A/N: Sometimes my stories take strange turns of their own volition ... keep the faith and enjoy!
Stiles was sweating and whimpering in earnest by the time they reached Jackson's rather large home. Jackson was one of several architects for the Hale pack and he'd designed many of their homes and office buildings. Stiles had known him for most of his life since he wasn't much older than he was, but he'd rarely interacted with him. The few times they'd run into one another when they were younger, Jackson had been particularly dismissive of the omega. That hadn't changed when Jackson began assisting his father with his work and eventually submitting his own designs and plans. But then again, Jackson was that way to everyone. His parents, other pack mates, definitely pack humans – if Jackson didn't see an advantage to be had, he generally didn't bother.
Thus, Stiles' extreme confusion on top of his swiftly becoming addled mental state. Why had Jackson offered – no, asked – to take the disgraced pack human during his Heat? Part of Stiles was afraid of what the beta intended to do but it drowned beneath wave after wave of need and submission.
Jackson took Stiles by the arm and led him unresisting to the bedroom. "Bed," Jackson said softly and firmly. Stiles' brain registered the command and he was able to focus while Jackson left the room. Undressing quickly, Stiles folded his clothes and placed them neatly to one side. Then he got on the bed on all fours to await the beta. Stiles heard a sharp inhale when Jackson entered the room again and he looked over his shoulder, thinking he'd done something wrong. His entire body shuddered with want when he saw Jackson standing in nothing more than a blue robe, loosely belted. The beta's eyes were dilated and his nostrils flared. A low growl rumbled from the werewolf's throat. Stiles groaned … his Heat was in full control now. He was past caring what Jackson intended … he just wanted him. Now. Immediately.
Jackson approached Stiles slowly and ran a hand along the glistening line of his body from rump to shoulder.
"You smell so … good, Stiles," Jackson said, again with a low growl.
His eyes flashed briefly yellow as the wolf pushed forward. Stiles whined and his head dropped down as he panted. Later, Stiles wouldn't admit he whined. But he did … he absolutely whined … without a doubt he begged … no question at all that he presented … and Jackson accepted the offer with a predatory smile. Removing his robe, Jackson pushed Stiles over onto his back. Stiles made a questioning noise. Jackson chuckled darkly.
"We'll get to that later, little omega … right now … I'm going to make you scream."
Stiles quickly learned that when Jackson Whittemore put his mind to a task, he succeeded.
Initial heats varied in time. Stiles' took three days to run its course. Three days of his Heat spent with Jackson Whittemore. Three surprisingly awesome days of sex in various positions. Three days of intimate contact with a beta werewolf who made him completely forget for a while his lost pack position and the pain of losing Derek. Stiles waited every time Jackson climaxed for a claiming bite but it never came.
Now, on the morning of the fourth day, Stiles lay on his side facing away from Jackson when he awoke. His body was sore, bruised and scratched (not deeply thank God) but there was no real debilitating pain. He had been twisted and turned into positions he didn't even think he was capable of but after all of it, he felt oddly content. Judging from his physical reactions, Jackson had been just as pleased by Stiles. Which was good. Omegas were supposed to be able to pleasure their … Stiles paused in his musing. Jackson hadn't claimed him so they weren't mates.
Maybe, Stiles thought, he'd misread Jackson and the beta hadn't liked him. That would be one more tick on Peter's checklist to justify voting him off the island. Stiles had no illusions that the ranking beta wasn't going to keep pushing that agenda. He was just a pack human … an omega at that … he had no special skill although he was good at many things.
A dark thought drifted through Stiles' mind. Perhaps this was going to be his punishment … he would become a diversion for the betas or alphas in the pack, passed around as necessary. A lifetime of servicing alphas or betas but never being claimed. Ice began to seep through Stiles' veins the more he began to think about it. It was nothing he'd ever heard of the Hale pack doing … nothing he could imagine they would do. He'd never imagined they'd collar him either so things could change.
Stiles bit his lip. Omegas did not do well when unclaimed … it usually drove them clean out of their mind. Even on the run, Stiles had believed he would find someone willing to mate him. But here … the Hales controlled his life. If they wanted him to suffer for rejecting and embarrassing the heir apparent of the Hale pack, this would be the way to do it. Stiles suddenly felt oh so very cold and very afraid.
Jackson was swimming up from a deep, very restful sleep when he sensed something … not right. He wasn't completely conscious but the nearness of the omega brought his scent clearly to Jackson's senses. Stiles' scent had shifted … no longer warm and inviting, it was full of the sharp tang of fear. Jackson could feel the slender body in his bed beginning to tremor. He frowned and forced himself fully awake.
"Stiles?"
