AN: This story is a hot mess, I know. It started out as an attempt to try out writing some detailed sex scenes for fun on my ipod and grew into this massive one-shot that had an entire plot backing it up. I purposely didn't add certain characters because I didn't feel like writing them (aka Sheriff Stilinski). I drew from a lot of different vampire sources, like True Blood and The Black Dagger Brotherhood, but made some of my own up along the way. I know it's probably a bit out of character and I really struggled finishing this one, but here's the crazy final product. Enjoy!

The pain he felt upon rising was the worst he'd ever experienced.

It wasn't the sort of pain that comes from getting a cut, that sharp, sudden sting that's followed inevitably by the flow of blood. No, this was more like a harsh punch in the stomach. Like an ache that started deep and would certainly result in a bruise. Yes, more like that.

Except worse.

It made even the tips of his fingers ache.

Stiles couldn't remember how he'd gotten where he was, he could barely remember his name; at that moment only one thing mattered above all else. And that was ridding himself of this pain. A pain he started to realize was somehow linked to hunger.
A deep, ferocious hunger that was worse than anything he'd ever known. How long had it been since he'd eaten? Thoughts of curly fries, double cheeseburgers, bacon and pancakes, gummy worms, chocolate chip cookies all entered his mind…and he retched so violently he thought his insides would turn themselves out.

A single word came to mind and his fear became overwhelmed with the instinctual urge to obey.

Feed.


It had been 48 hours since they'd last seen Stiles.

Derek had been out searching for nearly all of them before Scott made him go back to the loft, reasoning with him that he'd be better help with some rest instead of running on empty. But Derek didn't sleep. It wasn't so much saving Stiles that was keeping Derek awake, but the idea that once again he was going to fail the people he had subconsciously sworn to protect. And Stiles had already gone through hell and back.

They weren't sure if he'd been taken by something or someone, but Scott had decided he was missing when he found his phone and Jeep abandoned at his house. Stranger yet was the way Stiles's scent had vanished out of nowhere. Whatever took him didn't want him found, which meant they knew exactly what Scott and the pack were. The idea they were being targeted made Derek's blood boil. And sitting stewing about it in the dark of his bedroom wasn't helping.

The knock came at his door and he figured it must be Scott or one of the others checking in. A quick glance at his old phone confirmed no one had called. When he finally opened the door, surprise hit him when he saw who was standing there, the scent not one he could understand.

"What the hell, Stiles!" Derek said angrily as he looked at the boy. He stood in Derek's doorway looking sick, small, paler than he'd ever seen. His scent continued to confuse the werewolf, he couldn't place it with Stiles and his wolf didn't like the change.

"You know how worried everyone is?" When Stiles didn't respond to Derek's anger, his brows unfurrowed and worry set in, "Are you okay?"

"I...I don't know..." Stiles whispered as his eyes stared off, irises so dark they almost looked black. Derek stepped back, ready to assess any damage and call Scott, but Stiles didn't move.

"Get inside," The moment Derek said the command, something shifted in Stiles. He stood up straighter, letting out a growl as he flung himself at Derek, forcing him to the ground, "Stiles! What the..." Derek started to say as he tried to push Stiles off, but he wouldn't budge. He was pinned under hands that were somehow stronger than his. And that's when he heard the hiss in his ear.

Before he could speak again, Derek felt Stiles wrench his head to one side before biting down hard onto this throat. The werewolf let out a noise halfway between a gasp and a growl as he felt Stiles sucking blood into his mouth, straddling his thighs to keep his legs pinned down. Derek knew the appropriate reaction would be to freak out and use whatever means possible to get Stiles off, but that wasn't quite what happened. The minute he felt Stiles take the first pull at his blood, Derek's dick got instantly hard. And he had no idea how to feel about that.

As if sensing (and probably feeling) what Derek felt, a low, wet purr sounded in Stiles's throat as he bit down harder, enough to cause a groan from Derek's lips. He'd stopped trying to kick the boy off, which was useless. Instead he was trying to figure out what had happened and better yet, why was he into this? When Stiles's tongue ran across the wounds he'd made, Derek came right there in his pants as the bite instantly healed. Stiles took one last lap at the remaining blood before pulling back, his dark eyes changing to a bright, piercing silver. He was on his feet quicker than any human could move, looking down at Derek with blood stained lips. His blood.

"Stiles..." Derek reached out for him, but the boy moved back, terror in his gaze as he turned and sped from the loft, going so fast Derek knew he wouldn't be able to catch him.

He sat stunned for a moment, running a hand over where Stiles had bit him. The sensation made him shudder. What the fuck just happened? There was only one thing he knew for certain: Stiles was a vampire.

And he had just let him go.


The taste of Derek's blood was still warm on his tongue.

As Stiles ran, he was trying to come to terms with the fact that he had just nearly torn open Derek Hale's throat, and drank down his blood without even a second thought. Worse yet, it quelled the pain that threatened to tear him open. He knew what it meant, what he was, but he wouldn't let himself dwell on that. Not yet.

He thanked the entire Universe that his father wasn't home. The first thing he did was go right to the kitchen. He opened the fridge and chugged down half a 2 liter of Mountain Dew, following it by an old ham and cheese sub, both of which tasted like they were covered in dirt and trash. They stayed in his stomach for all of 5 minutes before he violently threw up, everything tinged crimson with blood.

"What the fuck is happening?" Stiles moaned as he contemplated curling up in his bed, but thought better of it. Instead he slunk down into the basement, tucking into the darkest corner in a heap of tarps that he buried himself under.

And the hunger still gnawed at him.

He tried to remember how he'd been taken, or what had happened after that which clearly included becoming a vampire, but his memory was blank. He dared to turn his phone on and saw the dozens of texts and calls from Lydia, Scott, his dad, and even Derek. They didn't seem to know either. He felt a sudden pull in his chest and seemed to know that dawn was coming. Instinctually his body curled further down into the corner, despite being perfectly hidden in the basement. He felt tired, but not the usual tired he was used to. This was a demand, like a warning before complete shutdown, and he knew he wasn't strong enough to fight it.

As his eyes closed, he thought vaguely about how he was pretty sure Derek had been turned on when he bit him. Something in his scent. The smell of the forest, fresh air, smoke, tinged with something sweet that made his blood like honey.

Stiles wished the taste was still on his tongue.


"Stiles is a what?" Scott demanded the moment Derek explained what happened. He'd called the Alpha the moment Stiles left, still dizzy from all the blood he lost.

"A vampire," Derek repeated and Scott still seemed completely dumbfounded, "His scent is off so he'll be hard to track."

"Are you sure?"

"Scott, he jumped on top of me and drank my blood." Derek said dully and the Alpha just shook his head.

"We need to find him. Will his scent be hard to track?"

"Hard enough. But I'll be able to recognize it. We should start somewhere he'd go that he'd be safe from the sun." The moment he said this, Scott's eyes widened slightly, knowing his friend better than Derek ever could.

"I know where he is...he's home."

The minute they entered the Stilinski house, Derek could smell the thick, spicy scent that had overtaken Stiles's usual smell of sweat, sea salt, and that sweet warmth that he always had, was gone. This was something else entirely. This was like dark liquor, smoky fire, leather and dark wood, sugar melting on the tongue, foreign spices halfway across the world. It was so unlike Stiles that Derek couldn't connect the two. There was something sensual about it that he immediately tried to squash.

"Is that his scent now?" Scott asked softly and Derek only nodding, both of them slowly making their way down into the basement.

The minute the door opened, Stiles let out a hiss, slinking further down into his corner. He smelled the crisp scent of Derek, his heart thumping fast, and the warm cinnamon scent that he knew was Scott. The pit of his hunger has deepened, and waking up when the sun was still out made something in his bones shiver.

"Go away!" He growled out, unsure if he would attack one of them or they'd try and restrain him. Either way, it wouldn't end well.

"Stiles, it's okay. We're only here to help you." Scott called out as he and Derek slowly walked over towards the corner. Derek had never dealt with vampires directly, but he warned Scott of what they might be going in to. And Stiles was strong enough to do serious damage to both of them.

"Get the fuck out of here, Scott!" He growled as Derek came closer and pulled off the tarp Stiles had hid himself under. And when Derek looked into his black eyes, he almost moved away.

"Easy, Stiles." Derek held up his hands defensively and Stiles pressed himself into the corner, realizing all at once he wanted to taste the werewolf's blood again as his fangs elongated and pierced his lower lip.

"We're not gonna hurt you, dude." Scott assured him and Stiles only scoffed.

"You're worried about hurting me? I'm a goddamn vampire, Scott!" He said angrily and the tingle in his blood faded, telling him the sun had set and he could finally leave the confines of his basement. Logically, he knew Scott and Derek could help, but the pull in his blood was telling him to leave, get far away from them, and it overrides everything. He moved to run for the stairs but Derek jumped in his way, a crack sounding where two of the werewolf's ribs broke on impact. He let out a hiss of pain as he grabbed Stiles's shoulders tight.

"We're taking you to Deaton. Either you come with us or we force you." Derek said firmly as Stiles tried to squirm away from him. He didn't like the hot feeling of Derek's hands, the blood pumping under his palms. That sweet scent rose out of his skin and Stiles let out a groan, fighting every urge to bite Derek again.

"I'M HUNGRY!" Stiles cried out and Derek's eyes widened. For a second he considered letting Stiles drink his blood again, a thought that he found himself not exactly hating, but Scott was already at their side, offering Stiles his wrist.

"Drink some of my blood and we'll take you to Deaton's." Stiles didn't wait to be told twice. He bit hard into Scott's wrist, taking a long pull of blood as Derek suppressed a growl. Which was s weird urge. Stiles had barely taken a mouthful before pulling back with a disgusted look on his face.

"Dude, your blood tastes like shit."

"Really?" Scott looked almost disappointed and Derek glared at both of them, "You drank Derek's blood..."

"His was way better." The moment Stiles said this, he leaned in closer to Derek, eyeing the vein on his neck.

"This is ridiculous. Scott, you drive. Stiles can drink my blood on the way."

"What?" Both Stiles and Scott said together, but Derek was already marching upstairs. Stiles licked his thumb and ran it over the bite on Scott's wrist, healing it instantly.

"Let's go!" Derek yelled and they quickly followed after him. When they got in Derek's truck, Stiles pressed against the door, trying not to inhale the intoxicating scent Derek was giving off, coupled with the warmth he wanted to curl into. His eyes had clouded to black as he looked at the werewolf hungrily. Finally, Derek held out his arm, "If you're going to do it. Then do it."

Derek held his breath when Stiles's cold fingers grabbed his arm. He wasn't used to that kind of cold. Stiles slid closer and when his fangs broke skin, Derek couldn't fight the groan that escaped his lips. He watched Stiles's eyes flutter back as he got a mouthful of hot blood, a thousand times better than Scott. It spread warmth to the far reaches of his body. When he felt Derek's gaze on him, Stiles met his eyes, his own turning back to their unnatural silver color. Their eyes remained locked, Stiles listening to the beat of Derek's wild heart and how it was slowing. His hands gripped tighter, willing himself to pull back. Eyes still on Derek's, he ran his tongue heavily over the puncture marks to close them, an action so seductive and unlike Stiles, it went right to the werewolf's dick. Again.

"Everything okay back there?" Scott asked and they both seemed to jump apart. Derek's eyes went forward, trying to focus on something other than Stiles licking his blood of his lips. Stiles on the other hand had locked his seatbelt to stop himself from not only drinking more of Derek's blood, but rubbing his face into his neck where the sweet honey scent was pouring out of him.

"Just a little lightheaded." Derek murmured as Stiles rolled down his window and let the wind defer his nose.

"Make it quick, Scotty. I really want more Derek blood."

And so Scott pressed harder onto the gas.


"There hasn't been vampires in the area for years. Something must have drawn them back." Deaton said as he handed Stiles a bag of blood. The moment he drank from it, he almost gagged.

"This literally tastes like cold rust."

"It's meant for animals. And you'll need to get used to drinking blood that may not taste very good. It can differ person to person even. Vampire's usually enjoy blood better if it's from someone they find attractive." When Deaton said this, Stiles nearly choked and Derek made an uncomfortable noise. Scott tried not to grin.

"Aren't werewolves and vampires supposed to be enemies?" Scott asked and Deaton smiled softly.

"Not everything you see on television is true. It's very possible they share a common ancestor, though the actual truth of that remains a mystery. Vampire lore is even older than werewolf lore, which is why there can be some tension. Vampires are immortal and most of them demand a level of respect." Until Deaton said this, Stiles hadn't thought of his immortality yet. In fact, he may've been pointedly ignoring it. Being a teenager forever didn't exactly seem like a good deal.

"Isn't there some kind of cure somewhere?" Stiles asked hopefully and Deaton only looked at him sadly.

"If there is, it isn't well known. It may be nearly impossible to come by."

"But it might exist?" Scott asked and the older man nodded.

"It might. But I can't make any promises," He started grabbing things off his shelves and putting them into a bag, "Can you remember anything about where you were taken?"

"Nada. It's like that part of my memory was erased. I was sitting at my computer and then I woke up in the woods." Stiles had tried everything to remember, but there was nothing.

"Vampires can sometimes alter memories or rather hypnotize people into doing or remembering certain things. Whoever sired you doesn't seem to want you to remember them."

"And what if they come back? What the hell am I supposed to do now?" Stiles felt anger setting in, his fist clenching so hard the blood bag exploded. Deaton only frowned.

"You have a connection with your sire, and if they were close you would probably know. For now, I suggest you stay somewhere out of the way of people. You'll need help with controlling your cravings and your strength. Staying at your own home would be dangerous for your father."

"He can stay at the loft." It was the first Derek had spoken since they'd arrived and everyone seemed slightly surprised. He wanted to keep an eye on Stiles, because want it or not, he was a part of this now.

"You're joking, right?" Stiles said as he went to lick the blood off his hand, Derek's hard gaze watching him.

"No," He looked over at Scott, "He won't be near any people and I'm at least capable of restraining him. He can sleep in my storage closet."

"Do you think that's really a good idea?" Scott asked carefully and Derek only crossed his arms.

"He can't go home with you. Or Lydia. At least he can't do too much damage in the loft." He shot a glance at Stiles and knew that he didn't quite believe what he said. Stiles could probably break something in a room full of pillows.

"You keep me from eating people and I'll move in tomorrow." Stiles said, having licked most of the blood off his hand.

"I'll leave immediately to see if I can find anything on a cure." Deaton spoke matter-of-factly and essentially dismissed them all.

"Well I guess that's settled then," Scott said awkwardly before going over to where Stiles stood, "I'll check in. If you need me at all, bro, just call. Me, Lydia, and Kira can work on research."

"And I'll work on not killing Derek...or anyone else."

"You'll be okay. We'll figure this out." Scott squeezed his shoulder reassuringly.

"I'll make arrangements with the butcher shop, they won't ask questions." Deaton said to Derek and the werewolf nodded.

"Looks like we're roommates, big guy. I'll just grab some of my stuff and meet you back at the loft." Once Stiles said this, the three other men tensed.

"You shouldn't be left alone. Newborn vampires are notoriously dangerous." Deaton warned and Stiles immediately felt angry, even though he knew the emissary was right.

"I'll watch him." Derek assured everyone and Stiles was already at the door.

"Let's get this over with." He gave Scott one last glance, the fear of the future hitting him all at once. But Derek followed behind him and he knew this was it. This was his life now.

He hoped Deaton could find a cure.


They didn't talk when Stiles packed his things. Or when he wrote the note to his dad. Or on the drive to the loft. Stiles sat himself down on Derek's couch and stared ahead, looking more like a statue than anything else. He was sure how much time passed until Derek came back to talk to him.

"The storage room is set up for you."

"Are there bars on the door?"

"It's for your protection." Derek said stoically, sensing that Stiles was still pissed about everything. Derek had never experienced the turmoil of being bit by a werewolf, he was born one, but he knew how difficult it was. Becoming a vampire probably wasn't much different.

"Plan on chaining me up too?"

"Stiles..."

"Save it, okay? It's not like I want to escape and rip people's throats out and I get why I need to stay here..." Stiles looked down at his pale hands, examining his nails which were sharp like claws now. He clenched his fists to keep them from shaking.

"This won't be easy. But it's manageable, just like being a werewolf, and I can help you if you let me." When Derek said this, Stiles looked into his eyes and knew he was being sincere. Or as sincere as Derek could be.

"Careful Derek, your good guyness is showing," Stiles walked over to the large storage closet. The last time he'd been in here was during the rave when the Oni showed up. Now it had been cleaned out, an air mattress in the corner with his pillow on it. Derek had put a lamp in there, some books, even a small, rickety end table, "This is really happening, isn't it?"

"It is." Derek said softly as Stiles turned around and looked at him with his new strange, silver eyes.

"I need to be alone for a while." Stiles's eyes looked off towards the ground and Derek nodded.

"Okay. But I'll be here if you need anything."

"Yeah...thanks." And without looking at the werewolf, he stepped into the closet, his new home, and closed the door behind him.

Derek's heart sounded from behind the door for a whole half hour before he dared to move away. Stiles missed it the moment it was gone.


He felt cool hands on his chest. His eyes remained closed, but the touch ghosted up his bare skin, resting softly on his shoulders. He let out a groan when nails lightly ran back down his chest, the weight of another body pressing down on his thighs.

When a hand brushed against the front of his boxers, he arched into it. Just when he felt fangs trail up his chest to his neck, slicing open the skin. When lips started sucking on his neck, he felt hips roll into his and he nearly lost it right there. His nose filled with that spicy, dark scent and he whispered out a single word.

"Stiles."

When Derek's eyes shot open, the weight of another body was off him. No wounds on his chest or neck. If Stiles had been there at all, he didn't know. But he felt more aroused than he had in awhile and he took a deep breath to try and slow the beating of his heart.

He'd never felt more alone.


"We're you in my room last night?"

Derek asked Stiles the moment he appeared from the closet, sun just setting. He looked disheveled, hair messy, pants ruffled. And his shirt off. Derek couldn't remember a time when he's seen the boy's bare chest and he didn't realize it was so defined, and now it looked carved out of marble.

"Why would I be in your room? I stayed in my closet and contemplated my new life as a monster," Stiles said nonchalantly and suddenly he could feel sadness coming out of Derek. The prospect of being able to read the werewolf's emotions was exciting to say the least, "No need to get all depressed on me."

"I'm not depressed." Derek almost growled back and Stiles shrugged.

"Face it, dude, you've lost all your mystery with me now. I can read you like a book." Stiles said smugly and all at once a sharp sense of fear came from Derek and he wondered what exactly that was about.

"I don't like that."

"I know." Stiles grinned. But the hungry ache in his gut was growing and his eyes traveled the column of Derek's throat as his fangs lengthened.

"You're hungry." He said this like the fact it was, but as if on cue, Derek's skin began giving off that intoxicating sweetness that had Stiles stepping slowly towards him.

