Chapter 10: Careening

A/N: Started this on Monday, I've had a rather lazy writing weekend, lots of family and friends, but that is no excuse. So I'm very sorry if this is really late. Not to mention I've been reading a lot of Sterek fan fiction. Why do people keep linking amazing stories on Tumblr, I'll have no time left if I keep reading all of them. Well, anyway, Teen Wolf tonight, I'm excited, but before that I can at least get a few pages down before watching.

Soundtrack: I've been constantly listening to Lana Del Rey's album Born to Die, and spending particular time rerunning Video Games and Summertime Sadness. Those songs were constantly playing during this chapter.

Previously on Harmless: "Derek?" Stiles put an arm around Derek and tightened his grasp. "Thank you."

The darkness of night descended upon the scene on which there was running. The sound of metal against something hard met their ears, and out that sound came forth Derek. His face transformed while he was protecting himself against the paralytic power of the Kanima's claws with a sheet of metal. It seemed hopeless, or at least Derek thought so. He was giving his all, and yet that wasn't enough. Soon out of the hail of sparks shorn off the metal a new presence rose from the darkness; Chris Argent unloaded into the Kanima, the bullets doing nothing, not even fazing the beast. Derek had disappeared, thinking, no wondering why the Kanima had chosen to attack him so close to his den. He worried about the fact that the hunters were so close to his packs headquarters, not to mention close to where he met with Stiles on a regular basis. If the hunters got word of their relationship, whether they believe it to be sexual or platonic, they would use that person to get to him; as it stood they believed Stiles to be associated with Scott, and as long as that was all they knew that would benefit Stiles' safety greatly, not to mention being the Sheriff's kid didn't hurt. But was it enough?

Meanwhile Scott and Stiles were driving towards the fight, they had been following Chris Argent on Allison's suggestion. It had worked until there was a bed of nails preventing Stiles from driving, so Scott jumped out of the car. Scott arrived the Kanima was near Gerard, and without hesitation Scott threw the Kanima away from the old man, his threat against his mother ringing in his ears.

From a higher vantage point, Aidan watched the scene unravel, and watched as the actors flew from the wings. It was curious how everyone acted when no one thought someone was watching, but the night was far from over. Scott tore after the Kanima — after Jackson — unaware that Stiles was following in his jeep. They arrived at the Jungle, just a little too quickly for Aidan, but regardless he followed. They broke into the nightclub, which was Aidan's clue to follow them the legitimate way. The music was pulsing, the club was abuzz, and Aidan watched everything unfold. Becoming part of the fray of dancing, drinks, and music.

The Kanima was hovering over everyone in the rafters, stalking Danny remorselessly. Stiles bobbed his head to the music drinking his (just) coke with his straw. This was the last place he thought he'd be, but naturally he had to follow Scott and help him whenever possible. Soon people were dropping, the Kanima's venom taking effect. Derek eventually arrived, his face transformed and his eyes red, but Stiles doubted anyone would notice in the chaos. With quick reflexes Derek used his claws to tear open the Kanima's throat. Derek glanced at Stiles, looking perplexed momentarily before having to run as fast as possible to get away from the crowd before there was trouble, he thought he had slain the Kanima, he thought he was successful. He would love to hear his lover's explanation for being there that evening, even though his werewolf already knew he was following the Kanima with Scott, but to see Stiles squirm was divine.

However, back at the Jungle, Stiles was dealing with his own problem. His father. This was definitely not the way he wanted his father to find out he was involved with any other man. He had decided that he was bisexual, yes, but he didn't want his father to find out because he was at a gay bar. No, he wanted to be the one to tell him, and he wanted to be the one to introduce him to the Derek he knew, not the potential murderer that his father had temporarily imprisoned.

"Not exactly your type of club," Stiles' father said, his look of disbelief plastered on his face. He wanted to hear how Stiles was going to say to get out of trouble for being at another crime scene.

"Ah...," Stiles said, if he was going to do a mock coming-out conversation this would be it. "Well dad. There is a conversation we—"

"You're not gay," his father said.

"I could be!" Stiles said indignantly.

