Chapter 3: Determination

A/N: More to come. Working on it, you'll have it when I've got it. Obviously errors are caused because I'm human. I'm also Canadian, so there will be British Spelling and terms. I let slide mobile instead of cellphone.

Previously on Harmless: Stiles ate alone, before packing the rest away in Tupperware and putting it in the fridge. He got ready for bed, brushing his teeth before shaving his face, clumsily dropping his razor and stumbling with it accidentally nicking himself in the process. He sucked on his thumb till the blood flow slowed. He finished shaving before showering, and after got into his thin pajama pants and an form fitting undershirt. He lay on top of his sheets thinking about the day. He should have gone back to Derek? Or would it have been awkward... Or. He clenched his jaw, frustrated.

A knock sounded against the glass of his window.

He unlatched his jaw and turned to look at the window. Even in the darkness he could make out Derek's form in the moonlight.

He knocked again, Derek face shifting into pout.

Stiles picked himself off his bed and went to his window. He unlocked it and Derek slid open the window. With extreme graceful agility he came off the window sill, slinking into the room. He straightened his leather jackets then approached Stiles, sauntering his way with his recognizable irritated face. Stiles grew fearful, feeling rather exposed in his PJs. He stopped right in front of Stiles, dropping a knee between Stiles' legs, forcing the teen backwards. Derek braced both hands on either side of Stiles' head. He dropped his head close to Stiles', leaving only inches between them. Derek's breath warmed Stiles' flesh.

"I said I'd hunt you down," Derek said.

"Used all your super senses to tackle that one?" Stiles said.

Derek growled. He domineeringly seized Stiles lips with his own, quickly push his way through the teen's lips with his tongue. The taste of blood met him rather bluntly, his eyes glowing red from the animalistic desire. He hungrily tongued his lover, enjoying Stiles' natural taste and the addition of blood. He wanted to devour Stiles, in whatever way possible. His breathing became laboured, as he was feeling the rise of his heartbeat. Stiles wrapped his legs around Derek's waist, threw his hands around Derek's neck, and hoisted himself up, deepening their union. Stiles fell back down, Derek still attached, wanting more.

It was Derek who broke their kiss. He slid his hands under Stiles shirt, lifting it over his before trailing licks and nips down Stiles' chest. The teen struggled both to contain his moans (failing) and at Derek's jacket — noticing Derek stopped his assault and, with a cocky seductive smile-grin, doffed his jacket and even more slowly lifted his tight green woollen t-shirt over his head throwing it to the floor with some unbeknownst flare.

Stiles licked his lips nervously admiring Derek's highly firm structured body. His blood ran south, tightening the front of pajama pants rather indicatively. Stalking his prey, Derek lunged at Stiles, laying on top of him. Stiles ran his hands over the werewolf's back, enjoying the warmth and the smell of Derek's cedar musk. He dug his nails and clawed his way down to the small of the wolf's back. Derek growled, smirking deliciously as he begun to slid Stiles loose pants down to his thigh. Just before he got below the hips, however, Stiles yawned unintentionally.

"Bored?" Derek asked with a ting of anger in his voice deep wolven voice.

"No, it's just been a long day," Stiles managed to force from his lips. He had the remnant taste of the werewolf in his mouth and he revelled in it. "I want you. I want this." He yawned again, his eyelids flickered betraying just how tired he had become.

"I'll go. But! You better come," Derek said. He picked up his jacket through the floor and then his shirt. Stiles could tell he was frustrated, that he wanted released, but he couldn't keep his eyes open. He slept poorly the night before and he had spent the entire day draining his emotional and physical strength. Derek went the window.

"Wait!" Stile said. "Stay". Derek turned his head and shut the window before laying his shirt and jacket on the back of Stiles' computer chair before awkwardly crawling in next to Stiles. He wasn't used to sleeping next to someone, he had been awhile. He took the extra pillow and put it behind his back. Stiles tucked himself next to Derek, the warmth of the werewolf's flesh against his back was soothing, Derek's breath on the back of his neck seductive, and yet he fell asleep rather quickly feeling safe.

Stiles awoke to the morning light, he glanced over to his clock, eight a.m., all before his memory kicked in. He could feel the warmth of another body next to his and so he slowly turned over so that he was face to face with Derek's pectorals. He glanced up to look the werewolf in his face; his eyes were shut and he breathed steadily, his typical scowl turned tranquil. He looked so peaceful that he couldn't imagine waking him. Stiles drew in his arms and tightened the distance between them. He inhaled the man's scent, it intoxicated his senses to the point that he momentarily considered waking the werewolf up so that Derek could have his way with him, but his control was regained within seconds. He pressed his face against Derek's chest.

