Peace was a relative thing during heat, a minor concept Stiles only partially felt while being knotted, his coyote calmed by the knowledge that its Alpha wasn't going anywhere, his Omega instincts happy that he was being bred and that his partner's seed wasn't going anywhere.

Not that he actually could be bred, but there was no telling his instincts that.

Point remained that the few moments of clarity and calm that he felt over the week came when he had Derek's knot lodged inside him, the older man holding him close as he trembled with aftershocks and mini-orgasms that had him gasping against the back of Stiles' neck and spurting in him more. The teenager had the absent thought of where all that ejaculate went when the other man was finally able to slip out, only to decide it didn't matter. He was sated, happy, calm, at peace, and he was gonna enjoy every second of it until his body keyed itself up and demanded another round again.

Although...

He didn't feel quite like he did post-sex. Okay, yeah, he was happy and satisfied and calmed and his coyote was relaxed and taking it easy, but...

But his skin didn't feel quite as hot, his insides no longer simmering the way they did mid-knotting, only for the fire to heat up and make him desperate gain. Even after just coming he'd still feel the buzzing inside to orgasm again, to be filled once more. But he didn't that time. He just felt... Completely satisfied.

Holy shit. His heat had finally broken. He was done, it was over. No more being awoken by his arousal, no more desperate rutting, no more wanton pleas, no more shameless begs to be filled and fucked and knotted, no more sex—

No more sex.

No more sex with Derek.

Ever.

Because with his heat having broken he was out of excuses for them to sleep together. The Alpha had agreed to service him and had implied several times over the week that it's all that'll be, helping Stiles with his heat so no one takes advantage of him the way they had Derek.

Shit.

Fuck.

Shit again because seriously. That sucked.

His good mood disappeared as he realized that his heat being over also meant he'd have to go home soon. He'd be leaving the little bubble they'd created over the week, their own little world where Stiles could pretend he meant more to Derek than just his little brother's best friend and therefore someone he needed to watch over until he found a mate. He was gonna go home to his own room and his own bed and have to sleep by himself with no snuggles or spooning or anything. He was gonna have to watch Star Wars by himself and fight for control of the remote and make his own—and his family's—meals. He was gonna be alone, no Derek, no Alpha, no mate. Just plain old Stiles and his unappealing vanilla scent.

His coyote let out a whimper and the human part of him wanted to do the same. Instead, he pressed his lips together to hold back tears, masking his scent with contentment and happiness at a recent orgasm and being knotted.

A nose nuzzled at the back of his neck, ran along his hairline, warm breath ghosting over his skin and making him shiver. "I can feel you thinking," Derek rumbled in a voice roughened by sex and sleepiness.

Stiles swallowed hard, looking down at the other man's hand as he gently held it in his grasp, their fingers entwined. He wasn't gonna have this in a couple days, a thought that made his chest feel like it was breaking and the shards of his ribs stabbing at his heart. But he couldn't say any of that, couldn't voice his sadness over leaving and how desperately he wanted to be with Derek beyond his heat. The older man didn't want him the same way and it would just make things awkward, especially since the next stage in his heat was another round of being super clingy. Snuggling up to a guy who'd just rejected you wasn't an appealing concept on any level, but it wasn't like Stiles would have a choice in that situation. Really his best bet was to just keep his mouth shut about all of it and lie.

"Just looking forward to a shower," he murmured roughly, taking advantage of being a coyote and being able to be dishonest in a convincing way.

A chuckle rumbled against his bare back, slightly jostling him. "You feelin' up to it?"

"No," he snorted, glad he was at least being honest about that. "But I need one."

"Want me to help you?"

He nodded, deciding to fully take advantage of any and all of Derek's help for the next couple days. Yeah, he was gonna take every opportunity given to him to have the guy touch him, hold him, show him any sign of affection, even if it was only in a platonic manner on his end. He was gonna enjoy his last moments of being able to pretend, of acting like the Alpha was his and that he was Derek's and that they were together and happy and in love.

He was gonna totally regret it all on Sunday when he went home—admittedly already regretted the whole thing a tiny bit at that moment—but he didn't care. He'd deal with the consequences when they came.

