9. Healing Wounds and New Beginnings
Derek grumbled for the hundredth time as Stiles tried to fluff the pillows behind his back, again.
"Dammit Stiles! Leave it! I'm not helpless I can take care of myself!"
Derek sat with his arms crossed and a scowl on his face as Stiles rolled his eyes and walked away. He may or may not have grumbled something about ingrates and werewolves.
"I heard that! Wolf hearing, remember?"
Stiles threw a look over his shoulder that told Derek he knew exactly what he was saying and who could hear it.
Nearly three weeks had passed since the night of "the incident that shall not be named" as Stiles put it, and Derek's recovery was proving to take a lot longer than anyone could have anticipated. Derek's spine was nearly severed by Chris's bullet, something Deaton hadn't thought much of until he realized the letharia vulpine was having some major long term effects on Derek's ability to heal the severe wound. Derek was none too happy when he realized he was practically an invalid and would have to depend on others until such time as his body decided to recover. Add to that, Stiles' guilt over the whole thing was tearing him up inside. Needless to say, their initial joy at having overcome the obstacle of the nogitsune and discovering their feelings for each other was short lived to say the least.
Derek became more and more withdrawn as the days turned into weeks and he still couldn't take more than a few faltering steps on his own. He had never spent more than a few hours out of commission in his life and this new vulnerability was not doing wonders for his self-esteem. He'd spent years watching his uncle waste away in a wheel chair while waiting to see if he was ever going to recover and that had left a terrible taste in his mouth. It had done things to Peter's mind and Derek was scared of going down that same path. Besides, how was he supposed to take care of himself much less anyone else, especially Stiles, if he couldn't even stand on his own two feet for more than five minutes without shaking like a new born foal. There was no way he was going to saddle Stiles with having to take care of him if he didn't recover. This of course meant he had pulled back from Stiles almost instantly.
Stiles of course, was devastated when he realized what was happening to Derek. His guilt weighed on him heavily because he knew it was going to be awful for Derek to have to depend on anyone for help and he wanted to be the one to be there for him. Stiles could be just as stubborn as Derek in his own right and no matter how many times Derek yelled at him or threw his pillows at him and told him to leave and go get a life, Stiles stayed. He had pretty much told his dad not to expect him home until Derek was back on his feet and after his dad stared at Stiles for a few minutes he never said a word and went about his day. Stiles sort of thought his dad was so happy to have him back, alive, and not a demon fox, he didn't much care anymore what Stiles did so long as he was around to do it and checked in every day at least twice.
Stiles was currently busy making dinner for the two of them trying not to think about how happy he had been with Derek's arms wrapped around him while kissing him senseless only a few short weeks ago. He'd never felt so alive but from the moment Derek realized he was out of commission, he had been totally hands off. Stiles felt like he'd been shown a missing part of himself he hadn't even known was absent, making him understand for the first time what life and love was supposed to really feel like and then having it cruelly snatched away in some big cosmic joke on his soul. The joy he'd felt in those moments made the loss of it even more profound. He slammed a pot down on the stove as though such a feeble act could make it all better.
Derek lay propped up in the bed, his own misery made worse by the sadness, hurt, and anger he could virtually taste coming off Stiles. He knew he was getting stronger but the process was so slow he had no idea how long it would take for him to be 100%. Derek's pride when it came to Stiles, who couldn't even stand still long enough for toast to pop, would not allow him to ask Stiles to wait for him. The whole idea of them had been a stupid one anyway he berated himself with for the hundredth time. He should have known there would be no happy ending for him, but for one brief shining moment he had dared to hope. Someone upstairs must really not like him. He wished he knew what he had done in a previous life to warrant such torture in this one so he could make amends and hopefully get on with this one. Preferably with a little happiness attached to it.
Frustrated, Derek scooted to the edge of the bed and struggled to his feet using the nightstand as leverage. He could balance pretty well now, it was only when he tried to walk that the problem with his spine was obvious. The nerves connecting his brain to the muscles in his legs that told them what to do had been severed and he was like a toddler having to retrain his brain and muscles to work together and learn to walk all over again. Thankfully he didn't have to wait for his body to develop the muscles at least. Derek didn't want to complain because if it had been anyone without his werewolf healing, they would either be dead or facing the fact they would never walk again. The idea that it could have been Stiles turned his stomach and took most of the sting out of his own situation. Derek would rather it be him a hundred times over. He just wasn't going to let his situation turn Stiles into a nursemaid.
