Derek woke with a startle, hands flying out to grab the body that had shifted his bed with its new weight.
Recognition flooded Derek's senses, making him pause. He knew that smooth touch, surface just slightly raised from a spattering of moles. And he knew that scent, a little smokey but still sweet. And he definitely knew every angle of that body, lean lines highlighted by the lightning flashing through the room.
"Stiles?" Derek asked, voice almost lost in the thunder of the storm outside.
"Shh," Stiles said, leaning forward to lick into Derek's mouth, "I can't do this anymore. I want you, Derek. Scott and I need you. I was wrong to try and separate us, and I see that now. We belong to you."
"Stiles–" Derek said, head and heart suddenly swimming in elation.
"No," Stiles said, shaking his head and pushing Derek back down onto the mattress, "I'm sorry, Derek. And I forgive you for the past, we both made mistakes. We can work it out though, I want us to work it out. Please say we can work it out."
Derek tracked the nervous lick across Stiles's bottom lip, followed by Stiles's right hand that seemed to be moving increasingly lower down Derek's body. It was all too distracting for words. Derek had been waiting to return to this for more than a year now.
"Cat got your tongue, baby?" Stiles asked, a small smirking forming on his lips, "That's okay, I've got one for both of us."
"Uh–" Derek slurred out, as Stiles's hand reached the hem of Derek's increasingly tight shorts.
Stiles pulled the shorts down and grasped Derek's length.
"Fuck," Derek whispered.
A flash of lightning briefly illuminated Stiles's frame above him.
"I know this is kind of–" Stiles said, shaking his head, "It doesn't matter. I think I need to stop talking, because I'm not sure I know the words to express everything I'm feeling right now. So…"
Derek almost closed his eyes in euphoria when Stiles sank down onto him, but the sight was just too perfect to miss. He could have come like a rookie right there in that moment. The thunder only seemed to echo the power of what was happening.
"Fuck, baby," Derek whispered, still not trusting his own voice.
"You like that?" Stiles asked, pulling off to tug Derek's foreskin to the head.
"Mm," Derek whispered noncommittally.
"I asked," Stiles said, tugging on Derek's length again, "Do you like that?"
"Yes," Derek whispered, nodding vehemently, "Yes, baby, yes."
"Good," Stiles said, pushing between the foreskin and head with his tongue and rolling.
Derek did close his eyes in that moment.
"You taste so good, baby," Stiles murmured, "I forgot how good."
"Did you hear me, baby?" Stiles asked, a hand reaching up to grasp Derek's face.
"What?" Derek asked, opening his eyes again.
Except Stiles was no longer in front of him, at least not on top of him. Derek was now watching Stiles topple Jackson Whittemore on the bed.
"You taste so good, Jackson," Stiles said, sinking down onto the kanima.
"So good for me, baby," Jackson whispered, hand tightening in Stiles's hair.
Derek woke with a roar, the sound filling the room, quickly joined by claws shredding the bedsheets and the rumble of the storm outside.
"Derek!" a voice called from outside his bedroom door, followed by a pounding on the door.
Derek recognized the voice as Laura.
"Derek, can you hear me?" Laura asked, "Wake up, asshole! I didn't drive all the way out here to have a conversation with just mom. We're waiting on you."
"Coming," Derek murmured, slowly getting out of bed, "Quit your bitching."
"Nice way to talk to your sister, douche," Laura said, followed by the sound of her retreating footsteps.
Derek needed to get Stiles back and away from that kanima. No one made him feel the way that Stiles made him feel – like the air was too thick to breathe and the ground too soft to walk. The world seemed to crackle with energy around him, and Derek's life was just stuck in slow-speed without him.
Stiles would be his again. Derek just needed to figure out a way to make that happen. Maybe he would give Uncle Peter a call after his mother's meeting.
Stiles opened his eyes only to find lean lines and tanned skin on display, just barely illuminated in the dim room. The man laying next to him had come to play a critical role in Stiles's dreams as of late, but waking up next to Jackson was something else entirely.
