Well, no one complained about the change of POVs, so I guess it's clear when they change! And I think I kinda suck at naming the chapters, but... oh, well. Enjoy :D

Disclaimer: IDNOTW. (You know what it means!)

He almost turned right there.

As soon as the air filled Derek's lungs, he knew he had just made the biggest mistake of his life. He could feel his eyes turning a bright blue inside his closed lids. Still, he regretted nothing. He felt his pants tightening as his cock stiffened. He tilted his head back, trying to get as much of it in as possible, breathing deeply a second time.

Yes, he was getting intoxicated out of his own free will. Humans have a vast variety of drugs they can use to alter their state of conscience: alcohol, weed, LSD, opium, cocaine, MDMA. None of them work on werewolves. Their cells just work a lot faster than humans' to maintain homeostatic regulation. If they tried any of those, it would last nothing more than minutes and it would hardly be intense.

But what they have with arousal-related scents is kind of like "Viagra" for humans. But without the erectile dysfunction part. There was no such thing as a Werewolf who couldn't get it up. But for it to work, they had to allow it to work. Otherwise, male werewolves could never live among humans if they got hard everytime they smelled arousal.

Of course, when they don't allow it, it's extremely uncomfortable. Like an itch in the back of their minds that they just cannot scratch. That was basically how every single werewolf at the club had been feeling tonight, Derek included.

Well, not anymore. He had scratched that itch heartily. And now he was paying the price.

He fought to keep himself from ravishing the boy and getting a handful of the source of that smell at its freshest. The effect was at its peak, he couldn't get any harder than he was now. His pants felt overly restraining and his teeth were almost morphing into each other with the strength he was gritting them.

It was taking every bit of self-control Derek had not to glue his nose to Stiles' forehead. The last thing he wanted was to freak the boy out any more than he already was. He remained in the same position and breathed deeply a third time, only this time trying to focus more on the calming effect breathing deeply should have.

He fought his way back to the rational, lucid domains of his mind. By the fourth breath he took, he was actually relaxing and coming down from his high.

He took his time righting his head and opened his eyes. He knew they were back to his dark green by now. He relaxed his hands, which had turned into fists at some point during his voluntary intoxication process without him even realizing.

He looked into Stiles' eyes.

"Do you have any idea how good you smell?" If the boy already looked embarrassed before, he almost reached a tomato shade with his blushing now.

"Wha – I…" He took a moment to wet his dry lips. "D-did you – why…" He pinched the bridge of his nose and looked down. It was clear to Derek that he was completely at a loss of words and he found it more endearing than he should. He couldn't help the chuckle that escaped him.

"What the hell just happened?" Stiles blurted out in a high pitched voice. "Did you just smell me? So there is something wrong with my smell today, isn't it? I knew it! Why?! What is it? And how can you…?" He then looked at the door that led to the club. "How can they…?"

"Stiles, there's nothing wrong with your smell today." Derek said with the evenest voice he could muster. "You just… smell better than you should." He shot his eyes at Stiles forehead. "Which is why you needed to take a shower as soon as possible. Go do that already and then we can talk." 'Before I do something I might regret', he almost added.

"What is it?" Stiles asked.

"What is what?" Derek answered impatiently. He shifted, trying to find a more comfortable position for his still restraining pants. 'Why isn't he showering yet?!' If Stiles' aim was to drive Derek mad, he was definitely succeeding.

"What is it about me that's smelling so good?" He wetted his lips. Again. 'God, stop doing that.' Derek thought as he tried to focus on something other than the boy's mouth. He considered if he should answer that or not, and what that would implicate. He deserved to know. At least to avoid it from ever happening again. He could not be so lucky next time he smelled of semen and came face to face with a werewolf in heat.

There was no nice way to say it, so he just said it. "You smell of come. On your fucking forehead and on your left hand. Other than the obvious place." Derek told him trying to keep a blank expression on his face. Stiles looked away turning a deep shade of red for the third time in the last ten minutes.

