claim a sub, but now he's finally ready to do so, and the person he's choosing is you. This is what you want?"

Stiles swallowed nervously but nodded his head. "Yeah, Dad. I'll do it. I'll take the claim."

Maks smiled at Stiles, though it was a little sad. "Alright then. On your feet, son. Come give me a hug." He opened his arms for Stiles to step into and held him tightly, knowing the boy he held would soon cease to exist and in his place would be a young man. "I wish your mother were here to see this. She would have been so happy and proud."

Stiles gave a little sniffle and protested, "Dad, I can't officially meet my new Dom looking like I've been crying. He'll get the wrong idea." He laid his head on his father's shoulder and sighed. "I miss her so much, Dad. I wish she was here, too."

They stood there quietly holding each other for a moment, each lost in their own thoughts. Maks gave Stiles a final squeeze and pushed him back gently. "Alright. They'll be here in a few hours, so we need to get ready. I put some nice steaks in some marinade earlier, so they should be ready for the grill before too long. And don't give me that look," he said sternly, seeing Stiles' disapproving glance. "I work hard, I can have a steak from time to time. Besides, we're hosting werewolves tonight, important ones at that, and I'm not about to insult them with vegetarian cuisine."

"Could've done chicken," mumbled Stiles in protest.

Maks shook his head fondly. "Nothing but the best for your new Dom, my boy. So let's get a move on. Times a-wastin'. I'm going to go start the grill. There are baking potatoes next to the sink, I want you to clean them and get them ready to cook. There's also stuff in the fridge for a salad, so your need for vegetables is met. I figure you can make some sort of dessert and that should do. Sound like a plan?"

Stiles nodded. "Okay, I'll go get started. I might as well call Lydia while I'm working and let her start congratulating herself on." He ran a hand through his hair and sighed. "She said there was a reason Headmaster had brought Derek to our table today. She had a feeling there was something about the way he looked at me and how he looked at her for touching me. I thought she was crazy."

Knowing how possessive wolf Doms could be, Maks wasn't surprised that the perceptive Lydia had caught onto Derek. There was no way Peter hadn't smugly told Derek in advance just who he was taking him to see. It would be interesting to see how that dynamic worked out. Although there had never been any claim or intent to claim, Lydia had been subconsciously domming Stiles for years, even when they were children and didn't know any better. She was fiercely protective of him and would hardly be the type to back down if she felt she was in the right where Stiles was concerned. He just hoped the two Dominants would manage to get along and not cause Stiles to feel conflicted between them. He gave Stiles a squeeze on the shoulder and went to prepare the grill.

Stiles stood there for a moment, then slowly went down the hall to his bedroom. He walked in and shut the door, looking around for a moment. For some reason, it seemed surreal, like there should be something different about it. Yet it was still the same; somewhat cluttered, bed unmade and clothes tossed in the vicinity of the hamper rather than in it, soda cans and empty Cheetos and Doritos bags littering the computer desk. He wondered if he had time to clean any before starting his part of dinner, then decided against it. Claim or not, it was hardly likely his dad would let him bring Derek into his room. Not that they would do...what? Anything? Stiles felt his cheeks grow hot at the thought of kneeling before his Dom, but he refused to let his mind wander further. He'd watched his fair share of porn, probably more than might be good for him, but hey, he'd done his research. The last thing he had wanted was to embarrass himself once he was finally claimed. Stiles firmly believed in being prepared for anything, so of course he had watched both straight and gay porn. For science. And reasons.

But he didn't need to be getting distracted and he definitely didn't have time for Stiles time, because his Dom was coming over tonight and...

Holy shit, his DOM was coming over tonight!

Stiles grabbed his cellphone out of his bag and unlocked the screen. He hurriedly hit the button to call Lydia, mentally denying the fact that his hands shook ever so slightly.

C'mon, Lyds, pick up, pick up...

"Stiles?" answered Lydia, sounding just a little distracted.

"Oh my god, Lyds, you were right, you were so right," gasped out Stiles.

"Of course I was right," Lydia said smugly, then, "Wait, about what? What am I right about now?"