Both the sight and feel made Stiles want to skip a few steps in the development of their relationship, but there were two more important reasons Stiles would not be running for Go and collecting his $200: 1) Derek had yet to actually sign the divorce papers, and 2) Stiles wasn't quite ready to discuss the relationship with Scott.
Perhaps fortunately, the latter had somewhat been taken out of his hands when Scotty found Stiles sleeping in Jackson's bed that morning. That conversation was inevitable, and Stiles could only pray that Scott would remain open to the idea. Stiles wasn't sure he could commit to Jackson without Scott's support. Though if Scott were going to approve of Stiles seeking a new relationship with anyone right now, it probably would be Jackson – Scotty's lizard hero.
As for the former, Stiles's father seemed strangely certain that Derek would be signing a settlement sooner than later, but the man had yet to reveal why he felt that way. The Sheriff was oddly calm in the face of Derek's threats to seek custody of Scotty, only offering something about having already spoken with Talia.
Stiles hadn't pestered the answer out of his father for that reason alone – the less Stiles had to do with Talia, the better.
"Hey," Jackson whispered, pulling Stiles out of his thoughts, a muscled arm already wrapped around Stiles and pulling their chests closer together.
"Hey," Stiles said, already feeling his face form a small smile.
"This," Jackson said, both hands traveling across the expanse of Stiles's own naked torso, "Is exactly the kind of wake up I had in mind when I brought you back up to my bed."
"Yeah?" Stiles asked, small smile turning into a large grin.
"Yeah," Jackson said, nodding seriously, "Much better than you rolled up in all my blankets on the other side of the bed and drooling onto my pillows."
"Pfft," Stiles said, lightly pushing against Jackson's chest with mock indignation.
Jackson grabbed hold of Stiles's offered hand and brought it quickly up to his mouth, placing small kisses on the palm and turning the hand over to make his way down the length of Stiles's arm.
"You should probably stop doing that," Stiles said, failing to pull his arm back.
"You want me to stop?" Jackson asked, offering a small smirk and a raised eyebrow to Stiles.
"No, but yes," Stiles said, nodding.
"All right," Jackson said, "I won't kiss your skin."
"You're doing that thing again," Stiles said, trying and failing again to pull his arm back.
"What thing?" Jackson asked, a grin and a smirk fighting for dominance over his face.
"That odd thing," Stiles said, using his other hand to indicate toward Jackson, "With your face."
"Oh," Jackson said, "That's because I've decided on a new course of action."
"This sounds like something I'm really not interested in," Stiles said, attempting to ignore the way that Jackson's shorts seemed to be tightening and throbbing against Stiles's own body, "Can you please tell Reptar that this is not the time for introductions?"
"Hmm," Jackson said, face morphing into one of deep thought, "I think you should tell him yourself."
"Jackson–" Stiles said, stopping as he watched in both awe and horror as Jackson licked the length of Stiles's forearm.
"Do you still want me to stop?" Jackson asked, smirk quickly returning to his face.
"Uh…" Stiles said, "Yes… Yes, I do. And – hey! Weren't you the one that said last night we shouldn't be doing all this?"
"Unfortunately," Jackson said, nodding his head and releasing a deep sigh, "But waking up here with you has clouded my head. I meant what I said earlier, this is a much more preferable way to wake up, though I'll still take you drooling over your absence any morning."
"I'm starting to forget why I want to be your boyfriend at all. I do not drool… Much," Stiles said, trying to keep the blush rising on his face to a minimum.
Jackson's face suddenly became serious, and he grabbed hold of both Stiles's hands.
"You want to be my boyfriend?" Jackson asked, gaze intent on Stiles.
"Uh…" Stiles said, "Yeah, yeah I would like that very much."
"All right," Jackson said, a brilliant grin overcoming his face, "I would like that, too."
"There's just a few things we should probably discuss first," Stiles said, stomach starting to churn with the anxiety of how Jackson might react to the more difficult realities of dating Stiles.
Stiles's anxiety wasn't due to the idea that Jackson didn't realize those realities – the man had probably already considered each of them himself – but more so that the pair had never actually discussed them openly.
"You would like to wait for Scott's approval, yes?" Jackson asked, an eyebrow raising, "And maybe for Derek to agree to the divorce first."