"I know that, too." Stiles said in a low voice, and Derek realized he was holding his breath again. Part of him wanted Stiles to grab him and bite him, but he also knew he only had so much blood to go around. So he stepped away from where the boy was moving towards him like a predator and pulled two blood bags from his fridge.

"Deaton dropped some off today. Scott's going to the butcher tomorrow for more," Stiles looked almost disappointed as Derek spoke, but he took one bag and starting drinking from it. It was nothing like the hot, electrifying blood he'd taken from the werewolf. No, this paled in comparison, "Guess the rumors about you and Scott aren't true."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Stiles asked with blood staining his lips. Derek had to repress the desire to wish it was his instead.

"Deaton said the blood tastes better when it comes from someone you're attracted to." And there was that elephant in the room. Stiles took another pull of blood before speaking.

"So I don't want to bang Scott, big deal. At least now it's a confirmed fact."

"You seem to like the taste of my blood." Derek said amused, but like was an understatement. Stiles would be at his throat now if he could, but luckily sucking on this cold, shitty blood was enough to quell some of his hunger. But not his desire.

"Doesn't mean I want to bang you either," Stiles was for once grateful that his heartbeat could no longer betray him, "So you're not horrible to look at, don't act like you don't know that already."

"I never thought you'd admit it though." It wasn't like Derek could specifically smell arousal, but sometimes when he and Stiles were together, he could sense something, and it wasn't hatred. That had left a while ago. He just never thought he'd be one to reciprocate any sort of feeling towards the boy. But that was before he got fangs sunk into his neck.

"Says the guy who popped a boner when I bit him. Don't think I didn't notice." Derek went pale when Stiles said this, the vampire putting down the blood bag and walking around the counter to where Derek stood.

"Don't bring that up." Derek said warningly, but Stiles stepped closer to him, a smirk on his lips.

"You want me to bite you again, don't you?" When he said this, the delicious scent came flooding out of Derek and Stiles inhaled it in, realizing what it was. Arousal.

"I..."

"Do you know how fucking good you smell right now?" Stiles stepped into Derek's space and inhaled up his neck, making a whine escape Derek's lips. How did this happen? He was supposed to be distant, brooding, let no one too close, Derek Hale. Now a goddamn teenager had him weak. He cursed every vampire for whatever sort of seductive power they had. It was when Stiles's mouth opened and he felt fangs brush his skin did he let out a growl.

"Bite me!" When Derek growled the words, Stiles pressed into him and bit down hard, a moan escaping his lips when the blood filled his mouth. Derek's hands came up to grab Stiles's waist and pull their hips together as sharp nails gripped into his back. Derek's hands felt red hot against his cold skin.

"Fuck..." Derek hissed as Stiles pulled back, only to bite again where his neck met his shoulder. Derek's eyes flashed blue and he felt himself go hard, and Stiles knew it too. He rolled his hips into Derek's and the werewolf could feel that the vampire was just as into this as he was. But he was starting to feel lightheaded again and Stiles's strong arms held him up. The vampire ran his tongue slowly over the wounds he made, closing them as he licked up the blood that had spilled down Derek's neck. A second passed with them still pressed against each other before Stiles moved back, awkwardness forming quicker than he thought possible.

"Um..." Stiles muttered as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. It felt like they'd done something sexual and now didn't know what to do next. They both stood face to face, clearly still aroused, and unable to decide what exactly just happened and what it meant. Stiles just made Derek Hale hard for the third time in two days, yet kissing seemed completely off the table. It was a confusing situation at best, "You should drink some orange juice or something."

"Yeah I'll go buy some." Derek answered just as awkwardly as both avoided eye contact.

"Okay. I'm gonna hang out here."

"Fine. Okay." Derek replied with a single nod as he went to his room. Minutes later he had changed his shirt and left the loft completely. Stiles flopped down on the couch and closed his eyes, grateful his hunger had been soothed. But he also realized something that needed further examining.

Derek liked when people bit him. Or maybe more significant yet, he liked when someone showed dominance. And Stiles realized he'd done that the moment he latched onto Derek's neck the first time. He couldn't deny he liked this part of being a vampire.

He liked it a lot.


Stiles started getting stir crazy only an hour after Derek left. Technically, the werewolf wasn't supposed to leave Stiles alone for too long, and technically, he wasn't supposed to leave the loft. But it seemed like they were both going to break those rules tonight.

When he stepped outside, he took a deep breath, inhaling the scents of the night that were strong and inviting. He caught the scent of thrumming veins, sweat, and arousal. He was running towards it before he even realized he was moving, speeding through the shadows faster than he'd ever run. And it felt good. Strong. He stopped at the back entrance to Hypnotic, a nightclub outside of Beacon Hills that he'd never stepped foot in before, and realized this was the source of the thick, rich smell of bodies pressed together. When he stepped inside, the scent was so strong his fangs lengthened instantly, and even though he was still filled with Derek's blood, he wanted more. The predator in him wanted its prey.

The club's music was near deafening as he slowly entered the sweaty mass of people. He felt warm bodies press into him at all sides and a low growl sounded in his throat. This really was too much, too far out of his control, but for once he felt powerful. Like he was the strongest, deadliest thing in the room. And it felt good.

His silvery eyes locked to a girl dancing by herself, her long blonde hair down and skin bronzed by the sun. She was the kind of girl who he'd go home and jerk off to, the kind who he knew he had zero chance with. Which was why he walked right up to her and slid his cool hands around her waist.

"You look lonely." He spoke into her ear, putting on an air of confidence he didn't know he possessed. And she met his words with a smirk.

"Not anymore." She moved into closer to him as he met her blue eyes, a distant and glazed quality coming over them as he locked her gaze. He pulled her warmth close, inhaling her scent of sweat and vanilla as that honey sweetness starting rolling off her. For some reason, Stiles found he liked it on Derek more.

"Come outside with me." He said into her ear, fighting every urge to sink his fangs into her right here. Instead he trailed his tongue across her pulse point, getting a taste of what hot blood dwelt beneath her skin.

"Okay..." She muttered, still in a daze. He wasn't sure how he'd compelled her, but he would worry about that later. He led her back out into the night, pressing her against the wall as he kissed her. She responded instantly, grabbing hold of his shirt to press their bodies closer. And it sent him over the edge.

She let out a gasp the minute he sank his fangs into her throat. Her blood was different from Derek's, from Scott's, and especially the cold animal blood he had. He could taste the bitterness of some sort of drug in her system, the sweetness of her scent and arousal. And he drank greedily because he could. When her heartbeat started to slow, he still didn't stop. This wasn't Derek, this wasn't someone he needed to protect from himself. The monster inside wanted more and more and more, and Stiles would obey.

He barely registered the feeling of hands on his shoulders until he was ripped back from the girl, thrown all the way across the pavement. He got up and bared his fangs instinctually, letting out a hiss before he registered it was Derek standing beside the girl, holding her upright.

"Come close her wounds. Now." The werewolf demanded and Stiles glared back at him. Though Derek looked murderous.

"What are you doing here?"

"Making sure you don't kill anyone," It was as if all at once Stiles realized how much blood he'd actually taken, "Help her or she's going to bleed out." Stiles moved swiftly back over to her and licked his thumb, rubbing his saliva into the bite wound as it quickly healed. Derek carefully set her down on the ground where she leaned against the wall, eyes half closed.

"Were you following me?" Stiles demanded and Derek flashed his blue eyes angrily.

"You weren't supposed to leave."

"I got bored! You left me with my dick in my hand, dial-up level wifi, and no tv, I'm gonna go find something to do," They proceeded to have a staring match as Derek fell silent, "I just...I needed to get out."

"Next time you decide you need to leave, call me. You're not ready to go out like this yet, you need to work on your control. What would have happened if I didn't show up?" Stiles didn't want to answer Derek's question, so he examined the ground instead. Anger was still coming off the werewolf, but he sensed something else acrid and sharp. When he realized what it was, a smirk formed on his lips.

"Are you really jealous that I bit someone who isn't you?" When Stiles said this, Derek's eyes widened slightly.

"Now you sound insane."

"Are you sure? Because you smell pretty jealous to me."

"Fuck off." Derek growled as he started walking back in the direction of the loft, Stiles following after him.

"I didn't bite her because I was hungry, I just wanted to hunt," Derek still kept walking, hard-jawed and silent, "My instincts said hunt, so that's what I did. Don't you get that?"

"More than you. And I know how to control myself." Derek stopped to answer him and they met gazes again.

"Your blood was better."

"Why does that matter?"

"Because it matters to you," Stiles said this and Derek hated that he was right. In some bizarre way, it did matter to him, "If I could keep drinking your blood, I would. But there's only so much I can take from you."

"I know..." Derek said softly and Stiles reached out to rest a hand on his bicep, a touch that made him nervous despite what they'd done earlier.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have left," Stiles took a step back and a sad, soft laugh came from his lips, "It's weird, you know? When I was possessed by the Nogitsune, I knew that I wasn't the actual monster. But I knew what darkness felt like. Now...Now I am the monster."

"We're all monsters, it's how you handle what you've been dealt that counts. And you don't have that kind of evil in you." In a way, Stiles thought he had more in common with Derek than ever before. But to him, Derek was the tragic hero of the story. Stiles was turning into the monster under the bed.

"Come on, I'll race you back." Stiles didn't wait for an answer before he took off running, smelling the wolf in Derek's blood as he shifted. He ran for the forest and away from the darkness of his own thoughts, werewolf at his heels.

He didn't even care that Derek let him win.


It had been two weeks since he'd been turned and all Stiles really had to show for it was a high-speed internet connection he'd made in Derek's loft. It helped him keep busy during the night instead of going out into Beacon Hills looking for trouble. As for his dad, when they informed him what had happened he was pissed to say the least, threatening to hunt Stiles's sire down himself, then he calmed down enough to both accept and be saddened by what had happened. But considering how Stiles kept staring at his dad's neck when they met up, he decided that staying at Derek's was imminent.

"I think Derek might be your thrall." Lydia declared as they sat together on Derek's couch, researching through some old books Deaton had sent over. Luckily the werewolf was out getting groceries. And blood. Stiles hadn't fed on him since the night he bit the girl, and both of them didn't talk about it. Though sometimes he smelled arousal on Derek when he would watch him drink blood and Stiles usually distanced himself. That was some weirdness he had no interest in dealing with.

"My thrall? Like the vampires in Skyrim?"

"This isn't a video game, Stiles," Lydia said with a pointed expression, "This text says that a vampire doesn't necessarily need to feed a human their blood to make a thrall; it can be the first person they drink from as long as they don't kill them. Either way, thralls are servants of vampires and always do the bidding of their master. Maybe you just haven't used it to your advantage yet."

"Are you saying that I have some kind of wacky vampire control over Derek?"

"It's possible. Which would explain all the strange behavior between you two. Unless you actually have a thing for Derek?" Lydia raised an eyebrow at him and Stiles didn't exactly know how to respond.

"That's a complicated question..."

"It's really not, sweetie. Just picture Derek naked. How does that make you feel?" The moment she said this, Stiles felt his fangs lengthen and he touched one with his thumb.

"Did I just get a vampire boner?"

"I think you got an answer."

"Just because I want to drink his blood doesn't mean I'm into him. It's Derek Hale for god's sake! That's like being into grizzly bears with chainsaws for hands. And besides, we only get weird when I bite him."

"Then that might prove the thrall theory. I think you need to have a talk. Or maybe see if you can get him to do your bidding. Could be fun," Lydia smiled innocently at him and Stiles found himself eyeing her throat. She let out a dramatic sigh, "All you have to do is ask."

"Ask what?"

"To bite me. I won't mind as long as you don't make a mess. Or go overboard." She held out her arm to him.

"Just yell if you feel dizzy. Or find yourself falling under my vampiric charms." Stiles grinned at her before gently biting into her forearm. At first, he tasted her scent, clean linen and cherry blossoms, but it changed quickly to something else. He swallowed down a mouthful and realized immediately something wasn't right. She tasted wrong. She tasted like poison, like death. He barely took a second mouthful before pulling back, pain rippling from his stomach worse than that first hunger. He let out an agonized moan as he fell to the floor, curling up in pain.

"Stiles! Stiles what's happening!" She asked fearfully, about to go help him but he held up a hand.

"Get away!" He growled out as his stomach contracted and he threw up black sludge all over Derek's floor. Another yell escaping him as he gripped his stomach.

"Stiles!" She called out again, about to call Scott when the front door burst open and Derek barged in, eyes glowing as he dropped all his bags, milk exploding and going everywhere.

"What happened?" He demanded as he went over to Stiles who had curled in on himself again, groaning.

"He drank some of my blood and I think it poisoned him," Lydia's eyes were wide with fear as Derek picked Stiles's shaking form up into his arms, "I didn't know..."

"Get a hold of Deaton and make sure this isn't deadly. He needs to get this all out of his system. Go," Derek commanded and Lydia grabbed her phone, already out the door by the time Derek had brought Stiles into the bathroom. He got on his knees and held Stiles up against the toilet, "Come on, Stiles. You need to get this out."

"No..." Stiles moaned as he convulsed again, shaking so violently Derek had to hold on to him tighter. But the vampire craved the warmth.

"Then we'll do it the hard way." Before Stiles could protest, Derek shoved two fingers down his throat, deep enough that more black sludge came out, tinged with red. They repeated the process multiple times. The minute Stiles starting shaking again, Derek held him over the toilet and forced him to throw up, and it was the worst kind of sick he'd ever been. He wasn't sure how long they sat there, but eventually, after feeling like he'd puked out all his insides, he felt like it was finally over. His eyes had gone black, and he closed them as he leaned back against Derek's chest.

"I need to be in the dark." Stiles whispered out, hoarse and spent after expelling all the poison in his system.

"Can you walk?" Derek asked, hoping that this thing really had passed. Lydia had left a message saying that her blood wasn't deadly, or at least, such a small amount wasn't. Any more and Deaton wasn't sure.

"Maybe," Derek stood up first and helped Stiles up, but his legs nearly gave out, "Maybe not." Derek didn't hesitate in picking him up and bringing him to his closet. Stiles felt instantly better the moment all the lights went off. He thought Derek would put him down and leave, but he shut himself in the darkness.

"You need blood." He knew that Stiles had nothing left in his system to help him heal, and dawn was coming soon. He knelt beside the air mattress and pulled the stained shirt off the boy.

"No funny stuff..." Stiles whispered and Derek smiled in the darkness.

"Where do you want me?" The werewolf asked and Stiles exhaled reflexively, turning on his side.

"Don't ask that," He said softly, trying not to imagine the real way he would want to answer, "Come here."

Derek didn't need to ask anything else. He moved in behind Stiles, spooning him as he moved his arm around him, wrist up to his mouth. Stiles bit in softly, getting a mouthful of blood that tasted like pure life, not death. He moaned in spite of himself and felt Derek press closer against him. He drank lazily, slowly, feeling his strength slightly return. The tingle in his veins told of dawn coming, and he felt his eyelids grow heavy as he pulled out his fangs and gently sucked the wound he made. He swore he felt lips brush the back of his neck.

He fell asleep with his mouth full of Derek's blood.


He awoke starving.

The sun had set and with it, Stiles finally woke up. His body had fought the poison inside of it and demanded more blood to satisfy it. In the dark, he saw he was facing Derek, the werewolf had passed out as well, exhausted after their long night. All rationality left Stiles and he was focused on one thing. Blood.

Drawn to Derek's warmth, his delicious scent, Stiles straddled him and quickly bit hard into his throat. His eyes opened in complete surprise, glowing blue in the darkness. He let out a low growl that nearly became a purr when he realized what was happening. He'd expected to feed Stiles again, but he hadn't expected to wake up with teeth in his throat. The sensation alone made him reach out and grab hold of Stiles's thighs, urging him on.

But Stiles didn't stay at Derek's throat. He left the wound open as he brought his hands up and ripped the white tank top right off the werewolf, the sound of Derek's heavy breathing and pounding heart the only thing in the darkness. The honey scent came flooding off his skin and Stiles bent his head to inhale it deeply, running his tongue down where he let Derek's blood flow free.

"Stiles..." Derek growled out as he felt fangs trail across his collarbone and down until the vampire bit into his peck, barely a centimeter away from his nipple, and he let out a gasp. By now he was so aroused he didn't know what to do, but he wanted. And when he felt Stiles run his nails down his chest, he almost lost it right there.

"You know where I really want to drink from?" Stiles whispered against his chest, tonguing at the bite wound. It's the first time he'd spoken and his voice had a seductive quality that made Derek shiver.

"Tell me." He demanded as Stiles's hand moved downward, pointedly not going near his painfully hard dick, and brushed against his inner thigh.

"Here."

"Fuck..." Derek whispered as sharp nails lightly rake up his inner thigh, making him close his eyes. Stiles laughed a low, thick laugh and part of Derek wanted to taste his own blood on the boy's lips.

"That's up to you." Stiles pulled back slightly, silver eyes finding Derek's blazing blue ones in the darkness. It's almost like a dare, a statement that might push them further down whatever rabbit hole they'd already stumbled. Stiles wondered if he should attempt commanding Derek to see if he really was his thrall, but he wanted more of the friction, wanted to pull off the remaining fabric that separated them and feel the heat burn up his skin. Stiles drew in a breath when Derek's hot hand traveled up his stone chest, gripping his shoulder where claws pierced his cold flesh, a pleased hiss coming from his lips. It was when one of Derek's claws brushed across Stiles's bottom lip did he realize this was going past the point of no return. He took Derek's finger into his mouth and tasted his own blood, eyes closing at the sensation.

Which was exactly when Scott knocked on the closet door.

"Hey bro, are you you guys in there?" No doubt the Alpha could smell both of them, but hopefully not what they were up to. Stiles immediately hopped off Derek, on his feet in an instant as they once again exchanged awkward glances, unsure how to proceed.

"Yeah, be right out!" Stiles called back as Derek stood up and realized that any attempts of wearing his shirt were futile. Stiles had ripped it almost in half.

"Stiles." Derek said his name quietly and the vampire turned quickly to look at him, licking their blood from his lips.

"Yeah?"

"The cuts?" He was covered in enough blood as it was, he didn't need to be reminded of what just happened when he was talking to Scott. Stiles looked at him slightly surprised before moving over to lick the bite at his neck, but the werewolf stopped him before he could lick his chest.

"Maybe use your finger for that one." Derek said, smelling slightly embarrassed, and attempting to calm his desire down did not include Stiles licking his chest.

"Yeah, good idea." Stiles mumbled before licking his thumb and closing the bite.

"Thanks."

"Yep," Derek went to open the door but Stiles grabbed his wrist, "Wait...can we maybe have a talk about this later?" He might've asked Derek to reveal his deepest darkest secrets from the look he gave the vampire.

"Scott might have information." Derek said firmly, trying to pretend that they didn't just almost agree to have sex. Stiles just nodded, his eyes not looking at the werewolf.

"Yeah, right, let's go."

As they walked out of the closet, Stiles slammed his fist so hard into the wall, the concrete cracked.

At least that felt real.


