...And it's done! Thanks to all of you for reviewing and stuff! It really helped me out! Any way, special thanks to:

yuki90 for being awesome and inspiring me to write this

Shadow Kyo for being the 5th reviewer

all of you guys for getting me to get off my lazy ass and write this!

Please R&R if you haven't already!

Disclaimer: I do not own Teen Wolf (yet) I only own the plot line for this fanfic!

Stiles sighed as the warm water ran over his dirt-covered body. He had been training with the puppies all day, and they had worn him out. Heh. Puppies. Stiles chuckled to himself. Suddenly, the warm watter turned chilly, then ice cold as he finally gained the energy to move and turn it off. Grabbing a towel, he dashed through the cold house to his room to find warmth in the comforter. Locking the door behind him, he flopped on the bed, letting the day's events run through his head.
Stiles was doing wepon training with Allison when Jackson wandered over. He just stared at them for a while, not glareing, just stareing. It was kind of freaking out Stiles a bit. Not much, but a bit. Suddenly, he ran right in the path of the knife Stiles was throwing and caught it before it hit the target. Jackson pinned Stiles to the wall, putting the knife at his throght. "...and what do you think you're doing?" Jaskson finally spat out. Stiles blinked in confusen, only to be pushed further up the wall. "Well, Stilnski?"
"I-I-I don't know what you're talking about!"
"You heard me. What's a weak human like you doing at a werewolf meeting?"
"I'm part of this pack too, you know!" Stiles was enraged. How could anyone say he wasn't part of his own pack? The pack he shed his own blood to create? Jackson snickered.
"How could a weakling like you be pack? The only reason you're Derek's mate is because he likes your looks. No more, no less."
No more, no less. Those words swarmed arround in Stiles head as he searched underneath his bed. He had run home after that, not looking back or bothering to take his jeep. After a while, he found it: a little black box. After Derek had found him cutting the first time, he had gone around the house and discarded all the knifes he was useing for cutting. What he didn't know, was that Stiles had a pack of razor-blades. Armed with his new blade, he broke his streak of 23 self-injury free days. Stiles had forgotten how good the metal felt, how satisfying the scraping of the skin was. He had forgotten it all, and he wasn't going to forget it anytime soon.
***POV change line break!***
Derek dashed through the town twords Stiles house. It wasn't that bad, was it...? I mean, Jackson has said some pretty nasty stuff in the past, so this shouldn't be that bad, right...? After hearing that Stiles had rushed home, he had run to Stiles house. He was fine at the time, a little down, yes, but it was nothing to worry about. When he got back to the house, he asked Alison what had happened. She told him everything, spareing no small detail. When she had gotten to the part where Jackson had said "No more, No less," Derek snapped. He beat Jackson to a bloody pulp, and ran back to the Stlinski house-hold to check on Stiles. He was a block away when he smelt the metal and the blood. Oh god, please no. Hopeing, praying, that Stiles had just been cooking or something and cut his finger, he ran faster than he had ever run before. Faster than when he had learned about the fire. Faster than when his sister went missing. Faster than when his uncle was brought back to life.
His heart was pounding. His lungs hurt, and his muscles begged him to stop. He didn't care. He just wanted his mate to be ok. He didn't want to lose him to. Not him. Not Stiles. Not the boy whos smile radtiated sunshine. Not the boy whos voice could make everything that ever hurt go away. Derek lept up onto the roof and through the window, only to find the sight that he was dreading the whole way here. It was Stiles, arms covered in cuts and blood, some of it washed away by the tears flowing down his soft, pale cheeks.
"It-it's not... what it looks like?" Stiles looked away, to ashamed to look Derek in the eyes. At first, Derek just stood there, processing what was in front of him. Stiles. Blood. Cuts. Blade. Tears. Stiles. Hurt. Pain. Derek took Stiles bloody arm and licked it, sending a shiver down the boys spine. Hearing Stiles breath hitch and his heart-rate pick up was all the encouragement Derek needed. The werewolf picked up the small frame and carried it to the bed. Sense all Stiles had on was a towel, it was fairly easy to get him naked. Derek, on the outher hand, had about three or four layers of cloths on, so Stiles decided to take his own sweet time. After all, his dad was at a meeting and wouldn't be home until late. At first the kisses were slow and filled with passion, but as the cloths came off they became more needy and desprate. Finally, all the leather was off and Stiles was atacking Dereks collar-bone, nibbling downward untill finding the sensitive nub on his perfectly toned chest. After teasing it for a solid 30 seconds, he moved to the outher side and made quick work of it before licking his way back up to Derek's mouth, demanding entrance. After a quick tug-of-war, Derek let Stiles win, and he started to eagerly explore, finally earning the moan Derek had been holding back. Smirking, he retreated back downward, eating up Dereks chest along the way. Finally he came to Dereks throbbing cock. Eagerly licking the pre-cum on the tip of his head. Derek moaned as Stiles took him into his mouth, an expert tounge doing it's finest work yet, hardly any teeth being used at all.
"Stiles..." Derek moaned, "I'm gonna..." and he came, hot and sticky, into Stiles mouth. Not missing a single drop of the bitter-sweet liquid, he drank all the seed Derek produced. Crawling back up, Stiles rested his head on Dereks chest. After a moment or so, Derek flipped them so he was on top, quickly makeing work of the small boy. Stiles leaned into every touch, arched at every stroke, and was quickly reminded who was more experience in bed. Not that he complained. Derek drew small lines on Stiles chest with his claws as Stiles groaned. Finally he went back up and kissed him, a kiss slow and filled with lust and passion. Stiles came, hard and messy. Derek repostioned them so he had his arms wrapped arround Stiles waist, as he listened to his heart-beat. He was mate was safe.
"Hey... Derek?" Stiles piped up. Derek snuggled closer and humed in responce.
"Do you... only like me for my body?" Suddenly, Stiles was up agenst Dereks chest, being pressed forward by Dereks strength.
"Stiles. Always remember this. I love you for you. Ignore Jackson. You're safe. Thats all that matters." Stiles smiled and nuzzled his chest.
"I love you too, sourwolf."