'Just keep talking, Derek.' He told himself averting his eyes from the boy. It helped him concentrate on maintaining a sane state of mind, so he kept going.

"You know… let's just say most of the Lupita's regulars are very sensitive to smell. That's why you all always have to shower before the start of your shift. The soap she gives you is of a special kind, developed specifically to rid your body of any strong smells from the outside and leave you with your most natural scent possible."

"And you're one of these very-sensitive-to-smell people?" He bit his lower lip, looking down. Following his gaze, Derek realized he was now looking at the bulge on his pants. Derek couldn't have hidden it even if he wanted to, so he wasn't surprised Stiles noticed. He looked into Derek's eyes, as if looking for clues to what his answer would be.

Derek just nodded.

Stiles grinned. A grin that grew into a laugh. "Oh my G…ahahaha…I'm sor…hahah… I'm sorry." Derek stared at him blankly. He cleared his throat a couple of times. "Sorry… It's just, it's funny that the smell of my come would turn you on. I don't know why…" He giggled. "And your uncle?"

Derek nodded again.

"I was right! People like the Perfume serial killer are totally real!" He said excitedly. "But then – that means when we met this afternoon, you could also smell it on me, right? Is that why you looked so lost?"

For someone who got red as easily as Stiles did, he sure as hell didn't seem embarrassed now. "Mostly, yes." Derek answered and tried to find a better position for his damn tight pants, but failed miserably. He moaned. "Can you go shower now?"

The son of a bitch just smirked at him. "Why? Is the smell of my come bothering you, Mr. Hale?" He said with a fake innocent voice and bit his lip.

Derek pursed his lips and this time didn't refrain at all when he felt the need to take a deep breath. He knew Stiles could see his nostrils flaring, but at this point, he didn't give a shit. He needed to change the subject.

Looking at Stiles mischievous face, he remembered something he had been meaning to ask. "You know, I've been wondering… what could have gotten you so worked up today that you had to masturbate twice? That is, if you haven't masturbated any more times than I'm aware of, of course."

The transition was immediate. Stiles went from looking like the Cheshire cat to looking like a kid who had just been caught by his parents doing something naughty. That amused Derek immensely and he had to suppress a laugh.

"No one." Stiles tried to regain his composure.

Derek raised an eyebrow at him. He was the Cheshire cat now and gladly at that. "No one? I thought I'd asked a 'what', not a 'who'… so you masturbated thinking about the same person both times, huh?"

Stiles abruptly got up, face and neck going red as Derek had learned they do when he's beyond embarrassed.

"Ok, ok! Your wish is my command." The boy said theatrically. "I'm showering now. You won't be smelling any more come on me and getting your tent up, don't worry." If only he knew Derek didn't mind that at all. Stiles started walking to the shower room, his back turned to Derek, who looked appreciatively at it. Those tight pants did wonderful things for his bum when he walked.

"Wash the wall as well. You came on it, didn't you?"

Stiles stopped abruptly. "You can't really tell that just by smelling it all the way from here!" He looked at Derek, amazed.

"I can."

"I don't believe you." He stated defiantly.

"I can show you exactly where it was."

"You could just estimate from my height where the come would have landed."

"And how exactly would I guess which shower you were using?"

Stiles was thoughtful for a second. "Right. That makes sense."

Derek got up from the bench. "How about… we make things interesting?"

"I'm listening." He looked at Derek warily.

"When I'm right, you tell me who you were thinking about when you jerked off today. Both times." He had to pause to smile at the red shade that had covered Stiles face. You'd think he'd have mastered the ability to control the blushing by now. "When I'm not wrong, you get nothing. Because I'll be right. So no need to agree on your half of terms."

"Ha-ha. You'd think the great movie star Derek Hale would have some comedy gene in him as well. Do us all a favor: never audition for sit-coms." He said sarcastically, and added "When I win, I get the right to make you one question, and no matter what it is about, you have to answer honestly."

"And how would you know I'm not lying?"

He shrugged. "I guess I'll just have to trust you."