He snuggled further into the older man, played with his fingers, took solace in the peace he was finding. He focused on the rise and fall of Derek's chest against his back, on the trembles that still raced through him, at the pulsing he would feel every now and then in his passage and how they were getting weaker. He listened to their breathing patterns, their heart beats, the nuzzle of a nose snuffling over his neck and hair. He memorized the feel of Derek's leg between his, his muscular frame pressed against his leaner one, the shape of his hands and fingers, the curve of his cock. He glued it all inside his brain, never to leave, determined to keep it all so that on his loneliest nights and his darkest times, he could look back and remember that he at least had this, even if it wasn't real.

All too soon, Derek's knot deflated to the point where he could easily slip it out without hurting either one of them. Stiles felt a warm trickling along his crack, down one cheek, his mind supplying the knowledge that it was the Alpha's come spilling out. He felt a momentary sense of panic at the realization that it was leaking out of him, calming himself with the knowledge that he'd been filled countless times over the past few days so he shouldn't worry over not being—

No. He was a guy, goddammit. His Omega hormones could shut the fuck up about that whole being bred thing. Really the only issue with the ejaculate leaking out his still stretched hole was that it was creating a bigger mess on him and making him feel even grosser.

That shower sounded better and better with each second.

A hand pressed between his shoulder blades, gently pushing, and he allowed his still kinda boneless body to be rolled onto his stomach. He hitched a leg up as he got comfy, cradling his pillow on his folded arms and nuzzling his face into it, ready for a nap.

Only to feel his cheeks being cupped and spread apart.

He let out a weak groan in protest, trying to pull away, but the older man's grip was too strong. Cold air hit his stretched rim, his inner-walls, making him shiver, the trickle of Derek's come now sliding down his crack onto his balls.

Stiles felt a finger slip inside and he groaned louder, reaching down and swatting at the other man's arm. "No," he complained, turning his head so his voice wasn't muffled by the pillow. "No more. My heat's over, leave my poor ass alone."

He hadn't meant to let that bit of info slip out but it was too late. Whatever. Derek barely seemed to react, simply moving his free hand so his fingers were holding him open.

"I gotta make sure you're okay and that there aren't any tears inside you," he explained in his flat voice that Stiles totally hated and he wanted to punch the guy just to get some emotion out of him.

The finger pressed further inside and Stiles tensed up, hole trying to close and fight off the unwelcomed invader. He understood the point of it, that it was a necessary evil, especially after being repeatedly knotted and his pain receptors practically non-existent during his heat. After all, that's why he wanted a heat partner in the first place, to make sure he was okay and uninjured and wouldn't bleed to death from a tear inside himself that he wasn't aware existed. Didn't mean he had to like it though.

He buried his face in his pillow, the finger moving around, feeling along his walls. It was more methodical than sexual, reminding Stiles of similar medical exams he'd endure on a yearly basis, his doc needed to check his inner-glands for infection or growths, make sure all his parts were in working order. Derek acted with the same sure movements as his physician, the same behavior as someone who'd practiced it a lot.

Slightly raising his head, he clutched at the bottom of his pillowcase as he spoke. "I take it this isn't the first time you've done this."

"I checked you after every time I knotted you."

What the—?

His brow furrowed in confusion. "Where the hell was I during this?" he demanded, offense raising his voice.

"Sleeping or heat delirious," Derek stated matter-of-factly, still feeling along the Omega's walls in careful motions.

Well that seemed rude, almost somnophiliac really, taking advantage of and feeling up a guy when he was out cold or just out of his mind.

"I feel violated."

A gust of laughter blew over one of his cheeks. "After everything you've been through over the past few days, that's what you feel violated over? Me checking you for tears?"

Stiles laid the side of his head back down on his pillow, hips jerking as the finger rubbed over his still overly-sensitized prostate. "I don't need to make sense," he murmured before yawning. "I just went through heat. Literally. Like, the last time was the actual last time, ya know?" He was rambling, he knew it, sleepiness making his filter go bye-bye. But whatever. He didn't need a filter and could say whatever, because he'd just survived his heat.

"You're gonna milk that for a while, aren't you?" Derek questioned like he already knew the answer, finger gliding around his rim.

"Damn straight," he mumbled, eyes closing, head shuffling to get into a comfy position. Because naps were awesome and he was totally taking one and Derek could do whatever to his ass. He was too sleepy to care really.

He felt another laugh against his skin before the finger was fully slipped away from his skin, hearing what sounded like the Alpha wiping his hands on the sheets. Gross. Them again, he had no idea when these sheets were last changed so he could've been laying in all kinda of disgustingness, his body covered in sweat and come.

The sheets were white though so they'd been switched out at some point. It was still his blue pillowcase on his pillow so he was happy about that. The sheets could do whatever they wanted to as well, so long as they left his pillow alone.