"My dad just told me that he and the headmaster have an agreement and Derek Hale, smokin' hot, supermodel, direct descendant of the gods Derek Hale is going to be my Dom, and Jesus Christ, Lydia, I'm gonna have a heart attack right now," Stiles panted as his anxiety threatened to overtake him.

"Breathe, Stiles," Lydia said sharply. She listened for a moment for his breathing to regulate as he automatically complied. "In, out, and again. Yes, good boy, that's better." She paused for a moment before letting out a slightly wicked sounding giggle. "Is this where I say I told you so?"

"How is it you're always right?" grumbled Stiles, feeling better now that his heartbeat had slowed back down.

"Darling, you should know by now that I'm rarely wrong, especially when it comes to men and what they want," Lydia said flippantly. "Now, I don't mean to cut this short, but I have my boys playing right now and I need to get back to them. I'm rewarding Jackson for making lacrosse captain."

"You're letting him Dom Danny?" Stiles squawked in surprise.

"They're playing," Lydia corrected. "Like what Erica was saying at lunch today. I saw how Danny reacted and knew he would be interested. Besides, it pleases me to please them, and they are awfully pretty together. So if you'll excuse me, I do need to go. You should call Scott. He missed out on all this today, and you know if you don't tell him until after the fact he'll have his feelings hurt and walk around for days with that kicked puppy look. Gotta go, bye!"

The line went dead as she ended the call without giving Stiles the chance to say anything else. Stiles stared bemusedly at his phone for a moment, blown away as always by the whirlwind that was Lydia Martin. She was right, though, he needed to call Scott and fill him in. As a fellow submissive, Scott could probably relate more to the mixture of excitement and apprehension that came with being claimed. God knew Stiles had listened to Scott for what seemed like endless hours when Allison first started at Hale Academy and became the Domme of Scott's dreams. He wasn't sure who had been more relieved when Allison claimed Scott: Scott or himself.

Stiles checked the time and decided that unless he wanted to end up making their dinner late, hardly the impression he wanted to make, he would have to call Scott while working in the kitchen. He dialed and held the phone to his ear as he quickly made his way down the stairs, stumbling and missing the bottom one completely in his haste but somehow managing to stay upright and still holding his phone.

"Hey, Stiles!" Scott cheerfully greeted when he picked up. "What's up?"

"Hey. Can you talk?" Stiles asked as he started running water in the sink to scrub the potatoes his dad had indicated earlier. He pulled out the tinfoil and some sea salt and olive oil, deciding he would prepare them for baking while talking to Scott.

"Sure. Allison's not in right now, she and her dad are training. Luckily, her mom decided to go along and watch them. I know the fact I'm a wolf doesn't sit so well with them, but her dad's just intimidating. Her mom, on the other hand, looks at me like she could imagine nothing more pleasurable than flaying me alive. That woman is one terrifying Domme," Scott said in a near whisper, as though the Argents were the ones with the enhanced senses and might overhear him somehow.

Stiles winced in sympathy. When the well known hunter clan found out their darling Allison fully intended to claim a wolf submissive, there had been heated arguments among them. Victoria in particular had been horrified by what people would think. Allison, having been raised as a strong Domme that expected to be accommodated and obeyed, would not be swayed, and Chris and Victoria reluctantly welcomed Scott into their home as their daughter's submissive. While Peter Hale was more than a little intimidating, both as a Dom and the Alpha wolf, at least Stiles could take comfort in the fact that Peter didn't actively dislike him.

"I can imagine," Stiles said sympathetically. "So, did you get in a lot of trouble today? You guys never did come to the group lounge for free period."

"You know how it is when Allison punishes me. She makes sure to let me know how disappointed she is, which is the absolute worst, because I hate that, I just want to please her, you know? But then she makes me go with her to Dom Harris' class. I think she's going to make me apologize or something, which would have sucked enough, because he's such a dick, right? But no. She makes me sit in a desk and watch while she goes to the board and writes 'I will not allow my submissive to misbehave in class' 500 times. Like she's being punished instead for something I did. I realized what she was doing right away and I begged her to let me do it. But she just ignored me and didn't say a word, which freakin' sucks. She wouldn't let me write, wouldn't let me do it for her. By the time she was finished, I swear, I had nearly died," lamented Scott.

