Chapter 4

That poor Jeep…

Once Stiles was showered, feed and ready for school he jumped in his beloved jeep and drove.

Stiles was still tired as fuck, but driving gave him the opportunity to put that aside and focus on the road. Stiles had always loved to drive, and he was good at it too, but that was only one of his many skills. Unlike Scott, and pretty much all of his friends – the ones who are still alive that is – he wasn't a creature of the supernatural. He didn't have claws or fangs or the power to freaking electrocute people! But he didn't actually need all of that. He was an all human teenager, and he was still bad ass!

He'd survived all kinds of weird shit that had been going down in this damn town. Sure, he'd been hurt, both physically and mentally and all, but he hadn't died! Not yet, at least.

Although, going against the Calaveras, with a shitty plan and no plan B what so ever, might be his fall. Sure, they had a Kitsune, a coyote and two werewolves, and yes, one of them was an alpha, a TRUE alpha, but they didn't really know what they might find there, in freaking Mexico, except a bunch of evil hunters and Derek… hopefully.

They didn't have any actual evidence that Derek had in fact been abducted by the group of hunters, but it was their best shot and Stiles wasn't going to just sit around and wait anymore. They were going to get his big and beautiful Sourwolf back from those sons of bitches!

Stiles found himself squeezing the steering wheel. He tried to relax but it was difficult, NO, it was impossible to relax, while Derek was probably stuck in some basement, all tied up, being tortured… without a shirt… and sweating…

Stiles got a strange shiver all through his body that stopped at his midsection and when he looked down he discover the big-ass boner in his pants. He sighed. "Awesome…"

Stiles didn't freak though. Well, a little, since he was on his way to school and had to… deal with the issue before he arrived, but not at the fact that the reason to the issue was Derek, and his extreme beauty. He'd been attracted to Derek for quite a long time, and to guys in general even longer.

Being gay, bisexual or whatever, wasn't a problem for Stiles. It wasn't like he was in denial or anything. He'd actually tried to tell Scott a few times, leaving clues and small hints. But Scott – even if he is, and has always been, Stiles best bro, like a real brother to him – he wasn't exactly the smartest person he knew, so Stiles had stopped trying. And a while after that he'd heard from his father, quote: "You're not gay. Not dressed like that." After that Stiles gave up. He'd even gotten a little offended, like his dad actually thought that being gay was all about the way you dressed or the way you acted. Stiles knew very well that that wasn't really his opinion, but some part of him couldn't let that go, so he hadn't told his father either. But he had approved his looks, gotten a sense of style… Which only proved right of his father's saying, but still…

Stiles really didn't think telling his friends, stepping out of the closet so to speak, was a problem. But neither was it important. The important thing, and the problem right now, was finding Derek and getting him back.

His penis jumped and he cursed himself for even bringing the man up again. Stiles then realized that he was but a minute away from school, and his problem was far from gone, so he took a turn, into a very small road practically in the woods where, hopefully, no one would walk by. If someone, against all odds, did walk by and see him they would probably be, either, one: terribly disgusted, two: utterly horrified, or, three: scarred for life, but Stiles was desperate and was praying that it would be neither.

Stiles pulled his pants off, all the way down to his shoes, not wanting to mark them for the whole school to see, and his tee, just to be safe. And there he was, naked, in the Jeep, looking down at his aching penis that was begging to be touched.

Stiles wasn't small, neither was he gigantic. He was perfectly average. He knew this, not only because he googled every little thing he'd ever been curious about, but because he'd, accidentally of course, seen the guys in his team… Naked… in the showers… Okay, so Stiles had been peeking a little at his team players, so what? It was perfectly normal to compare, and by that he knew perfectly well he wasn't small. In fact, Stiles was actually bigger that some guys. He wasn't going to name them… BUT, he'd gotten quite a good look at the goalie, Danny – who was hotter than most and who had absolutely nothing to be ashamed of – and, believe it or not, Stiles was bigger than him. Not nearly as sexy, oh no, far from, but he had a bigger dick!

I made Stiles feel kind of proud.

On day, Stiles even caught the guy watching him in the showers, and the only thing going through Stiles' mind at that moment was that, no matter how much he doubted it sometimes, he WAS attractive to gay guys!