"You ready to shower now?"

Stiles let out a long suffering groan, eyes scrunching up in dislike. "Nooo," he whined. "Don't wanna move."

"Too bad," Derek responded, smirk in his voice as he got off the bed, patting the younger man on his back. "Let's go."

"Nope," he refused, clutching his pillow tighter and closer to his head. "Not getting up."

The Alpha sighed long and hard before flipping the teenager over onto his back and yanking his pillow away. It wouldn't have been nearly as annoying if it hadn't seemed so damned effortless. The guy barely let out a grunt as he moved Stiles. And yeah, okay, Stiles could admit he wasn't the heaviest, most densely packed muscle-head or anything but still. It should not seem to easy to flip over a hundred and forty pounds of dude.

"Whoa! With the manhandling," he objected, arms flailing about and smacking Derek in the shoulder as the Alpha leaned over him. Arms were slipped under his knees and behind his shoulder blades before he was lifted up off the bed. "And now you're carrying me like a princess? Seriously?"

"Would you rather I sling you over my shoulder and carry you caveman style?" he asked drily, eyebrow cocked as he made his way to the door.

Stiles just stared at him, trying to judge if he was for real. When there was no change in his facial expression, he backed down. "No, this is cool. Beyond cool. This is awesome and totally rad," he rambled before his face grew serious and he pointed a finger at the other man in warning. "Just so long as you remember I'm not a princess," he wrapped up, watching his head as he was carried bridal style over the threshold of the bathroom. Not nearly as romantic as he imagined it would be on a honeymoon, but he'd take it.

"Noted," the Alpha placated, stepping into the shower. He gently placed Stiles on his feet, blocking the spout with his own body before turning it on and shivering when the cold water hit him.

The Omega snuggled up to the larger man's front, hands tucked between their bodies as he pressed close. Despite not feeling an overwhelming need to be filled like he had been, he still was desperate to touch and be touched, to feel skin against his. Derek seemed to understand this, his arms wrapping around him and rubbing up and down his back in a soothing manner. Stiles took it as a signal to press in closer, tucking his head into the older man's chest. He inhaled his cinnamony scent with every breath, feeling comforted by it and the naked warmth all along his front.

They stood there for a long time just cuddling before Derek flipped their positions, getting the teen's hair wet. He washed it slowly, massaging the Omega's scalp while doing so, making Stiles feel like he was turning into a big pile of goo. He was totally boneless, using the larger man to hold him up, satisfied hums leaving him. He didn't mind being carried like a princess if it meant he got the royal treatment like that.

Hair rinsed, Derek set to work cleaning all over Stiles' torso and arms, washing his back, inadvertently tickling his belly button, scrubbing the dried come off his stomach. All the while, Stiles kept a hold of him, made sure he wasn't going anywhere and that he could easily grab hold and snuggle into him again.

When his upper half was cleaned, Derek sank to his knees, keeping an arm wrapped around Stiles' leg both to hold him up and to give him a sense of being held. That, plus his grip on broad shoulders seemed to be enough to keep his coyote calm and his hormones under control. The Alpha focused on cleaning his legs one at a time, from toes to hips, paying special attention to where the slick and come had dried on his inner thighs.

The Omega bit his lip to hold back a groan at the sight of the older man on his knees in front of him, cock stirring from the attention. The hand moving the washcloth along his inner thighs didn't help, causing it to start filling.

And there he'd even thinking his heat was over.

No, it wasn't his heat. It was Derek and his actions causing Stiles' apparent hair trigger arousal to kick in once again. He'd be pissed if the sight of the Alpha on his knees wasn't so fucking hot, if his mind wasn't already supplying him with x-rated images of the other man nuzzling at his cock before sucking it down, fingering his hole until he came crying out Derek's name. Again.

The Alpha turned his attention to his dick, gently wiping it clean, making sure he covered every millimeter, including in the slit. Stiles groaned loudly, hips bucking at the sensation before bowing over the other man's crouched form. He plumped up to full hardness in seconds, his slick flooding his passage and trickling past his still gaping rim.

"Shit," he gasped, fingers digging into broad shoulders, hips flexing as his dick tried to get more attention.

But the werewolf wasn't taking the hint and rose to his feet instead, hands lightly gripping the younger man's hips as he ignored the whines and whimpers. "I need you to turn around and brace yourself against the wall, okay?"

