An insistent buzzing that would not leave his ear woke Jackson up. Everything came back at once and he stumbled to his feet, shoving his hand into his jeans pocket and yanking out his vibrating phone.
"Jackson where are you?" his mother demanded immediately.
"Um," Jackson let out brilliantly, eyes falling to Derek who was watching him from the bed, an amused smirk growing on his face. "I'm fine," he started with, "I just stayed over with-"
"I already spoke to Daniel," his mother informed him.
"A friend," Jackson filled in. His mother only called Danny Daniel when she was pissed. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you. I didn't plan on staying out all night. I just…lost track of time."
"It's nearly 11 Son."
"I'm sorry." There was a brief struggle and his father took the phone.
"Are you alive Jackson?"
"Yes, I'm fine."
"Good. I assume we'll see you later then. Love you." There was a pause and he faintly heard his father speak again, "The boy's eighteen Cassie, let him have some fun." The call disconnected and Jackson smiled weakly, glad he wasn't at home just then. He let his phone drop to the pile of his jeans before diving back into the covers, next to Derek. Exhaling slowly he let his entire body relax.
"You should get a bed," he murmured, "a really, really big one."
"Oh really?"
"Yeah. Now that you're sticking around."
"Didn't hear you complaining earlier."

Jackson rolled onto his back and stretched, purposely knocking his elbow into Derek.
"Better for the morning."
"You're right. I'll just stroll into town and say 'Yes I've come back from the dead and now I would like an extra large bed for my condemned home.' I'm sure no one will have a problem with that."
"You shouldn't make jokes unless you're funny," Jackson said, narrowing his eyes.
"Sorry," Derek responded, expression flat.
"You need a bed," Jackson affirmed. "You're staying," he added, fingertips swirling over Derek's chest, "you need a bed." Derek inched closer.
"I'll figure something out," he breathed, "I'm staying." Jackson smiled, breath leaking out as he relaxed again.
"Sounds good," he murmured. Reassurance and happiness lapped at him and Jackson sighed again, letting it in. "That's you, isn't it?" he whispered. He almost knew the answer before Derek spoke.
"Yeah," Derek's fingertips traced lines up and down Jackson's arm. "You're my mate now. We'll always be together. No matter what."

Jackson wound his arms around Derek, pulling him tight.
"So I'll always feel you? Even if you're not actually with me?"
"If you try hard enough, you'll feel me." Jackson smirked.
"Sounds good." Derek took advantage of the turn in attitude and kissed him, lips curving over Jackson's. Jackson rolled over him, straddling his waist and holding his arms loosely over his head. Derek let it happen. Jackson could practically feel the high of being in control radiating through Derek and back to him. "This is amazing…" Jackson panted out. Derek let out a small groan, rolling his hips up into Jackson. Pure, hot pleasure spiked and spread through his entire body. Jackson swayed his hips down to meet Derek's, his knee scraping against the floor. A low growl rumbled in his chest as he tried to ignore it. When he smelled the blood he stopped. "Shit," he let out, pulling away from Derek. He glanced down to his right knee which had worked its way through the blankets. "You really need a bed," he said, pulling his knee up and watching as it healed.
"Sorry," Derek said, he pressed a kiss to the new skin. "Better?" Jackson smiled easily.
"I have to go," he exhaled.

Derek's jaw fell open as Jackson climbed off him. He could feel his mate's mind racing along.
"What are you doing?" he questioned. Jackson smiled at him again, hopping to his pants and pulling them on.
"I'll be back in like…a while."
"Where are you going?"
"Don't worry about it. Everything will be fine." Jackson yanked on his shirt and picked up his shoes, curling them under his arm. Derek climbed off the floor.
"Seriously, what are you doing?"
"You'll find out later." Jackson crossed back to him and pressed a kiss to his lips before slipping out of his grasp. Derek 's lips squeezed together in a frown. Jackson didn't want him to know, whatever it was. But he was excited and happy. Derek didn't press the matter. He let him go. He jumped in the shower, water freezing, and stayed until he was calm. When he got out he started working on one of the holes in the wall in the hallway. Being that the house was condemned he had no idea why he did it. Distraction he supposed.

It was about four hours before Jackson came back. He paused at the door before coming in, caution tape and neon paper hanging from his fingers. Derek brushed the dust off his knees and crossed to him.
"So?" Jackson dropped the caution tape and paper to the floor, brushing his hands together. He exhaled deeply before pulling a folded sheet of paper from his back pocket. After another moment offered it to Derek, cheeks flushed. Derek opened it, eyes scanning over the text quickly. "You bought my house?" It came out as a whisper, unintentionally. Jackson's cheeks reddened further and he glanced to the floor before rubbing the back of his neck.
"Yeah well I mean it was the only way I could stop them from tearing it down. And I may have convinced my parents it would be therapeutic for me to fix it up so I can spend time here without them getting suspicious and it just seemed like a good idea at the time you know I couldn't think of a reason not to and-" Derek caught his lips firmly, paper crinkling in his hand as he took hold of either side of Jackson's face.
"You really like to talk," Derek told him again.
"Only when I'm nervous," Jackson breathed in return, eyes closed. "I take it it's okay then?" Derek's thumbs stroked over Jackson's cheekbones until he looked at him.
"It was a great idea," he said, "you're perfect." Jackson huffed out a tiny breath, smiling ridiculously.