"That's rough, buddy," Stiles commiserated, feeling his own guilt for his part in Scott's punishment. Not being allowed to serve their Dom was guaranteed to get to a sub, making them feel even more guilty for having disappointed, especially when they had to watch their Dom do something in their place. But being ignored by their Dom was even worse. Stiles hoped he never made Derek angry enough to ignore him.

"It's okay," Scott said cheerfully. "When she was finished she let me kneel for her, and she petted me and told me she forgave me but expected me to behave in class, that it wasn't right to cause a distraction and keep others from learning. So I'm okay. She's the perfect Domme, you know?"

"You've mentioned it before," Stiles said dryly, having heard such a sentiment from his friend numerous times. "So listen, since you weren't with us during free time you missed meeting the Headmaster's nephew, Derek Hale."

"Yeah?" asked Scott, not sounding terribly interested.

"Yeah," answered Stiles, rolling his eyes. He loved Scott, but his friend was decidedly Allison-centric at times, and if it wasn't in some way related to her he tended to not pay attention. "You could be a little more enthusiastic here, best buddy old pal, seeing as this is your future brother-from-another-mother-in-law we're discussing here," he said, fighting back a slightly hysterical laugh as he anticipated Scott's reaction. He waited for a moment for Scott to realize what he had said, nearly ready to repeat himself when he heard Scott's choked intake of air.

"Wait, what?" sputtered Scott. "You want to be claimed by the Alpha's nephew? Are you crazy?"

"What's so crazy about it? You weren't even there, you haven't seen this guy. Besides, how does that make me crazy? Don't I deserve to be claimed by a good Dom?" Stiles reasoned, trying to keep the slight hurt out of his voice and not succeeding. "It's actually happening, by the way, not just my wishful thinking. Headmaster talked to my dad about it, and they're coming over tonight for dinner and to discuss the claim. You could at least be happy for me, Scott, I would've thought that you of all people might be."

"Sorry," Scott said meekly. "You just caught me off guard. Of course you deserve a great Dom, the best. Are you sure he's it, though? I mean, you don't even know this guy. What do you know about him besides who his uncle is and that he's got a pretty face? What if he's an asshole?"

Stiles wasn't sure exactly how to answer. Scott had wanted to belong to Allison almost from the moment he'd given her a pen in a class they shared. They'd had a definite connection. How could he make Scott understand that the idea of kneeling and submitting to Derek seemed right somehow, when he didn't really understand it himself? "Do you really think my dad would agree to let me go to someone who was an asshole?" he parried instead.

"You're right," agreed Scott, sounding relieved. "Your dad would never do that. So, hey, wow! This is actually happening! Your first claim. By one of the Hales at that! Practically royalty now, huh? How do you feel?"

"Truthfully? I think I'm freaking out just a little," Stiles confessed as he finished scrubbing the potatoes and started tearing off tinfoil to wrap them in once he'd coated them in olive oil and salted them. "Like I said, you didn't see this guy. He's super hot, you have no idea. He could get any submissive he wanted. We're talking they would probably fight each other for the chance to get with him. Yet here he is, choosing me. What if he regrets it? What if I'm not good enough?"

"What are you talking about? Of course you're good enough. He's lucky to be getting you," Scott declared loyally. "I get it, that he's hot, but let's be real, you aren't so bad yourself, not that I look at you like that, but I get why someone else would. You're one of the top submissives in school, everyone knows that. No wonder the Alpha likes the match, nothing but the best for his family, right? Since he's your first Dom, he'll get all your firsts, you know? He gets to train you just how he likes. For some Doms that's supposed to be a big deal."

Stiles knew Scott was trying to make him feel better, but instead he was suddenly feeling more nervous at the thought of doing anything with Derek. "He'll be able to tell I have no clue what I'm doing, Scott. I've never done anything with anyone, all I know I learned on the Internet and by watching porn. He's either going to die laughing at me or kick me out and wonder why he bothered taking on a sub no one else wanted," Stiles worried as he poked holes in the wrapped potatoes with a fork.

"Don't be stupid," retorted Scott. "If he's anything like the Alpha it'll probably give him a huge ego boost to be the one who gets to do things to you. At least now you can quit complaining that you've never seen nudity in real life except for the locker room."

