Chapter 7 - Mouth

When Stiles came to, he was laying in a bed. His mind raced with alcohol-tainted possibilities of where he could be and who would most likely have come across him after he tripped in the woods.

"Mmmmh; where am I? Derek?" He sat up, groggily taking in his surroundings. If this was Derek's house, he must have fixed up part of it to make it comfortable. He lay in a plush, Queen-sized bed, nestled in the corner of the room. Above him was soft-looking, dark fabric draped from the ceiling, hanging down to frame him in. "This is cozy." He peered about the room but couldn't see much more considering the darkness. Next to the bed was a night-stand with a vase of peach-colored flowers… Stiles' curiosity got the better of him, and he soon found himself scooting to the edge of the bed to get a better look. He tentatively reached out his fingers to touch a petal, to see if they were indeed real flowers – when a voice sounded from across the room.

"Hands off."

"Derek! Just the man I was looking for! Why do you have flowers next to your bed? I'm assuming this is your bed – it's rather dark and gloomy but extremely comfortable, I could stay in this bed forever."

"They're Azalea Monkey Flowers; they were my sister's favorite. Why, exactly were you stumbling around the woods looking for me? And why in the hell do you smell like a distillery?"

"I just had a little 151 is all!" The boy laughed and started singing obnoxiously, "151 rum, pineapple juice and Malibu, caribou, get them all numb. Make baby girl come, out of her shell and raise hell, don't stop till the cops come!"

"You had a little eh?" Derek quirked an eyebrow up, "More like a lot… You know that shit is like 75 percent, right?"

"Yeahhh… I feel really good though," he laid back on the bed, stretching his arms out above his head and groaning loudly.

"Well… what did you want with me?" He inquired again. Derek had a pretty good theory as to what it was, but he was starting to question whether or not he actually wanted to know the reason behind Stiles' drunk wanderings.

"I… I know you heard me talking to my dad the other night, right? That's why you've been avoiding me? But… Derek, I need you."

"Need me to what, make you feel better?" He knew he shouldn't have said it, but he couldn't help himself. His feelings were hurt and he was acting like a ten year old, but he wanted to get his point across to Stiles.

"Ouch, that stung." Stiles gaped at him for a second, then closed his eyes tightly, looking pained. "That's not why I need you. There is an us."

"What did you say?" Derek perched on the edge of the bed, eyeing the boy suspiciously.

"You heard me, wolf-man. There is an us. I think… I think I'm kind of in love with you."

"You're drunk, Stiles." He moved to get up, but a hand frantically grabbed his arm, holding him in place. He let himself be held.

"Yeah but… drunken words are sober thoughts! I may have had a lot to drink but I know what I'm saying!" Stiles tugged hard on Derek's arm, pulling him down into a sloppy kiss.

The wolf reciprocated, although he knew he shouldn't for many reasons. Things began getting heated, and Stiles seemed to grow increasingly talented with his mouth as the seconds flew past. As instinct flared up in his gut, and he leaned into the boy suddenly, dominating the kiss, harshly pressing their lips together and sliding his tongue into the other's mouth. He felt a hand roughly fist his hair and heard three words he never expected Stiles to utter.

"Fuck me, Derek." The boy whispered, drawing a whimper from the werewolf. Stiles watched as a mixture of emotions crossed Derek's features, first surprise, then an intense hunger, followed by a look of inner-debate, and lastly a pained look, as if whatever his response was going to be would hurt him greatly.

"Stiles…" He whispered, "We can't. I shouldn't have even-"

"Please? Derek... I've wanted you to plug that fat cock in my ass ever since I got a look at it that night in the shower. It's all I can think about…"

"Stiles…" Derek whispered shakily, digging his claws into his own thighs, and biting down on his tongue to distract himself from the overwhelming desire coursing through him. He hadn't yet gotten a handle on the whole alpha thing and his power of will literally felt like it was going to snap in half.

"But I want you so bad it aches, Derek… Fuck… Come on, you can shove me up against the wall if you want? I know how much you'd love that."

"What you're doing right now is incredibly dangerous, you need to stop –"

"Any way you want it; doggy style? Am I allowed to make dog jokes? Oh my god I can just imagine the way your abs would flex while you're pounding me… I'd have to sneak a peek for sure! Or I could put it in my m-"

"STILES!" He roared, eyes flashing red, elongated teeth hovering just above Stiles' face. He panted heavily; his back heaving with the effort it was taking him to breathe, to regain control of himself.