Stiles suddenly felt full of confidence, and when his dick – still hard, if not even harder – twitched again, he immediately grabbed it with his right hand and started moving it around. He started slow and carefully, twisting and turning – experimenting, although he knew every little thing there is to know about masturbation – putting his thump on the head and moving it in circles. He started moaning low, and the image of Danny in the shower popped up in his mind, while Derek had never left. He started mixing them together in his head and, within seconds, he was fantasizing about Derek, tied up in the boy's locker room, with a wet, newly shower Danny, chocking on his ginormous dick. Stiles detected some jealousy developing inside of him, but it was quickly overlooked by the huge amount of hormones that he possessed.

As his fantasy speeded up, so did Stiles. Imaginary-Danny started to bob his head up and down, faster for every time, and Stiles tightened his grip and stroked himself up and down, less carefully for each second.

"…ohmygod…" Stiles murmured in pure pleasure, eyes shut, concentrating on the picture of Derek, tied up on some wall, moaning as Danny worked him with his sweet heavenly mouth… that Stiles would love to play Dora the explorer in some day…

Stiles saw, in his mind at least, how close Derek was, how close he was to shooting his load down the goalie's throat. It was overwhelming and it drove Stiles over the edge.

When he opened his eyes again he had cum all over his heaving chest, feeling exhausted – the lack of sleep from the night before didn't exactly help. Good thing I took my shirt off. He thought, as he grabbed a pack of tissues he had in the backseat. He'd forgotten why he'd even put them there in the first place, but they were perfect for times like this.

After cleaning up his mess he put his clothes back on and sprayed himself with some old perfume he found by the tissues – although Scott, the true alpha, would probably figure out what he'd been doing anyway, smelling good couldn't hurt, right?

Stiles felt a vibrate and heard a short bling, coming from his pocket. It was a text from Scott.

Scott: Dude, where r u?

Stiles' frowned, confused, but then he saw the time and panicked.

"FUCK!" He yelled, not caring if anyone heard him because in a second he'd already driven off.

Stiles arrived at school, ran through the empty hallways and, as discreet as possible, snuck into class. He spotted a place next to Scott, who looked at him in disbelief, and Stiles rolled his eyes and made his way towards him. Stiles thought that Miss Martin, who writing something on the board, haven't noticed him – not yet at least – but no. Of course not…

The second Stiles sat down, which he manage to do a little extra loud, she stopped her writing and turned around. "Mr. Stilinski?" She said and raised an eyebrow, eyes hooked on him. "Overslept, did you?"

"Uh… Yeah, kinda'… Sorry." He said, trying on his best innocent look. In the corner of his eye he saw Scott, sniffing lightly in the air, then making a face that looked to be a mix of disgust and… you know, when you're trying really hard not to laugh? Stiles almost did himself, but quickly snapped back into trying to look innocent, which probably didn't work. Freakin' werewolf powers… He thought to himself.

Miss Martin sighed quietly. "Come here." She said, and wrote something on a piece of paper and Stiles knew exactly what it was. He forcefully stood up and walked over to the front desk, across from his teacher. She put her left hand on top of it, leaned over and held the note up in front of him. "Since you're one of Lydia's close friends, I don't want to give you this." She spoke with a lower voice, not wanting the rest of the class to hear.

"…But…?" Stiles said carefully, knowing his teacher wasn't finished.

"But, Stiles, you were almost twenty minutes late, and, unless you have a pretty good excuse, that is not acceptable, therefore, I have to. What kind of a teacher would I be if I didn't?"

"The best teacher to ever walk this earth…?" Stiles tried. Miss Martin gave it a small laugh, but Stiles already knew his destiny.

"More like the worst." She said and handed over the note. "Detention is one hour, right after school, right…"

"Here, yeah, I know." Stiles interrupted, went back to Scott, sat down and slammed his whole body against the table, still exhausted. The last thing he needed right now was detention. For some reason, Stiles just didn't feel the urge to do anything but sleep, and now he couldn't go home until an HOUR later today. Yes, he'd had a few detentions in his time, but it still sucked.

Miss Martin went on with her writing on the board and talked – about the subject that Stiles couldn't remember – for the rest of the lesson, while pretty much the whole class took notes. Except Stiles, he simply didn't care right now. He was tired, too tired to think, and the only thing going through his mind was still…

Stiles sighed.

Derek.

They stood, leaning against their lockers, while everyone else made their way through the hallway, heading to whatever class they were heading to. Stiles couldn't care less. He had other things occupying his thoughts. Or, just one thing, really. Well, not a thing…

"…and I just don't get it, you know? Like, do they expect…" Stiles didn't even listen. "…that shit is impossible. The only person who scored full on that was Danny. And Lydia, of course. Anyway, why were you late? I mean, I can pretty much smell what you've been doing, and… some old perfume, but still? Stiles?"