"Not dressed like that..." Which was met with Stiles feeling rather inadequate about the way he dressed, in his typical high school grunge. Through more conversation Stiles eventually gave his dad the best lie he could. He was there with Danny, to take his mind off his recent break up. That got his dad, and Stiles was happy that the lie worked, but his mind was racing. His father didn't believe he could be gay, which was basically a statement that shook him, bisexuality still meant part of him was gay, and thus he was feeling more worried about how he was going to break Derek and him to his father. Furthermore, now they had Jackson he his jeep, and they had to find away keep him from killing another.

A new dawn broke, Stiles and Scott had spent all night dealing with Jackson, Derek wasn't going to be pleased. His werewolf had promised to find him, and yet he had a suspicious feeling that Derek had discovered he was helping Scott deal with a still alive Jackson, but Derek didn't know it was Jackson. When morning light hit, Stiles felt worse, he wanted to see Derek, and he also wanted to deal with his father, but now that he had stolen a police prisoner-escort van, he was not going to get a desired response out of his father, and by nightfall on that long day, Stiles was served with restraining orders, that bastard Jackson had his father draw up against him.

Meanwhile back at den, Derek required the help of his betas. He knew that Stiles would never divulge the name of the Kanima, he had tested Jackson and Lydia was miraculously immune to both the venom of the creature and to the bite of an alpha. He need either Isaac or Erica to get close to either Stiles or Scott, Erica had this odd hatred for Stiles, maybe it was jealous or maybe it was annoyance. She chose to get close to Derek's lover. Who knows, Derek thought, maybe Stiles would slip and tell Erica something. He couldn't harm Stiles, or at least not in a way that could get information, but Erica could. He felt nauseous about that decision, but he had to protect his pack, that included Stiles, even if the teen was unaware of how much that name could mean to Derek's ability to stop the murderous creature, that had been inches from Stiles and could have killed him. If his lover wasn't going to protect himself and if Stiles wouldn't let Derek protect him, he was going to get the information one way or another. He was possessive, Stiles was his, Erica knew that, so whatever she did would be governed by that rule. Seriously injure Stiles and suffer his wrath. Derek didn't have time to train his pack to shift on will, he was going to be alone with the Argents and the Kanima on the loose. The Kanima was killing people, that was the priority, the Argents had some predictability, but the creature... It killed, that was the sole purpose of its existence. Erica actually managed to deal with the entire problem; Stiles had inadvertently through his bothering Lydia about Jackson clued Erica in to that fact that it was Jackson. This was too easy, Erica thought, but Stiles followed.

"You can't tell Derek!" That was all Stiles said to her as he followed her.

"I used to have the worst crush in the world on you..."

That would explain with her irritation towards Stiles, first it was Lydia that was in her way, and now it was her Alpha. Her freaking Alpha. She was beautiful, perfect, the whole werewolf-women package, and yet that wasn't enough. She was frustrated, but soon she had detention with everyone else and that was far from fun. She helped them with the reasoning why Jackson was the Kanima, see she could be useful outside of her claws.

They took Erica to Derek, the Kanima's venom running through her faster than they had expected. Derek had to break bones to increase the healing process. Stiles held her in his arms, this was his packtoo and when or if Scott joined it would be complete — he would be completely part of the pack. Her screams rung in their ears. "Stiles. You make a good Batman." Stiles stayed with her while Derek and Scott went to talk. Stiles knew what Scott was going to say. It was obvious, but not permanent. Stiles wanted it, so desperately, to be permanent.

Erica was healing in the makeshift bed Derek had made for her, Scott had left and Stiles texted his father, leaving only the words. "I'm Fine." His dad would take that as sign that he was going to sleep in his car somewhere, or sneak into Scott's house and stay there. The teen was obviously having issues, why else would he have gone to such extremes 'pranking' Jackson, or whatever that event was. He was angry, but he knew his son, he wouldn't get into trouble, and he would turn his phone off. He was just blowing off steam, that's what he did when his mother had died.

"You sure your father isn't going to bring down the cavalry?" Derek asked.

"Did you bring me a phone? I brought my laptop," Stiles said.