The only thing that brought him down from the intense struggle with the wolf was the harrowing fear in the boy's eyes. He could feel the body beneath him shuddering as he looked on, keeping his own eyes locked to Stiles'.

"I'm sorry, I…" Derek backed away slowly, putting some distance between the two of them. It terrified him – that he could lose control like that so simply around the boy – someone he could so easily snuff the life out of… someone he cared so much about. "I'm not having sex with you tonight for three reasons. One – I wouldn't feel right taking advantage of you while you're clearly hammered. Two – You should be able to remember your first time, and three – I don't know what I would do to you, and that scares me…" Derek paused, sniffing the air. "Do I smell blood? No wonder I fell into such a frenzy. Are you hurt?"

"I uhhh… must have hurt myself when I fell earlier."

"You're lying."

"Shit." Stiles tried his best to wriggle away as Derek tugged at his clothes, tearing his shirt in the process. "Hey! Watch it; I'm not made of money!"

"I'll buy you a new one. Show me."

Sties knew that the man knew; and he knew that now he had no choice but to show Derek what he had done. In a way it was gratifying – since Derek had been a big part of the reason he had done it to begin with, but at the same time he was immensely embarrassed. He sighed loudly as the wolf stared him down expectantly, and unbuttoned his pants, awkwardly shimmying out of them with his back still flush against the bed. His pant leg stuck to the now-dried blood that had seeped its way through the poorly wrapped gauze, and it stung a bit, making him wince as he tugged it free.

What Derek wanted to say was 'what the fuck did you do that for?', but judging by the expression on Stiles' face he knew better than to ask. He silently unraveled the wrappings and inspected the cut closely, rising to go fetch some supplies.

"I'm sorry… I should have been there."

"It's fine; don't blame yourself. I meant what I said earlier, you know. I do lo-"

"I know. Just relax; I'll go get some stuff to clean that up properly for you." When he returned, Stiles had fallen into a deep sleep, sprawled out in a hilarious manner, with his legs dangling over the edge of the bed. Derek chuckled to himself, crossed the room, and proceeded to clean and dress the cut. 'It's a sizable slash; he must have really put some force into it…' Derek sighed, finishing up with some tape, and tidied up his mess.

Just then, he heard Stiles' cell phone ringing. The boy stirred in his sleep a bit, but did not wake. Derek dashed about, looking for the offending item, and finally found it in the discarded jeans' pocket. He touched the screen to answer the call…

"Hello?"

"Derek? Where the hell is Stiles? He's not at his house and there's blood and broken glass all over the place, and I'm supposed to be keeping an eye on him. Wait, why do you have his phone?"

"He's here with me, dumbass. He's asleep for the night; I'll bring him to you in the morning."

"...any idea what happened?"

"I'm not sure exactly what happened at his house, but he arrived here morbidly hammered with a huge gash in his leg. I think it's safe to say he had a bit of a breakdown… which wouldn't have happened had you been there like you were supposed to be."

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry, oh shit. This is my fault! I just wanted to spend a few hours with Allison after school, and I thought he might like a little bit of time to himself since everyone has been kind of crowding him the past few weeks! I didn't know he would up and do something like this! What's he doing at your place, anyway?"

"I found him blundering around in the woods, lost. He heard me approaching and tripped and knocked himself out. Maybe you should spend a little less time thinking with your dick and a little more time taking care of your best friend that has a serious self-harm complex!"

"Oh, Stiles… I promise I won't leave him unattended again! He's okay, right? He'll be okay?"

"I patched him up and now he's passed out on my bed, snoring." Derek paused a second, thinking, "he doesn't usually snore."

"I know. Wait, how did YOU know that?!" There was a moment of silence as realization dawned on Scott, "Oh my god. Oh my god, you're the someone."

"Excuse me?"

"Stiles sent me a message saying he wanted to talk, that there was a 'someone' and he thought he fucked things up with them and… and now he's at your house in your bed, because he was stumbling through the woods drunk… he was probably looking for you! Holy shit, that's how you know that he doesn't usually… AHHH! I can't handle this. I can't."

"Scott, go to sleep. I'll talk to you tomorrow."

"Okay, but Derek?"

"Yeah?"

"At least now I know this wasn't totally my fault."

*click*

Song Credit: Bush - Mouth