"Deal." Derek said without hesitation. Obviously there was no way he was going to be wrong. Even if Stiles had asked to make a sex tape with him and publish it on a porn site, he would have agreed. He wasn't losing this bet.

Not that making a sex tape with Stiles was a bad idea…

The friction his pants provided on his cock as he walked made him groan. Stile defiant voice was a welcome distraction.

"There you go, mister cocky brows. Where was it?" They were at the shower room. Looking at Derek, Stiles crossed his arms.

Derek smiled and turned to look at the room. There were six showers total, three on each side wall. He turned to his right and walked to the shower farthest away, the one near the opposite wall from the door. He pulled his jeans up a little before getting down and supporting his weight on his heels.

He put both hands on the wall for support, tilted his head a little to the side and sniffed the spot where the scent was most intense at the wall. Reflexively, he licked his lips. His hard on was killing him. He could feel it throb, begging for attention. Just by smelling the boy's semen on a cold, hard wall.

'Imagine what it would do to me to smell it directly from his skin.' His hands were tingling to cup his cock even over his jeans, just to give it a quick rub. The sudden jolt of pleasure through his spine made him realize he actually did it. He got up abruptly before he ruined his jeans from the excess of pressure provided by his hard cock. He turned his head to Stiles and pointed at the place he had just sniffed. "This is it."

Stiles looked appalled. "Shit." He heard the boy mutter.

Stiles was turned on, and Derek sniffed it in the air, before seeing it. Now he wasn't the only one with a bulge on his pants. Realizing that Derek had noticed it, he swallowed hard. Derek just crossed his arms and leaned against the wall, half of him making sure he kept the most distance between them, the other half curious to hear what Stiles would say next.

Yes, Derek was enjoying himself way too much.

And he loved it. He smiled.

"Seriously, how did you…? That's impossible. What kind of government experiment are you? Did the experiment start when you were still an egg and they applied some super olfactory enhancement genes in your genome so that they could use you for military purposes when you grew up? You're all spies, aren't you? You're highly trained in military skills, mind reading, sensitive to smell and under cover pretending to be an actor? This world is so unfair!" Stiles babbled.

"Has anyone ever told you that you have a very vivid imagination?" He didn't know what else to say.

"You're not denying it!" Stiles said accusingly.

Derek laughed. "Yeah, you got it all figured out."

"Stop messing with me. You wouldn't tell me if I were right. Unless you would, because you knew no one would believe you, or me, if I told them. Ha! Clever."

"Stiles. Stop stalling. I win." Derek just cut to the chase. If Stiles wanted to believe he was a secret agent for the government that was better than having to explain to him Werewolves existed and Derek was one of them.

"Ok, your secret is safe with me. Don't worry." He said in a serious tone, but grinned.

Derek rolled his eyes.

"Fine, you win. Happy?" Stiles looked defeated.

"I will be, once you tell me about that person." He answered, all the while checking out Stiles package. From the looks of it, Stiles was going to have to jerk off again before he started with the cleaning.

"Look, that's kind of a long story…" Derek could hear his heart was beating at a frantic pace. He chuckled seeing the boy was blushing yet again.

'How the fuck have I made it this long without jumping his bones yet?!' If he was being honest, he would have to jerk off too if he intended to go back out. But then he would be the one smelling like come. Stiles opened his mouth to continue, but Derek interrupted.

"Look, you can tell me about it later. We both need to 'shower'." He purposefully drew the quotation marks in the air for that last word. "You need to go first. I'll wait outside and I'm gonna need to borrow your soap when you're done."

"But while I 'shower' you're gonna – um, be able to smell everything that goes on in here, right?" Stiles voice came out husky.

Derek froze. He hadn't thought this through. 'And hear. And vividly imagine. And probably violently get myself off on it. Not to mention all the while putting all my self-control abilities on the line to make sure I don't barge in and pin you to this wall and literally fuck you senseless.'

He cleared his throat, but his voice was huskier than Stiles' had been. "Yes. But if I go first, when you finish 'showering' I… I'll have to go again." He couldn't stop the blush that covered his own cheeks. None of those options seemed very good ones. The first would never work. He wouldn't be able to stop himself, no matter how much he tried. The second would take up too much time. People outside would start wondering what was taking them so long.