Obviously Stiles was avoiding the question, but Derek led Stiles to his room, and he fished into drawers and retrieved a cellphone. It was touch screen, perfect for what Stiles wanted Derek to be able to do, text him and talk to him, whenever he needed him. He plugged the phone in and made quick work of disabling the GPS and outfitting it with the best protective software. Danny had taught him loads and he was rather vigilant when the software tech was protecting his and his father's phone. It was done within a couple of minutes. Stiles quickly programmed his number into Derek's phone, gave himself a special ringtone, and a picture. He also programmed Scott and Erica into his lover's phone.

"Now that I'm finished," Stiles said. He climbed on to Derek's bed, sitting in the middle by the headboard. He took several long breathes, which came out withered. Everything since Derek had become alpha was crushing him — things were only getting worse, and even with Derek's warm arms wrapped around him there was still suffering ahead. Derek followed him, wrapped his arms around Stiles, holding his lover close. Derek knew just how much Stiles had gone through as of late, and he knew that the teen and him were more similar; this was just like his teenage years — dealing with things far greater than one should have to at their age. When he was about Stiles' age his family was caught in the fire Kate had started. The fire he felt responsible for.

Derek's hand rubbed clockwise around the middle of Stiles chest, the heat soothing. Stiles' calmed down once his lover began to coo in his ear, his werewolf's soft, warm breath against his ear. It was then, with Derek's soothing and reassurance that he broke. Tears welled in the corners of his eyes, falling ever so gently down the teen's pale cheeks. He leaned into Derek, not having the energy to both cry and keep himself upright. Derek nestled against Stiles, the tears sliding down his chin and becoming a part of the collar of his shirt.

Derek shifted them both so that they were lying down, with his feet he kicked away the covers. They were face to face, Stiles pale face reddened near his eyes because of the crying. His eyes were still layered in a thin coat of tears that shimmered before they collected and became droplets. They slid down his face, one even had the nerve to catch his lip and tumble from its peaks. Stiles looked up to catch Derek's eyes with his own, brown meeting green — the forest itself created between them. There was a smile, a simple smile on Stiles face before he pressed closer to Derek; their lips met softly. The pressure of the kiss, however, came from Stiles, he urged Derek forward, opening his mouth and moaning into his lover, pushing his werewolf to open his own and let forth his tongue. After all that was what Stiles wanted. He began to grind into Derek, he wanted to push his mind out of the picture, even if it was only for the rest of the evening. Between them, maybe for just that one little moment they could forget about the Argents, the Kanima, and maybe Stiles could forget his father's growing disappointment in him.

Stiles let forth another moan, seductively pressing himself into Derek's growing bulge in the front of his jeans. Stiles could feel Derek holding back, and with the softest of voices his lover said, "Please Derek". There was a pause, he attempted to find the words that would explain just how desperate he was for the physical. "Fuck me," Stiles gasped out, just as Derek's tongue found it positively intriguing to taunt the rest of his sanity away. The rest of his words left him, the rest of his will power bent, nearly crumbling, and he couldn't bear it. His body arched into Derek's, the scent of need coming off of him in waves that struck his lover's supernatural nose like a truck. Stiles body was lewd in the way it craved him, the way it arched and caved for his touch. Longing, longing for Derek to be in him.

Derek's hands made their way under Stiles' shirt, it wasn't the one he had give him, he had changed. He frowned, or scowled, whatever it was, it was disappointment. The man's hands had grown more callused than before, but they felt perfect against Stiles' smooth flesh. The warmth spread through him, until Derek lifted his shirt off his lover, the cold air met him, met all of him once Derek doffed his underwear and pants. With ease he removed his own clothes and pressed right close to his lover's body. Derek violently took his lover's mouth, throwing himself into Stiles and prying open the teen's mouth with his tongue.

"I said more," Stiles groaned out demandingly.