The next week passed without either Stiles nor Derek discussing what kept happening between them, and Stiles only strictly drank animal blood. He didn't want to go down that road again with Derek because there's no doubt the werewolf would say yes and they'd end up right where they were before. But there was still this underlying lust that lingered between them that neither dared address.

"Aren't you itching to shift?" Stiles asked as he and Derek walked through the forest, full moon bright overhead.

"Yes and no. I've learned to control the urge, which is something you need to get better at."

"I've only ever attacked you, and you've lived to tell the tale so I think I've got this down." Stiles grinned but the werewolf seemed less amused.

"Those sound like famous last words."

"Right because now I have the urge to run into town and drink from everyone I see. Let's just get this over with." Derek's theory was that if Stiles could learn how to properly hunt animals, he could channel his instincts into that instead of people. But it at least gave them an excuse to get out of the loft for a few hours.

"There's plenty of deer out here you can hunt. And we're deep enough that other people shouldn't be a problem." As Derek spoke, Stiles inhaled the scents of the forest and the entire place came alive. The scent reminded him of Derek, who blended into it like he belonged. When he caught the scent of a deer, he ran after it. Derek kept up enough to watch as Stiles leapt onto the creature, biting the throat as he drank deep. It didn't take long for him to kill it.

"See? Easy as..." Stiles trailed off as he got the scent of human blood. It smelled of mint, tinged with fear, excitement, and adrenaline. Before he could stop himself, he was running towards it.

"Stiles!" Derek called after him, swearing under his breath as he followed, hating the fact that the boy was now almost faster than him. In the distance, a group of teenagers were stumbling through the trees, and one had an open, bleeding wound on her hand. Stiles was about to attack but Derek got to him first, jumping through the air and tackling him to the ground.

The vampire didn't even speak, instead he growled and barred his fangs, eyes jet black in anger. He pushed Derek off and the werewolf flew through the air and slammed into a tree. The impact made Derek shift, claws coming out as he too let out a roar and ran at Stiles, ready to restrain him by any means necessary. The vampire was about to go back towards the other teenagers, but claws hit him hard in the face, ripping open his skin. He let out a pained hiss as Derek swiftly moved behind him and restrained his arms.

"Stop! Stiles, stop!" Derek's voice seemed to get through to him as Stiles stopped struggling and closed his eyes. He felt his cheek heal, mending it itself quicker than any wound could, and when he opened his eyes again, they were silver.

"I would've killed them..." He whispered and Derek didn't let go. He could sense Stiles start to teeter on the edge of his own guilt.

"But you didn't."

"Because of you! If you weren't here..." Stiles leaned his head back against Derek's shoulder and gazed up at the moon. The werewolf released his hold but neither one of them dared move.

"Well I am here, and you didn't hurt anyone."

"But what happens when you aren't around to stop me?" Silence hung in the air until Derek leaned in, his lips brushing Stiles's ear.

"Guess I need to stick around then."


"Any luck figuring out who was kind enough to bite and dump me?" Stiles had gone over Scott's to not only get away from the awkwardness of being with Derek, but also try and have a normal night with his best friend.

"Nope, but Deaton said the might be keeping close though. If they care at all what you're up to."

"Well good ole Derek is doing a fine job keeping me from murdering people so I'm guessing this sire of mine is pretty disappointed." Stiles watched as Scott ate a handful of popcorn and wished that the thought of eating it didn't repulse him.

"I still don't get why they turned you in the first place."

"Do you think I'm not appealing to vampires?" Stiles asked and Scott grinned.

"No dude, you're totally bite-able. I'm just saying it's weird that out of the blue a vampire turns you and then that's it."

"Maybe it was an accident? I just wish I could remember it..."

"We'll figure it out bro, don't worry," Scott ate another handful of popcorn before speaking again, "Still think Derek's your thrall?"

"I haven't tested the theory yet, no."

"Because I saw you when you came out of that storage closet..."

"Yeah, I know. Please don't remind me. The guy goes from hating me, to tolerating me, to getting off any time I bite him. Like what the fuck is that?" Scott made a gross out face at Stiles's words.

"Way too much info."

"Hey man, you asked." A comfortable silence fell between them as Scott seemed deep in thought.

"So is my blood really gross?"

"Tastes like old socks. But it means I don't want to have sex with you, so that's good, right?"

"Wait...you want to have sex with Derek? Dude..." Scott met his gaze smelling something like worry and Stiles only sighed and nodded.

"I know, man, I know."


It was the middle of the day when Stiles heard the cries. He had been dead to the world in the darkness of the closet when the scent of Derek's fear hit him so hard his eyes shot open. The werewolf was crying out and Stiles was on his feet in an instant, pausing only when his hand grabbed the doorknob. He didn't know how much sunlight he was capable of bearing, but if Derek was in trouble he had to do something.

The minute he opened the door, the room exploded in brightness and it took a moment for his eyes to adjust. Where he was had no direct sunlight, but most of the loft was covered in it from all the windows. He glanced at the stairs that twisted up, all covered in sunlight, and knew he couldn't jump them all. With vampire speed he ran towards them, slowing slightly as the sun hit his skin and immediately started burning it. He let out a soft, pained whine as he jumped up the stairs and bolted for Derek's room, the skin of his face, chest, and arms burnt enough to feel like a terrible sunburn. When he burst into Derek's room, the sun was everywhere and he had to shield his eyes to get a good look at Derek who seemed to only be having a violent nightmare. He was soaked in sweat and the smell of his fear was overwhelming. Stiles went right to his side and gently grabbed his shoulders.

"Derek, Derek wake up! It's just a dream," The werewolf was whining in his sleep, face filled with pain. Stiles knew the feeling well. And now he could feel his burns getting worse, so much so he quickly got into the bed and pull the comforter over both him and the werewolf, "Come on, Derek!" The werewolf's eyes opened suddenly as he gasped in air, staring in confusion at the boy leaning over him who was now covered in burns so bad it was making him shake. And the blanket wasn't helping much.

"Stiles?" Derek whispered, bringing his fingers up to gently touch his burned cheek.

"Hey, big guy," Stiles smiled slightly despite the stinging pain on his skin, "Bad dream?"

"Wait," Derek seemed to realize all at once that he was awake, it was daytime, and Stiles wasn't in his closet. It was then his eyes widened, "What are you doing?"

"I smelled your fear...so I courageously came to your aid. But I really need to get back downstairs before I lose another layer of skin." When Stiles said this, Derek didn't even hesitate. He got out of bed and quickly shut all his blinds before helping Stiles up and leading him downstairs. Every step ached and he nearly starting freaking out when he realized he could see the muscle on his right arm. When they reached the closet, Stiles flung himself on the mattress and buried himself under the blankets, shaking as his skin slowly healed. He expected Derek to leave, but he stayed in the dark with him.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'll be fine. Just need to not move for a while that's all."

"That was pretty stupid of you to come out in the daylight." Stiles may've been mad at the comment if he sensed anger coming out of the werewolf, but that wasn't the case. He seemed almost surprised that Stiles had done it at all.

"Yeah well, I can be pretty stupid."

"Do you need blood?" Derek hesitated asking because he feared what the boy might say. If the answer was yes, then they'd inevitably start their same sensual dance he refused to analyze in his own head.

"No, no I'm already healing. I drank a lot before dawn," When Stiles smelled disappointment, he almost changed his answer, but he decided to say something else completely, "You could still stay though. I'd like that."

"Okay." Derek said softly, unsure if this was at all something he should be doing. But he was tired and he really didn't want to go upstairs and be alone, so he crawled into bed beside the bundle of blankets that was Stiles.

"I didn't know you got nightmares like that too."

"They were worse when I was younger...after the fire. But it still happens every once and awhile." In the darkness it was easier to talk about it, to let go. There was something soothing about it, and about knowing Stiles was there too.

"Mine started after my mom died. They just got worse when the Nogitsune possessed me," Stiles's eyes closed as his skin continued to heal, the pain fading away. But he had a feeling Derek's presence next to him might have something to do with that, "I haven't had a dream since I was turned. It's weird but sometimes I miss the nightmares."

"I would. Bad as they get...it's nice seeing my family, even if it isn't real." Derek had never told anyone that, and Stiles, seeming to know this, turned so their eyes would meet in the darkness.

"Yeah, yeah it is."

And in the silence that followed, Stiles fell asleep to the rhythm of Derek's heart.


When night fell, Stiles was alone.

The scent of Derek was everywhere but he was gone. He quickly realized his skin had healed, but it had left him hungry and itching for the hunt. The pungent smell of paint was what he noticed first as he opened the door and when he stepped into the large open room of the loft, he realized all of the windows had been blacked out. He caught the scent of blood and walked into the kitchen where Derek had a cup full of warmed blood waiting for him.

"You painted over the windows..." When he said this, Derek only nodded and motioned towards the blood.

"You look hungry."

"Starved, thanks," He walked over and took the cup, taking a long drink before speaking again, "Scared to let me drink from you?" Derek actually left out a soft laugh as he looked down towards the ground.

"Something like that." The honeyed scent of arousal was lurking under Derek's skin and Stiles inhaled to get a better whiff of it. The dark spice of Stiles's vampire scent nearly made Derek step closer but he stayed still.

"Lydia thinks your my thrall, that's why we...get a little excited anytime I drink your blood."

"A thrall? I doubt it."

"She said it can happen to some people when they're bitten by a vampire. I just haven't tried to test it yet." Something almost darkened in Derek's eyes, a dare.

"Then test it."

"Fine. Come over here and let me bite you."

"Stiles..." Derek said warningly and the boy just held his hands up innocently.

"What?"

"Don't command me to do something I want to do."

"Ha! So you do want me to bite you!" Stiles said triumphantly and Derek's scent became ambiguous to him, a mixture of too many emotions.

"Why are you making this difficult?"

"Dude, you can't just keep ignoring whatever is happening between us. There's only so many boners I can give you before I want answers. And you've exceeded the limit." Derek was quiet for a moment before deciding what to say.

"For me to be your thrall, you'd have to gradually make me dependent on drinking small quantities of your blood, and since I've never drank your blood, I can't be your thrall."

"So you just have a thing for people who bite you?"

"I'm not getting into this with you." Derek said softly as he started walking out of his kitchen and Stiles marched after him angrily.

"We almost agreed to have sex the last time I drank from you, that's kinda something we need to get into."

"What do you want me to say? That I like when you take control and bite me? Do you know how fucked up that sounds?" He could smell Derek's shame and it made him shrink back, unsure how to take that.

"If you like that Fifty Shades of Grey stuff, that's okay. I like biting you. I like your blood. And I like...I like what we do," Stiles went quiet for a moment, suddenly filled with anxiety about saying any of this out loud, "I don't want it to stop. But I don't want to fall deeper into whatever this is if I'm the only one there."

"I'm not someone you want to get involved with." Derek wouldn't look at him, couldn't, not when so much emotion was suddenly on the table.

"I think it's too late for that, Derek."

"I know."

"Is it because I'm a vampire? Is that the reason you're attracted to me now?" Stiles feared the answer to the question and when Derek finally met his eyes, he inhaled deeply.

"No," When he didn't elaborate, Stiles raised his eyebrows and he let out a sigh, "But when you bit me the first time, I realized it wasn't just all in my head. You came to me first for a reason, and I didn't fight you off for a reason. You forced me to submit to you and I...I liked it. More than I should've."

"My instincts brought me here. And when I bit you...fuck, every time I bite you, you get deeper and deeper under my skin. You're inside of me now, do you get that?" A low growl sounded in Derek's throat at Stiles's words and tempted as he was to go to the boy, he remained still.

"Yes. I get it," Stiles's fangs lengthened and Derek felt his eyes glow blue, "But maybe taking it easy with my blood isn't a bad idea. I have an exercise in control for you and it would be better if you're a little hungry."

"Way to change the subject, asshole," Stiles said with a grin and Derek smiled slightly, "Just try not to get too turned on. The smell you give off makes me fucking crazy." He walked toward the door and felt the werewolf's presence close behind him, a hand lightly brushing the small of his back.

"Do you know what you smell like to me?"

"What? A zombie?" He felt Derek lean in, lips almost at his ear.

"Like something I want to claim."

Stiles nearly purred. That was definitely one of the things he'd be exploiting later. Like the fact Derek Hale was into him.

And wasn't that something?


When Derek pulled up to Hypnotic, Stiles was slightly confused as to what the plan was. They got in easy enough and Derek led him onto the dance floor, where dozens of bodies rubbed up against him with delicious warmth. Stiles felt his fangs lengthen and he kept his mouth closed as he inhaled the same scents of sweat, drugs, adrenaline, and arousal that he smelled before. His hunger started growing even more pronounced and his grip on Derek's arm tightened so much that it hurt.

"I don't know about this..." He said at normal volume, knowing the werewolf could still hear him.

"Trust me," Derek replied as they made their way to the center and finally faced each other, "Try and stay here as long as possible. If it gets to be too much, I'll get you out."

"And if I vamp out and try to kill everyone?" It was a worry that felt very real all of the sudden but Derek only shook his head.

"I won't let you."

"Fair enough," Stiles's eyes traveled the dance floor, the lights and scents overwhelming, but exhilarating too. It took only a minute of standing still for him to step closer to Derek and place his hands on his warm waist, "If we're doing this, I'm not gonna be that guy who's not dancing when everyone else is."

"I don't dance." Derek said this firmly, unable to recount the last time he willingly danced anywhere someone could see. But Stiles only frowned.

"So you took me to a nightclub to blend in yet expect us not to dance? Come on, just sway with the music," Stiles's hands guided his hips as he stiffly moved back and forth with the vampire to the beat of the pounding music. A grin crossed Stiles's lips, "See? You're a regular Patrick Swayze."

"I hate this."

"Your idea, don't forget." It was then Stiles felt his bloodlust heighten when more people crowded together and he felt more bodies against him. He instinctually moved closer into Derek until their hips met, chests almost touching.

"You okay?" Derek could sense the fear on him when he drew closer, sharp nails digging into his sides.

"Just hold onto me. Please." Derek obeyed, placing his warm hands on Stiles's shoulders. It was when the boy rolled his hips into his did the werewolf growl softly in his ear.

"Stiles..."

"Your scent helps. Just go with it." The sweet honey scent came off of Derek's skin and Stiles buried his face in the werewolf's neck, inhaling deeply as they swayed to the music. Derek's breath hitched when the boy's nails dug in, almost enough to draw blood. He closed his glowing eyes to keep them from being seen.

"How's your control?" Derek muttered, wanting to cool his hot skin against the coldness that was Stiles. When he felt fangs brush his throat, he let out a noise that had the vampire laughing softly against his skin.

"Right now? The only person I want to drink from is you. Is this some big ploy to torture me?" Stiles was fighting every urge not to bite Derek, and neither one of them was making it easier.

"Not exactly. Just see how you'd handle all these people with me to watch you," As Derek said this, Stiles turned him around with strength the werewolf didn't expect. Cold hands were still on his hips as Stiles pressed against him from behind, lips trailing against his warm throat, "Jesus, Stiles..."

"I can't last much longer, Derek. I need to fucking bite you. Right here, in the back, the parking lot, I don't care," Stiles licked up the sweat that beaded on Derek's neck, one cool hand daring to move under his shirt and brush the hot skin above his pants. Instinctively, the werewolf tilted his head and wished he had a better angle to touch Stiles. But once again the boy had taken control, "I need to taste you."

"Fuck...just bite me. Please, Stiles." Derek begged because he needed it as much as Stiles did, and even though it may be dangerous to do so openly, neither of them cared. Stiles didn't wait to analyze the possible consequences, instead he pressed his teeth into the base of Derek's neck and let his fangs lengthen to pierce the skin. The moan the werewolf gave made Stiles reach up his hand and caress the warm chest, feel the pounding of Derek's heart. He drank from the shallow wound he made, but his eyes turned black from hunger and lust, realizing he couldn't keep himself restrained for long. He wanted to bite more, not be held back.

"I need to get out of here, Derek." He said as he carefully licked the wound closed, hoping no one noticed the small bloodstain on the werewolf's collar. All at once Derek knew how worried Stiles became, that he was going to lose control. He turned back to look at Stiles whose eyes were black, trying to hide his fangs.

"I've got you." The werewolf said firmly as he felt Stiles start to freak out. He was about to pull him out of the crowd, but he was struck with a sudden desire to do something else instead. His brows furrowed and Stiles looked at him confused.

"Derek?" Before Stiles could say anything, the werewolf leaned in and pressed his lips to the boy's. He tasted like coppery blood, his blood, and for a moment he was too shocked to respond. Stiles expected the kiss to be just as intense and heated as everything between them had been, but this was tender, gentle, tasting of that sweetness he had come to crave. Derek's hands cupped his face and the mere softness of the kiss calmed Stiles's fear, his fangs even retracting slightly. When Derek pulled back, he took him by the hand.

"Come on," Stiles was too stunned to say anything as they made their way back to the truck. Once they were inside, it was Derek who spoke first, "I shouldn't have encouraged you like that, I'm sorry."

"I didn't exactly help the situation."

"Are you okay?" He finally looked over at Stiles, smelling like sweat, lingering sweetness, the forest, and worry.

"I want to kiss you again." He said straightforwardly and Derek's face remained stoic.

"That's not what I asked you."

"I know. But I don't want that to be a one-time thing." Stiles looked at him and Derek seemed to contemplate the entire thing. And he knew he felt the same way Stiles did, whatever that may mean for them.

"Let's go home."

"Plan on doing your classic Derek Hale Avoidance Technique?" When Stiles said this, he didn't know that the werewolf had already made a decision as to what would happen next.

"We're going home." He said again as he started the car and Stiles was about to protest when Derek's skin gave off the scent of arousal again and all at once the vampire understood.

"Wow, you wanna totally have sex when we get back, don't you? God, it's about fucking time..." Stiles muttered and Derek tried his best not to smile as he sped out into the street.

"Shut up, Stiles."

And for once, he did.


"So, we're doing this thing." Stiles said awkwardly as they entered the loft, Derek locking the door behind them. The last thing he wanted was another surprise visit from Scott.

"What do you want, Stiles?" Derek asked softly as they stood feet apart, the space between them feeling infinite. The vampire dared to step closer.

"You. However way you'll let me." Their eyes met, Stiles's still black, and he listened to the wild drumming of the werewolf's heart.

"Tell me." Derek said firmly and Stiles nodded, tongue flicking over his bottom lip.

"Take off your shirt," When he said this, Derek obeyed, making Stiles think the thrall theory still wasn't completely off the table. The vampire walked slowly up to him and let his cold hand rest over where his heart was, marveling at how it sped up, "Do you miss hearing my heart?"

"Yes. It makes you harder to read." When Derek said this, a smile spread across Stiles's lips as the werewolf extended his claws and dragged one across his chest. When the blood started to seep out, Stiles's fangs lengthened.