"That would probably take too long… I'm guessing you don't want that." Stiles said. "So you – and, those people outside… got turned on because of the smell of come in a more general way, right?" He seemed to be measuring his words. "It's not like my scent is special or something… It's just a normal reflex for you crazy-smell-sensitive people? I mean, it could have been anyone's, right?"

Derek wondered where he was going with this. "Well, yes. There's really no such thing as a special scent. I guess it's the special person you associate it with that makes it special, you know?"

"So – maybe um… ok, this is really embarrassing, and I will totally understand if you feel disrespected, or grossed out, or just outright mad, but I'm just gonna go ahead and say it and get this over with, but hear me out before you say anything." Stiles said. "Ok?" Derek furrowed his brows, but nodded.

Stiles stopped breathing for a second. "Imasturbatedthinkingaboutyou." He blurted out, looking anywhere but at Derek. If it weren't for his wolf senses, he wouldn't have understood a word Stiles had said. But he had. And the image that flashed in his mind, of Stiles mole dotted, pale, naked body panting, as his elegant hands jerked expertly and frantically up and down his shaft, twice in one day, thinking about him, had just stained his boxers with precome.

Derek groaned at the feeling. Everytime he thought he had reached the peak of his arousal, Stiles managed to push him on a little further. He couldn't suppress the distressed expression on his face from all the sexual tension he had pent up. But he stood exactly where he was, true to his words that he would wait to hear what Stiles had to say.

He was finally looking at Derek, that red shade basically permanent on his face, neck and ears. "How about we just get this out of our systems? I mean, I jerked off thinking about you and now you look almost as if you're in pain, and that's my fault in a way. And then you helped me out tonight out there and – I feel like I've made use of your… image for my own selfish reasons enough times today. I just wanted to… I don't know… repay you. In some way."

Derek tried to process everything he had said, but was having a really hard time understanding where Stiles was going with this. "What exactly do you mean by "repay me"?"

"Well, you don't seem grossed out, so I guess that's a good thing." Stiles said relieved and bit his lip. "I'm not outright asking you to have sex with me, but we could do stuff related to it, you know, not that I would object to having sex either, it's just that I don't wanna force you into it if you don't want to, it would kinda be like when me and my friend Scott were younger and we started experimenting on each other, you know, it was like, this safe environment for the both of us, and we trusted each other, and I know you and I just met, but what I'm saying is that you can trust me, and… I'm gonna shut up now."

Derek had stopped listening after "we could do stuff related to it" and only caught a word or two out of the rest of Stiles' monologue. He was too busy debating with himself whether or not that was a good idea.

He was torn. There was no doubt in his mind that he wanted to fuck Stiles to death. Probably not the best choice of words, as he could actually kill him without meaning to if he fucked him. He considered all the other options of "sex related stuff", as Stiles had put it, and got to the conclusion that he couldn't get to those and not go all the way. And going all the way wasn't an option.

Stiles had no idea what Derek was or how dangerous it could be to a human to have sex with a Werewolf. And to hurt Stiles was something he couldn't afford to do. Not just because of Ethan's warning, but because he was genuinely starting to care about him.

But the boy was right, they had to get this whole thing out of their systems somehow. He let out a frustrated growl. There was only one thing they could do. "We can… masturbate. But you have to promise me something."

Stiles nodded, a confused expression on his face.

"This is extremely important, Stiles. We cannot touch each other. Understand? And if I try to touch you, I want you to punch me in the face. As hard as you can. And I mean as hard as you can. I mean it. Punch me in the face. Got it? Say it."

Stiles saw how serious Derek was about this and he was grateful the boy didn't ask any questions. "I promise… to punch you in the face."

AN: Thank you to everyone who sent me the songs! You've helped A LOT! Keep them coming if you can think of any other. And let me know what you're thinking about the story too, you know? Not trying to beg for reviews, but kinda doing it hahah xD