Stiles turned and saw Derek standing and concentrating on taking small steps. His heart jumped in his throat but he didn't make a sound or move to help him. Derek kept to the wall using it for support and shuffled his feet like an old man across the floor. One step… two… three… Stiles was now holding his breath, the pot of water he set to boil completely forgotten as he watched Derek struggle so valiantly with something most people took for granted every day. He watched as Derek nearly fell on the fifth step making Stiles take an involuntary step toward him but stopped before the movement could distract him. Derek righted himself at the last second and paused, panting to catch his breath.
Stiles watched as Derek hung his head in frustration. It was so profuse he could almost taste it in the air even without werewolf senses. The anger he had been feeling toward Derek dissipated as he stared at him struggling. Stiles just wanted to rush to him and bear hug him until the sun went down but any attempt at physical contact Stiles had tried to initiate since they discovered Derek wasn't healing like normal had been met with abrupt rejection.
Sweat beaded on Derek's forehead and upper lip as he turned to start making his way back to the bed his energy already starting to wane after only seven steps. He leaned on the wall to catch his breath looking at the bed and dreading the seven steps back to it. He cursed inwardly at all the injustices in his life and he momentarily grasped that anger like he had in the not too far past and used it to propel him forward the last few steps before he collapsed in a heap face down on the mattress, panting with the exertion.
Stiles could no longer reign himself in. Turning off the stove, he crossed the distance separating him from Derek and literally flung himself across Derek's backside and wrapped him in a bear hug like his life depended on it. The wind whooshed out of Derek's lungs at the unexpected weight that just dropped on him and he grunted out, "What the hell, Stiles?"
Stiles voice was muffled when he answered because he was burying his face between Derek's shoulder blades sucking in the scent of him like a drowning victim gasping for air, "I can't take it Derek! You can't push me away anymore! You don't get to do decide that! I won't allow it dammit!"
Derek managed to turn himself over and was in the process of trying to disentangle his limbs from Stiles when his lips were seized in a bruising kiss that sucked the air out of his lungs. Stiles was pressed to him like peanut butter on warm toast and he groaned wanting nothing more than to give in to the sudden and nearly overwhelming rush of desire that flooded his body. It took every ounce of his reserve he had left to grip Stiles arms and manage to pull away enough to gasp, "Stiles! Stop, we can't… we can't do this, not now. It's not… I don't even… I don't even know if I can ok," his voice trailed off miserably.
Derek barely voiced his fears out loud. The real fear he had kept buried from everyone including himself. Besides feeling weak and useless physically making him an unfit protector, he didn't even know if he could still perform in bed to be able to satisfy one perpetually horny teenager. Before he'd been shot he was basically running around at half-mast anytime Stiles was even in the same room with him, but there hadn't been so much as a twitch out of his dick since his spine was nearly severed and he was terrified he had seen his last boner. Not a profound and world changing worry to some, but a legitimate one to him nonetheless. The fact that it didn't stop his brain and the rest of his body from wanting more only made it that much worse. To have Stiles so close… his smell, his smile, the curve of his neck bent so enticingly in front of him, and he couldn't do a damn thing about it. It was as if the universe had conspired to construct his own personal piece of real estate in hell and dropped him smack dead in the middle of it. Stiles all wrapped up and willing and his dead, stupid dick unable to cooperate. The unique irony of his situation was not lost on him. It had taken the fear of Stiles dying to make him face up to the true depth of his feelings for him, compelling him to take the bullet meant for Stiles and it was that same bullet that left him basically fucking dick-less because of it. His pride was nearly non-existent at this point and he had to try and salvage what little left he could while trying to save Stiles a life of misery stuck with a broken werewolf.
Stiles watched as a myriad of emotions ran across Derek's face until his expression finally settled into the pinched look he'd been getting for weeks that told him he was about to get rejected again. Something Stiles didn't even know he was holding onto snapped and all logic, reason, and restraint left him. The only thing left in its wake was want, desire, and unbending, wild, determination.