"Good," He leaned in and ran his tongue slowly across the cut, healing it as he went. A low whine sounded in Derek's throat, "I want you to fuck me in your room." Those words seemed to be enough to make the werewolf pick Stiles up and carry him upstairs, the vampire pressing his lips into his neck as they went. Stiles wasn't sure where he's gotten this confidence in regards to Derek, but he thanked his vampire nature for bringing it out of him. When they got into his room, Derek deposited the vampire on his bed and he noticed the windows here were blacked out as well.

"Didn't want to take any chances."

"I feel like I'm dragging you into the darkness with me." Stiles said as Derek moved on top of him, pupils wide and heart racing. He pulled off the vampire's shirt and let one warm hand run up the cool, hard chest beneath him.

"Maybe I want to go." At Derek's words, Stiles pulled him close and their lips met, fangs nipping the werewolf's lip as blood mingled in on their tongues. Stiles flipped Derek over with vampire strength and nearly tore his pants right off, moving out of his in the process. The werewolf was about to say something else, but Stiles was dragging his nails up his thigh, bowing his head so his lips nearly touched the skin.

"Remember where I said I wanted to drink from?" Stiles said seductively and before Derek could answer, he bit into his inner thigh, making the werewolf gasp out in surprise.

"I..." Derek whispered and Stiles looked up, mouth stained with blood as a grin crossed his lips.

"You like that?" All Derek could do was nod before Stiles bit down harder as the werewolf let out a low, pleasure-filled growl. At this point, his dick was painfully hard, and Stiles's hands seemed to be everywhere but on him, and Derek couldn't stand it. As the vampire licked the wound close, he slipped out of his own boxers and sucked in breath the moment Derek's hand wrapped around his length.

"I want you at my throat." Derek said in a low voice, eyes blazing blue as he reached with his free hand into the drawer of his bedside table, pulling out a bottle of lube. As Stiles bit into his throat, Derek covered two fingers in lube and the vampire growled in pleasure the minute he felt the fingers enter him. Derek's stubble rubbed hard into his neck as Stiles sucked carefully, not wanting to drain too much blood as a moan escaped his lips.

"Dude...I really, really need you in me right now." Stiles breathed out as Derek's fingers stretched him. The vampire nearly shredded Derek's boxers as he ripped them off, tossing them aside as he licked the wound closed and pressed a bloody kiss to the werewolf's lips.

"Be patient..." Derek muttered against bloody lips, Stiles's tongue running across his mouth to taste the blood he left behind. When Derek's fingers pressed deeper, Stiles dug his nails into his shoulders, a moan escaping his lips.

"I want us face to face. I need to bite you when I come." When Stiles said these words, that seemed to be enough for Derek. He pulled out his fingers, rubbing lube on his dick as Stiles let out an encouraging purr. When he entered the vampire, he let out a hiss of pleasure as his eyes turned a deep, molten silver. Stiles pushed Derek down on his back with strong arms and slowly began to move deeper onto his length.

"Don't stop..." Derek whispered as he let out a moan when Stiles started to move. It was then he realized he didn't have to hold back his true nature, not anymore. There was no fear of losing control or causing pain, if anything, Stiles wanted it. Derek let his claws extend, having wanted to the moment they started undressing, and he grabbed hold of Stiles's ass. The vampire let out a pleased grow as Derek thrust up into him.

"Derek..." Stiles moaned out his name, feeling his own climax coming as he pressed his body against the werewolf's, wanting to feel his furious heartbeat. He bit hard into the other side of his shoulder, feeling himself come as his skin let out an even thicker, darker spice scent then before. The smell alone made Derek go over the edge, taking one last thrust before biting down hard into Stiles's shoulder, cool blood tinging his lips. The vampire let out a seductive growl at the feeling. Derek pulled out and Stiles still straddled him, licking at the blood from the wound he had yet to close.

"We made a mess." Derek said contentedly, realizing his bed with covered in torn clothes, blood, and semen. Stiles only let out a soft laugh before pressing a bloody kiss to his jaw.

"We really needed to get that out of our system."

"So that's it then?" When Stiles sensed the disappointment in his voice, he pressed a softer, more assured kiss to his lips.

"Not even close, big guy," Stiles stood up and stretched out his limbs, completely at ease with being naked, which he figured was also a vampire thing, "Come on, let's clean up."

"I'm still bleeding." Derek said nonchalantly and Stiles gave him a wicked grin.

"And I'm not done with that yet." Stiles was in the bathroom with vampire speed, turning on the hot water as Derek entered behind him. When he did, the vampire pressed him hard against the wall with one arm and started to lick up the blood that had spilled from the bite wound.

"You're insatiable, you know that?"

"What can I say? I have a taste for brooding, dark, secretly sensitive werewolf men." Stiles licked one of the bite holes closed before stepping in the shower, Derek following behind him.

"Being a vampire suits you, you know." He said as Stiles closed his eyes to the feeling of the warmth. He turned to face the werewolf and run a cool hand over where the blood had stained his skin.

"I feel stronger and faster and powerful...but I still think I'm gonna wake up human. Still, I can't say I hate what's happened since I was turned." Stiles smiled slightly at Derek who carefully helped clean the blood from where he'd tore into the boy, the wounds already healed.

"Me either."

"And really, I'm more your type now anyway. You do like that whole 'murderer' vibe. And you totally get off on me biting you, which is awesome by the way." Derek leaned in and silenced Stiles with a kiss, one that was soft and gentle, nothing like the sex they'd just had.

"You were my type before all this. Now we just..."

"Make more sense." Stiles finished the thought and Derek nodded. Silence fell between them as they both cleaned up more before the vampire moved closer to the werewolf.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah...I just like how warm you are," Stiles didn't mention how being cold now made him feel disconnected, dead even. And he didn't have to. Derek turned the water up hotter and pulled Stiles into his arms, warming him up as best he could, "Planning on sleeping in your bed?"

"I was going to sleep with you." Derek said this so nonchalantly that Stiles wouldn't have known he felt otherwise if his heart didn't give him away. He was nervous Stiles wouldn't want him to. The boy leaned to lick the final bite hole close, pressing a soft kiss to where it was.

"Good. You can keep me warm."

And he planned to do just that.


Derek woke before Stiles did, but he didn't leave. Instead he stared down at the smooth, perfect face that was inevitably Stiles, but different at the same time. Even in sleep there was something more intense to it, slightly darker that made him rest a warm hand against where the boy's heart once beat. After tasting that bit of his blood, Derek felt more in tune to the vampire, more attached, and it terrified him. This was the same time Stiles's eyes opened, feeling the moment the sun set, and both he and Derek seemed to freeze.

"Hey." Stiles said softly, trying to gauge how the werewolf felt.

"Hey." Derek said back, hand still resting on the boy's chest. To Stiles, Derek was like a frightened wild animal sometimes, he could get defensive and skittish, close himself off when he didn't know how to feel. He could sense the werewolf's fear lurking in the beating of his heart and Stiles was suddenly worried that he might run away. So he leaned up, slowly, carefully, and dared to press his lips to Derek's. He felt a spike of fear when the werewolf didn't respond right away, but his warm hand moved up Stiles's chest and cupped his neck, lips meeting softly.

"Is this okay?" Stiles muttered against his lips before pulling back and Derek nodded slightly.

"Yeah, it's..."

"Weird?" Stiles grinned and laid back as Derek leaned over him, "Not to mention the fact we're both naked. Which should definitely happen more often."

"Are you cold?"

"I'm literally always cold now. Come here. And I promise no inappropriate touching." The smirk on Stiles's lips made a soft growl come from the werewolf as he pressed his bare body against the boy's, Stiles wrapping his limbs around Derek until the werewolf had his nose pressed into the boy's throat. His wolf felt more than satisfied being there.

"Was I your first?" Derek mumbled against cool skin.

"Yep. First for everything. And don't feel bad or anything because believe me, that was going to happen. It needed to happen," Derek nodded slightly in agreement as he inhaled Stiles's rich scent deeply, exhaling his own against the vampire's neck, "Wow, scent marking me and everything. You really do have it bad."

"I'll leave if you plan on being an asshole." When Derek said this, Stiles gripped him tighter.

"Don't even think about moving," Stiles commanded softly as he felt the werewolf nuzzle against him, "So what happens now? Like, what are we?"

"I don't know...I haven't done this in a while. I don't count Jennifer." Derek's scent spiked with sadness and the loneliness on him had never been more apparent to Stiles. He always figured the werewolf liked being alone, not the other way around.

"I promise that I'll keep my boyish good looks and not turn into some sort of scarred up Druid-thing. Unless I have a final vampire form like in From Dusk Till Dawn..."

"I don't think it works like that with vampires. The point is to draw people in, not scare them away."

"So do I draw you in?" Stiles said in a low voice and Derek picked up his head to look in his silver eyes.

"Stiles, we're lying together naked in a closet. I think we've established that already."

"Fair point." Stiles slid himself out from under Derek, even though he wanted to stay in that warmth as long as possible, and stood up naked in the darkness.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm gonna make you breakfast...or dinner. Something." Derek sat up, eyes on the pale form of Stiles in front of him, completely uncaring that he was naked.

"Why?" Stiles sensed the confusion coming out of Derek and he wondered if anyone had properly cared for the werewolf since his family was killed. Did anyone ever stick around? Make him dinner? Not twist their relationship into something dark? He felt like the answer was no and he was filled with the desire to change that.

"You feed me all the time now. I wanna do the same for you." Their eyes met the darkness and a beat of silence passed between them before Stiles opened up the door.

"You do know you're naked, right?" Derek asked amused. He was never one to care about nudity, but pre-vampire Stiles always seemed hesitant about showing any part of himself.

"I'll put an apron on, I'm not a savage," He grinned at Derek before walking out into the open area of the loft, voice calling back to the werewolf, "How do you like your eggs? Scrambled? I hope it's scrambled."

Derek felt a genuine smile form on his as he laid back and inhaled deeply the scent of Stiles on his pillow.

And he felt content.


It was almost a week later they returned to the club, deciding to give Stiles's control another test. After taking a generous amount of Derek's blood at the loft, the vampire went off into the crowd alone, Derek's eyes watching him the entire way. The werewolf went over to the bar and ordered a beer, keeping his eyes locked to Stiles as he moved within the crowd. Even seeing him swaying with the music far away as he was made the werewolf's blood run hot. Any time he tried to analyze what was happening between them, it made his head spin. When Stiles turned and their eyes met, his almost black with what could've been lust, Derek suppressed a pleasured growl.

"It's not any fun to drink alone." A bleach blonde girl with an incredibly revealing dress nearly pressed her whole body against Derek's, smelling so strongly of alcohol it made him scrunch his nose. His eyes never left Stiles.

"I'm not looking for fun." The werewolf said dryly and to that she moved in closer, stumbling to stand up in her toes and whisper in his ear.

"I think I could change that."

"Don't think so." Derek was easily growing impatient and as he glanced over at her, he could see just how intoxicated she was. That, and she looked completely fake, from her tan to her hair extensions.

"What, did you come with your girlfriend? She should know better than to leave a guy like you alone," She placed a hand on his chest and dared to trail it down towards his pants, "I can keep you company if you wanna go someplace more private."

"I came here with someone. So I'm not interested." Derek said firmly as he realized Stiles was keeping an eye on him too. As the vampire watched the interaction at the bar, someone in him slowly started to ignite, like the seconds before an explosion happened. It was when the girl's hand cupped the front of Derek's pants did something inside of Stiles roar with fury. He knew his eyes turned black but he didn't care. The girl pouted when she realized her groping was getting no reaction whatsoever.

"What are you? Gay or something?" When she said this, Derek gave her a hard glare.

"I think it's time for you to go find someone else to try and sleep with." In the moments the werewolf had taken his eyes off of Stiles, the boy had found someone to dance with, a guy at that, and was swaying with him with his hands on his warm hips. As the girl wandered off in a string of curses, Derek looked back to Stiles and saw his lips trailing across the other guy's neck, sending a wave of white-hot rage through his chest. He was going into the crowd before he could even contemplate his actions.

"Get away from him." Derek yelled out as he approached Stiles and the other guy, him looking at the werewolf with a look of confusion before bringing his hand back to grab at Stiles and pull him closer.

"Fuck off…we're dancing." He called out back to Derek as he ground his hips back into Stiles's, the vampire not saying a word as his fangs lengthened when the werewolf's eyes flashed blue in anger.

"I said, get the fuck away from him!" Derek reached out and grabbed the guy's shoulder, pulling him away from Stiles forcefully and standing almost protectively in front of the vampire.

"What the hell is your problem? Pissed your boyfriend wants to grind against someone else?" When the guy said this, Derek swung a punch without even thinking, breaking his nose as blood sprayed across his shirt and he let out a yelp of pain. He felt Stiles grab him from behind as a bouncer made his way through the crowd, a circle already having gathered around them.

"You need to leave," One of them said as they grabbed hold of Derek who tried to struggle towards the guy who was being helped by another club employee. When they reached the back door, the bouncer threw Derek outside into the back alley, "Get out of here or we call the cops."

Derek stood there for a moment, leaning over with his hands on his knees as he inhaled deep breaths of cool night air, trying to refocus himself. He'd gotten angry plenty of times, it even helped him anchor his wolf, but this was something different. This was pure fury that exploded out of him so viciously that he lost all control. And that was a terrifying thing. He let out a growl when strong hands pushed him hard against the adjacent brick wall, pressing so hard his chest hurt. Stiles stood there, eyes black, fangs bared.

"What the fuck is your problem?" The vampire hissed out as Derek pushed back just as hard, slamming Stiles into the opposite wall of the alleyway.

"My problem? What the hell were you doing in there? Trying to reveal yourself in public?" The words came out but Derek knew that wasn't the real root of the problem. That was something different entirely.

"And what were you doing with that chick's hand on your dick?" Stiles pushed Derek off and they stood feet apart, anger seething out of both of them.

"The same thing you were doing with that asshole. You really know how to pick them." The moment Derek said this, Stiles let his fist fly, hitting Derek in the mouth where he immediately drew blood. But the werewolf didn't hesitate, he hit right back, colliding his fist into Stiles's chin as the vampire tackled him to the ground, hitting and clawing at each other until they both ended up a bloody mess, Derek breathing heavily as they finally rolled onto their backs and gazed up at the almost starless sky above.

"I don't want you to fuck anyone else but me." Stiles said finally as he glanced over at Derek, eyes turning back to silver as the anger in him slowly subsided.

"I don't want you to either," Derek admitted back as they met eyes, a silence falling between them for a moment, "Same goes for biting."

"You're the only person I want to bite."

"Good." Derek got up, hissing in pain as he did, and helped Stiles to his feet.

"When I saw you with that girl…I totally lost my shit. I can't even explain it." When he said this, Derek nodded, wiping the blood from under his nose.

"Yeah, I know. Me too."

"So what does that mean?" Stiles asked, realizing he still needed some kind of justification for this whole thing. Because if he freaked out when someone hit on Derek? He doubted that whatever was between them would get any less complicated.

"I don't know," Derek glanced down the alleyway before daring to look back at Stiles, "I guess for now we only screw each other then. Okay?" Derek raised an eyebrow slightly as if he actually wondered if the vampire might not agree.

"Okay," Stiles nodded slightly as they started walking towards the street, Derek hobbling slightly from a strong kick the vampire had given him, "Think you cracked my jaw." Stiles rubbed his chin as he glanced over at Derek, eyeing the blood that was on the werewolf's face. And it didn't go unnoticed.

"You're already hungry?"

"I'm hungry for more than that." When Derek caught the dark, sensual scent of Stiles, he let out a low, almost purr of a sound in his throat.

"Home. Now." Was all he said as Stiles nodded and let out a soft laugh.

"You're a man of so many words," He moved in closer and wrapped an arm around Derek's waist, "Come on, put your arm around me, we'll get there faster if you don't slow us down the whole way."

And, as always, Derek obeyed.


"Fairies…out of all the possible things…it was fairies," Stiles said as he, Derek, Scott, Lydia, and Kira walked out of the woods, all worse for wear. They had followed up on a lead from the sheriff and found themselves face to face with creatures that were far different from those in children's stories. These had a craving for young human flesh, "And they tasted worse than you, Lyds."

"They're Fey, not fairies. Fairies don't exist." Derek said matter-of-factly and Stiles just huffed, trying to get the bitter taste of fey blood from his mouth. Taking their blood had been a last minute act of defense, and he was lucky it didn't poison him.

"Well neither did banshees…" Lydia added in with a pointed look, she out of all of them having remained unscathed.

"Or kitsunes." Kira said with a smile over to Scott who smiled back at her.

"It's times like this I miss being able to eat a really big cheeseburger with a side of curly fries…I always get so hungry after we fight evil," When Stiles said this, he glanced over at Derek and when their eyes met, their scents intensified, the honeyed scent that rose from the werewolf and the sensual spice from the vampire. It was Scott who gave them both a strange look, "Wasn't there something we had to do back at the loft?"

"Yeah…that thing…" Derek said awkwardly and as Stiles neared him to head back towards his place but Scott's voice stopped him.

"Hey bro, can I talk to you for a minute?" One look from his best friend made Stiles realize this was important.

"Yeah totally, dude," One raise of Scott's eyebrows told him this was a conversation for them to have alone, which made the vampire turn to Derek, "You go ahead, I'll catch up." The werewolf paced a hand on Stile's shoulder and nodded, saying a simple goodbye to everyone before heading towards the loft. Scott waited until he was out of earshot before speaking.

"Okay, what…" Lydia cut him off immediately.

"What the hell is going on between you two?"

"Between who? Me and Derek?" Stiles tried to ask obliviously and Lydia only narrowed her eyes at him.

"I can't even smell your weird scents but I can read body language. You and Derek have been giving each other sex eyes all night."

"Sex eyes?" Stiles asked and it was Scott who spoke next.

"I can tell he scent marked you. And his scent…" The alpha trailed off and Stiles looked at him slightly concerned.

"What about his scent?"

"He smells like a warning," It was Kira who spoke then, glancing at Scott who nodded in agreement, "It's hard to explain. It's like your smell is all over him and it's saying 'back off.'" When Kira said this, the satisfaction that bubbled in Stiles was a very real thing.

"I didn't do it on purpose…"

"But you did do it. Does Derek even know?" Lydia asked and Stiles just shrugged.

"I don't think so. I mean I know he's scent marked me…kinda couldn't help it honestly." When Stiles grinned Scott grimaced slightly.

"So you guys have…?"

"Hey bro, you want the details, I'll give you the details. But you might not like what you hear." Stiles glanced at Lydia and Kira who seemed slightly curious but Scott shook his head.

"I don't want to know. At all. Ever."

"I think what Scott is trying to tell you is that you need to define your relationship." Lydia said firmly and Stiles let out a sigh.

"That's way easier said than done." How many times had he attempted to breach the topic and ended up with Derek either changing the subject or very cleverly distracting him?

"What we also mean is that we support you and think that this might be good for Derek too," Lydia added and by the looks the three of them gave him, Stiles knew it was true, "Or you could just keep being fuck buddies for the rest of your lives."

"You mean for the rest of his life." Stiles said dully and immediately he sensed the shift in the three of them, the scent of sadness coming off of them.