"No!" the Omega protested loudly, slamming his body against the other man's, holding thick biceps in a death grip. Turning around wasn't an option. Ever. Because then he couldn't see Derek or smell him or hold him or be held by him. Not okay with him or his agitated coyote.

"Stiles," Derek began calmly, that talking to a skittish animal tone back. "I gotta clean your hole out, okay?"

"No," he repeated, head buried in the larger man's chest again. "No. Need to touch you and see you and smell you." He ran his nose along a wet collarbone, sniffed loudly along the way, taking in the scents of cinnamon and vanilla and clean water.

"Stiles." This time his name was spoken as a warning, a light rumble behind it, hands tightening and pushing him back slightly.

Nope. No fucking way. That was not a thing that was gonna happen.

He gasped as he lifted his head, met the Alpha's hard eyes with wide ones, brows lifted slightly in a pleading manner. "Der," he panted out, feeling his body trembling all over. He was losing control of himself again, arousal buzzing under his skin and making him desperate. "Please." He pressed closer again, gasping then groaning as his cock brushed against Derek's. "Oh god, Der, please. Please please please."

"Stiles." There was no bite to his name this time, more of a desperate plea of his own, edged with a whine. He was slowly starting to lose his resolve, his own control slipping. He just needed to be pushed a little in the right way.

Stiles slid his hands up slick arms, around to the back of the Alpha's neck, putting their foreheads together. He panted hard against the other man's lips, breathing shaky like his nerves and body. "One more time," he pleaded. "Just fill me one more time and I'll be okay. Please just once more."

Derek swallowed hard, nostrils flaring as he caught the scent of Stiles' arousal, of the slick trickling down his crack, down his balls, down his thighs. "Thought you said your heat passed," he managed to get out, voice rough. He let out a gasp, his eyes widening, alerting the younger man to his own actions. Because his hips had started moving on their own, thrusting up along a half-hard shaft, the water from the shower easing the motions.

"I lied," Stiles breathed out, licking his lips before continuing. "I lied and I'm sorry but I lied. I'm a coyote, we trick wolves, I tricked you, but I need you. Please, Der, need you so bad." His voice turned to a whine at the end, his words a rambled begging.

His stomach clenched a little with guilt over lying about lying but he quickly got over it. Because Derek's eyes were flickering between red and green and there were the tell-take pricks of claws on Stiles' hips and the Alpha was clearly losing his control even more, was right on the verge of giving in.

"God, Stiles," he breathed out, the words a praise and a swear all in one, like he was torn between what he really wanted to do.

Almost there.

"I'm sorry," Stiles panted, wrapping his arms around the other man's neck and bringing himself impossibly closer. "I'm sorry, but I need you, need you so much. I'm so wet and so empty and I need you. Please." His own claws dug into the back of his neck, a growl rumbling up in response.

The sound turned into a groan, but Derek gave in, easily lifting the Omega up by the back of his thighs. Stiles automatically wrapped his legs around his midsection, ankles hooked on his lower back, hips canted for easier access. His hole was pulsing, gaping, ready to welcome whatever wanted in, his slick flooding inside him more to help ease the way. An arm wrapped around his lower back, helping hold him up, Derek's free hand wrapping around his own cock.

"Be a good li'l Omega and spread those cheeks for your Alpha," he rumbled, making the younger man moan.

But he did as ordered, reaching down and holding himself even further open. The head of Derek's cock searched around him, gliding along his crack and over his cheeks before finally locating its destination. And in one smooth thrust, he was inside and fully bottomed out.

"Fuck, Derek!" Stiles gasped out, hips bucking up in an instinctual need to get away from the invader only to slide back down again. His arms draped themselves over broad shoulders, mouth hanging open as a whimper left him with the air he was exhaling.

The Alpha grinned smugly for a brief moment, hands returning to leaner hips and using his grip to move the younger man up and down his cock. It didn't take long for him to start a punishing pace, slamming himself deep inside the Omega with every thrust.

Stiles moaned wantonly each time he was filled, groans drowning out the sound of the water hitting the shower basin. He felt the drag of a thick head along his prostate, the vein rubbing his walls, the width of his dick keeping his rim stretched out. It was beautiful and glorious and he was completely ruined on sex forever because no way would anyone be any better for him after this.

"Don't stop," he panted out, wide eyes meeting green, pupil-blown ones. "Don't ever stop. Just keep fucking me all the time forever."

"Can't," Derek ground out, pausing to gasp. "Guy's gotta eat."