Another shiver. Jackson reached out and pulled Stiles to him. He was surprised at the icy skin. An unexpected surge of protectiveness flowed through him.
"Stiles, what's wrong? Why are you so scared?" Jackson asked uneasily. Stiles shook his head. Jackson frowned again, this time with impatience. "Stiles, tell me what's wrong. Now."
Stiles swallowed hard. He couldn't ignore a direct command like that … not from any werewolf but certainly not the beta wolf that'd just seen him through his first Heat.
"Y-you did-didn't c-claim me," Stiles chattered.
Jackson blinked and then chuckled, pressing a soft kiss against the back of Stiles' neck. "Of course I didn't, you goof. Wait … do you think I'm going to pass you off to someone else?"
Stiles said nothing, which told Jackson that, was exactly it. He pulled on the omega's shoulder until he turned over. Jackson ran his fingers through the shock of hair and ran his thumb along a cheekbone suddenly wet with tears.
"I didn't claim you because I didn't want that decision made in the heat of well … your Heat," Jackson explained. "And … I wanted to keep Peter from taking you."
Stiles fell still, his eyes widening. "P-Peter?"
Jackson hummed and nodded. He pressed a kiss just over Stiles' left eyebrow and was a little put out that the omega didn't respond. Jackson leaned back and studied Stiles' eyes while listening to the racing heartbeat. "You didn't know he petitioned Talia for your first heat?"
"Of course I didn't know that! If I had, I would've – "Stiles swallowed the rest of the statement but Jackson already knew what he'd meant to say.
"You would have run again?" Jackson asked.
Stiles started shaking again … he'd just admitted to a pack member that he was considering doing the unthinkable … again. "No … I mean, I … uh – oh God … Jackson, please, I'm sorry … I just – don't – "
Stiles had pulled away from Jackson so forcefully he fell off the side. Scrambling, Stiles got to his knees and pleaded. "Jackson I didn't mean it. Please don't say anything … it was a random thought … I –"
Jackson slid over and sat on the edge of the bed in front of Stiles. He regarded the omega for a moment, his expression unreadable. Taking firm hold of Stiles' chin, Jackson tugged him close and asked a question Stiles never expected.
"Tell me, Stiles … when did Peter start with you?"
Stiles froze and tried to pull back but Jackson's leg hooked around him and held him in place. He swallowed hard.
"I don't know … I –"Stiles stammered.
Jackson smiled gently and Stiles had to admit it made him even more handsome. "Don't be afraid, Stiles … just answer the question."
It was next to impossible to lie to a werewolf. Stiles sighed and looked down. "The day my mother died."
Jackson cursed softly and it was all Stiles could do not to flinch away. He blinked rapidly, trying to keep the tears at bay.
"I'm sorry … I didn't do it on purpose!" Stiles pleaded. "I didn't mean to mislead, I just – it was my Heat and I couldn't think and I never thought - "
Jackson pressed his hand against Stiles' lips. "Hush, omega." Stiles fell silent. "I'm not angry at you … I'm angry at that bastard. I knew you were one of his … have known for a while now."
"One of … his?"
Jackson sighed. "Let's get cleaned up and dressed. I need to eat and this isn't pillow talk conversation."
The shower took somewhat longer than expected when Jackson surprised them both and took Stiles under the water spray. Stiles' brain was whirring. A few days ago, he was the lowest members of the pack … now, even though his Heat was over, Jackson still wanted him physically? What the hell was going on?
Later, dressed and clean, Stiles made them both a late breakfast. As an omega, it was to be his duty to care for the den/home if he ever mated. He knew some omegas chafed at that but he'd actually been looking forward to it … it was in his nature to nurture and care for others. Learning to cook and keep a household was just part of the process. And he was a good cook. Jackson took a bite of the omelet Stiles put in front of him and a curious sound escaped him.
"This is … really good," Jackson said, staring down at the food on his plate.
"Don't sound so surprised," Stiles laughed. "I've been working on perfecting my omelet skills for years now."
Jackson chuckled and motioned at another stool at the kitchen island. "Sit. Eat."
They ate in silence for a moment before Stiles' natural tendency to chatter kicked in. "I hope … I hope you weren't too disappointed with … the last few days?"
Jackson chewed thoughtfully and then smiled. "Surprisingly, no. You're a stronger than I gave you credit for … I don't usually take humans to bed. You have a tendency to break."
Stiles swallowed hard. The thought that Jackson could have actually hurt him hadn't been high on his list of concerns three days ago. In the more sane light of post-Heat, Stiles realized it could have been bad. Very bad. It made him wonder for the first time about other werewolves who'd taken human mates. No one ever really talked about it … most of the time; the human received the Bite prior to the mating anyway which took care of the concern. Stiles wondered how careful Derek would have been. He shoved that thought aside.
