Chapter 11: Yield

A/N: So we're finally on the last episode of Teen Wolf for season 2, besides being nervous and wondering what Davis' tweets mean, I'm going to had this little filler chapter, considering the gap between Restraint and Raving is undeterminable. I'm glad that more people have submitted reviews and I hope those that have will continue to leave lovely reviews. It has occurred to me that I've add those type of scenes in most, if not all, chapters, and to be honest it was unintentional, but, I believe that it flowed with the story and the elements of newborn couples and love. Regardless, I shall continue with what I believe is natural progression of character dynamics and narrative. So with the finale in place, I've decided to separate my old ending and turn it into a one shot, but retain this story as close to canon as Sterekly possible.

Previously on Harmless: "Everything will be alright," Derek whispered into Stiles. His face grew solemn, and he felt lucky Stiles had closed his eyes. He couldn't make that promise, the Argents, the Kanima, and God knows what else, all they had was this fleeting moment, and he wasn't going to be the one to spoil it with his stoic immovable face. Derek pressed his head against Stiles' chest, the human heartbeat — his human's heartbeat telling him a story. He was lulled into sleep, his wolven breathes steady and unyielding. Stiles wrapped his arms around Derek, not wanting to let him go, not wanting for them to be torn apart. He tucked his head down, resting his cheek against the top of his werewolf's head before he too sunk into sleep.

The Stilinski house's lower floor was lit by the dim light that hung above the kitchen table. The sheriff sat, a glass full of jack resting next to a bunch of papers. His son's restraining order was amongst them; he had been pouring over every word looking for a loophole or someway to counteract some of the restrictions, but Whittemore was a decent litigator. Stiles' father turn to the case at hand not wanting to continue with what his son had done, he didn't want to anger himself not when people were dying. He had called, Melissa McCall, Stiles wasn't there, he just hoped that his son was okay. His paternal instinct wanted him to call up Ms. Martin to see if maybe Stiles crush had become reality, but he doubt his son would go to her for shelter. He was probably in his jeep, somewhere, maybe outside the school or just around the corner. He knew he had to give his son space, even though he wanted to yell at his only son for stealing a police vehicle and, for lack of a better word, kidnapping the Whittemore kid. Maybe there was something going on, Stiles was odd, but lately he had been acting even more peculiar and more erratic. He hoped Stiles was taking his Adderall.

He opened a file-folder, all of the autopsies of the victims were now in front of him. He didn't fixate on the photographs, but was more concerned with the report. They were similar killings, the same abnormal wound track. He closed the file, letting the dead rest for a little longer before he knew he would have go through them again. He paused. He shuffled through the papers and folders in front of him, extracting the individual files for each of the victims, he glanced at their ages — 24. A connection, perfect. He twisted the wedding band in kept on his finger, thinking, just as dawn broke across the sky. Today was going to be a long day, he knew he would be under severe scrutiny at work because of Stiles' actions, and most indefinitely his own. He had let Stiles off the hook every time his son had been a crime scene as of late. Regardless of Stiles indiscretions, he hoped his son would return home, he didn't like the idea of his son out while a murder was on the prowl. He was glad he had found a connection between the victims, Stiles wasn't 24, he was safe. He wanted to get in his patrol car and search the city for his son, but his son wouldn't take kindly to his father invading his privacy — the privacy to avoid his own father. He remember all the fights he had had with his own father, and how he would spend several nights away from home to blow off steam. Stiles would (if he found him) come home, maybe, barricade himself in his room and only leave for school. He sighed. He went back to his case, trying to drown himself in facts to escape his parental thoughts.

"Stiles, just be safe," he said out loud.

Around eight-thirty Derek awoke to find Stiles curled into him, his arms up to his chest, and his legs entwined with Derek's own. A smile dare grace the werewolf's face as he saw Stiles'. The hyperactive teen of seventeen reduced to a childish innocence with his breathing soft and somewhat staccato. He was glad he had laundered his sheets the previous night, he couldn't imagine the scent they would had he hadn't. Even now, he could smell their union and it drove his wolven senses against him, wanting to partake again from his lover. As alpha his wolf knew he could have anyone he pleased, whenever, and it wanted Stiles. No, it desired Stiles entirely. Derek was the same, he just couldn't admit just how much he needed Stiles, nor did he realization just how much Stiles needed him. In time maybe they would find out.