Derek response was a growl, one that put just an ounce of fear into his lover that made him jump. His werewolf reeled him back in and ground into him with a delicious amount of force. Their bodies countering each other, before Derek flipped Stiles onto his back and spread his legs. Derek lay on top of Stiles, his groin pressed into his lover's arse, tauntingly. Stiles thrust into his werewolf, wanting what he had asked for, but Derek took his time. He knew Stiles was using him for his particular brand of detachment from the world that Stiles at that moment didn't want to face, and oddly enough they both wanted that moment... This moment was just between them.

"Please," Stiles whimpered out. Derek could see his face, tears still clung to his eyes, but there was constant blush that reddened just under his eyes. He looked pathetic, dependent upon Derek's affection, as if the thought to Stiles of Derek not reciprocating would break him.

Derek with his long arms reached over the bed, and fiddle with something he had stored just under the mattress. Out of the corner of his eyes, Stiles could see a tube of something, but it wasn't long until the teen figured out what the tube was for. With his savage digits, Derek pressed his index finger into Stiles. He was being slow and agonizing, pulling the finger in and out rhythmically, eliciting a drowned out whimper from Stiles that flared Derek's inner wolf. The whimper practically screamed out please more. Another finger slipped in, another moan and whimper. He wanted something more than just a couple of fingers, but Derek was persistent and frustratingly slow. Once he had a third digit into Stiles they twitched in just the right direction to force out screams, not whimpers, nor moans. Screams of pleasure that shook through them both, Stiles head was thrown backward, and Derek growled pleased with himself.

Derek removed his fingers slowly, enjoying the sigh-moan that escaped his lover as he did so. Stiles' mouth opened and words formed in stutters, "P-P-Please M-m...more." His words were followed by a quick, pathetic, sound that was faint, and then a couple laboured breaths. Derek chuckled darkly as he lined himself up and filled the void Stiles had wanted him to. Every inch into his lover was received with an inhale of breath and a moan. Once completely in Derek thrusted in and out as Stiles pawed at the sheets, finally getting a grip on the sheets, and blanching his knuckles as he tightened around the fabric. His body moved with the loose fabric under his body, he moaned out, and Derek swore there were more tears in his eyes. Derek pressed closer to Stiles, practically laying on top of him, bring himself further into his lover. Stills grunted as he took Derek whole, before his lover started up again. Derek leaned in for a kiss, expecting Stiles to make the rest of his way there. Stiles leaned forward, wrapping his arms around his lover's neck and brought their lips together.

In amongst thrusts, Derek would grunt into Stiles' open mouth, just as Stiles would moan. They breathed into each other, sharing the air between them when their tongues weren't meshed together. Gyrating together, they seemed to find a pace that suited them both. Moans and growls broke from their union and egged each other on. But neither could continue for long, their edge had long been reached and each was straining to keep themselves going. Derek's face transformed, his eyes red, and the power of the waxing moon seemingly giving him more energy and speed, Stiles couldn't hold on any longer. Between them, he came, throwing his head backward and let out moan. Derek grunted, continuing his quickened pace before his lover launched himself at Derek's shoulder and bit down and yet didn't break skin. Stiles' arms tightened around Derek's neck, just before Derek came.

Their mouths came together again, the weight of each other against the other. Derek slid out from within Stiles, who only gave a whimper that drew them into another passionate kiss. The tears welled in the corner of his eyes again, their union only a temporary solution for his problems. Derek rolled them on to their sides, he releases his lover momentarily, pulling a rag from the floor and wiping off the aftermath from the pair of them before bring the cover's up to their shoulders. He pulled himself closer to his crying mate, held his head in his hands and wiped the tears with his thumbs.

"Everything will be alright," Derek whispered into Stiles. His face grew solemn, and he felt lucky Stiles had closed his eyes. He couldn't make that promise, the Argents, the Kanima, and God knows what else, all they had was this fleeting moment, and he wasn't going to be the one to spoil it with his stoic immovable face. Derek pressed his head against Stiles' chest, the human heartbeat — his human's heartbeat telling him a story. He was lulled into sleep, his wolven breathes steady and unyielding. Stiles wrapped his arms around Derek, not wanting to let him go, not wanting for them to be torn apart. He tucked his head down, resting his cheek against the top of his werewolf's head before he too sunk into sleep.