An hour passed until Derek awoke; Stiles had just closed his eyes breathing him in. Somehow whether it be through the werewolf's supernatural senses or just intuition he knew that the teen was awake.

"How long have you been up, Stiles?"

"An hour or so."

Derek stretched, "You should have woken me."

"I don't think you get much sleep being alpha and all."

"No," Derek said softly, almost reminiscently. "I don't get much sleep."

"Nor a shower, you smell good, but you look like your homeless."

Derek smiled, "I'd bathe in a river or something, but in such as small town that would just be odd."

"Well use my shower, and I'll make breakfast."

"Won't your dad be home soon?"

"Naw. He won't be home until tonight for a change of clothes or for some leftovers, but he'll probably spend the rest of the week working tirelessly. Give me your clothes, I'll wash them and make you breakfast."

"Well Stiles, if you wanted to see me naked you should stop cock blocking yourself."

Stiles blushed, "Go shower."

Derek walked towards the shower, stripping off his pants. He was stark naked, no interfering underwear. He let his pants fall to the floor as he strolled toward the shower. Stiles rushed behind him, picking up Derek's shirt and pants before taking them to the washer.

After starting the wash he went to the kitchen, scrambling a few eggs and popping bread into the four-slice toaster. It was quick and easy, but he assumed that Derek would be happy with anything. He could hear the water running and he could only imagine Derek's naked form wet. He wished he had been bold enough to slip into shower with him, but his boldness had parted him in the night. Their bodies intermingled, wet, and their actions frantic. Stiles shook his head, his blood southern bound. He plated the food just before the buzzer from the washer rang. The teen ran to the laundry room, and put Derek's clothes in the dryer.

Derek opened the door, the steam rose in plums from within. A towel was bound around his waist, he turned toward Stiles enjoying the gobsmacked expression on his face. The teen shook his head, and stuttered out, "N-nearly finished." The dryer buzzed, and Stiles ran to get them. Derek was in his room waiting for him when he returned.

"You look as though I asked you to cut my arm off again," Derek said.

"I doubt that, I don't think I look absolutely horrified."

"Fair enough." Derek stood up, towering over Stiles, and picked up his clothes. He dropped his towel, forcing Stiles to quickly look away, although not fast enough to not catch a glimpse at something he liked. He hardened; Stiles knew that Derek could smell his desire, his arousal, and this was confirmed by Derek's chuckle. Stiles blushed, he turned around. The werewolf had his pants at his hips, but he was still shirtless. Stiles ran his hands over Derek's chest, clawing downwards leaving a trail that quickly healed. There was a lower growl and Derek's hands approvingly held the teen's hands against his chest.

"We don't want to let breakfast get cold, after you put all that work into it," Derek said disappointedly.

"We could reheat it," Stiles said, looking up at Derek's face. The teen's stomach growled.

"And that's that," Derek said, picking Stiles up and taking him down to kitchen. "Eat!"

Stiles smiled, he dug his fork and ate the entire plate quickly. Derek was slower, he definitely had better manners; he had been raised in an upper-middle class life style after all. He forked the egg delicately, and was just ironic enough to make Stiles laugh.

"A wolf with manners," Stiles said. "Who would think. Do you hunt like that?"

Derek snorted, "I've hunted you, do I seem all that mannered."

Stiles stopped laughing. Derek laughed, an oddity in his own right. "My mother said even if we were wolves we didn't have to behave like them, at least while we weren't hunting."

Stiles smiled, "Mum tried to teach my dad and I manners, but we were always terrible at it."

"Figures."

"What's that supposed to mean," Stiles said, amused.

"You take Adderall."

"You're not going to give me the turn-me spiel."

"No. Unlike Erica, Boyd, and Isaac, you've got friends, your father loves you, and you don't have a crippling debilitating disease. I don't have a pitch to sell you on."

"You forgot I'm much too smart for that, and I know about the Argents."

"Yes, the Argents." Derek paused, "So tell me, is this all you know how to make?"

"This breakfast sums up my cooking," Stile said.

"I'll have to cook for you then, because as delicious as this is..."

"You can do better?"

"Indefinitely."

Stiles' phone rang, his father's number popping up on the screen. Stiles looked at Derek before answering.

"Hey dad, coming home? Want me to drop something to eat off by the station," Stiles said, knowing Derek was listening.

"No Stiles, thank you though. I'll be home at eight, we've got some promising leads.

"Love you dad, be safe."

"Always."

He hung the phone. Derek could see the micro-frown on Stiles' face and the look of disappointment in his eyes. His nose scrunched adorably. Stiles got up from his chair, pushed Derek' chair back and straddled him. Stiles pressed his nose into the werewolf's neck; his scent hadn't changed, at least not where it counted. Cedar and soap.