Derek took one of his hands and brushed a knuckle under Stiles' eyes. The flesh was still pink and puffy from the night's previous tears. His lover's breath hitched momentarily as they met. He brought his lips to Stiles' forehead, left a delicate kiss there. He would never live it down had Stiles seen it or anyone else from the pack, that single act of kindness. He was kind, but not directly, nor was he sappy. He was Derek Hale after all, the byronic bastard who threatened to kill Lydia and now Jackson, not to mention turned Erica, Boyd, and Isaac. He was firm with his pack, but by no means overly so, or at least he didn't go to the extremes other alphas had gone to. He once believed affection was a weakness, after the death of his sister, that was all he knew. His anchor, his rage — his anger was his fuel to remain human. The power of an alpha was nearly too much for such a limited anchor, he would need another, something more complex and dynamic, but for now, with the full moon so close, he would have to rely on anger.

Stiles stomach growled in his sleep, breaking the silence and Derek's thoughts with it. Now he was thinking what he was going to do for food for the pair of them. With the waxing moon he was going to require more food then normal, his body preparing itself for the strength and output of energy necessary to prevent the shift. He frequently ate alone, bring in food when he was hungry. That was the problem with not having a proper functioning home, but he wasn't going to have a place that could burst into flames with a little accelerant and a spark. This warehouse wasn't homey, but it large and fire would spread slowly, there wasn't any insolation and very little objects that were flammable. He tensed.

"What's wrong sourwolf?" Stiles grumbled out, waking from his sleep, seemingly instinctually.

"Nothing," Derek said deadpanned.

Stiles face grew angry with him, Derek could see it plainly, "Now don't you dare hold out on me," Stiles said. He jabbed a bony finger into Derek's chest. "Or I'll hold out on you." The teen seemed too happy with his threat, so Derek picked him up and pressed him against a nearby wall.

"Is that so?" Derek said between his teeth. Stiles back tensed from the cold of the wall. He shivered before he straightened his neck and posture in Derek's arms. He wrapped his legs around Derek's waist, and drew his face right close to his werewolf's. They're bodies and their loins touching in their nakedness.

"Yes, it is so," Stiles said indignantly, jutting his face forward slightly, so close to Derek's he could feel the man breath. His werewolf growled, before he threw his lips against Stiles' and forcing his way into his lover's mouth. There was something enjoyably arousing in the way Stiles challenged him, and Stiles felt similar delight in the way in which Derek growled at him; a mixture of anger, annoyance, desire, and love, or at least that was what Stiles thought. Stiles took Derek's lower lip into his mouth, not wanting to be a subordinate in the relationship. Another growl was elicited, in a way Derek had agree with him, they were equals in the regards that mattered.

Derek broke their kiss and brought them back to the bed, "I was worried because I don't have any food here, and you're hungry, right?"

"Now that you mention it," Stiles said a touch coyly.

"We could go out," Derek said. "To a diner or something."

"Wouldn't that draw unnecessary attention to us," Stiles said. "Unless you want for us to be public, I'd be fine with that."

Derek blushed momentarily (He thought it to be a lapse in judgement), before his face grew stoic once more. "I was just saying we could go to some restaurant, you make it sound so debauched."

Stiles licked his lips, "Did I?"

Derek looked annoyed, Stiles couldn't play coy with him.

"Fine. We could go to my house, my dad's probably back at work, and it'd be nice to shower," Stiles replied plainly.

"What, you don't like being cover with my scent," Derek said with a frown.

"I'll tell you this once and only once more, again. If necessary you can rub yourself against me after so that all the other wolves know I'm yours, but I'm human, I like to be clean."

Derek seemed satisfied with his answer and took his lover's mouth again. "I expect you to hold up the end of your bargain," he said once he broke from Stiles' mouth.

"We're going to have to get dressed, what would my neighbours think if I came home naked with an old naked man following me in," Stiles said.

Derek only chuckled and stood up, his impressive body standing straight in front of Stiles. The teen gave his lover a once over, before standing up and pushing Derek on the shoulder. "Bastard, clouding my mind with your damn body." His werewolf nearly keeled over laughing, an oddity, he never laughed at Stiles jokes. With a scowl on his face, Stiles picked up his clothes from Derek's floor in a rush, not wanting to give his lover the satisfaction that he had a growing erection.

They took only Stiles' jeep back to his home, his father was indeed gone, and somehow that made Stiles sad. He hadn't planned for his father to be there, but the more he lied to his father the worse he felt about himself, not to mention feel even worse when he couldn't manage the great things the werewolves could. He was just human. Powerless. He walked slowly into his house, guiding Derek behind him, holding his werewolf's hand as he did so. No one would care, he led several people into his home that way. Most of the neighbours and people at school found him eccentric, the odd Stilinski boy, the hyperactive nutjob.