"Eat me. Eat my ass, but always knot me," he demanded on a near growl, tugging at the short hairs on the back of the Alpha's head.

"Jesus, Stiles," the werewolf moaned, eyes half-lidded and flashing red. "The filth that comes out your mouth when you're in heat."

Stiles swallowed hard as he felt that pang of guilt inside once again, knowing it wasn't the heat making him say those things. Okay, maybe he was a little less censored than usual due to his hormones having wreaked havoc on him over the past five days or so, but he'd been thinking it for a while. Actually knowing how it felt to have Derek inside him and knotting him just solidified his desires and made him one-hundred percent sure that he never wanted to give it up or lose it.

Was just too bad the other man didn't feel the same way.

He mentally shook that off, focusing on the here and now, on the way he was being filled and thrust into like it was all Derek wanted to do as well. He tightened his arms and legs, used them as leverage to start moving himself up and down, meeting the older man thrust for thrust.

"Oh no, you don't," Derek growled, eyes turning red and staying that way.

In a blur of motion, Stiles found himself spun around and pinned against the back wall of the shower, Derek blocking the spray of water falling down. The Alpha unwrapped his arms and stepped back, pushing at the teen's chest until only his head and shoulders were on the wall, body held up by strong hands on his lower back and legs wrapped around a toned waist. He had zero leverage, was given no choice but to hang there and take whatever was given.

The submission of it had him groaning, fresh slick flooding his passage.

"Gonna make you come just from me," Derek stated in a rumbling voice, feral smile on his face, and Stiles damn near came just from that.

But instead, he pressed his hands flat against the wall and whimpered, sharp teeth sinking into his bottom lip.

Derek started pounding into him in earnest, deep thrusts that rubbed against his prostate with each slam inside, jarring the Omega's body. Stiles cried out at the sensation, body overwhelmed at just how fucking good it was, how much he loved his Alpha dominating him and taking control, taking what he wanted. Nonsense fell from his mouth, sounds and syllables he wasn't sure were words or just the verbal equivalent of keysmashing, claws scratching at the walls as he struggled to find purchase or an outlet for the intensity of what he was experiencing. He could feel the pinpricks of claws on his lower back, see the hints of fangs in Derek's mouth, his lips parted as he panted rather than breathed, as he grunted with each slam in and groaned with each tight grip around his cock.

Stiles' instincts were taking over and he tried tilting his head back in submission, only to meet resistance. He settled for leaning it to the side and turning his head away, baring his neck in a way he hoped pleased his Alpha and showed what a good little Omega he could be and how he should mark him and fill him and knot him and Mate him and keep him around forever and ever and ever, the end.

In reality, Derek only got part of it, his eyes now practically glowing red as a deep, pleased growl rumbled up from his chest. He hoisted the coyote up, their chests slamming together, claws sinking into the fleshy globes of his ass as his fangs pierced the sensitive skin of his neck, deep enough to mark, though not permanently.

The sensation of sharp teeth sinking into his flesh caused the Omega to cry out, screaming the other man's name as his orgasm tore its way out of him. Shudders wracked his body, nerves firing and sparking all over, muscles tightening up as the pleasure coursed through every inch of him. His hand slammed out against the shower wall, claws sinking into the back of the older man's neck, mind barely aware of what his body was doing as it closed off all functions not related to experiencing the overwhelming pleasure of it all. The feeling intensified as he felt a pulsing inside him, his Alpha coming and filling him up, making him groan louder as his mouth hung open. His claws scratched down the shower wall until he could no longer reach, flying around to the other man's back and sinking in there, right between his shoulder blades.

Right over the tattoo he got to represent the paternal side of his family.

It took a long time for them to come down, both shaking as they stood in the shower, lukewarm water washing over them. Well, Derek was standing at least. Stiles was still being held up, cock still buried deep within his passage, arms and legs wrapped around the other man like a limpet. He was clinging on to the Alpha like his life depended on it, and from the shakiness he was feeling inside and out and all over, maybe it was. The feel of Derek's skin on his was the only thing keeping him grounded and feeling like he was still in his own and he never wanted to lose that sensation. Ever.

But he never got what he wanted. Ever. Because Derek was withdrawing his teeth from his neck and raising his head, was pulling back slightly from him, was sliding his fangs and claws back within himself and regaining control of his body. It was over. And there was no knot, meaning he could pull out whenever he wanted to and there wasn't a damn thing Stiles could do to stop him.