"No fucking way Derek! Not this time! Do you honestly think I give a damn if your dicks broken, or your back, or any other piece of your anatomy! None of that matters to me! I just need you… you stupid Sourwolf! All I need to know is that you love me as much as I love you!" Stiles snarled sounding so much like a wolf himself, Derek was shocked into temporary submission.
Stiles took advantage of Derek's sudden acquiescence and used both hands, and strength that surprised both of them, to rip Derek's shirt off then slam their mouths back together before Derek could come to his senses. He gripped Derek's head letting his fingers tangle in his dark locks tightly to prevent him from escaping as his tongue stroked along the inside of Derek's lips making them both shudder.
Derek's heart slammed into his rib cage at the onslaught of Stiles to his senses. The taste of him on his tongue… the aroma of his arousal filling the spaces around them… the sensation of his weight pressed into him… the words 'I love you' from Stiles lips still ringing in his ears. Derek's whole world narrowed down to the one boy currently slaying all his defenses until his soul was laid bare and the fight went out of him. All that was left behind was the need to be touched and loved and to hell with the consequences. This boy, Stiles, was his whole world and he'd been delusional trying to make himself believe he ever had a chance in his-personal-brand-of-hell of ever letting him go. If the universe saw fit to put Stiles in his path and fill him with an all-consuming need for him, who was he to argue.
Once the decision was made it was like a tightly drawn rubber band was suddenly released inside him to finally settle back in its rightful place. Derek gripped Stiles to his chest, wrapping his hands around his back letting them slide under his t-shirt to make contact with the smooth skin hiding from him underneath. He angled his head and lifted it off the bed to press his mouth more firmly to the hungry one now devouring him and the dam broke inside him and a low growl, nearly a whine, escaped him. He released his claws long enough to shred the material separating Stiles skin from his own then retracted them to run his blunt nails across the expanse of exposed skin and he could feel the gooseflesh beneath his hands as Stiles quivered above him.
Stiles senses were no less filled with Derek. The feel of Derek's overwarm skin heating him on the outside to match to ever building fire burning on the inside, the silkiness of his hair as he threaded his fingers through it repeatedly, or the pounding pulse beneath his fingertips and the rasp of stubble when he cupped that perfect jaw to deepen their kiss even further. Stiles had been slowly drowning and hadn't even known it, and now he was gifted with the life sustaining oxygen his body needed and craved making him gasp as he breathed Derek in and out of his lungs. Stiles had never known or wanted anything or anyone so completely in all his life.
Stiles worked his mouth along Derek's jaw and neck, sucking and licking his way downward fascinated by the way the little red marks he made healed and disappeared as he watched and moved on to the next piece of golden skin. Derek alternated between throaty growls and whines that sent pulses of pleasure straight to Stiles dick every time he heard them because he was wrenching those sounds of pleasure out of him. Stiles met Derek's eyes. Emotions and unspoken words were understood by each in that clash of glowing amber and electric blue.
Derek stared in awe as Stiles worked his way downward across his abs making the muscles twitch everywhere those lips touched. There was no trace of the awkward boy Derek knew, but a man in control, and Derek had never been more turned on. He watched as Stiles' sinewy muscles bunched beneath his skin as he worked slowly lower across his stomach, his tongue dipping into his navel and leaving a wet trail down the line of hair to his waist band. Derek sucked in his breath as Stiles continued lower, his not breath on him through the denim of his jeans. Derek shuddered when Stiles mouthed him through the material, no longer able to keep his eyes open as he tossed his head back at the molten desire burning a trail up and down his spine and sending sparks along his nerves out to his fingers and making his toes curl.
Stiles fit his hips between Derek's knees as he popped the button on his jeans and slid the zipper downward, his own breath ragged as he watched Derek's reactions to his every touch. He had never felt so in control of anything before. Peace and stillness had settled over him even with the burning heat that made him ache with need. Having Derek all to himself like this was better than any amount of Adderall or drug in the world. His sole focus was on the man beneath him, taking in every sound of pleasure, every gasped breath pushing him forward and urging him onward. He gripped the waist of Derek's jeans and pulled them downward taking his boxer briefs with them. He moved long enough to remove them all the way placing kisses along Derek's inner thigh working his way back up as he settled back into his original position between his knees.