He locked the dorr behind them, hearing the comforting sound of bolt locking into place. When his mother died, when he came home from school, he would return home, the silence overbearing and the lock so comforting when he just wanted to hide away far from others. He shook his head dispelling memories of the past, he should look toward the present with Derek, even if that meant even more problems. Derek was a catalyst, with his werewolf he could, for some odd reason, be purely himself, not worrying about Scott's problems or being a good friend (which wasn't really reciprocated). He didn't have to regret. He could just live in the now, be with Derek in that moment, and enjoy their similarities. Enjoy the way he spoke to him while they were alone. Enjoy the way Derek touched him without forcing his face into a steering wheel.

"Do you want to cook?" Stiles asked Derek.

"I thought that was a given," was Derek's simple reply. Feeling scorned, Stiles sulked toward the kitchen table and took a seat.

"Don't sulk, that's my job. I'm just saying that I'd like to cook for you."

"Nice save," Stiles said lifting his head.

Derek went to work. At an alarming pace he moved between the fridge and the oven, preparing things with professional ease. He had something in the oven that smelled delicious and without even asking washed what he had used and put it back it their rightful places, all within less then thirty minutes.

"What are you, sonic the hedgehog," Stiles said. "You're nearly breaking the sound barrier."

"Your the one who said you like to be clean, and if you're to hold up your end of the deal, I'll have to be right next to you, and we're both hungry so we should at least eat first," Derek said, his cocky grin-smirk on his stubbled face. Stiles nearly choked on his own spit, just as the timer on the stove rung.

Derek with oven-mitts on, removed what he made. A quiche was presented in front of him on a trivet and two dishes soon followed. Without speaking his werewolf plunged a knife into the dish and scooped generous amounts into each bowl before adding a fork to each dish.

"I could've..." Stiles muttered out.

"I know Stiles, shut up."

Stiles didn't need to ask twice, his stomach rumbled and his body craved food, so he was more than happy to sink his fork into the quiche he had been served and plunge the loaded fork in his mouth. It was no surprise to the teen that Derek was an excellent chief. Stiles flashed his eyes toward Derek's, his werewolf met his gaze and grin-smirked. Stiles helped himself to another spoonful, before calling it quits. Derek, however, had thirds and was enjoying watching Stiles stare at him. It seemed as those his lover was fascinated by the way he ate, but he presumed that Stiles was just observing him. When he had finished eating, however, Stiles' eyes averted to his empty bowl in front of him.

"What?" Derek asked.

"It's simple really, sourwolf," Stiles breathes out. "I love you."

Taken aback by Stiles statement that was given outside of the thralls or afterglow of their unions. He quickly stood from his chair, the sound of the chair skidding meeting Stiles' ears before he noticed Derek approaching. He was quick, and pulled Stiles into his arms, cradling him there. Derek brought his lover's face to his own, and without speaking pressed hard into Stiles' lips. Growling lowly, rumbling from his core, as Derek carried Stiles upstairs to his bathroom.

Once there, Stiles began to squirm wanting to be let down, but Derek held firm. His werewolf lowered themselves to turn on the taps and let the water reach the perfect temperature, before letting Stiles escape. The teen stood awkwardly back, unaware of how to progress even if they had been in the same situation before. He sucked in his lower lip, biting into it nervously before Derek came to him. His hands gently helped Stiles out of his clothes. It surprised Stiles to find that Derek was a compassionate lover, gentle when necessarily and brutal at the right moments. That's what he needed at that moment, someone he didn't need to always fight against, they were equals and when they fought there would be fireworks exploding from their collision, but when he needed comfort, there was Derek. An argument between them would match Derek's dry boldness against Stiles rapier wit, and the victor would be the one that out played the other. Regardless of appearance Derek was fairly intelligent, enough to spar with Stiles without hesitation.

Derek slid his own clothes from his body, spending him removing his shirt by unbuttoning each button of his v-neck and pull it off slowly, revealing his body at his own pace. He pressed a hand against Stiles back, the warmth more welcome then Derek would ever know. Stiles was glad he had a nice shower, one large rain shower head that was above the pair of them, and one nice strong one as the primary. Under the warm water everything seemed to melt away. Derek could hear Stiles heartbeat calm and during that moment Stiles wanted to able to hear Derek's heart so that neither of them could lie and get away with it.

Stiles turned around and faced Derek, there eyes met before Stiles attempted to drop down to his knees, however, his wolf quickly grabbed him and held him up. "You don't need to do that."

Stiles blinked, confused, "...But I want to."