"Hey, everyone knows that doesn't actually count. Besides, I saw Jessa Meyer's boob at the pool once!" argued Stiles defensively.

"Really? You never mentioned it. How'd you manage that?" asked Scott, sounding betrayed that this was the first time he'd heard this. "She showed you?"

"Not exactly. She was at the deep end and her suit had slipped. I don't think she noticed," Stiles soothed, trying to placate him.

"So it was just there hanging out by itself? Did it float?" Scott asked, sounding fascinated.

"I don't know, sort of, I guess? You've never asked Allison or looked at hers in the water before?" Stiles questioned, wondering why it mattered.

"My dick floats," Scott laughed.

"Gee, Scott, let me call the local news. There's probably time to get you a feature on the late showing," Stiles shot back sarcastically.

"Doesn't yours?" asked Scott, still laughing.

"Dude, how are we even discussing this? I take showers. Showers are nice for Stiles time, which I happen to enjoy. As often as I can. I promise, if I ever find out, you'll be the first person to know," Stiles threatened, only half joking. He had to hand it to Scott, though, he was feeling a bit more relaxed now.

"I bet you say that to all the boys," Scott teased. "But listen, I need to go. I just heard the garage door opening, which means Allison's back from training. I'm going to go run her a hot bath and get her bed ready. If I'm lucky, maybe she'll let me massage her tonight. I'd say break a leg, but I'd be afraid you'd actually do it. So good luck, yeah?"

"Gee, thanks, Scott, nothing like the confidence of your best friend to give you that calming little boost," Stiles snarked.

"Dude, you're worrying for nothing. He's going to love you. You got this, okay? We'll talk later and you can give me all the dirty details. Go get him, tiger!" and Scott hung up.

Stiles put his phone down and wondered briefly about his choice in friends and what that said about him as a person. He arranged the potatoes in a foil pan and took them outside to his dad to be grilled, then returned to the kitchen to mix together a large bowl of salad and try to figure out something for dessert.

He could so do this.

Deciding on his mother's chocolate lava cake recipe, Stiles set the oven to preheat and deftly mixed together the ingredients. He prepared them in the ramekins that Angie had always insisted made the cakes taste the best. Stiles popped them in the oven and set the timer on his phone. He decided he had just enough time to shower and change before they were ready, so he headed back upstairs to do so.

If he jerked off in the shower to thoughts of Derek Hale whispering words of praise to him while he sucked his cock, well, it was no one's business but his own.


Derek paced his room pensively. He had rearranged his closet (twice) to make room for anything Stiles might want or need to hang up and had emptied half of the drawers in the dresser to accommodate for Stiles' things. A service submissive had already stripped his king sized bed and replaced all the bedding with clean linens. The sheets were the soft and luxurious high thread count that Derek preferred, and the comforter was plush and lightweight. Extra pillows were piled on the bed and Derek hoped it looked cozy and inviting. He sat on the bed and bounced, testing the springiness of the mattress, idly wondering if Stiles would find it comfortable and finding himself really, really hoping so.

There was a perfunctory knock on the door and Laura burst in without waiting for an answer. "There you are! I've been looking all over for you. If I didn't know any better I'd think you were avoiding me." She softly shut the door behind her and rushed across his room, stopping in front of him to stare at him with wide eyes.

"What are you talk-what the hell are you doing?" barked Derek, his whole body jerking in surprise as his sister, the next Alpha and a Domme in her own right with a soon to be collared submissive, dropped to her knees in front of him.

Laura looked at him, her normally mischievous and sparkling eyes now wide and pleading as she took his hands in her own. "Is it true? Please say it's real and not just Peter trying to mess with my head with his twisted sense of humor."

"What are you going on about? Get up," hissed Derek, growing more uncomfortable each moment she knelt before him. He pulled his hands out of her grasp and slid over, patting his bed to indicate for her to sit next to him.

Laura rose to her feet with a fluid grace that even Peter admitted he sometimes envied and sat down on the proffered spot. She eyed Derek's face, looking at it as though she could discover any secrets he might be hiding if she concentrated hard enough. She took a deep breath and released it on a soft sigh.