Derek shivered as the combination of the cool air and the heat of Stiles gaze settled over his skin. He shook with the amount of vulnerability he felt as Stiles lips worked their way up his inner thigh and he reached down and carded his fingers through the soft waves of Stiles' hair, his nails lightly scratching the scalp making him hum in pleasure at the simple touch. A moment of doubt flashed through his mind as Stiles reached the apex of his thighs but was quickly lost in an abyss of pleasure when the wet heat of Stiles mouth closed over him making him buck his hips involuntarily.
Stiles grinned triumphantly around the cock in his mouth because Derek didn't even realize how hard and full he was. The weight and texture of it making Stiles' mouth water. Stiles knew Derek would eventually make a full recovery, it was just his own belief that he never deserved anything good in life that made him doubt it himself. Anger at the people who had hurt Derek… his Derek… in so many ways that left him so emotionally scarred, made his next few strokes downward hard and swift making Derek grip the sheets and his hips buck up, nearly gagging him, but he only moaned and swallowed around him. The taste of Derek on his tongue had the effect of an exotic aphrodisiac on his libido.
Stiles licked down the shaft and slid his tongue along the line of his sac as he wrapped his fingers around it to slowly stroke up and down as he nuzzled his way lower until his tongue found the rim of tight muscle and he lapped at it making Derek jerk and yank on his hair.
"Shh…Derek" Stiles soothed him with a hand pressed to Derek's stomach grounding him, "Just trust me," he paused to gauge Derek's reaction.
Derek's ability to process rational thoughts had taken a leave of absence and his senses were being assaulted by Stiles from every angle. He made Derek feel like the inexperienced virgin instead of the other way around and it nearly unraveled him.
Derek stared down at Stiles as he gazed up at him from underneath a fan of long dark lashes, his mouth red and swollen with lips glistening with moisture, and flushed cheeks and Derek nearly lost it right then. When the words 'trust me' fell from those perfect lips he barely managed to nod his head in permission before Stiles swept down to lap at his entrance like a man starving. Derek was amazed not only with his skill but with the sudden realization that he did trust Stiles. He trusted him to be there for him, to have his back, to keep him grounded when he felt like he was about to come apart, but the most amazing thing he realized was that Derek trusted Stiles with his heart. He no longer felt a suffocating fear of letting him in even when his body knew what his brain refused to acknowledge. The wall he had spent so long building came crashing down around the ears of one Stiles Stilinski, the boy who had won his soul and who was now mastering his body making him writhe in pleasure with the press of his tongue inside him.
Stiles undid his own pants with one hand and had to squeeze the base of his dick hard to keep from coming on the taste of Derek alone. Not to mention the sounds he was spewing, making his pulse jump and his heart stutter in his chest. Stiles worshipped the body beneath him with his tongue, lips, and hands. He couldn't get enough of Derek, no matter what he did his need for more was nearly unbearable.
Derek gasped and his body clenched when he felt one of Stiles fingers slide into him, the way slickened from Stiles spit. Just as he began to adjust to the new sensation Stiles mouth closed around the head of his dick and rational thoughts left him again as the feeling of being filled and sucked rattled his senses off the rails. Another finger pressed into him stretching him wider until he could feel a not unpleasant burning with each drag of Stiles knuckles inside him. His wolf was pacing at the surface making his claws come out and tear the sheets as he gripped the mattress for support under him as he lifted his hips needing more of Stiles in him. A third finger joined the others pressing deep into him and stretching him wide, leaving him open and at Stiles mercy.
"God… Stiles…" Derek's voice was gargled glass as his hips thrust downward on those magical fingers, "p-please… I need…I need more… I need you… all of you!" He didn't care how needy he sounded, he'd gladly beg if it meant getting Stiles dick in him sooner.
"God Derek… you have no idea how gorgeous you are… I wish you could see what I see," and Stiles meant it, and not just his body but his heart and soul that was inherently good even though Derek did his best to hide it from everyone beneath a lot of huffing and puffing. Pun totally intended. It was all just window dressing to ward off the world, but Stiles had seen behind all of it.