Derek threw himself into a hug with Stiles, pressing him close, before Stiles manoeuvred Derek against a wall and took his mouth with his own. His werewolf smiled into his kiss and probed Stiles' mouth with his tongue before breaking them apart to breath.

Stiles again tried to drop to his knees, Derek let him. With his lover's manhood near his mouth, it truly seemed impressive as it stood proudly in front of him. He took his werewolf's manhood into his mouth, before applying suction and using his tongue to tease Derek most lecherously. His werewolf grunted and growled low in his chest before attempting to peal Stiles from him to prevent an all too quick conclusion. He picked Stiles up from his knees, they were practically eye to eye. The teen took the initiative and pressed his lips against Derek's, he let his own tongue enter his werewolf's mouth. Derek gave Stiles leeway, finding his own taste in his mouth peculiarly enthralling, however, within a few moments he forced his own tongue into the mélange.

Stiles soon wrapped his arms around Derek's neck, his own erection bobbing against Derek's as they grew closer. Derek hoisted Stiles' legs up, before the teen wrapped them around his werewolf's waist. With one firm arm holding Stiles up, he used his other to guide himself into Stiles, who unlike their first time, was more used to his presence. A whimper torn through Stiles as Derek pressed further into him, his desires wanting more, but his body not quite yet able to accept the rest of him. Within in moments Derek continued his push, eliciting soft murmurs from Stiles as he did so.

Fully within his lover, Derek began push himself in and out of Stiles, bringing forth moans that echoed throughout the small room, forcing a blush to appear on his face. He couldn't even imagine his father's reaction had he caught them, but luckily his father was at work.

"Faster," Stiles moaned out. Derek obliged, quickening his face. The pleasure derived from his lover's action was nearly too much for Stiles, he was still new to having a lover. He squirmed in Derek's grasp, nearly unable to hold on. Moans poured from his mouth in gasps.

At each trust Derek would grunt and the closer he came the more those grunts became growls. His eyes flashed red, his heartbeat increasing. His wolf wanted Stiles, so Derek took hold of his lover's head and brought it closer to his own. He seized Stiles mouth with his own; they both were focused on other tasks, Derek on his motions and Stiles on moaning, so there kiss was sloppy and desperate. Stiles torn away from the kiss, and brought his mouth to Derek's shoulder, biting down hard against Derek's rigid flesh. The surge of power and desire met him and he came from the excessive pleasure. Derek's pace quickened, all his effort going into his actions before he withdrew himself and lifted Stiles body to grind into his own. With a growl that furthered Stiles blush on his face, he came between them.

Both of them breathed heavily into the other, it was Derek, that helped Stiles climb off of him before his werewolf picked up the soap and helped clean the both of them. He was particularly rough when it came to Stiles' rear that he had just recently brutalized. Stiles jumped, he was slightly sore now. Stiles threw his first into Derek's chest angrily in protest. His werewolf chuckled as a response, as he moved his hand back to Stiles ass. He squeezes rump, which elicited protest from Stiles who slapped Derek's arm and exclaimed.

"Oi! You know perfectly well that I'm sore," Stiles said. He was angry at his lover and he wasn't going to let Derek torture him with his own body, or at least not when he didn't want it. Derek frowned and brought his hands back to Stiles arse. His lover gave him a look, but Derek continued.

"I promise I'll play nice," Derek said with his signature smirk-grin on his devilishly handsome face.

"How could I refuse that face," Stiles said.

Derek was gentle as he soaped Stiles completely, before Stiles stole the soap from out Derek's hands. His werewolf had amazing speed, but Stiles was agile. With the soap in hand he covered and traced Derek's body before dragging the bar of soap against his werewolf's jawline before Derek growled and bite into the air in front of him.

They let the water rinse away the soap, Derek ran shampoo and conditioner through their hair, although Stiles barely had any in comparison. Soon, when all the soap was gone, they both left the shower. Derek grabbed to towels and handed one to Stiles. Once dry, they wrapped their towels around their waists and went into Stiles' room.

"Let me replace those bandages on your shoulder," Derek said.

"You can smell that I've replaced them since you patched me up," Stiles said.

Derek unravelled the bandages from Stiles' shoulder. His bite mark had healed nicely, he was still glad that he hadn't bitten Stiles deeply. The pale flesh still held the image of his wolven teeth, and some of his flesh was still pink and healing. Part of him was horrified that he had injured Stiles, the other part of him, his wolf maybe, was admiring his claiming of his lover. "I should at least put a bandage, I'll need one and some rubbing alcohol."

Stiles jumped up, went into the cabinet under the sink and withdrew a massive first-aid kit. It reminded Derek of one his mother had, it was roughly the size of a small tackle-box.