"Stiles…" Lydia said softly as she reached for him but he moved from her touch.

"This is so much more complicated than you guys could understand," Scott went to speak up but Stiles wouldn't let him. He didn't want to hear his best friend try and make him feel better about his situation, not when there was nothing they could do unless Deaton can back with a cure, "Just don't, okay? I appreciate it…but just don't." Before any of them could answer, Stiles took off, running at vampire speed all the way back to the loft where he burst through the door. When Derek saw him, concern filled his face.

"What happened?" Stiles took a few big strides towards him and reached out his hands.

"Just kiss me, okay?" Derek didn't respond as Stiles entered his arms, wrapping cool hands around his waist as their lips met. In many ways, the werewolf was his distraction, a way to forget what exactly the implications of what he was were. And when warm hands came up and cupped his neck, Stiles melted into the embrace.

"You want to talk about it?" Derek muttered against his lips and Stiles pulled back, resting his head against the werewolf's shoulder as he shook his head.

"I wanna stay right here if that's cool," There was a beat of silence before Derek repositioned his hands, one of them soothingly rubbing his back. It was moments like this Derek wished he could still read the boy's heartbeat, understand what was happening in his head, but he couldn't, "Just…just hold onto me for a second?"

"Yeah, for a second." Derek replied, but he didn't let go, instead they went silent, the vampire listening to the steady beat of the heart pressed up against his chest.

"What happens when I'm the only one left?" Stiles whispered softly, but he knew Derek heard from the way his scent changed, turning into something that wasn't sad, or worried, but understanding.

"You won't ever be the only one left."

"But when all of you guys die…" Stiles trailed off his morbid thought and Derek pulled back so he could look at the vampire, try and read him better through his silver eyes.

"There's always family that will be left. You'd keep watch over Scott's kids, wouldn't you? And your family?"

"But what about you?" Stiles asked carefully and this time Derek couldn't conceal the sadness that flowed out of him, smelling like rain.

"I don't know, Stiles."

"Don't you think eventually you'll end up with a bunch of kids? Head of some big family pack like your mom was?" When Stiles said this, Derek pulled back, and it was like he was starting to close himself up again and go somewhere dark.

"I don't think that's in my future."

"I do," Stiles said firmly and it made Derek meet his gaze, "I've always thought that."

"I can't do that again." His voice turned almost angry, jaw set and it made Stiles frown.

"Do what? Have a family? Love someone? You can't keep yourself at a distance because you're afraid of losing people…"

"I'm not having this conversation with you." He nearly growled as he turned from Stiles then, but the vampire stepped after him and grabbed his hand.

"Hey…hey, I'm sorry. Believe me, I don't want to think about my future either," He could feel the shift in his blood and more than anything he wanted to curl up beside the warm werewolf and sleep away everything lingering in his mind, "Dawn's coming. I really just want us to go to bed. No sex…just sleep. I know I need that."

"Yeah. Okay." Derek agreed stiffly but he too wanted to crawl into bed. It had been a long night to say the least and he'd gotten so comfortable sleeping next to the vampire, he almost looked forward to going to bed. He tried to convince himself that it wasn't just sleeping beside Stiles he liked so much, but the feeling of being beside someone that anyone craved after being alone for so long.

"We're not supposed to go to bed angry." Stiles said playfully as they made their way to Derek's room.

"That's a couple thing." Derek replied nonchalantly and Stiles knew if his heart could beat, it would probably be pounding.

"And what exactly are we then?" The werewolf wouldn't look at him, but his heart was going fast as silence lingered for a moment before he spoke.

"We're…complicated."

"Yeah, we are."

And they left it at that.


He'd left Stiles wrapped up in blankets in the darkness of his room. Over the last week, they started switching off where they slept, depending on how much utter destruction they caused in the other's room. Stiles had shattered his bedside table in the early hours of yesterday morning, laughing even though Derek was still inside of him. They developed a kind of routine. Derek slept mostly during the day with Stiles, usually waking up with fangs biting down somewhere on his body. Which usually lead to others things. And then Stiles always cooked for him, seeming to get intense happiness for being able to provide for Derek.

Which is how the werewolf broke his own new sleep schedule to go grocery shopping. And it didn't hurt to have some extra blood for Stiles, even though he seemed content to take sips off Derek whenever he felt like it. The werewolf couldn't say he minded.

When Derek stepped outside into the daylight, the light felt so intense he had to immediately shield his eyes. The sun felt unnaturally hot against his skin and even through the windshield of his SUV, it was slightly overwhelming. By the time he returned back to the loft, his skin had turned red from sunburn, which was something that almost never happened to him. When he opened the door, he was surprised to see Stiles standing there in his boxers, concern on his face.

"There you are! Are you okay? I could feel you were in trouble…" The vampire had sensed Derek's confusion and slight pain and it had been enough to rouse him. Ever since Derek had taken some of his blood, Stiles had felt infinitely more attuned to him, "Are you sunburnt?"

"Yeah…I've never gotten it this bad."

"Where was the grocery store you went to? The beach?" Stiles grabbed the bags and with vampire speed brought them over to the kitchen, moving back to Derek in an instant, "Come on, let me look at you."

"I'm fine. It should heal pretty fast. You don't need to baby me." Stiles pouted when Derek said this.

"But I like babying you," A grin crossed his lips as he gingerly pulled the green henley Derek wore over his head. Even the covered skin was slightly red, "Have any aloe? I can rub it all over your naked body." Stiles wiggled his eyebrows and Derek gave him a playful glare.

"No aloe. And no rubbing my naked body right now." All of his skin felt like it was on fire but when Stiles's cold hands gently rested against his upper arms, Derek let out a low rumble of relief as his eyes closed.

"You sure? Might feel pretty good…" Stiles stepped closer and placed the back of his hand against Derek's red forehead, feeling the heat radiate off of him as he carefully pressed his cool chest against the werewolf's. Derek hissed at the feeling and brought his arms around Stiles to rest on his back, "See? Who needs aloe when you can cuddle with a member of the undead?"

"We're not cuddling…" Derek mumbled as he pressed his forehead against Stiles's cheek and the vampire let out a laugh as he wrapped his cool arms around Derek's back, splaying out his fingers.

"Oh? So you want me to pull back then?" Stiles started to move but Derek locked his arms.

"Fine. We're cuddling."

"Actually, I think I might be able to help more," Stiles pulled back slightly and ran one of his fingernails across his own shoulder, drawing blood, "Try some of my blood. Quick! Before it heals!"

"And what's that going to do?"

"I think it might heal you faster. We can at least try it, right?" Stiles raised the question and Derek saw no harm in it, especially since he definitely didn't hate tasting the vampire's blood. So he lowered his head and sucked at the cold blood that beaded from the scratch, still taken back by how it tasted like electric fire. Almost immediately, the pain started to vanish from his skin and the sunburn healed just as quickly as it he got it, "Damn…we'd better put a patent on vampire blood. This stuff is useful."

"And dangerous. If more people knew it could heal like that…"

"Are you gonna analyze this or are you gonna make waking up early worth it?" Stiles cocked an eyebrow as Derek's hands grabbed his waist and pulled their hips together, running his tongue over the healed scratch where blood still lingered. Stiles spoke in a hitched breath, "Fuck…"

"What do you think?" He answered in a low voice, rolling his hips into the vampire's as his fangs lengthened in a grin.

"I think you'd better get in me."

Derek didn't answer in words. Instead he buried his face in Stiles's neck as he picked him up and headed for the couch, the closet too far for either of them to stand to go to. When they landed hard on the couch, one of the legs gave off, making Stiles start to laugh, but it quickly changed to a moan when Derek's hand found his length.

"We're gonna destroy your whole damn house at this rate." Stiles whispered out in a groan as one of his hands ran through Derek's hair, the werewolf pressing kisses against the boy's bare chest as a smile crossed his lips.

"I know," Stiles gasped as Derek pulled down his boxers and dared to enter a finger into him, "Most of this stuff is Peter's."

"Kitchen next then?" Stiles mumbled out as he started stroking Derek, the werewolf leaning his head against the boy's shoulder as he felt fangs run up his throat.

"Kitchen next."

And they sealed the promise with a kiss.


"You're a goddamn genius, Lydia!" Stiles said triumphantly as she handed over the small syringes filled with her blood.

"I try." She said with a shrugged and Deaton nodded his approval. Scott kept eyeing Derek somewhat strangely and it undoubtedly had to do with his scent. It had intermingled itself so much with Stiles's that there was no doubt something even more was going on between them.

"So we can use this on Stiles's sire if we find them?" Scott asked and Deaton nodded.

"It will poison them without forcing them to throw it up out of their system. Even an older vampire will be incapacitated for a time."

"Yeah that stuff is no fucking joke..." Stiles glanced at Derek, remembering exactly the effect Lydia's blood had. Stiles almost felt bad for the vampire who would get a vein full of this stuff, "So Deaton, my man, what's the big news? Did you find a cure?"

"Stiles..." Deaton's face filled with sadness as he looked at the vampire, "I travelled overseas and got a hold of some contacts, talked to other vampires, chased down rumors...but the last mention of a cure died out almost two centuries ago. And it seems to have only been a myth. I'm sorry but...as far as I found, there is no cure." The minute the emissary said this, Stiles felt like something shattered around him. Anguish rushed into him as he felt his eyes turn black.

"I can't be stuck like this forever!" His fangs lengthened and he let out a low, warning growl. Scott tried to ease his mind but the look Deaton gave proved it was pointless.

"We'll keep looking for a cure...something. I won't give up on you. You didn't give up on me."

"I'm a fucking monster, Scott! I'm..." All the dark thoughts seemed to come to Stiles at once. That he would outlive them all. That he would never walk in daylight again. That he would be stuck at eighteen forever. Suddenly he felt confined, like on the verge of a panic attack even though he knew he couldn't have one now. Instead of staying to hear more of Scott trying to make him feel better, or smell Lydia's pity, he darted from the clinic, taking off at high speed away from the place. Scott was about to go after him but a growl sounded in Derek's throat, his eyes glowing blue.

"I'll go after him." The Alpha in Scott wanted to assert dominance, but one look at Lydia told him that Derek was right. Whatever was going on between them, Derek was the one who'd be able to help Stiles. Scott gave a single nod of approval, watching as Derek took off running after their vampire.

He wasn't going to let him slip further into darkness.


"They want to tear it down." Stiles said out loud, knowing Derek could hear it even though he was still running through the forest. He stood in front of the Hale House, a construction fence set up around it with 'condemned' signs around the entrances. He didn't know why he came here, but he wasn't surprised Derek had found him. Maybe he wanted them both to feel some sense of pain.

"I know." Derek said as he emerged from the trees, covered in a thin layer of sweat. Sadness flowed off of him when he saw his old house, smelling like rain.

"And don't you care?" Stiles demanded, tears welling in his eyes that he realized were blood. He turned to look at Derek who stopped a few feet from him.

"Of course I care..."

"It'll all be gone eventually anyway. Scott will be. And Lydia. And my dad. And you. And I'll still fucking be here." Stiles wiped at his eyes but succeeded in only smearing his face with blood.

"You can't think of it like that, Stiles. That'll tear you apart."

"And you're some expert on letting the bad shit go," Stiles's eyes were still almost black, but he felt more sad than anything, "Stop trying to pretend. I can smell your pain, your guilt...how many years has it been and you still can't get over this?"

"Stiles...don't. That isn't the same." The edge in Derek's voice teetered towards anger and the vampire didn't care. He wanted them both to hurt.

"And why not? You lost everything and you know how much that fucking hurts."

"You didn't kill your entire family! Don't talk about things you don't understand." Derek's eyes blazed blue and Stiles growled right back at him.

"I used to think you were some big, intimidating, asshole who just helped us because you had nothing better to do. But I get it now. You're just a lonely, pack-less, sad excuse for a werewolf who wants to feel like he belongs but hides it under a bunch of bullshit. But I see it now. I see you." Derek had stepped into his personal space, anger rolling off him as he grabbed hold of Stiles's shirt and slammed him hard into the front door, the wood almost shattering under the force.

"Fuck you, Stiles."

"No, fuck you! Fuck all of this!" Stiles yelled out and Derek silenced him with his lips, pressing so hard that fangs dug into his lip, drawing blood. They fell backwards through the rotted door and fell hard into the foyer. Stiles let out a growl and pushed Derek off him with such force that he slammed into the wall, plaster flying. But Stiles was already in front of him, kissing him back just as ferociously, Derek's claws coming out as they shredded the back of the vampire's shirt, clawing down his flesh, drawing blood. Stiles pressed himself against Derek, a growl in his throat as he inhaled the sweet scent of the werewolf's arousal, his body instantly responding as he rolled his hips into Derek's.

They didn't speak, instead it was a series of growls and hisses, their kisses tinged with blood. When Stiles grabbed hold of Derek's hair and wrenched his head to one side, the werewolf howled out a moan when fangs buried themselves in his neck. Stiles let the wound bleed free as the werewolf pushed him off, his back shattering the remaining bannister on the staircase. Derek's warm body was on top of his again, barely able to undo the boy's jeans with his clawed hand as he reached down the front of his pants and started stroking his dick. Stiles dug his nails into Derek's back, a moan of pleasure on his lips before he pushed the werewolf off, slamming him into the hallway, dust falling over both of them. Stiles had Derek's pants unbuttoned and halfway down his ass before the werewolf pushed him back towards the kitchen, his hand reaching up to grab hold of the top of the doorframe, but it shattered to pieces under his grip. Stiles wrapped his legs around Derek's waist as they fell, crashing through the weakened kitchen floor and into the basement.

It was when Derek's teeth bit into his neck did Stiles finally call out his name. The sensual, dark spice scent came strong from the vampire's skin and Derek wanted to bury his face in it. Instead he drank down a mouthful of blood, tasting like copper and making his veins feel like fire. He'd never felt anything like that, pure energy, and before he could take another taste, Stiles flipped him over, pulling down his boxers. The vampire sucked on two fingers before working them into Derek, the werewolf growling as they entered, filled with pain and pleasure all at once. With his free hand, Stiles tore the shirt right off of Derek's back, leaning his weight against him as he bent his head down to lick up the blood still spilling from the bite wound on his neck. The vampire worked his fingers inside of Derek until the werewolf pressed back into Stiles's hardened dick.

"Stiles..." He growled out, finally shifted fully into beta form as he felt Stiles's fingers pull out of him. The vampire wrapped one hand around the werewolf's length as he entered him, both letting out a hiss. When Stiles began to thrust, Derek moved with him, feeling like his very blood was singing in pleasure, ready to burst apart. It was when Stiles pressed against his back and bit hard into the other shoulder did Derek let out a howl, Stiles's hips slamming into him, the force making him go down on one elbow, hands torn and bleeding from the rubble-covered ground. This was nothing like the other times they had sex. This was something darker, a claiming, a desire to tear into each other merely to feel, a testing of wills.

Stiles didn't respond, instead he bit down harder, making a pleasure filled groan come from Derek's lips as he increased the pace of his hand. The werewolf came so hard he felt his knees go weak, but Stiles released his dick and held him up, giving one last hard thrust as he came. They stayed like that for a few silent moments before Stiles started shaking. Derek struggled to properly turn around to look at the vampire, but he'd already pulled his pants back on hastily and moved back as if not wanting to touch Derek at all. The two of them were a complete disaster, Stiles even more so with his face stained with his bloody tears.

"Stiles?" Derek said his name softly as he stood, daring to reach out but the vampire recoiled, eyes focusing on the scratches, bites, and floor burn that Derek was covered in. It was as if all at once he could see the damage he'd done, the hurt he had caused. He was overwhelmed then with his own monstrosity and the reality that this was it, this was him, and there wasn't any going back. An 'I'm sorry' froze on his tongue as he stared at Derek, the werewolf's scent becoming something like worry that drowned out the sweetness of his former arousal. When he moved closer, Stiles shook his head.

"Don't."

And he took off running. Faster than he'd ever run before. Fast enough that Derek couldn't catch him. Fast enough to try and leave it all behind him, even though it was pointless. It was at the end of the forest did he slow, a scent hitting his nose that was so strangely familiar he had to follow it. The closer he got he realized why he recognized it. It smelled like him. And there was only one person it could be.

His sire.

"Stiles." When the man appeared, his voice so filled with adoration, Stiles let out a low growl. He was average height, his skin might've once been olive but had paled from being a vampire, dark hair falling near to his shoulders in soft waves. His dark silver eyes were welcoming, even as Stiles's turned black.

"You're my sire." Stiles said in a low voice and the vampire before him gave a single nod.

"Yes." As if waiting for the confirmation, Stiles lunged. He wrapped his hands around the cold throat and squeezed as they collided hard into a tree, barring his fangs as he tried to harm the man in front of him. The one who was to blame for all of this. The older vampire merely seemed shocked if anything and it lasted only for a moment before he spoke again, "As your sire, I command you to release me," The minute the words left the vampire's mouth, Stiles suddenly released him, his body obeying even though his mind didn't want to. He stumbled back with a bewildered look on his face, "I apologize that we're meeting like this, but you deserve answers."

"You've got to be fucking kidding me…" Stiles growled out but the vampire merely held up a hand.

"I don't want to cause you any more harm, Stiles. But if you attack me, I will retaliate," He spoke with a slight European accent and his calm demeanor made Stiles even more disturbed, "I would like to explain myself, if you'll let me. My home isn't far."

"And what makes you think I'm gonna just go with you? You'd better prepare yourself, asshole, my friends are…"

"Your friends aren't here," He said it so matter-of-factly that Stiles went quiet, "You were running for a reason, were you not? And you smell of Derek. I can only imagine what brought you out here without him." At the mention of Derek, Stiles felt his protectiveness for the werewolf explode out of him, barring his fangs the minute the other vampire said his name.

"Have you been spying on us?"

"No…not in so many words. I've known the Hales for many years and plan to for many more," The vampire took a confident step towards Stiles, "Now, will you come with me? Or shall I command you?" They met eyes and it seemed like an eternity passed as Stiles contemplated what to do. Somewhere, Derek was probably searching for him. But it felt like he had crossed a divide that no one else could reach him over, and now only his sire remained with him. And so he said what he felt he needed to, the desire for answers, closure, anything, stronger than everything else.

"I'll come with you."


"You must try this enriched cabernet. I infuse the mixture myself and let it store while I'm away."

Stiles had found himself seated across from his sire on what had to have been one of the most expensive chairs he'd ever sat on. He'd been taken to the gated mansion at the edge of the forest, a place so well-protected he always assumed it was some kind of institution. But instead it had always belonged to a vampire, who was now sipping blood-infused wine from a crystal glass.

"I honestly could care less about having a glass of wine right now. That's not what I came here for." Stiles spoke bluntly, not even glancing around the large drawing room that was filled with dozens of old paintings. A blazing fire was the only source of light and warmth in the room.

"Of course, I forget myself," The vampire took a sip of his wine and placed it down beside him on the dark oak table, "Where shall I begin?"