Derek stared at him with an indecipherable look in his eyes, his scent washed out by the smells of come and the water still pouring over them. Meaning Stiles couldn't get a read in him, couldn't figure out what he was thinking or feeling, if he was glad it was over, annoyed by his clinginess, was giving in to Alpha instincts and placating his Omega at the detriment of his own wants.

The corner of his lips curved up in a sardonic smile, eyes lazy, distant, a mix of emotions in them to match the swirls of greens and browns and golds. But when he spoke, it was with an amused edge, a playfulness that didn't quite match the tight lines around his mouth or the dimness in his eyes.

"Now I'm gonna have to wash you all over again."

Stiles grinned cheekily, pulling himself closer with arms wrapped around the Alpha's neck, resting his head alongside Derek's. He didn't see anything wrong with that fact at all.

It took a lot of finagling and more Alpha strength than Derek probably wanted to use, but he finally managed to get Stiles unwrapped from around him and standing on the shower floor. He washed them both off quickly, finally managing to get the Omega's hole cleaned out like he'd originally wanted, the task made more difficult by the teenager's flat out refusal to let Derek out of his sight. Or out of his grasp.

The older man dried them both off with quick precise movements before carrying Stiles through to the living room and laying him on the couch. But when he made to move away, the younger man tightened his grip around his neck and whined out a prolonged "nooo!"

Derek gave him a flat look, reaching around to grab at the Omega's fingers. "Yeeees," he mimicked before continuing in a soothing voice. "I gotta go change the sheets really quick and this is the comfiest place for you, okay?"

"No!" Stiles continued to argued, clenching his fingers as he felt them being pried away.

"I can't let you lay on dirty sheets," the Alpha pointed out, tone almost pleading with him to understand.

But he didn't care. He didn't care if the sheets were dirty or clean or not there. He just needed Derek, that was all. Derek could keep him warm and covered and safe and, and. And just hold him.

"Don' leave me," he slightly slurred, whines leaving him, fighting harder as his fingers were freed from their grip. Oh no. Oh no no no. He couldn't let go, had to keep his Alpha near, needed to be touched and petted and held. He needed to smell his scent and feel his warmth and hear his heartbeat and why the hell wasn't Derek getting this?

"I'll be right back, I promise."

His arms was completely pulled away despite the fact that he was fighting it with as much strength as his tired Omega body had. But he was no match for an Alpha on a mission, or an Alpha at any time, and he was left with his arms held on his own chest, fingers making grabby hands to try and gain some sorta contact with the other man.

Derek pressed his lips to his forehead and Stiles whined in the back of his throat, choking out the werewolf's name in a broken plea. But it was ignored, the older man pulling away and disappearing, leaving him alone on the couch with fatigued, jelly limbs that couldn't help him follow the guy he needed pressed against him.

He whined loudly, coyote whimpering even louder in his head, both sides of him distraught and agitated. He curled up into a fetal position in his side, feeling cold all over. His skin was too tight and too loose at the same time, his hole still open and exposed, entire body feeling vulnerable. And he was tingling, god was he tingling, and not like the heat tingles were it was more of a low simmering burn all over, but like pins and needles all over, like his entire body had fallen asleep but his brain was awake and upset. Fuck, where was Derek? He needed Derek, needed his scent and his skin and his touch and—

And fabric hit his face, making him gasp and nearly choke in surprise, arms flailing to remove the obstruction. A pillowcase, a white one, one that smelled like cinnamon and sex and Alpha and...and his Derek.

He held the pillowcase to his nose, breathed in deeply, snuffled his nose around whenever the scent lost his potency. It helped ease the buzzing, helped calm his coyote enough for his human side to relax a fraction, his body no longer feeling like it was gonna crawl out of its skin.

Stiles had no idea how long he laid there like that, was only aware of arms slipping under his body and lifting him up again. He was carried through to the bedroom, jostled about as Derek settled on his back on the bed, laying Stiles on top of him. The Omega dropped the pillowcase onto the floor as he nuzzled into his Alpha's chest and inhaled the pure scent of him that wasn't diluted or mixed with cotton and fabric softener.

A satisfied "mm" left him as his eyes drifted closed, arms wrapping around his back and holding him close. The buzzing tingles were gone, his skin more or less the right size, his coyote showing its belly in quiet submission. He let the fatigue of sex and heat and frantic worries over the other man leaving him take over and settled in to sleep.

"My Alpha," he murmured into tan skin, shuffling his head about before finally drifting off.