"We've got all day," Stiles said, mouthing his words into Derek's neck. The werewolf wrapped his strong arms around Stiles, lifting him up into his arms as he stood. He was taking them toward the chairs when a knock at the back door stopped their progression. Derek looked into Stiles' eyes looking for an answer, but the teen hadn't a clue. They went to the back door, the werewolf cautiously turned the handle.

"Derek," Erica said.

Derek growled annoyed, "What is it?"

Erica pushed her away in, Derek didn't stop her. She glided by Derek and twirled around Stiles in her threatening way. She got close, too close, and whispered into Stiles' ear, "You smell of Derek." There was an air of jealousy that was barely audible. Derek noticed, and enjoyed as Stiles flustered against her taunts.

"I assume you came for a reason," Derek said.

"You weren't at the liar, I worried. We worried," Erica said rather heatedly.

"The Argents wouldn't attack the Sheriff's home, this place is safe."

"And that's the only reason you're here," Stiles said sarcastically.

Derek smiled, "Among other things," the male werewolf teased.

"We've got training shortly, or at least I thought so," Isaac said, leaning against the doorframe. Derek could see Boyd in the backyard leaning against the fence.

Derek lowered his head then looked at Stiles, who nodded at Derek, as if wordless saying 'fine'. "I'll be out in moment, did you bring my car?"

Isaac had disappeared, but Erica remained behind Stiles, "We brought the car." She left the house rather quickly closing the door behind her.

Derek meandered to Stiles, taking a hand to hold the teen's chin. Gently, Derek pressed his lips to Stiles'. They lingered momentarily; Derek brushed his tongue over Stiles lips before forcing his way through and tasting his lover. Derek broke their union and left a nip-mark on the teen's throat. He breathed against Stiles's throat before the teen spoke, "Come back tonight? Please."

Derek smiled, "I'll be back, 12, okay?"

"See you there. Now go your puppies are getting anxious and I don't want to explain patches of dead grass."

Derek turned around and left.

Stiles stood alone, the house silent — empty. He started to fidget and in the blink of the eye he had his keys in his hands. He threw on his jacket and was out the door. He drove back to the café, ordered, and the sat down with his coffee. Coffee generally was something those with ADHD would usually avoid, but Stiles always found that it soothed him, and yes sometimes it made him fidget a little more, but he was old enough to make his own decisions.

"Did my advice help," Danny said. He hugged a man who looked only a few years older than himself, they kissed quickly, before Danny sat down.

Stiles blushed, "You helped a lot."

"I'm glad. Did Derek reciprocate?"

Stiles fidgeted, his face warming. He took a sip from his coffee before looking to Danny.

"I see. Well I'm off, I've got my own conquest to handle," Danny said, lifting himself from his chair and heading toward his car, where the man was waiting. He smiled back to Stiles, who beamed back out halfheartedly. He ordered another coffee.

Derek was back in his lair, he had a hand on his temple whilst he listened to the complaints of his pack. Erica jealous held no valid complain, but Isaac was quick to stress Derek's number one room, don't get involved, it makes you weak. Boyd stood back, not interfering, but listening, he was new, he wanted the information.

"You're pups! It's a greater risk. Occasionally you could risk it, Scott for example, but it could risk exposure; you could kill someone," Derek said. "If you have a problem with Stiles, let it out! Or is it a problem with me?"

"Can we trust Stiles not to blab to Scott where we are? He stands on a moral high horse," Erica said irritatedly.

"And is Stiles careful, what if the Argents follow him?"

"Stiles is careful, he kept Scott secret close to his chest and he's always been a loyal friend to him. So if there is enough bitching we've got training."

Stiles was on his third coffee, his heart was pounding in his chest; he was thinking about him. They way Derek spoke to him, the way he was with him, and they're connection. He finished his coffee, debating about what to do for the rest of the day. He wanted to go see Derek, but he knew he could only get in the way, and he didn't want to be around Erica who seemed to be rather jealous.

Scott pulled up next to Stiles' table. He sat down next to his friend, "Hey Stiles."

"Kanima news?"

"No, I was just wondering if I could borrow your econ. notes. I'd ask Alison, but her parents have been overly protective. Since the Kanima." He sniffed the air, as if something caught his attention. "Has Derek been around? Did he try to get you to accept the bite?"

"No Derek didn't come around to try to bite me," Stiles said, wanting to add, bite me hard that is, but couldn't.

"His smell is all over you," Derek said.

"So?"

"Stiles why do you smell like Derek!"

"Scott, I'm a loyal friend, but shut up."

"Tell me!"

Stiles got up from his seat in hurry and ran to his jeep before Scott could follow. He may have been a werewolf, but he used his senses in groupings, but never all together. He was slow, but strong. He pulled out and started driving going no where.