"You could tell me who you are. Besides a douchebag of pretty epic proportions." When he said this, the older vampire let out a soft, musical laugh.

"That is why you were always my favorite, Stiles. Your unyielding sense of humor."

"Okay you seriously need to cut that out. How long have you even known me? Do you know how creepy this is?" The words made the amused look leave the man's face as he met Stiles's gaze.

"I apologize. I could never tell you that enough times for it to make right my wrongs," He stood up then and walked over to the fire, gazing into it before speaking again, "My name is Henri Beaufort," He said his name in a perfect French accent, "And I was one of the first who helped found Beacon Hills, along with Euclid Hale, over a century ago. When I said I knew the Hales, that is the utmost truth. I've been their guardian for nearly two hundred years, despite what our kind may think of alliances between the species."

"Their guardian?"

"Indeed. It started when I found myself taken with a member of their pack. We became lovers. They welcomed me as one of their own and I have watched over them since, even coming to America to help establish them here. My permanent estate is in France, but I built this home to stay in when I come into town. I regret to say that ever since bonding with my mate, Matilde, I've come here less often," A pained look crossed his face then, "Had I been here…perhaps Talia and her family would have been spared. It is a horror that will haunt me for the rest of my days."

"The fire…" Stiles said softly as he sensed the pain coming out of the vampire. It felt as sincere as anything, "Why hasn't Derek ever mentioned you?"

"I doubt he remembers me. The last time I visited Talia was when Cora was first born. He was only a child then, barely even aware of what he was. But I grew to know him through Talia's letters. We wrote each other quite often and I've kept all of her correspondence," He pulled a letter from his breast pocket and handed it to Stiles, "This was the last she ever sent." Unsure if he should read it but unable not to, Stiles unfolded the letter and started to read.

Dear Henri,

We missed you this this Christmas! The whole pack came together and I made Matilde's recipe for spiced cake…it's good I tripled the batch. The boys alone ate over half of it. I've been working with Cora on controlling her shifts and she's more stubborn then Laura ever was. I think we'll have our hands full when she gets older. Maybe she'll take a liking to you like I did and you can reign her in? But the real reason for my writing so soon is Derek…I'm worried about him. Ever since Paige he's become so distant. His grades have gotten worse, he stays out late, and his attitude changed completely. I think he met another girl. Peter said her name is 'Kate' but you know how helpful my brother can be. I just don't know what to do with him. I wish you were here. Even when I was little it always felt like my problems went away whenever you showed up in town. Please don't be a stranger. If I have to pop out another pup to get you here, so be it!

Give Matilde my love,

Talia

"I didn't know she was an Argent until after the fire. It happened only weeks after I received this letter. I sensed Talia's fear, her agony…but by the time I arrived, it was done." Stiles felt tears well in his eyes, but he didn't let them fall. He'd never known Talia Hale, but her story was there in the words, all of theirs was, like knowing a car was going to crash before it happened.

"You knew she was in trouble that far away?"

"I made her taste my blood years before so I could know when she needed help. Taste a vampire's blood and they can always find you," Even as he said this, it was like the echo in his blood knew that Derek was looking for him, but he hadn't acknowledged it until now, "You can feel him, can't you?"

"Yeah…" Stiles looked down, not wanting to think about how he had left Derek, "So what happened after the fire?"

"To my knowledge, no one knew Cora had escaped the fire. She was small enough to get out almost unharmed and hidden herself in the woods. I found her two nights later by sensing Talia's blood in her. It was I who brought her to the distant Hales living in South America. I thought that Derek and Laura would be there as well, but they never arrived. When I discovered them in New York and contacted Cora, she wasn't ready to see them yet. So I remained in the shadows."

"I'm guessing this is the part where I come in?" Stiles asked and a slight smile crossed the vampire's lips.

"Indeed it is. I returned to Beacon Hills because I knew it was no longer safe without the Hales to watch over it. But what did I find when I returned? You and Scott had taken their place, even if you didn't realize it. Events were set into motion then…Laura returned and was killed, Derek followed, and Peter embraced the darkness inside of him I always feared for. And still I watched you all, fascinated by your sheer force of will, by your love. I thought that Derek may find a family again, because he still needs one desperately," Henri's words made Stiles ache as he spoke, "And you Stiles…I have always loved you most of all."

"But why me? I'm not the strong one or the unique one…or I never was. Thanks for that, by the way." Stiles said sarcastically and Henri sighed softly.

"You are my great sin," The vampire went silent, gazing into the flames as Stiles waited for him to continue, "One as old as I am should know better. But every so often a human comes along and catches my interest to the point of obsession. I loved you for your intelligence, your wit, your courage, and unwavering loyalty. And for your humanity. That was always your gift, your spark, and I snuffed it out…" Stiles saw Henri's eyes fill with blood tears as he spoke, "I became so infatuated by you, I needed to taste your blood, if only once. It was I who lured you away from your home that night. I drank too greedily from you until I realized I'd taken too much. I couldn't bear the thought of leaving you to die, so I turned you. Perhaps some dark part of me wanted you as my progeny, as ashamed as I am to say it. I left because I couldn't face you, or what I'd done. And for that I will never forgive myself."

"You could've helped me…I don't get why you just left me there. I could've killed someone!" Stiles felt the anger bubble up again but the curious look on Henri's face made him dial it back.

"But you didn't, did you? I knew where you would go…to whom. And I knew he would help you."

"How could you know I would go to Derek?" When Stiles said this, Henri met his gaze, his eyes lightening.

"As you know, vampires can sense emotions much easier than other supernatural creatures. That scent that Derek gives off, the one that I'm sure you've become familiar with…he gave it off before I turned you. Realizing it or not, Derek cared for you in more ways than one for quite some time," Stiles was struck silent by the admission, unable to process it, "And you were the same. Tragic as it is, when we're turned we always go back to those we love. Derek was the closest that night, and I knew he would have the strength to resist you. Perhaps I also thought he needed you to come to him. Though I never expected the events to play out as they have…with him as your First Bitten."

"My…First Bitten?"

"A vampire typically is first given blood by their sire to sustain them. Or they make a kill. It is extremely rare for one of us not to kill the first person we drink from…those who survive are called the First Bitten and they remain connected to the vampire who bit them. The most unusual element with you and Derek is the fact that you drank from him at all. Werewolf blood is almost always repulsive to us," Stiles remembered his first taste of Derek's blood and it was far from repulsive. It had tasted like life itself, "Even your attraction to him shouldn't have helped much. And now of course, there's the matter of your exchanging blood."

"You said Talia had your blood."

"Ah, but I never tasted hers. Nor was she my First Bitten. You, my young friend, have inadvertently committed an act of vampire treason," When slight panic started to rise in Stiles's chest, Henri held up a hand, "I didn't return to condemn you. I've never been fond of keeping our species separate but such unions of blood are considered dangerous. You and Derek have already begun to change."

"Change?"

"It will be subtle at first. But from what I've gathered you both will gain some of the attributes of each other. He may become sensitive to sunlight, you may become aggressive during the full moon…but the one trait that always carries over is immortality. Because of your bond, drinking your blood will make Derek immortal. And you've bonded in every way our kind can, I'm afraid. That scent that comes off your skin when you're with him? To other creatures, that smells like a warning. You've marked him, just as he has marked you." Henri's words sank in and Stiles took a deep, unnecessary breath. If what his sire said was true, Stiles really had brought Derek into the darkness with him. From the moment he drank his blood to merely hours ago in the Hale House, he had claimed the werewolf without even realizing it. All at once, the strangeness of Derek's sunburn suddenly made sense.

"And if…if he stops drinking my blood, if I just leave…does everything go back to normal?" Stiles's voice was a whisper and Henri looked at him sadly.

"It should, from what I understand. But you don't want that, Stiles. I returned so I could help you, try to make right my wrong, not convince you to leave."

"Is there a cure?" Stiles spoke so suddenly that it took the older vampire off guard. But the sadness on his didn't leave.

"In my many years, I have never known of one."

"And how old are you?"

"Nearly six centuries have passed since I was human." A silence hung over them then and Stiles sank back into his chair, considering everything Henri had said. No cure, no way to be human again. This was his eternity now, in the shadows. He thought of Scott, his father, of Lydia, of Kira, and of Derek. He thought of remaining in Beacon Hills and how he would have to leave to avoid suspicion when people realized he didn't age. About how he couldn't finish high school. About how he couldn't even be around people anymore. If he stayed, it would only cause more pain for them all. And maybe, just maybe, he could give Derek a chance to make his own choice, not be forced into whatever bond they had. It seemed all at once he had made his decision.

"I'm going to France with you."


It had been three days.

Three days since Derek had watched Stiles vanish into the woods and into the dark. At first he thought the vampire needed space. But then his worry got the best of him and he searched the woods, the scents mingling so strangely he didn't know what to think of it. He wandered until dawn, cursing when the rain came and muted all trails he may've followed. Even when Scott came to help, they found nothing.

Don't.

There were no reports of mysterious deaths from blood loss. No strange sightings. Part of Derek feared that the sun had turned Stiles into ash and they would never find him. But Scott remained hopeful, believing that Stiles might just be hunkered down somewhere. Derek wondered if he may've disappeared entirely, unable to forget the look on his face before he ran, the sheer ruination of it.

Don't.

"Hello?" Derek picked up his phone when the unknown number called, and for a second the line was silent.

"You need to stop looking for me."

"Stiles…where are…" He started to say but the vampire's firm voice cut him off.

"No, listen to me," Stiles sounded so serious that Derek went quiet, "I'm safe. I'm with my sire. He's someone we can trust. Get a hold of Peter, or Cora, and ask them about Henri. It might help you remember him too."

"What are you talking about? Where are you?" He demanded but Stiles wouldn't have it.

"Look out for Scott, okay? And my dad?"

"Stiles…just come back," Derek felt suddenly choked up as he realized this was a goodbye, "We need you." I need you. He knew then it had gone beyond the physical for him, and maybe he'd been denying that for a long time. Because the thought of Stiles never coming back? That hurt more than he'd ever imagined.

"Fuck, Derek…don't make this harder than it already is," Silence on both ends until Stiles spoke again softly, "I'm not coming back."

"Don't." Derek muttered out the words, the same the vampire had said to him, only this was a plea for him to stay. A low, sad whine coming from Derek's throat.

"I'm doing this for you. Just take care of yourself, okay? Please?"

"Stiles!" Derek called out his name, but he was already gone, the line dead, "FUCK!"

Don't.


10 Months Later

"You miss him, mon cher." Matilde appeared beside him, radiant as ever with her white-blonde hair wild and loose down her back, dressed in white. She rested her head on his shoulder, gazing out at the countryside that stretched miles to the shore. A cool hand intertwined with his own.

"I don't want to."

"Le Coeur…" She clicked softly with her tongue, a habit that had stayed with her even after becoming a vampire, her French accent thicker than Henri's, "It wants what it wants."

"And what about what I want?" When he said this, Matilde turned to him and softly pressed both her palms to his cheeks, her light silver eyes bright.

"You'll find these things are one in the same. But this," She pointed to his chest, "Always knows before this," She poked him softly on the forehead, "Now come inside and eat." She touched her lips lightly to both cheeks before disappearing back inside.

He'd been in France for months now and it was one of the most beautiful places he'd ever seen. He spent his days sleeping in the fortified, light-proof basement of Henri and Matilde's manor house, and his nights were spent learning the history of the vampires that his sire had collected over the centuries. Or meeting other vampire friends of the Beauforts whom they went hunting with in the woods. Or attending events in town like movies, dinner parties, and gallery openings, of which Stiles learned how to control his bloodlust. They sometimes drank from humans, but only the willing, of which Matilde and Henri had plenty to choose from. Stiles even met other members of his bloodline, one that was so ancient, it went back nearly 3000 years. They were beautiful, all of them, and many had been around for centuries, living in Welsh castles or palaces abandoned in the East. They were a family, old and powerful, of which he suddenly belonged.

But he missed Beacon Hills desperately.

Even when Henri bought Stiles everything he could possibly need, the older vampire knew his progeny wasn't happy. Even Matilde, who had come to love Stiles dearly, advised him to return home. When the Beauforts would appear as the sun set, smelling of dark spice and lust, the sadness that radiated off the young vampire was infectious.

"A letter came from Cora," Henri announced when Stiles stepped inside, accepting a glass filled with blood that Matilde handed to him, "It seems to have made the rounds. No doubt it's been lost among the mail for quite some time. You should read it." The boy took the letter and nearly smiled just seeing the handwriting that was undoubtedly Cora Hale's.

Henri,

You really need to get a normal phone (I know, you like pretending it's still 1673). I'm hoping this gets to you before the year 2017, but I wouldn't bet on it. Sorry for not writing in a while, it's been hectic down here with some rogue hunters on our land. I got a call from Derek about a week ago asking about you, says Stiles Stilinski told him who you are? Did you really turn him and kidnap him? Derek remembered you once I reminded him, but he's got it in his head to come to France and hunt you down. So if Stiles is with you, try and get him to call my brother. I haven't heard Derek sound so upset…Sounds like they're all pretty torn up about Stiles. Anyway, thought I'd give you a heads up in case a pissed off werewolf shows up on your doorstep. Lucky for you I don't know your address! Hope you and Matilde are good. Come visit me in South America sometime soon, we can slather you in sunscreen and lay on the beach.

Love,
Cora

Stiles brought the letter to his nose and inhaled, trying to get a brief scent of Cora that may somehow link him back to Derek. Because even though he couldn't dream, every time he closed his eyes he saw bright, blazing blue ones staring back at him. Worst yet, he could still feel Derek's pain, even though they were oceans apart, and it felt like an extra pang inside of him. It was enough to drive him mad.

"You need to return to Beacon Hills, Stiles." Henri said firmly and the young vampire only laughed bitterly.

"Is that a command?" He knew that any command given to him by his sire, he was forced to obey. Henri had only ever used that power the first day they met.

"Does it have to be?" Matilde walked over to Henri and rested her hands on his shoulders.

"Mon cher…you must go back. A vampire without their bonded mate is a tragedy."

"We aren't bonded. Not like you guys. You guys are Arwen and Aragorn, or Gambit and Rogue…or some other couple you might actually have heard of."

"I've always considered us something like Napoleon and Josephine." Matilde said as she rubbed her mate's shoulders, the vampire turning his head to look at her.

"Do you find me too short?"

"Of course not, mon precieux, you are perfect!" She laughed her soft, musical laugh and pressed her lips to his temple, the scent coming off both of them so filled with love, Stiles looked away. He'd become used to their showing of affection, the way their bonding scent bound them as close as any vampires could be. When they sensed Stiles's sadness, they both stopped and looked at him.

"A bonded vampire doesn't simply stop caring for their mate. You may deny your connection, but it's clear to any supernatural being who can catch your scent. Even now, Derek's claim still lingers on your skin."

"Henri is right. You must go back, Stiles. You must go see him." Matilde urged, moving over to sit beside Stiles on the velvet couch.

"Take Talia's letters to him if you need a reason. Go see your family, your pack. You haven't been yourself in a long time," When Henri said this, Stiles could hardly argue. He'd come to France hoping to start again, but if anything he'd been depressed about everything he left behind, even if he wouldn't admit it, "We will have you back of course. But now…now you need to go home."

"Sure you're not just sick of me?" Stiles whispered and Matilde wrapped her arm around him, pulling him close. The younger vampire rested his head against her shoulder.

"Never, mon cher. You are family," She rubbed his back soothingly, "But there is other family you left behind."

"I don't know if I can do this." Stiles said truthfully, rubbing his face with his hands. It had been almost a year after all and he'd barely even said goodbye. What if they didn't want him back?

"You must. Before the years pass and it becomes too late," Henri stood then, moving gracefully over to an old chest where he pulled out a stack of Talia's old letters. It was when he placed a plane ticket in Stiles's hand did it feel all too real, "What shall you do?" He looked from Henri, his sire who despite having abandoned him in the beginning, had shown him how to control his nature, had shown him every kindness he could, to Matilde, who had taken him in and loved him with a warmth he had been drawn to instantly. In the months with them he had embraced what he was, accepted it even, but he'd left a massive piece of himself behind. A hole in his heart so large it threatened to consume him.

"I'll go."


Ten months passed differently for Derek in Beacon Hills.

After talking to Cora, he found himself remembering the man who used to visit them when they were children. Of Christmas presents carefully brought from across the world. Of learning little French phrases from Laura taught to her as a child. Of his mother sending letters to a 'relative' somewhere in Europe. But even that didn't stop him from wanting to rip the vampire limb from limb for taking Stiles with him. He'd been ready to fly to France when Scott convinced him to stay, claiming that Stiles would come back when he was ready. But Derek feared that day might never come.

He had left so suddenly that the loss was like an absence that affected Derek to his very core. He'd returned to the loft and found that Stiles's scent was everywhere, and it wouldn't leave. There was evidence of him spread out all over the loft, and even after days passed, and weeks, he still lingered like a ghost. The blood that remained in Derek's system began to fade and with it went some strand of connection they had shared. But he realized, once Stiles was gone and he was alone again, that whatever they had went beyond the physical. The vampire had dug himself into Derek's very marrow and his wolf ached for him.

"Still pining, nephew?" Peter had arrived weeks ago, refusing to stay in the loft on the grounds that Derek's moping was too much for him. But it was true. The younger werewolf had been even more distant and closed-mouth than usual, and the whole pack wasn't quite sure what to do.

"Leave me alone." He grumbled out from where he sat on the couch, staring off at nothing.

"You know, it's counterproductive for you to have a male mate. And a vampire at that." When Peter said this nonchalantly, a low growl sounded in Derek's throat.

"He's not my mate!"

"Do you realize what you smell like? Stiles bonded with you. Are you even aware of what that means?" When Derek didn't respond, Peter answered for him, "Different as we claim to be, our species are similar enough. When a vampire bonds, it's for life, just like a mate. And his claim is all over you. I bet you scent-marked him too."

"Don't you have somewhere to be?"

"You're right, I'll leave you to your unproductive staring. It might help if you went out and found some other skinny little thing to bite you." If Derek had the strength to get up and attack his uncle, he might've. But instead he let Peter go, resuming his staring. Even if Stiles had bonded with him, it hadn't mattered. He was gone, and he wasn't coming back.

And the months continued to pass.


"You know I can hardly use a cellphone, Stiles." Henri said worriedly as they stood in the Marseille Airport at night, the three of them looking out of place among the rest of the weary travelers. Henri was in one of his hand-tailored suits, Matilde was ethereal as always in all white, a cream colored scarf wrapped around her head, and even Stiles was dressed in a pair of jeans that probably cost more than all the ones he'd left back home combined.

"Matilde can help you. That way we can at least email each other instead of waiting forever for mail to show up. I think it's time you gave technology a chance, dude." Stiles smiled slightly as he presented Henri with an iPhone, having gotten him a proper laptop with Matilde the night before.

"I make no promises," Henri embraced him and Stiles clung to his sire, feeling the bond between them anytime they touched, "But for you, I will try."