Stiles didn't really hear him, it was like the pounding of his thought blocked out the world going on around him, but he suddenly jumped out of it, when Scott started snapping his fingers in his face. Stiles blinked, like he'd just woken up to the bright light from his bedroom window, and looked at Scott. "Wh…what?"

"Dude, what are you doing?" Scott said. "It's like you're not even here. Didn't you hear anything I just said?"

Stiles tried to think for a sec, but the he just shook his head instead..

Scott looked at his with concern. "Are you okay? You just seem so… off."

"What? Who, me? No, I'm fine! It's just… I'm just," Stiles said, took a breath and slowed down, because he was talking suspiciously fast. "worried. About, you know… Mexico." And Derek…

"Well, so am I" Scott said. "But it's gonna be okay. At least we have a plan." He paused, trying to catch Stiles' eyes in his. "A good plan."

Stiles didn't believe it for a second, he knew his best friend was just trying to get him in a better mood. "It's a shitty plan. Malia, Lydia, and even Isaac, was right."

Scott's face immediately sunk, eyes looking down on his black converse. "Yeah, about that…" Stiles turned his head, almost giving himself whiplash, to look at the alpha. Oh, no… Bad news is coming. Stiles just wanted to cover his ears and ignore whatever Scott was going to tell him, but his curiosity – and hatred for not knowing things going on around him – would eventually kill him.

"I… don't think Isaac is coming. With us. To Mexico…"

"WHAT!?" Stiles yelled, drawing odd looks towards the two of them.

"We, kinda', had a fight… Sort of…" Scott said as low as possible, the word guilt practically written all over his puppy face. Stiles sighed and gave his bro a look he should know pretty damn well by now.

"I didn't do anything!" Scott claimed. "We just had a… disagreement. And it wasn't a physical fight – Isaac's too smart to ever challenge his alpha." Stiles doubted it. "Anyway, he ended up jumping out the window and then he was gone."

Stiles frowned. "So what? Can't you just… sniff your way to him? You're a TRUE ALPHA, for Christ sake."

"Yeah, but I, err… I think he need some space…"

"Some space?" Stiles began and, by the look crossing Scott's face, he knew where this was going. "You think he needs… some space!? No, the only thing he needs, is to go to freaking Mexico, save Derek from the freaking Calaveras, even if I'm gonna FREAKING DRAG HIS CURLY, BLONDE WEREWOLF ASS OVER THERE!" Stiles yelled, high enough for the whole school to hear, and Scott just tried to ignore him as much as possible, trying on an innocent smile to the few people walking by and staring at them.

"Look, if he doesn't want to come, I won't force him. And, since you can't find him without me, neither will you." Scott said, still watching the small amount of people running through the hallway, heading for class.

"I can always ask Malia" Stiles shot back.

"But you won't."

"Why not?"

"Because, I said so!" Scott yelled, probably glad the hallway was completely empty. He stood face to face with Stiles, who looked a little shocked. He was still pretty furious, but his sleepiness from earlier was back and he suddenly felt one of those why-do-I-even-care emotions. But, with curiosity climbing up his neck like a poisonous spider, he felt the urge to ask:

"What were you guys even fighting about?"

Scott, who was already walking away, stopped for one holy second of silence, before he answered.

"Allison."

Stiles fell, a hundred miles right down into shame and regret. Now he would feel responsible for any sadness Scott might feel for the rest of the day – even the rest of the week – but he followed his best friend to class, without another word from either of them.

So… Hey?

YES, OKAY, this chap took me, what, a MONTH or whatever, and yes, it's partly 'cause I write as slow as a fucking turtle, but I had ZERO inspiration! And, since school has started some time ago (partly the reason for lack of inspiration, like, duh, it's school…), I haven't had the time, so, I'M SORRY!

But now, season 4 is over… *cries for 10 min or so*… which will hopefully make it easier to write now. Hopefully… I WON'T PROMISE SHIT!

GUYS, I'M NOT A GOD, OKAY!? I can't just SNAP my fingers and BAM! A new chapter has arisen from this holy fucknnnnn earth. NO! It's freaking hard, okay? Not that I've had any real complains or anything, but I bet I will. Still, you should tell me what you think so far, even if it's, like, nothing yet. I ALWAYS APPRECIATE IT, good, bad, whatever!

U should also follow me on twitter – I go all kinds of crazy over there sometimes!

Thx, bye

HURRICANE