"Uh… In an ideal world, yes to both of those," Stiles said, nodding, "But we've already sort of jumped the gun considering last night and our current situation."
"So…" Jackson said, face morphing into one of confusion, "What does that mean for us?"
"Well," Stiles said, "I think that means – if you agree – we're already in a relationship, but I would like to hold off on sex until I'm able to clarify Scotty's stance and have divorced Derek."
"I can accept that," Jackson said, nodding, "I'm not sure those are my favorite terms ever, primarily due to the sure to be long wait time, but I would like both of those areas tied up as well. Scott means a lot to me, and I don't want to lose favor with him. And I'd really rather not share you, so I agree. Where do I sign?"
"What?" Stiles asked.
"I'm ready to sign our deal," Jackson said, face ernest, "You lose Derek, I get you and Scott. Now I don't seem to have a pen around here, and no claws to draw blood, so how about I use my tongue?"
"Uh…" Stiles said, "I think you're forgetting an important clause to the contract."
"No sex until the divorce?" Jackson asked, large grin returning to his face, "I already agreed to that clause, I don't lick just anything to seal the deal, you know. Besides, you never said anything about no licking. I listened very carefully. Unless it's a kiss you want?"
"Uh…" Stiles said, unsure if he knew entirely what he was getting himself into.
"That must be it," Jackson said, nodding with the most enormous grin Stiles had ever seen – an impressive feat considering Scotty's rather large head.
Stiles failed to resist the urge to laugh in the middle of Jackson's official deal-sealing kiss.
"Putting that particular ego-boost aside," Jackson said with sarcasm, "I am open to retrying the official signing of our contract, but you have to initiate the kiss this time."
Stiles rolled his eyes, but he moved forward to lick into Jackson's mouth. As Jackson's arms enclosed around him, Stiles felt confident that he was once again finally doing something right in his life.
The rush and whirl of the wind and rain hitting the bedroom windows only added to the moment, nature's own symbolic response to Stiles's steps toward growth and revitalization.
Stiles released a deep sigh as he sank down into his own bed at the Stilinski house. It hadn't necessarily been a troubling day, but it had been an emotionally taxing one.
By the time Stiles had returned home, Scotty had already been put to bed by Stiles's father. Isaac was noticeably absent from the kitchen as Stiles shared with his father some of the details from his day with Jackson, the Sheriff seemingly happy to hear that Stiles was moving on.
When Stiles had questioned how his father thought Scotty might respond to Stiles dating Jackson, his father had responded with a guffaw. He assured Stiles that Scotty would welcome Jackson with open arms, and maybe a lizard themed welcome basket.
Stiles shook his head as he remembered having seen a small lizard pillow resting on Isaac's bed in the guest room, no doubt the early prototype of Scotty's Welcome-to-the-Stilinski-House effort.
The bedroom window rattled from the thunder above, pulling Stiles out of his thoughts and reminding him that the day's storm still hadn't let up.
Stiles turned on his side in an effort to refocus on sleep, but he paused at what he had thought was a knock on his bedroom door.
Just as Stiles was about to shake the knock off as one of those sounds old houses seem to make only in the night, it came again, followed by the slight opening of the door.
"Stiles?" Isaac asked.
Except Stiles detected a noticeable difference in Isaac's usually cheerful but dry voice, this one was watery.
"Isaac?" Stiles asked.
Isaac stepped into the room and closed the door. Stiles sat up to turn on the bedside lamp, quickly taking in the other man's drenched clothing and puffy red eyes.
"Isaac, what's wrong?" Stiles asked.
"I…" Isaac said, looking frantically around the room, "They… She… Stiles, I don't know where I belong."
Isaac rushed toward Stiles, thrusting his face into Stiles's neck before Stiles could respond. Stiles opened his arms to surround the beta, trying to offer what little comfort he could.
"Isaac, I don't understand what's wrong," Stiles said, "What do you mean you don't know where you belong?"
Isaac continued to shake with deep sobs muffled only by Stiles's shoulder and the storm raging outside.
The only other time Stiles had seen Isaac this upset had been in high school, when the Hales officially welcomed Isaac into their family, helping him escape from his abusive biological father.