Stiles slid his fingers out of Derek and hastily removed his jeans, sliding out the small bottle of lube he had taken to keeping in his back pocket in the hope of something just like this happening. He quickly slicked himself up and knelt on his knees between Derek's quivering thighs as he added more to his fingers and slid them back into Derek to slick his insides with it. He took a deep breath to steady himself and try to slow his heart rate that'd picked up speed exponentially now that the moment he never thought would happen was really here. Stiles pulled his fingers out of Derek and reached out with shaking hands to caress his stomach and slide them down to wrap around Derek's muscular thighs, lifting them and wrapping them around his waist.
Derek held his breath as he watched Stiles line himself up at his entrance, his chest expanding until it ached with the anticipation of waiting. Stiles paused and looked up at him, their eyes meeting and holding onto each other for several moments, emotions of love, trust, and desire clearly written there for each other to see, Stiles whispering, "I got you," and Derek's soft reply of, "I know."
Stiles heart clenched because he alone understood the amount of trust it took for Derek to allow himself to be this vulnerable with anyone. It was a precious gift and in many ways it was a first time for Derek as well and Stiles felt the full weight of the responsibility of guarding Derek's heart. He nodded once, silently conveying his understanding to him, and then they both shuddered as Stiles pushed forward and sank deep into Derek's body.
For a long moment Stiles didn't move allowing them both time to adjust to this newest sensation. When he did move the pace started slow, almost leisurely, as Stiles watched as he slid in and out of Derek. He was fascinated with the give and take of Derek's body as he moved within him. The tight heat of him was already urging him toward his release.
Derek reached and pulled Stiles forward over him needing to run his hands over him and have as much contact as possible. He brought their lips together in a slow and heady kiss. Their tongues thrusting into each other matched the rhythm Stiles set. Stiles gripped Derek's thighs and pushed them higher letting him sink even deeper and Derek gasped as Stiles dragged against a spot inside him that made his vision blur and his body shudder and jerk at the pleasure of it. Stiles forehead rested against his, his arms now on either side of Derek's head for leverage while sweat beaded on his brow and upper lip, concentrating as he picked up the pace so his movements pounded into that spot over and over again mercilessly making Derek grunt, growl, and writhe beneath him.
Derek's claws scraped red lines down Stiles' back making him hiss with the pleasure pain of it and sending jolts into his groin. "Ah… God… Derek… I'm… I'm not going to last…"Stiles panted his words into Derek's mouth as he kissed him again before Stiles reached between them with one hand and began to pump Derek at twice the speed he was feeding him his own cock.
Derek grunted and didn't know whether to push up into Stiles hand or bear down on his dick as it pushed deep into his ass. So he clung to Stiles, desperate and thrusting erratically seeking release of the blinding pressure building in his gut. It built as Stiles dragged across his prostrate. It continued building as Stiles pumped his cock with slick fingers from the pre-cum seeping out of him. It built as Stiles filled and surrounded him, Derek's very pores soaking up the essence of him as he pounded into him.
Stiles suddenly lurched and shoved hard into him, slamming to the hilt and Derek felt the first pulse of hot liquid pour into him before his own orgasm rocketed through him and shattered his soul into a billion pieces that flew out among the stars before drifting lazily back to earth as he came back to his senses.
Stiles tried to lift his weight off of Derek but the wolf gripped him and held him to his chest. His breathing was ragged and he could feel the aftershocks of Derek's orgasm squeeze him lightly and continue to milk him where they were still attached. He wrapped his arms under Derek's shoulders and listened to the man's heart as it settled into a steadier rhythm beneath his ear as he panted and tried to catch his breath. Their bodies were slick against each other with sweat and Derek's cum and Stiles shivered as Derek traced his fingers up his spine and into his hair to scrape at his scalp and back down repeatedly. Derek's legs were locked around his at the ankle and Stiles had never felt so connected to another person and not just in the physical sense. He didn't even care that he was lying in a mess on Derek's stomach he just wanted to stay like this forever.
Stiles eyes were closed and he was just drifting out of consciousness when he heard Derek whisper, "I got you too."
A/N: I hope you all have enjoyed reading this as much as I have enjoyed writing it. Just the epilogue left and Derek will get his chance to show off his skills to Stiles ;)
