- Monday. December 3rd 2012.
A new day and basically the same old issues. At least he had one thing cleared up because of Peter but not much was better. He shuffled out of bed, his thoughts still a jumble as he figured out his plan of action. So obviously, Derek was the one who had fucked him. Just Derek and not a gang of strange hunks. Which... How big is Derek Hale? Because his ass had been on fire when he woke up that evening and there was still that dull ache right there.
That was the good news. The bad news was that it had been a one time thing that he had no way of remembering. Except maybe by asking Scott to... Okay that one's out of the suggestion box. No way was he having his bro fish through his memory for a memory of him having sex... gay sex with Derek Hale. Scott might never recover from that. And talking of gay sex, how can you possibly be okay with not remembering how you lost your anal virginity? That was unacceptable. Not right. He had to remember somehow and Derek was not being co operative. He stood under the shower, palm rubbing absentmindedly on his chest, his eyes closed to keep the water out as his hair was matted to his head, strands falling onto his face like bangs. He wished he had no school today but sadly, he'd be a fucking rider if wishes were horses.
Peter was already downstairs when he came down for breakfast, not surprising, and he tuned his mind out, mentally preparing himself for what he knew was going to come anytime soon. Peter looked up from the pan he had been using to fry omelets and smirked that cocky one he always did, turning back to the food as if he wasn't going to say anything but that wasn't how Peter's brain... or his anatomy... or generally, that's not how Peter Hale functions. "If you apologized before, I didn't hear it so you have to speak up."
Derek rolled his eyes. Sometimes he really couldn't stand the man but his emotions this morning were milder. For now. An hour with Peter would no doubt put him back in a homicidal mood. He moved to the fridge in the kitchen, getting a box of juice and walking back to the counter to pour himself a glass of it.
"I still can't hear-"
"Shut up."
"You have low respect for elders."
"I do. Want to do something about it?"
"No i think you'll learn soon enough."
"And what does that mean?"
"It means Stiles was here yesterday.." Derek opened his mouth to speak when Peter briskly put up his palm in a 'stop' fashion. "No I don't mean in the morning when you literally run and left your clothes behind and no I didn't tell him anything. I think he heard everything he needed to hear from your own lips, loud and clear."
Derek's frown deepened, and Peter's smirk got even more condescending. Suppose that's even possible. "He was here right around the time you threw me against the wall and from what he said, he seemed quite disappointed. Terribly deflated and ready to move on with his life. Besides, it's not like you two were in love or any of that sappy stuff right? It was just sex. Carnal desire because admit it, Stiles is hot. The way he looks, those moles, his long slender neck, the brown eyes... The way his pupils dilate when he's angry. That blush that gets you wondering just how far it goes and above all, his scent. The way it just shifts every five minutes, each one distinct and even better than the other. That's just..." He snapped out of his reverie to see Derek staring at him with a weird look on his face, not needing his wolf senses to tell Derek was seething with anger. He stepped back, smiling slightly as he turned off the stove. "I uhh... Made this for you so... Enjoy it." he says cautiously and made his escape, trying to appease Derek somehow. He just couldn't believe he'd lost it in there considering how sure he was that he had the strength to hide the desire he felt for the human.
Yes he was jealous that Derek had fucked Stiles. Had been nauseous when he stepped into the loft two days ago and got hit by the evidence of their fuck session but he had decided then that it didn't matter who had Stiles now because he was going to be Stiles' last. Stiles Stilinski was going to belong to him in every way a person can belong to another and he was going to work for that.