"Ready for war?" Derek asked.

"I've always been clumsy, dad made sure I was prepared," Stiles said.

Derek nodded. He dabbed a cotton swob into alcohol and rubbed it across Stiles' wound with a little force. The teen winced as the alcohol stung at the open bits of his wound. Derek gave the remaining alcohol time to dry before putting a large bandaid over the wound, Stiles didn't need the full bandaging.

"I'm sorry," Derek said.

"For what?"

"For that."

"I thought we went over this," Stiles said, a frown growing on his face.

"I know, but—" Derek said somewhat meekly, splitting momentarily from his stoic bravado to show a softer core that Stiles suspected.

"No buts, I told you no harm no fowl, and it was fun... In retrospect," Stiles replied. Stiles went to his dresser and pulled out the clothes Derek had given him. They had been laundered, that Derek could tell from where he sat on Stiles' bed. The teen tossed them at Derek before he went through and picked out his own clothes. He looked back at Derek, who had another scowl-frown on his face.

"What?"

"I thought you'd keep my clothes," Derek said, clearly disappointed.

"Notice that I didn't give you back your sweater." Stiles pulled Derek's black zip-up sweater from his drawers and pulled it over his head. He took a moment to inhale his werewolf's scent, before sauntering over to Derek who's face was stoic, or at least all but his eyes were stoic. His eyes beamed at him, with those green eyes alight Stiles could barely breath.

"Before I let you complete my end of the bargain," Stiles said. "I want something from you."

"What would that be?" Derek asked.

"Could you transform your face for me?" Stiles said fearlessly.

Derek gave Stiles a skeptical look, before pushing Stiles down so that he could straddle his lover's waist. "Curious to see the monster you've been dating?" Derek asked, there was an odd melancholy in his voice.

"No," Stiles said firmly. "I'm just naturely curious. I've seen Scott and a couple others, but I want to see your up close."

"If I lose control it could be dangerous," Derek said warningly trying to stop Stiles.

"I'm sure you'll manage, and besides, you owe me," Stiles said, patting his shoulder. A desperate play even for him, but Derek allowed it mournfully.

He looked down into Stiles' brown eyes, his forest greens turning red as the teen watched. Derek let his face morph, the ears turn wolven, his nose, the hair, and finally the teeth. He let out a roar that seemed indignant, sad, and interested all at the same time. Stiles snorted and brought his hands against Derek's face. He brought his hand across Derek's ears, then his nose, and lastly, dusted over the points of his werewolf's teeth. "I wouldn't like to be on the violent receiving end of those," Stiles admitted out loud. Derek's face slowly went back to normal, the muscles and tendons returning to their original shape. "But I'm not afraid of you," Stiles said. Derek could hear a partial lie. Stiles nodded in defeat, as if he knew. "Fine, I'm a little afraid, but I have faith in you." He lifted his head to meet Derek's mouth, and wrapped his arms around his werewolf's neck. "I believe you want to hug me to death." Derek shifted himself and Stiles so that they were under the covers, his werewolf's warmth accumulating quickly. Derek brought himself closer to Stiles, hugged him close.

"Everyone should know you're mine," Derek said.

"If anyone has any doubts I'll tell them myself," Stiles retorted bluntly. "That does for them as well," Stiles practically snarled out. Derek's ears seemed to perk up, enjoying his lover's possessiveness that matched his own.

The warmth, Derek's affectionate nips, kisses, and hugs brought him closer to sleep and he fell asleep, but just before sinking into unconsciousness, he thought, this is going to be a long, lazy weekend.

A/N2: Sorry about how long this chapter took the release, I hope to get through this series before school starts up for me in September. I don't like to rush things, if I have to breach into the university term that's fine. Depending on how long the entire series takes (and say that it will continue once season 3 is on as well) to reach the last episode of season 2 (I might even go a little past it). Anyway, sorry about the long wait, but here it is.

Spoilers (maybe): Freaking eh, I was nearly breaking down in tears. Great episode, with Stiles and his father, and Jackson. Although, not enough Sterek, but good things take a long time to happen naturally.

Tumblr: So I've got a blog on tumblr, twsterek. I've said that my 'friend' is the one posting, mostly because I wanted to distance my own tumblr from Sterek, just because they're so very different, but since an actual friend has given me a little more confidence, I'll be honest. I know, I'm stupid, should have just been honest, but that's a little hard. Anyway. So if you want to answer questions, I've got that if anyone wants. My personal tumblr is under the same tag as this fan fiction without a hyphen though.