"Peter says you're finally taking a submissive, Der. Actually claiming one, not just hitting up the clubs again. Is it true?" Laura asked gently as she continued to stare at him searchingly.

Derek swallowed heavily. There were times Laura reminded him so much of their mother it was almost painful. He scowled at her to cover up his emotions and keep them at bay. "It's not like it's a big deal, Lola. Peter arranged the whole deal with the Sheriff beforehand. I take on his kid as a sub and they have some sort of business partnership arrangement after that."

"Not a big deal?" Laura retorted. "Are you joking? This is huge! This is the first time you've taken a real submissive. You're finally letting go of the past and not letting that bitch keep a hold on you even from her prison cell. I know you, Derek. You've wouldn't do something you didn't want to do, no matter how much Peter stomped and snarled you'd have found a way out if you wanted to." She stopped and narrowed her eyes at him suspiciously. "You would, right? Peter didn't blackmail you into this or anything? Don't get me wrong, I want you to have a true sub, but only if you want it. If you're doing this under duress, I'll have your back with Peter. You know that." She ran her hands through her long, dark hair and huffed in frustration. "I don't know what I'm saying here. I feel like I'm contradicting myself."

Derek smiled grimly at her. "He didn't really give me any choice. It was The Alpha that informed me I'd be taking on the Stilinski kid as a submissive. You know that means it's final or else."

Laura stared at him. "Did you say Stilinski? You're getting Stiles Stilinski as a submissive?" A huge smile broke over her face. " But, Der, that's awesome! He's one of the best submissives in the school, smart, a bit on the sassy side, maybe, but it just adds to his charm if you ask me. Oh, and he's so adorable it should honestly be illegal. Just wait until you see him!"

"I already have," Derek confessed, almost reluctantly but unable to keep the truth from her. "Peter took me to see him at the school."

Laura studied him for a moment, then her smile became a wicked grin. "You liked him, didn't you?" she crowed triumphantly. "That's why you aren't fighting Peter on this, Alpha decree or no. You'd have found a way out of it somehow if you didn't really want it, even if it meant getting your ass handed to you by Peter for insubordination." She laughed delightedly.

"Shut up," grumbled Derek irritably. He was a grown man, he hated when Laura somehow managed to make him feel like an awkward teenager. So what if she was absolutely right? There was something about Stiles Stilinski that captured his interest and made his wolf pace in anticipation. The thought of having him in his bed, awaiting the pleasures he could show him made Derek's mouth go dry and his body burn with a need that he'd never felt before with any other submissive.

"Oh, no, I am going to enjoy this, you have absolutely no idea. I can't wait to welcome him to the family. I know! I should get him a nice gift basket filled with toys and things!" Laura grinned when Derek bared his teeth and growled at her. "Ohhhhhh, possessive already, are we, little brother? Don't want anyone spoiling your submissive but you?"

Derek fought back a blush, hating that Laura knew exactly how to get to him. She really was world's worst tease. "You have your own submissive to pamper," he said instead, refusing to directly acknowledge her comment.

"True," Laura beamed happily. "Boyd is amazing, so gorgeous when he submits. You should know, though," she continued wickedly, "Stiles isn't the top submissive student for nothing. He kneels quite prettily, if I do say so myself. And those incredible eyes of his, they just shine with perfect submission when he's being put through his paces. He seems to have quite the affinity for endurance, it seems. Oh, and don't forget that gorgeous mouth of his. I don't know which would be better, to see those pretty lips stretched around a gag or to listen to every plea he made while pushing him to his limit."

Derek glowered at her, fighting back another growl and refusing to let his mind conjure up the images her words created. "You're a horrible person," he snapped.

"I know," Laura agreed as she shrugged nonchalantly. "It keeps me awake at night. Seriously, though, Derek," she said earnestly, "I really am happy for you. I honestly was afraid you would keep on punishing yourself for what happened. Don't you know that by keeping yourself from claiming a true submissive and giving yourself the chance to be happy, you've been letting her win all this time?"

Derek looked at the floor, unable to meet her eyes. "It doesn't matter, Lola. No matter which way you look at things, it was my fault."