Derek took hold of both Jackson's wrists and pulled him into the living room, dropping onto the dusty couch. "I don't know how much work we're actually going to get done though." Jackson laughed.
"Well, I figured that with both of us working, and with all the…breaks we'll probably take…it'd probably even back out to me working by myself."
"Stop being so smart…it's turning me on." Jackson snorted.
"I think you're just upset that we left something unfinished."
"You're thinking right," Derek acknowledged, nodding once. Jackson smiled again before sitting up and swinging a leg over Derek's lap.
"Is this about where we were?" he questioned, lips drawing closer to Derek's.

TWO WEEKS LATER

Jackson laughed, back arching as Derek's fingertips skimmed up it.
"Stop it," he tried, protest feeble. In answer Derek's mouth landed on his neck, sucking the flesh there. Painting in the spare bedroom had been futile from the start. Derek was no help at all, even going so far as purposely spilling paint on Jackson's shirt so he had to take it off. His hands pulled at Jackson's hips, his own grinding slowly. The paint brush in Jackson's hand fell slack, smearing blue on his arm. "This is never going to get done," he tried again.
"Nope," Derek agreed, smug.
"You're horrible," Jackson sighed, leaning into Derek for a moment before turning and kissing him. Derek took the paintbrush from his hand and Jackson faintly heard it clatter to the floor. He hoped for a second that it landed on the drop cloth before Derek's tongue looped into his mouth and he stopped thinking about anything but Derek. Derek growled low in his throat and wound his fingers through Jackson's hair. He started walking backwards, pulling Jackson with him. Jackson wanted to ask why they were going downstairs but he couldn't quite manage it with Derek's mouth half in his.
"Answer the door," Derek said suddenly, shoving him towards it. Jackson sputtered, turning back in time to see Derek duck in the closet under the stairs. He could hear his parents murmuring quietly on the porch.
"We can examine the fact that you're hiding in the closet later," he whispered. Derek growled in response. Jackson laughed quietly and tried to look like he hadn't just been ravaged.

"We brought dinner," his mother said brightly, holding up takeout boxes.
"Great," Jackson said, forcing a smile. "Let me get dressed and I'll meet you in the kitchen."
"That's not all we brought," his father added, dropping Buster to the floor. Buster yipped happily and scampered forward, running through the house. Jackson paused halfway up the stairs, whistling between his teeth. Buster scampered back, sliding before struggling with his short legs up the stairs. Jackson thought about taking mercy on him…but getting dressed took precedence over the dog. He was pulling open the dresser drawer when the first unmistakable wave hit him. Achingly sweet arousal, coming from the stairwell. Two more struck before he'd finished slipping the shirt on. He gritted his teeth. This was either revenge for the closet comment or Derek was intent on driving him insane. Jackson descended the stairs slowly, body tightening uncomfortably. "House looks good Son," his father said, waiting at the bottom of the stairs, drink in hand. Jackson flushed unexpectedly.
"Thanks." There was a brief pause in the arousal from Derek. When Jackson took a seat at the table it returned even stronger than before. He managed to turn his groan into a cough, barely. Jackson thought he heard Derek chuckle. He settled in for a terrible dinner.

His teeth were grinding together. All his parents wanted to talk about was construction. Construction on the school. The re-build on the house. Jackson's mind was so much elsewhere. Painfully so. He supposed he should have been grateful they weren't pressuring him about college. Not that he'd decided where he wanted to go. He really had to talk to Derek about it anyways. Buster had finally made his way back downstairs and after two circuits of the entire ground floor he paused outside the closet. He peered under the door, yipping once. Jackson listened carefully; glad his parents were debating where the money for the new school would come from. Buster yipped twice more before an audible growl answered him. Buster scampered back to the kitchen, winding himself between Jackson's feet before lying down.
"Must've gotten scared," his father observed. Jackson lifted one shoulder in a shrug.
"You're being awfully quiet Jackson," his mother added.
"Oh I'm ah," a pang so fierce he had to close his eyes, "tired."
"Leave the boy alone," his father murmured affectionately, "he's been working hard." Jackson nodded his agreement, his tongue tangling in his teeth as he tried not to squirm on the hard chair. More arousal piled on top of him. There could have been a groan from Derek…no way to be sure. So much for super hearing. His head was so fogged with Derek he couldn't think.