"Stop hogging, mon cher, Henri!" Matilde said, her eyes red from where her tears welled as she grabbed hold of Stiles and hugged him tight, pressing her lips softly to both his cheeks, "Come back to us, Stiles. Either in a month or a hundred years. You will always have a home here."

"This whole thing has been…" Stiles struggled for the words as Matilde held his hands in her cool ones, a soft smile on both their lips, "Pretty weird. And by pretty, I mean very. But you guys make cool vampire parents so I think it evens out somewhere." He gave them a grin and Henri placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Stiles…I must apologize again…" When his sire started to speak, he shook his head.

"No more apologizing, okay? We're here now, and I think I'm okay about what I am. Or I'm at least getting there," He couldn't count the amount of times his sire had apologized, but now, after everything, he knew how much he truly meant it, "Besides, I kinda feel like this was meant to happen, you know?"

"I do. I truly do," Henri said softly as he squeezed Stiles's shoulder, "Now you must go. Before the plane leaves without you." They all embraced one last time, walking him over to the gate where Henri and Matilde stood arm and arm as they watched Stiles walk away. He turned back once to give them a wave, still feeling the echo of their blood that he had tasted over a day ago, connecting them even when they would be miles and oceans apart. And when he turned his back, he realized all at once that he was walking towards Beacon Hills, towards Scott, towards his dad, towards Lydia. Towards Derek.

It felt like something inside of him awakened.


"Stiles?" Scott said in a sleepy, confused voice as he rubbed his eyes, staring at his window where Stiles gracefully slipped inside. The alpha was convinced he was dreaming for a moment until he sat up and Stiles grabbed him in a crushing hug.

"Last time I checked, yeah," Stiles said with a grin as Scott groaned under the strength of the hug. When Stiles pulled back, he held back the bloody tears that welled in his eyes, "Dude…you have no idea how good it is to see you."

"How do you think I feel?" Scott answered back with a grin, but it faded almost immediately and he punched the vampire hard in the arm.

"What the hell was that for?" Stiles said as he rubbed the spot and Scott glared at him.

"For disappearing to Europe without giving me a heads up. Did you see all the Facebook messages I sent you? And I totally kept your dad from calling in the National Guard to hunt you down." Stiles smelled the sharp scent of Scott's sadness, and the cool scent he realized was longing. He knew that Scott had missed him just as much as he had missed the werewolf.

"I'm sorry I just….I kinda freaked out and needed to leave. I didn't think I just…did. It was my sire who convinced me to come back."

"The guy we were planning on injecting with Lydia's blood and interrogating him?" Scott said skeptically and Stiles nodded.

"The very one. He's a great guy once you get around the whole 'he-turned-me-into-a-vampire-on-accident-kinda' thing." Stiles went into the story of how Henri had turned him, his connection to the Hale's, all the way through his stay in France. By the end, Scott silently went over it all in his head before speaking.

"Derek's been a mess since you left. More than the usual. And if he really is your mate or your First Bitten, or whatever…you really need to go talk to him." Scott said firmly and Stiles looked down at his pale hands.

"I know. That's why I came back…to figure out what to do," When Scott made a face at him, Stiles added, "And to, you know, let you know I was alive and beg your forgiveness for abandoning you all."

"Better."

"Guess I need to face the music, huh?"

"Yeah. Want me to go with you there? I can stop you if you try to bail." After all these months, here Scott was still acting like a best friend without a second thought. Stiles smiled at the thought and gave him a pat on the back.

"Honestly man, I think this is something I need to do on my own."

"I've got your back, no matter what happens."

"I know. You always do."


Which is how Stiles ended up on the balcony of Derek's loft, pacing back and forth, unsure exactly how to approach this entire thing. He kept going over lines in his head without any success. Hey Derek, long time no see, turns out we're bonded mates. Sorry about that. Or things like: Howdy, big guy, just blew into town to give you some letters your mom wrote to the vampire that bit me, thought you'd like to have them. But the more he contemplated, the worst his ideas got, and the more nervous he felt. It was when the golden pale light of morning started appearing in the sky did he get panicked.

"Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit." He muttered as he quickly weighed his options. It was either risk making it into some kind of light-tight space with the mere seconds, possibly minutes he had, go into Derek's place where he knew it was safe, or burn to death. There was really only one feasible option.

So he knocked on the blacked-out glass door.

Derek heard the knock from his bedroom, up late reading as he did most nights now. Even months later, he still found himself awake at night, daytime was something he dealt with rarely now. The sound was so urgent, he hurried down the stairs, unsure who (or what) had made it all the way onto his balcony. He extended his claws for good measure. And then he opened the door.

Stiles's silver eyes met Derek's blue, and all at once he could smell the deep sadness, the listlessness, and then the sudden sharp shocked scent of surprise. Followed by the desperate attempt to conceal any kind of reaction. Stiles found himself unable to speak as he looked at Derek, unable to convey the hundreds of things he needed to say. Derek was growling low in his throat, but Stiles couldn't read it, not from the way he smelled, or the unyielding stare he gave. Stiles didn't even notice when he skin started smoking, the back of his neck and arms starting to burn as the sun rose in the sky. But he knew that Derek needed to make the first move, to accept him in. If it came to groveling, Stiles might do it. Because seeing the werewolf now, he realized just how much he had missed him.

Over the last months, Derek had imagined about a hundred different things he would say to Stiles if he ever returned. Most of them involved yelling of some kind, or things that he knew would cause the vampire pain. He'd gone over and over it in his head, knowing exactly how it would go. But now, as he saw Stiles before him, skin starting to sear, silver eyes wide with excitement, fear, and longing, his body seemed to react before he did. The words were out of his lips before he could stop them.

"Get in." Derek growled out, more sounds than words themselves, and with it came that honeyed scent off his skin, and that was the only invitation Stiles needed.

He had barely stepped over the threshold and Derek's warm hands were on him. Stiles slammed the door shut, surprised it didn't shatter under the pressure, and brought his cool hands to the werewolf's neck. Their lips met so hard that Stiles's elongated fangs drew blood, and the vampire moaned the moment it touched his tongue. How had he ever gone without this?

Derek pulled Stiles's hips against his, walking backward until they hit a table. Warm hands moved under Stiles's shirt as claws dug into the cool skin at his waist, a hiss coming from the vampire's lips that Derek silenced with his tongue. Stiles moved his hands to the material of the undershirt Derek wore and shredded it off his chest completely, a noise of approval all he got as he tossed it aside and pressed a cool hand against where the werewolf's heart beat wildly in his chest. It was as if the drumming refocused him, and he pulled back slightly, burying his face in the crook of Derek's neck as he inhaled the scent that he'd missed so much. His scent.

"Bite me." Derek commanded, feeling cool lips against his throat. At this moment, the world seemed so completely surreal that the command seemed natural, obvious, yet still Stiles hesitated. After months of deciding exactly what he would say to the vampire when he returned, here they were, not unlike how this whole thing started, and he didn't know if he should feel anger, sadness, or relief.

"No…not like this." Stiles muttered, fighting every urge to obey. He could feel Derek's arousal against his leg, feel his own, and even though it would be so easy to keep going, he knew he couldn't. For a moment, Derek's own nose inhaled deeply against Stiles's neck, his dark spice mixing with the werewolf's scent, but what he said next made Stiles freeze.

"Isn't that what you came here for?" The vampire stepped back at the words, looking at Derek with eyes that were nearly black with lust. Anger rolled off the werewolf so suddenly Stiles almost shrunk away.

"I came back for you," That seemed to silence Derek as Stiles walked back to the door and picked up the stack of letters he'd thrown to the side, "To explain why I left. If it means I never get to drink your blood again to prove that, I'll do it."

"You need to leave." Derek said in a quiet voice, but Stiles didn't move.

"I could feel your pain, you know. All the way across the world and I knew what I did to you…You might not believe me, but I felt the same way. And I told myself that it didn't make any sense and that it would get better. But it didn't get fucking better."

"What do you want me to say, Stiles? That I forgive you? Will that get you out of my house?" Derek pressed back into the table, getting angrier than he ever expected. All ten months of sadness coming out at once.

"And burn to death outside?"

"Do you think I give a shit what happens to you?" Derek said the lie and knew the vampire sensed it. But Stiles didn't say that he did, instead he handed the werewolf the stack of letters.

"Here. Henri thought you should have these. It's most of the letters your mom sent to him," Derek hadn't expected to receive the letters, and looking down at his mother's familiar handwriting softened some of the anger that had risen up in his chest, "This was a bad idea. I'll go into the basement or something…then I'll be gone." Stiles couldn't look at Derek, not like this. Maybe this whole thing really had been a mistake, no matter how much he longed to be near him. He would hide out for the day in the basement of the building, gather his things, and leave back to Europe the first chance he got. He turned then, making for Derek's front door when the werewolf's voice called him back.

"You were gone," Stiles turned around to look at Derek, the pain coming off of him almost like a physical thing, "You were gone and none of us knew where you went, if you were okay…How could you just do that?"

"I did it for you." Stiles said, eyes full of pain but Derek only let out a dark laugh.

"Don't fucking give me that."

"Well it's the truth. I left so you could have a chance at something normal, not be forced into whatever this is between us. I wanted you, all of you, to have a choice." Stiles said truthfully and Derek only shook his head.

"And why do you get to make that decision for me? I want…" Derek trailed off, something in him not ready to say the words out loud. To finally commit to the idea that he needed Stiles in his life.

"It's our blood. That's all this ever was. We shared each other's blood and did some crazy supernatural magic to us that bound us together. I thought it would wear off if I left but…" It didn't. Stiles didn't have to say it, because they both knew it was the complete opposite. And from everything Henri had told him, this wasn't just something that went away. A bonded vampire didn't just stop being bonded.

"This isn't because of some blood connection we have," Derek felt himself spilling out emotion, and he feared if he tried to close it off, the vampire might leave and never come back, and he couldn't handle that, not again, "It's more than that."

"Is it?" Stiles felt the blood tears well in his eyes but they didn't fall, "You mean to tell me if I wasn't a vampire, we would've ended up together? That everything would be the same if I didn't drink your blood that night?"

"I don't know, Stiles! I'll never know the answer to that. But whether you're a vampire or not, you're still you. And I…" He trailed off then, but looking in those bright, silver eyes made him realize this wasn't the time to hold back, "I want you. Vampire or not."

"I want you too…" Stiles said in a near whisper, but he thought back to what Henri said and it kept him from going over to the werewolf.

"Then why did you leave?"

"Because I forced you into all this without even realizing it," He took an unnecessary deep breath as he explained what Henri had told him about being First Bitten and the mixing of their blood, "So your bad sunburn? It's because you drank my blood. And if we kept it up you would've been immortal. I couldn't be the one who forced you into that just because I bonded with you…even if you don't now, you'd resent me for that." Derek went quiet for a moment as he took in the implications of what Stiles said. The vampire couldn't lock down the multitude of feels that passed through the werewolf and had no idea what exactly he was feeling the strongest.

"You need to stop making decisions for me," Derek dared to step closer to Stiles, bringing his hands up to cup the vampire's neck, thumbs brushing against his cheeks, "And disappearing when all it does is make us both miserable."

"You don't get it! It's the blood talking…you don't want to be stuck with me forever!" Stiles felt a panic rise in his chest, but Derek's hands were firm, keeping their eyes locked.

"How would you know that?"

"Because! You're you! Mister No-Commitment! Allergic to feeling attached to someone! Then I had to become a vampire and basically hypnotize you into wanting to be with me. I wanted to free you from all of this, don't you get that?" Stiles pleaded with him and Derek looked at him with brows furrowed for a moment, remaining silent as Stiles let out his rant.

"Stiles…"

"No, don't try and convince me otherwise. Once my blood finally leaves your system completely you'll be able to see it and…"

"And what about when my blood leaves your system?" Derek asked as he raised an eyebrow, gently caressing the cool skin under his thumbs in a distracting way. But Stiles tried his best not to focus on it.

"It won't matter…I…when a vampire bonds, it doesn't just go away," Stiles felt sadness wash over him and he feared the werewolf sensed it, "But it's okay. I can deal with that. I can…" Before he could say anything else, Derek pressed his lips to his, the touch so soft and tender Stiles didn't try and pull back. He remained still as their lips met, the werewolf lingering only for a moment before pulling back.

"Wolves mate for life, Stiles."

"But I'm…I can't be your mate." His voice was a whisper when he spoke, but the scent coming off of Derek hid no kind of lie.

"You are," Derek said it firmly, knowing the truth in his words even as Stiles stood looking at him slightly dumbfounded, "Maybe you always were. Maybe it wasn't meant to happen until you became a vampire. But you need to stop trying to make this all about science and magic, because it's not just that. It's about if you leave again…I'm coming with you." Stiles stared into Derek's eyes for a moment before throwing himself into his arms, wrapping his own cool arms tightly around the werewolf as he buried his face in his neck.

"I fucking missed you so much, dude," Months later, after everything, it was all Stiles had wanted to hear, that he wasn't crazy and they weren't just having sex for the sake of their own desires. That this meant something more than either one of them had understood. He pulled back and pressed his lips softly to Derek's jaw, "I'm sorry," He brought his lips to his cheek, the corner of his eye, his temple, "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry," Across his forehead, the top of his nose, the scruff of his other cheek, the corner of his lips, "I freaked out. I saw what I was capable of and wanted to protect you from it. I really, really fucked up."

"You came back." Derek whispered against Stiles's cheek and the vampire nodded.

"I had to. I just felt so goddamn empty…" Derek's arms pulled Stiles closer and pressed his nose into the crook of his neck, inhaling the familiar, dark scent of the vampire.

"I know. Me too." They stood like that for a while, breathing in each other's scents, until the weariness overcame Stiles so suddenly he knew his body needed to shut down. Derek was supporting all of his weight as he slumped into him.

"Can we skip to the part where we naked? I miss that part." Stiles grinned as he pulled back, looking at Derek with half-lidded eyes.

"You can barely stand, Stiles."

"When has that ever stopped me?"

"Come on." Derek said softly as he half-carried the vampire over to the storage closet, opening it up to reveal that he hadn't altered a single thing. When Stiles inhaled, he caught the lingering scent of Derek in the room, and he wondered how often the werewolf had come and slept in here. The thought made his chest ache.

"You didn't change anything…"

"I couldn't." Stiles nuzzled against Derek then, wanting to soothe the sharp hints of pain that hid underneath his scent. In silence they started to undress, Derek helping Stiles out of his plaid shirt and t-shirt, unbuckling his jeans. He kicked off his shoes and slid out of his boxers, Derek's eyes on him the entire time. He got under the covers on the air mattress and held a hand out to Derek.

"Come here…please." He begged softly and Derek was already pulling down his sweatpants, a low noise in Stiles's throat sounding when he realized he had nothing on under him. As if reacting to the sound, the werewolf's scent flared up tantalizingly. Stiles's body was at complete war with itself, fighting between the biological need to sleep while the sun was up and the deep urge to reclaim Derek as his. When the werewolf got into bed beside him, Stiles curled up closer, locking their legs together as their eyes met.

"You need to sleep."

"Need and want are two very different things." Stiles ran a cool hand up Derek's burning chest, the werewolf's eyes closing at the touch.

"Stiles…" Derek said warningly, the familiarity of it making a soft smile cross the vampire's face.

"I know. Just hold me, okay? Don't let go?" Stiles's voice was soft, but Derek didn't hesitate. He moved closer and wrapped an arm around the vampire, their bodies nearly completely pressed together, and Stiles curled into the warmth like a moth to a flame.

"I won't."

As Stiles's eyes closed and his body began to shut down, Derek's own eyes shut, even though he was determined to imprint this all into his memory. But before he knew it, he was asleep too.

And for the first time in almost a year, he slept through the day.


Derek let out a gasp of pleasure as he felt slick, wet, cool around his dick. His eyes opened, flashing blue as he pulled back the blanket to watch as Stiles's lips moved up and down his length. The vampire glanced up at him, mischief in his silver eyes as his hand wrapped around the base of Derek's dick and started to sync with his mouth, causing him to throw his head back on the pillow. It was when he felt a fang brush his sensitive skin did he almost lose it. Stiles didn't stop there. Seconds after Derek came, the vampire trailed his lips down his inner thigh, pushing open the werewolf's legs as a whine escaped his lips.

"Please…" Derek muttered as cool lips caressed his inner thigh, feeling the smirk against his skin. When Stiles bit down, Derek arched his back in pleasure, not realizing just how much he had missed this. The vampire drank slowly, biting down harder as Derek let out a moan. He slowly tongued the wound, closing it as he trailed bloody kisses up the warm chest beneath him.

"You like that?" He asked in a low voice, silver eyes so dark they were almost black.

"Yeah…" Derek nearly growled out as he reached down a hand and wrapped it around Stiles's length, the vampire letting out a hiss as he started to pump his hand. But Stiles reached out and grabbed Derek's wrist, stopping him.

"I'm good."

"You're good?" Derek asked with a cocked eyebrow and Stiles nearly reconsidered from the sheer attractiveness of that face.

"Yeah dude, don't worry about me." Derek moved his hand despite Stiles's touch and the vampire's eyes closed.

"You don't seem good," His voice was low, sensual, husky in a way that made Stiles ache to touch him everywhere. He stopped moving his hand when Stile's tightened on his wrist, "Are you trying to punish yourself for leaving?"

"I mean…I might be…" Stiles said softly, his breath hitching when Derek moved to nip at the cool skin of his neck, hand slowly starting to move again.

"Doesn't work," Derek's hand started to move faster and Stiles's dug his sharpened nails into his skin hard enough to draw blood, "Wouldn't you rather I took my aggression out on you?"

"Yep, yep, I'd totally rather that. Shit!" The vampire cried out as he leaned his head against Derek's shoulder, calling out his name when he came. Before Stiles could say another word, the werewolf flipped him over, pressing his body down into the mattress as he moved on top of him, warm weight crushing him down. Stiles moved his hips back until they pressed against the front of Derek's, the werewolf already hard again.

"Tell me what you want, Stiles." Derek had already grabbed the lube and when Stiles felt a finger tease around his entrance, he let out a string of curses before answering.

"You. You. I really fucking need you," Derek barely gave him any warning before he entered him, penetrating him slowly as he leaned forward and bit down hard into the vampire's shoulder, drawing blood. Stiles cried out as he felt Derek start to move inside of him, taking a long pull at his cool blood as he did, "Derek…my blood…you shouldn't." A low growl sounded beside his ear as he felt bloody lips against his throat.

"I need to feel you again." When he said it, Stiles almost collapsed under him, but he felt the soft touch of lips against his neck and wondered how he ever thought he could give this up. Derek's hips rolled into his as he licked at the blood from the wound he made, it closing almost immediately. It was when Stiles's dark scent flared up with his climax did Derek bite down again, staying inside of him as he pressed his wrist to the vampire's lips and commanded him to drink.