"You were a kid, Derek. She knew just how to get to you and make you dance to her tune. What happened was terrible, nothing changes that, but you're still here, you're still alive. Mom and Dad wouldn't have wanted you torturing yourself." Laura reached out and cupped Derek's cheek in his hand. "I know they'd be really happy for you right now," she said softly. "You have a real chance for true happiness here, Der. Don't let her ruin it for you. She's in prison, paying her dues. Just let her rot there."

They sat quietly for a moment, both lost in their own thoughts and memories of the past. A soft knock on the door startled them both back to the present.

"Come in," Derek said loud enough for whomever it was to hear. The door opened and one of the household service subs stepped in, eyes downcast respectfully.

"If you please, Sir, Alpha Hale is requesting your presence in the study," he said quietly. "Shall I inform him you'll join him momentarily?"

"Go ahead. Might as well get this over with," Derek groused. "Thank you, that'll be all," he waved a hand in dismissal to send the submissive on his way.

Laura stood up and tugged him to his feet. "Be excited, Der! You're going to get your submissive!" She then looked him over critically. "You're not wearing that, are you?"

Derek looked down at his gray Henley and dark blue jeans. He frowned at Laura. "What's wrong with what I'm wearing?"

"Do you think this is just some casual dinner you're going to?" demanded Laura. "You're going to have dinner with the Sheriff at his house and declare your intent to deflower his only child! Don't you think you should dress up just a little for the occasion?"

"Good god, Laura, I'm not going to tell him I'm going to deflower his son, do I look that stupid to you?" hissed Derek, glaring at her even as he moved to comply with what she said. She did have an excellent point, of course, but Derek would bathe in liquid wolfsbane before he admitted so to her out loud.

Laura glared right back at him. "The man is no idiot, Derek. He didn't get elected by being a fool. He's a Dominant and he knows full well what you'll be doing with his son. At least give him the comfort of thinking he's giving his boy to a respectable Dom and not some miscreant that doesn't know how to dress properly when the situation calls for it!" She shoved him to the side. "Move. I'll help you so you don't screw this up."

"Fine," snapped Derek as he pulled his shirt off and threw it on the floor in a display of petulant temper. Remembering he was bringing home a submissive tonight, he growled low in the back of his throat and picked the shirt up to toss it in the hamper in the corner instead.

Five minutes later Derek found himself dressed in a pair of khaki pants paired with a shoulder-hugging light green sweater that Laura swore brought out his eyes. Not that he cared about such a thing. Not really.

Okay, fine, maybe just a little.

"There," Laura said, sounding satisfied with her efforts. "Now you look a little less like a biker and more like a respectable Dom." She put her hands on her hips and studied him thoughtfully again for a moment. "Don't go anywhere," she ordered as she turned and stepped into his ensuite bathroom, returning quickly and rubbing her hands together. "Now, hold still," she demanded as she reached up and began running her hands through his hair, obviously styling it.

Derek tolerated her ministrations for a moment before snapping, "Hurry up, would you?"

"Anxious, are we?" Laura teased. She stepped back to check out her handiwork and nodded once. "You'll do. I rather wish you'd shaved, but maybe you'll get lucky and Stiles is into the facial scruff." She turned him in the direction of the door and gave him a little shove. "Go now. Don't keep the Alpha waiting. Go get your boy. And leave the leather jacket here."

Derek walked to his door and took a deep, calming breath. He turned and grinned at Laura, unable to resist one final parting shot. "Thanks. Oh, and if you're nice, maybe I won't tell Boyd you think my submissive has a pretty mouth." He closed the door behind him and smirked to himself in satisfaction when he heard Laura yell, "Derek! You wouldn't dare!"

The closer he got to Peter's study, though, the more Derek's grin faded. He shook his head in irritation with himself. It was as though there were dozens of butterflies all aflutter in his stomach and his skin tingled from the tips of his toes to the very roots of his hair. His wolf seemed to be pacing back and forth just under the surface of his skin. It wasn't as though he was afraid of Peter, so Derek couldn't understand why he felt so...nervous. What was it about this boy, this human that had him so worked up? Derek was confident in his abilities to dominate and please a submissive. He had been a popular patron of the Sub Club in New York City, where he had been a regular. Word got around that he was a highly desirable Dom and a generous and considerate lover. It was no secret that the club submissives often argued amongst themselves over who got to service him, and several had actually begged him to claim them after their sessions. Whenever that happened, he would gently turn them down and then quietly and discreetly arrange with the club to never be set up with that submissive again.