"Well … uh, here's to not breaking, then." Stiles finally managed to say.
"What about you?" Jackson asked.
Stiles nearly choked on his bite. "What?"
"Were you … satisfied?"
Stiles blinked. "Um … you're the beta … you don't …"
"Humor me."
"It was awesome, are you kidding me? I just got fuc—I mean, you … uh … anyway … it was good dude. Real good." Stiles exclaimed. Jackson snorted in amusement.
As soon as the words left his mouth, Stiles was reminded of his initial worry. His body language quickly became restrained. His appetite gone, Stiles looked at his plate and decided to ask the question.
"So now what?"
Jackson kept eating. "Now you stay here."
Stiles looked up in shock. "Um … what?"
"Stiles, I had a very specific reason for taking your first Heat. As it turns out, I really did enjoy myself and you … are not as annoying as I thought you might be," Jackson said softly.
Stiles blinked. "Thanks … I think?"
Jackson stared at his now empty plate and sighed. He pressed his lips into a thin line and the muscle in his jaw jumped. "Stiles … you aren't the only one Peter … used."
Stiles pushed off the stool, grabbing Jackson's empty plate and his own and going to the sink. He didn't want to discuss Peter. He didn't want to think about Peter. He sure as hell didn't want to think about Peter doing … that. Peter had ruined everything. If not for Peter, he would never had cause to run. He would never have fled from the one thing he wanted more than anything in his life – Derek.
Jackson watched Stiles scrub at the plates hard enough to remove the pattern. He knew the feeling well … the impotent rage and helplessness was bad enough but even the thought of Peter Hale could make Jackson want to curl up in the darkest corner of his house and never come out. So he kept his mind busy and didn't consider the man unless he absolutely had no other choice. There was a large boulder farther up the hills in a remote location – it bore the marks of Jackson's fists and claws. He'd broken his hand more than once on the rock trying to get images out of his head.
Jackson was slightly shocked to find himself wanting to spare Stiles any further pain and feeling bad that he could not. Not if things were going to change. As a rule, Jackson cared for no one but Jackson. This little human omega, however … he was beginning to understand why Derek had been drawn to Stiles. It remained to be seen if the feelings would last, but for now, he was willing to let them be whatever they were going to be.
Moving quickly and quietly, Jackson stood behind Stiles and gently urged him to put the dishes down. He turned off the faucet, wrapped his arms around the omega, and nuzzled against his neck. Stiles found himself relaxing into the hold before he could stop himself.
"Stiles, you're part of my household now. I'll do what I can to protect you. I know this isn't – that I'm not - what you wanted … but perhaps I'm not so bad a substitute?" Jackson asked.
Stiles turned in the circle of Jackson's arms. This was getting more confusing by the minute. "Dude … gotta have something before you can substitute it and I never had Derek. You got my first Heat … no one else is ever going to have that with me. And … you made it good. Better than good …"
"Awesome?" Jackson supplied.
"Yup, awesome. But I still don't get it … why do you want me? I'm screwed six ways from Sunday in this pack." Stiles asked.
Jackson regarded Stiles seriously. "Actually, if I take you into my house, you'll be my responsibility. Anything you do after that will reflect on me and I'll suffer the consequences. Which means, little omega," Jackson said, taking hold of Stiles' chin again and holding his gaze. "You can ruin me if you pull one of your little stunts. And if you did that …well, let's just say I won't be inclined to be forgiving. Peter wants you out of the pack because of what you know. The minute you're no longer Pack, he'll kill you."
Stiles swallowed hard again. "That … would be bad."
Jackson chuckled. "Yes, yes it would be. You know, you're actually lucky he didn't find you before the Hunters did – he went looking for you."
Stiles' knees buckled and Jackson held him up. "Easy, Stiles. You have a good deal of luck it seems … you survived the City and when I petitioned Talia, she gave you to me without any debate. Even though Peter was standing there and mentioned his own petition." Jackson guided Stiles back to the stool.
"Still haven't answered my question … why me?" Stiles pressed.
Jackson sighed. "I know why you ran, Stiles. I want you to help me make Peter pay for that. Meanwhile you can live here and as part of my household, you'll share my rank. I'm not Derek but I think we could help each other and maybe enjoy it in the process …?" As he talked, Jackson's voice dropped and he leaned closer and closer to Stiles' lips until his breath was ghosting across them.
Stiles' eyes fluttered shut. Derek was lost to him … why couldn't he find some sort of happiness with a beta that wanted him? Would it be so wrong?
"Fucking werewolves," Stiles murmured against Jackson's lips before opening to the kiss. If Jackson noticed the single tear that managed its way down Stiles' face, he didn't say anything.