The minute Stiles bit into Derek's wrist, the bonded vampire within him swelled with satisfaction. He moaned as the blood hit his tongue, Derek's body giving one final thrust as he came, fangs still in Stiles. He couldn't remember shifting into beta-form, but it happened, claw marks running down Stile's chest. They remained like that, more connected than they ever were before, for a few breathless moments before Stiles closed the wound on the werewolf's wrist and Derek carefully pulled out. They laid out beside each other, spent and sated, as Stiles looked over at Derek.

"That was…" He didn't exactly know what, and Derek only nodded slightly.

"Yeah…"

"Like…"

"I know."

"You shouldn't have drank my blood." When Stiles said this, Derek remained quiet for a moment as his scent shifted to something close to acceptance.

"I wanted to."

"But you know what it's going to do to you!" Stiles's voice was almost angry and the werewolf let out a soft laugh.

"Someone needs to watch out for you. Might as well be me." Derek finally looked over at Stiles, his words a testament to what they were becoming. More than friends. More than lovers. He knew full well what the vampire's blood would do, and for once, the impending future, long as it may be for them now, didn't fill him with dread.

"You really mean that?" Stiles's voice was soft as he looked at Derek, the werewolf taking his cool hand in his warm one.

"I wouldn't say it if I didn't mean it." Derek rubbed his thumb soothingly on Stiles's hand and the vampire closed his eyes, intoxicated by the smell of happiness that came out of the werewolf. He realized it was one of the first times he had truly smelled it.

"Hang on, I want you to read something." Stiles got up suddenly and with vampire speed went into Derek's kitchen and grabbed the stack of letters from where he'd let them. Ever since yesterday morning, they'd been preoccupied in bed, but now there was one particular letter Stiles wanted Derek to see.

"I don't know about this…" Derek said hesitantly when the vampire returned, cuddling back under the blankets as he undid the ties that bound all the letters together. He searched through the stack of them before finding the one he wanted.

"I think this'll be good for you. You can finally get a sense of how important you really are. To me and everyone else," Stiles handed Derek the letter, the stamp on it a dinosaur one that he vaguely remembered picking out when he was a child, "I must've read this one a hundred times when I was gone." Inhaling and exhaling deeply through his nose, Derek dared to open the letter. The first thing that came out was a marker drawing of his family, so poorly done it was hard to distinguish who everyone was. But Derek knew. Part of him thought he remembered his mother telling him to draw a picture of all of them to send to a relative. He thought he would never see it again. By the time he pulled the letter out, Stiles was already rubbing his back.

Dear Henri,

Bonjour, mon amie! I thought it would be good to brush up on my French for the next time I visit, though I might have to wait until all the pups are grown. I know it hasn't been long since I saw you, but I miss you and Matilde so much! You should see how big Cora has gotten, and she's almost walking too. Laura is helping out but she'll be starting junior high soon and it's all she thinks about. Derek is my real helping hand around here. I've never known a sweeter, kinder boy than him. He likes to read little Cora stories at night and he even shows some talent as a budding artist (I included a picture for proof). If I could freeze time and keep him this young and innocent forever, I would, just to keep him safe from all the harm this world can bring. How have you handled it so gracefully over the years, Henri? Do you have any tips for raising my little wolves? It's strange…I know my boy will do such great things when he's older, even though I know it's something all mother's say. Laura can be so free spirited, but Derek…I look at him and see an old soul. Even you said when you saw him last 'mon petit etoile'…My Little Star. When he's older, whether I'm here or not, look after him, okay? Though I know you'll take care of all my children no matter where life may take them.

Give my love to Matilde, the loveliest woman in France,

Talia

Derek reread the letter three times before finally just staring down at it, convinced there was some hidden scent of his mother hidden within the old paper. He brought it to his nose and smelled Stiles, smelled vampires he didn't know, and faintly, barely distinguishable, he swore he smelled the smokey, sugary, oak scent of his mother. He felt tears well in his eyes but he didn't let them fall. For so long he remained disconnected from his family he had lost, but now, now he felt like a piece of his mother had been given back to him.

"Thank you…" He muttered out, Stiles still rubbing his back, "For all of these."

"She was right, you know. About who you are, and who you became. Even if you don't believe it," Stiles leaned in and rested his chin on Derek's shoulder, "Henri told me that maybe it's time you had a new guardian to watch over you. One that would die to protect you, or kill anyone that has the balls to try and mess with you. If you plan on watching out for me, then I'm gonna watch out for you."

"Guess I'm stuck with you then."

"You should've realized that a long time ago, big guy," A smile crossed the vampire's lips as Derek turned and looked into his silvery eyes, "So we're doing this forever thing, huh? Or at least until I annoy you so much your head pops off or something."

"I've made it this far, haven't I?"

"Yeah, you have." The happiness flared out of Derek in an infectious burst, making a grin cross Stiles's lips as he touched his palm against his wild, pounding heart.

And they sealed the promise with a kiss.


20 Years Later

"We're gonna miss our flight, Stiles!" Derek called upstairs as he waited impatiently at the bottom. The werewolf knew they couldn't exactly miss their flight; the plane wouldn't leave without its only two passengers. And Stiles knew it too.

"I can't find my pants!" He called down to Derek who grumbled in false annoyance. The slight amusement in the vampire's voice had him climbing the stairs and walking towards their room, "Wanna see if you can help with that?" A smirk spread across Stiles's lips the minute Derek appeared in the doorway, trying very hard to maintain a frown.

"Stiles…we don't have time…" Derek muttered as Stiles walked over and pulled him close by his belt loops, connecting them at the hips.

"Dude, all we've got is time." Derek felt the vampire's smirk against his skin as lips trailed across his throat. When fangs brushed on his pulse point, he inhaled sharply, honeyed scent rolling off his skin.

"Stiles…" Derek said warningly as the vampire rolled his hips into his, a soft laugh sounding in his throat.

"You really want me to stop?" He purred in Derek's ear, and when the werewolf didn't argue, Stiles pressed a soft kiss to his throat, ready to sink his teeth into his bonded mate. It was the buzzing of their doorbell that made him stop with a groan.

"Your pants are on the floor in the closet. I'll get the door," The werewolf said as he pulled away from Stiles, heading for the bedroom door when the vampire grabbed his hand and pulled him back for a quick kiss, "Insatiable…" He muttered with a grin against the vampire's lips and he let out a laugh.

"I'm gonna be a teenage boy forever, what do you expect?" Derek gave him a playful glare as he went down and opened the door to their apartment, getting an armful of Matilde as she flung herself at him and kissed both his cheeks.

"Mon etolie! Je suis desolee que nous en retard." She stepped into the apartment apologizing for being late, dressed in white and beige, Henri following behind her with his hand on the small of her back.

"Il est bon de vous voir, Matilde." Derek answered, happy to see the two again, having learned to speak some French after spending nearly two years with the older vampires. Just like his family before him, he too had fallen in love with the bonded mates. Henri shook his hand with a smile.

"I trust my progeny hasn't been too much of a hassle?"

"No more than usual," Derek smiled slightly at the thought, "Stiles! Come on!" He yelled upstairs before speaking to Henri again, "How is Cora?"

"She's doing well. And she sends her love. She requested I give you a punch in the arm for her, but I politely declined."

"I appreciate that." Derek said, thinking fondly of his little sister and how she, despite being a mother of two rowdy boys, still hadn't changed. It was then Stiles appeared, miraculously carrying their luggage, ready to go.

"Ah, my two favorite vamps," Stiles put down the bags to embrace his sire first, then receive kisses from Matilde who gently held his face in her hands, "How was the trip?"

"Barbant, mon cher. But it was worth all the trouble to see you again, even in passing."

"Isn't your flight to leave soon?" Henri asked and Derek glared at his mate who only rolled his eyes, "Feel free to stay at my home in Beacon Hills, and of course give our love to the rest of the pack."

"Will do, Hen." Stiles said as he embraced the two again, giving them a copy of their keys. The older vampires had come not only to watch the apartment while Derek and Stiles visited California, but they were planning on spending time in the U.S. for a while. No doubt in a few years' time, Stiles would drag Derek across Europe again, all made possible by the bank account Henri opened in his progeny's name. Stiles had asked him not to, but the older vampire insisted. Apparently, he was still living off his assets from the Renaissance.

"Be safe! Call us when you land, mes cheris!" Matilde said as they got into the car that waited for them, her giving Derek an extra squeeze because she thought he always needed it. Stiles waved to his sire and his bonded mate as the car pulled away, sighing contentedly as he leaned into the familiar warmth that was Derek.

"Happy to be going home?" The werewolf asked as Stiles's lazily played with his hand before holding it.

"Yeah, totally. It's been what? Like almost two years?"

"Something like that." The last time they'd been in Beacon Hills was for a huge Christmas celebration, making sure to lay low so no one in town recognized them. Everyone had been there; Lydia had returned from London with Jackson (after reuniting with him during a trip that Stiles happened to plan very strategically), Sheriff Stilinski, Melissa, Scott and Kira with their kids in tow, Deaton, Cora (after much convincing), and Isaac even returned from his permanent residence with Chris Argent's hunters in Northern France. The pack had finally been reunited, even if it was only for a week. And now they were coming together again for John and Melissa's 10 year anniversary party.

"Thanks." Stiles muttered as he rested his head against Derek's shoulder, the werewolf's scent becoming slightly confused, mingled with his general happiness. As the years passed, Derek's typical scent of slight sadness and guilt had morphed into something much lighter. He didn't have to tell Stiles he was happy, the vampire knew.

"For what?"

"For coming with me," Derek rubbed his thumb soothingly against Stiles's cool hand, "And for sticking around me all these years. I don't think I tell you that enough."

"You don't have to."

And with that, Stiles nuzzled against his neck and they fell into a comfortable silence. That much closer to home.


"Come here you little bug!" Stiles chased after his goddaughter who laughed hysterically, running away from the vampire through Scott and Kira's house as fast as her eight-year-old legs could carry her. They had barely stepped through the door and Stiles had started chasing after her.

"Be careful!" Derek warned out cautiously as a timid little four-year-old appeared, hand clutching a pack of glittery pink stickers as she eyed the werewolf, shy smile on her lips, "Are those for me?" When she nodded, he crouched down and beckoned her over.

"Do you like pink, Uncle Derek?" She said in a little voice before cautiously pulling a sticker off.

"It's my favorite color, Erica," When he said this, she beamed, placing the sticker right on his cheek, "How does it look?"

"Silly!"

"Silly?" He said in fake disbelief as she let out a laugh and he swept her up into his arms, flipping her upsidedown as she laughed. Stiles appeared hand-in-hand with the other girl, two purple barrettes in his hair.

"I think Uncle Derek needs a makeover, what do you think, Allison?" Stiles asked the oldest girl and she grinned wickedly and nodded.

"We can make him look like a princess!"

"Now there's a fantastic idea." Stiles returned the grin as Derek swung little Erica onto his shoulders and she stuck another sticker on his forehead, hands messing with his hair. Just like Henri was to the Hale's, Stiles made himself the guardian of the McCall pack, swearing to protect them for the rest of his days. The moment Allison was born, Derek swore to as well, falling in love with both little girls the moment he held them as babies. They were family, and they were pack.

"I don't think Uncle Derek would make a very good princess, sweety." Scott said as he walked into the room, a soft smile on his lips. At nearly 40 years old, the Alpha looked more like his father, but still had the kindness that radiated off him like always. Which helped when you were Beacon Hills primary veterinarian and animal surgeon. Deaton had stepped down over five years ago and Scott took over, expanding into an animal shelter as well.

"Scotty, my favorite were-dad." Stiles grinned at his old friend, giving him a bear hug.

"Were-dad?"

"Like it? I haven't thought of a good one for Kira but it's only a matter of time."

"My eyes started to glow two months ago!" Allison piped up and it was Derek who answered, carefully setting Erica down on the ground.

"Did they? You're getting to be a big girl, Allie." Derek glanced at Scott who gave him a pleading look, knowing that the older werewolf was still his go-to for all things wolf-related. And having two supernatural little girls was definitely something he and Kira needed advice on.

"They grow up fast, huh dude?" Stiles said as he patted Scott on the back and he looked at his girls, shaking his head.

"Too fast," It was then Allison grabbed Erica's hand and made off to play, running in the direction of where Kira was attempting dinner in the kitchen, "Hey we've got the spare room all set up for you guys if you wanna stay here?"

"We're gonna hole up in the loft for the next few days. Besides, you don't want us breaking any of your furniture." Stiles wiggled his eyebrows and Derek frowned at him, Scott making a disgusted noise.

"Bro…too much information," Scott quickly changed the subject, and Derek was silently relieved, "Wanna stay for dinner? Kira's making her mom's famous stir fry and I promised the girls we'd go get ice cream." Derek and Stiles met eyes, the scent coming off of them both giving Scott his answer.

"You know dude, it was a long flight and we'd really better make sure the loft's all good…" Scott held up a hand and smiled slightly.

"Say no more. Seriously. I'll see you tomorrow?" Scott asked as he lead them back outside.

"You know I wouldn't miss it for the world."

With that, the two best friends, pack-mates, and now official brothers, gave each other one last hug before parting, one heading into the night with his bonded mate, the other heading to join his family for dinner.


"Wow…it really has been awhile since we've been here. It smells like an old lady's purse."

The loft was exactly how they'd left it, furniture covered in sheets to keep away the dust, appliances left unplugged in the kitchen, most things packed away in boxes. The windows were still all blacked out and the electricity had been turned off. Before Derek could go and find candles, Stiles took off at vampire speed, pulling sheets off furniture and lighting candles around the place, illuminating the space in a soft glow. He stopped in front of the werewolf with a grin.

"Pretty spry for a dead guy, huh?"

"I think you've proved that plenty of times." At Derek's words, Stiles took a slow step towards him, slinking like a predator as his eyes darkened, spicy scent flaring up.

"This is exactly where I tasted you for the first time," A low sound rumbled in Derek's throat as Stiles's lips went to his neck, fangs brushing where his honeyed scent of arousal was the strongest. But he didn't move as words were whispered against his skin, "Do you remember?"

"I couldn't forget that." And he knew it was the truth. Not in a thousand years would he forget the first time Stiles drank his blood. In an instant, Stiles had pushed him to the ground, straddling his thighs just like he had over two decades ago, fangs extending in a wicked grin.

"I couldn't help myself, you know. Still can't." Stiles leaned down and kissed at Derek's pulse point, feeling the warmth of the life inside of him. The werewolf slid his hands up his thighs and pulled Stiles closer down on him.

"Stop teasing me, Stiles." He grumbled as Stiles laughed, feeling Derek's arousal pressing into him. He gently scratched a fang across his neck, drawing shallow blood that he tasted only for a moment before closing the wound and hopping off the werewolf.

"I like when you get all hot and bothered. And don't even try and deny it, you're glowing." He smirked as Derek stood up, eyes glowing blue. He let out a frustrated growl and went to grab at Stiles who lithely avoided his hands and went for the storage closet, opening the door to gaze in at the room he had called home for so long. He stared in at the surroundings, having changed drastically from that first few months. There was a real bed, posters on the walls, a small bookshelf, bins for his clothes. He was sure he'd spent more time sleeping (among other activities) in here with Derek than anywhere else. It was then the werewolf came behind him and grabbed hold of his hips, pressing into him from behind as warm lips trailed across his neck.

"You want me in here?" He muttered against Stiles's skin, the vampire tilting his head to let his bonded mate mark him with his scent, his eyes closing.

"Dude, I want you everywhere."

That statement was enough. Derek turned Stiles so their lips finally met, warm arms coming around the vampire and he melted into the embrace. They fell onto the bed, trying not to completely shred each other's clothes as they undressed, Stiles losing completely as he tore Derek's undershirt in half. He let out a laugh against the werewolf's warm collarbone that turned to a moan when a hand started to stroke him. Derek too let out a hiss of pleasure when Stiles's nails dug into his shoulders, fangs biting into his neck.

They fucked face to face, making it easier to share each other's blood. They came together, bound by every way mates could be, and stayed like that until the bite wound on Stiles closed, Derek pulling out as the vampire curled up beside him, still sucking at the wound he'd yet to close. He entwined their legs, knowing that Derek liked to share his warmth, and draped himself over the werewolf's chest.

"I think pink really is your color," Smiling softly, he plucked one of Erica's stickers off of Derek's forehead that he'd forgotten about. They stayed curled up for a few more moment before Stiles spoke again, "You hungry? I could make you…" He was about to get up but Derek's arms tightened around him.

"Don't move." He muttered out, eyes closed. The vampire smiled and licked the wound, closing it.

"I like when you get all cuddly."

"I'm not cuddly."

"Oh, bullshit," Stiles sunk down and wrapped his arms around Derek, entwined on him every way he could. But he learned over the years that the werewolf liked the closeness, preferred it, "It's a miracle we get anything done. What with how you can't even keep your damn paws off of me."

"We're going to that party tomorrow. That's why we came." Derek said firmly as if the vampire was suggesting otherwise.

"I know we're going…we just might get there late," He pressed a soft kiss against the werewolf's chest and he made a soft rumble of approval, "Besides, 10 years isn't even that big a deal. I mean, fuck, dude, we've been together for twenty."

"Don't remind me…" Derek cracked an eye open, a slightly amused look crossing his face.

"You'd better get used to it, buddy, because I'm your one way ticket to looking hot forever so you'd best be nice to me. I'm not just some damn milk maid. Well, blood maid I guess in this case." When Stiles said this, Derek repositioned them, turning Stiles onto his back as both his warm hands came up to cup the vampire's face. It was times like these when he was so gentle, did Stiles understand why he had always cared so much for his wolf. As their eyes met, Stiles's turned a light, piercing silver, the color they always did when looking at his mate.

"You know that isn't what you are to me."

"I know." He reached a cool hand up to cover Derek's.

"I chose you. Forever was just part of the deal," It was like the werewolf knew that Stiles sometimes doubted pulling him into this life, like maybe he hadn't wanted it the same. But after twenty years of traveling the world, getting into fights, making up, laughing together, knowing each other every way a person could, he knew Derek was right there with him, "I love you."

The first time Derek had said it was nearly nineteen years ago, standing in the forest surrounding Beacon Hills during a full moon. Stiles had been crawling out of his skin, affected by sharing so much of each other's blood, feeling lethal and monstrous, wanting to tear into something. And Derek had been the one to volunteer. While Stiles had laid on the ground, shaking and crying over the harm he'd caused to the werewolf, Derek had taken him into his arms and whispered he loved him. Over and over again. And he'd kept saying it every time he knew the vampire needed it over their many years together. And planned to say it many more.

"I love you, too," Stiles said back, the happiness coming off of Derek infectious as he leaned in and nuzzled the vampire's neck, "We should do something big for our 100th anniversary. Maybe like climb Mount Everest, or deep sea dive, or hike the Appalachian Trail…wait, those are all way too much work. What if we rent out Dracula's castle and bang in every room? That could be exciting…"

"Shut up, Stiles." Derek whispered against his lips, feeling vampire's grin.

And, like always, he silenced him with a kiss.