So why was he now as nervous as a fresh faced boy about to try to dominate his first sub? he wondered irritably.

Peter smiled smugly at him as he entered the study, doing little to improve Derek's black mood. It was as though the bastard knew of his inner turmoil and was amused by it.

"Oh, come now, Derek, what's with the sour face?" Peter chided. "You're either going to frighten the boy to death or convince him that you're terminally grumpy. I know how charming you're capable of being, put your game face on. Do remember you have a protective father to win over tonight as well."

Derek glared back at his uncle, managing enough control of himself so as to not growl at him in response. "May I remind you that this is all your doing and not my own choice," he snapped.

Peter looked back at him serenely and completely unruffled by his temper. "And may I remind you that when you set eyes on the boy for the first time I could smell the pheromones practically coming off you in waves? Even Erica could tell, though she is far too well mannered to say anything. You can complain and deny all you like, Derek, but that doesn't change the irrefutable fact that you want him. Badly, at that. So cease all this nonsense and kindly remember that, as you are so fond of reminding me, you are, in fact, an adult."

Peter's lecture was interrupted by the intercom unit on his desk buzzing. He leaned forward and pressed the talk button. "Yes?"

"The car you ordered is ready for you, Sir," came the reply.

"Excellent. Thank you, we'll be right there," Peter answered. He turned his gaze back to Derek and narrowed his eyes. "It's time to go, Derek. Think about it; your choices here can insure you future happiness or misery. It would be so much more pleasant if you at least made the attempt to make the best of things. You aren't the only one who'll be affected here."

The ride to the Stilinski house was a quiet one, with Peter casually reading stock reports and Derek staring out the window in pensive silence. It was strange, but it seemed that the closer in proximity to Stiles that he got, the calmer he seemed to feel. As irritating as it was that Peter was yet again right, Derek had to admit to himself that while he still was unable to understand the effect this boy had on him, he did want him. The idea of anyone else claiming him was completely intolerable and made his wolf want to howl with rage. He wanted to possess him, every inch of him. He wanted to see him kneeling at his feet, awaiting his command with breathless anticipation. He wanted to taste the sweetness of those perfect pink lips. He wanted to hear the sounds he would make as he was pushed to the edge and brought back again and again. He wanted to cover his body with his own until he smelled like Derek's. He wanted to mark that perfect skin so that there was no question who he belonged to.

He would take his boy out to the finest places, dressed in the best fashions and with both Derek's cuff adorning his wrist and Derek's mark on his neck. He would show him off to the world, to be admired and, yes, desired, but only from a distance, because Derek knew he wouldn't hesitate to swiftly and unmercifully punish any challenge to him from any other Dominant. Did he dare hope for more, hope that his boy would yearn for him in the same way? He wasn't sure yet, but he was keenly aware that there was something about him that was changing Derek, even before they officially met. It was both exhilarating and terrifying at the same time.

When the car pulled up to the Stilinski house, Derek's initial dread had instead become a sharp sense of nervous anticipation. Tonight he would be bringing his boy home with him, and Derek promised himself he would make things good for him. He was a mature Dom, he could handle a boy entering into his first claim.

He would keep assuring himself of that until it finally sunk in.

The service submissive that was the driver of the car opened the door to let Derek out. He had been so deep in his own thoughts that he hadn't noticed that Peter had already gotten out and was standing on the sidewalk waiting for him with an amused expression on his face. Derek scowled at him in response. He followed Peter to the door, breathing quicker as anticipation caused his nerves to go into full on attack mode and the butterflies that had been merely fluttering in his belly earlier returned and began dive bombing instead.

"Relax," whispered Peter as he rang the doorbell. "You're going to end up either vomiting or passing out, neither of which is the first impression you want to make."

Derek didn't say anything in reply, just concentrated on regulating his heartbeat to a normal level and took a brief moment to thank providence that humans couldn't hear or smell emotions like wolves did. He could hear footsteps approaching from inside the house and swallowed heavily to force back the nervousness threatening his composure.

This was it. This was actually happening.


TBC

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