Stiles wakes up bound to a very uncomfortable bed with heavy duty leather cuffs around his wrists and ankles and the metal chains he recognizes from the packs first full moon criss crossing his chest. They're so tight he can barely take a deep breath, let alone wiggle around and if he was still human they would have crushed him by now.
His mind's a complete blank, last he can remember he was with Derek and Isaac in the woods after just getting back from Mystic falls, so how did he get... Oh.
Oohh!
The memory of sharp fangs slicing through peachy flesh, of his mouth flooding with warm sugary blood, of unlimited power beneath ivory skin.
Ohh.
A full body shiver shoots like lightening through his veins.
He can feel his teeth elongating in his mouth, his fingernails sharpening and digging into his upper thigh, his vision swimming with red. There's a pounding in his head, violent, unrelenting.
Feed. Feed. Feed.
The metal restraints strain as he flexes his body upwards. A sharp tug of his left arm snaps the leather cuff like its nothing.
Feed. Feed. Feed.
Derek hears the chains creek all the way from the garage and is already half way up the stairs when the leather splits.
"Stiles!"
A gruff laugh tears itself from Stiles' throat as he continues to bend and break his bindings. He's bending iron like its clay. The power shimmering in his veins is intoxicating and he's never gonna let it go.
"Stiles stop! You have to stop! We're trying to help you!"
Derek's voice is panicked as he sprints to the vampires side, claiming pale shoulders with claw tipped hands and shoving the younger boy back onto the medical bed Deacon had leant him.
"Stiles? Stiles please? Listen to me!"
Blood red eyes stare up at him but it's as if Stiles isn't even there. Like a house with the lights on when nobody's home as he struggles in the werewolves grip causing Derek to put all his alpha weight into the hold. He's never felt anything like the strength Stiles is exuding and its terrifying him.
"Stiles!" he cries climbing onto the bed, straddling Stiles' hips, using every ounce of weight to keep Stiles here. "Stiles stop!"
He's desperate. He needs Stiles to come back to him, needs him back more than he's ever needed anything.
Stiles snarls and snaps his teeth at the werewolf, smirking the whole time. Driven by nothing but an animalistic hunger.
Derek's reached his breaking point and does the only thing he can think of, he lowers his head and kisses him.
Stiles freezes almost instantly but Derek has wanted this for years and he isn't ready to give it up just yet. Stiles' lips are soft and yielding and it has Derek's wolf rolling around, practically purring with satisfaction.
The one hand Stiles managed to get free brushes up the length of Derek's broad back before curling into the hair at the nape of his neck and he's kissing back, trying to push his body closer, all his super-strength seemingly disappeared.
After a long moment lost in bliss, Derek pulls back to pant against prominent collar bones before meeting Stiles' eyes.
Stiles' eyes that are honey brown, half mast and full of confusion.
The sigh of relief that escapes Derek's mouth couldn't have been contained if he tried, nor could the press of lips to Stiles' that followed.
"Not that all this lovey dovey, kissy behaviour isn't welcomed but err, what the hell is going on here?"