Dinner dragged kicking and screaming to its inevitable conclusion and his parents finally stood to leave.
"I'll clean up," Jackson offered, faking a yawn.
"Alright," his mother dropped a kiss on the top of his head. "Drop by the house sometime soon, pretend you actually still live there." He smiled ruefully before nodding.
"I will." His father gathered Buster under his arm and waved. Hopefully they didn't think it too strange that he didn't walk them to the door. There was something he'd rather not explain. As soon as the front door clicked closed he bolted from the chair, the closet door already open as he passed it. Jackson sprinted up the stairs, sliding to a stop just inside the master bedroom.
"Finally," Derek drawled, eyes swiveling from the sheets to Jackson. The thin sheets barely covered his wonderfully exposed body.
"You're evil," Jackson informed him, stripping off his shirt as he walked forward.
"No, your parents are evil." Jackson jumped into the bed, straddling Derek, immediately displeased by the layers of denim and cotton between them.
"No. They'd be evil if they had come ten minutes later…" Derek smiled slowly, the barest sliver of teeth peeking through.
"I suppose you have a point," he conceded.

Derek rolled quickly, trailing hot kisses down Jackson's body and slipping the button of his jeans free with his thumb. Jackson groaned and arched into him, fingertips trailing over the bunching muscles in Derek's back. Jackson writhed under him, nails sinking into Derek. Derek released a low growl, hand slipping into Jackson's boxers. Jackson gasped, eyes closing.
"God," he let out, "you, unh, Derek." Derek smiled and moved up, his hand still between them, kissing Jackson quickly. He already knew the relief scouring Jackson from the inside out. Quickly outweighing the silent torture that had brought them here. One of Jackson's hands slipped from Derek's skin and he heard him rooting around in the nightstand drawer. Jackson pressed the tube into Derek's hand, pupils expanding, rapidly overtaking the silver of his irises. Derek wasted no time in popping the lid and smearing his fingers, one hand ripping away his jeans and boxers before working into Jackson. Jackson released a whine and widened his legs. He growled and sank his teeth into Derek's shoulder. Logically the pain should have made Derek shy away. But it was his mate. He pressed himself closer, nuzzling Jackson's neck. Jackson growled, slipping his teeth free before lapping at the rapidly healing wound. Derek caught the edge of his mouth in a kiss as he finally pressed inside. Jackson mumbled incoherent words into his mouth. Derek smiled even as impatience raced over his skin.

He pulled Jackson closer, needing more, needing everything. There'd been too much teasing and now it was an overwhelming race to the finish. He nipped at Jackson's lips, nearly drawing blood. Jackson growled into the brutal kiss, his nails digging into Derek's ribs. His legs wound around Derek's snapping hips and he met him eagerly. Arousal and need were equally coiling tight. Derek lost all semblance of control as he went flying towards the edge, every sense strung tight. Everything was Jackson. Every single sense and bit of awareness was filled with him. It was Derek's last conscious thought before he lost it completely. The strings snapped and black spots danced in his vision as he sagged down on his mate. Jackson hummed happily, fingers threading through Derek's damp hair. He pressed a kiss to each of Derek's closed eyelids before smacking his side as a sign to get off. Derek let out a small growl but did as asked, flopping onto his back.

Jackson grabbed a towel and cleaned them off before tossing it over Derek's head and muttering about 'ungrateful oafs.' Derek inhaled once before dropping the towel to the floor.
"You already know how I feel. What are you expecting, some grand gesture?" Jackson smirked, shooting him a sideways glance.
"I am helping you re-build your house. You don't have to have seen The Notebook to get that."
"I'm staying dead for you," Derek returned. "And I take great pride in never having seen that movie." Jackson grimaced.
"Lucky."
"I know," Derek returned, pulling him closer with one arm. Jackson snuggled into him eyelids closing.
"You really just want me for my body don't you?" he mumbled.
"You shouldn't make jokes unless you're funny," Derek deadpanned. Jackson huffed out a noise that could have been a chuckle, had he really tried. "Get some sleep," Derek whispered as Jackson tucked his head under his chin, "we have to finish painting tomorrow." Jackson poked him hard in the ribs.
"Your fault we didn't get it done today."
"Shh," Derek covered his mouth, "bodies don't complain." Jackson pulled his hand down and held it against his chest.
"Knew it," he mumbled. Derek pressed a kiss to his hair.
"Love you," he breathed. Jackson's voice was soft when he replied,
"Love you."

A/N: Fluffy lemons. Was it going to end any other way? No.

One last time…just..thank you guys so much. I really can't believe how this story took off.

I will be writing many more pairings in the future (probably not Sterek..sorry) and I know it's going to be a long time before season 2. I'm sure you'll see plenty from me before then.

Thanks again. That really was the last thank you though (other than that one…which doesn't count). I hope you enjoyed. :3