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“Thank fucking God,” Stiles muttered to himself as the key finally turned in the lock after jiggling the damn door until everything lined up just right.
He shoved his work keys into his right pocket and then ran his hand through shaggy mid-length hair — his natural espresso brown with thick streaks of dark red — as a small plastic bag dangled from his other wrist. Sighing in relief, he headed down the maze of employee corridors behind the stores on the second floor of Beacon Mall.
Being a supervisor at Spox left much to be desired, especially In the summer, but at least he got a discount on the bullshit that the wannabe Spencer's/Hot Topic sold. He even got stuff for free if it was about to be tossed for one reason or another. Jacob happened to drop a bottle of nail polish in his favorite color — Black Cherry, of course — on the concrete floor in back and while it didn’t actually crack where it mattered a piece of the top broke off and it got pretty scratched up, so now it was his. There was also a partially mangled GIR figurine, which only improved it in his opinion.
Stiles was looking forward to redoing his nails when he got home or maybe tomorrow afternoon on his day off, but first he was going to catch a movie at the multiplex upstairs.
Hanging back from the ticket counter, he was weighing his options when he caught movement out of the corner of his eye. Glancing over, he saw a multigenerational group of mostly dark haired, dark appareled people who were all unfairly attractive. Hales.
He knew that they were wolves and, as far as he could tell, the older ones knew that he was something, though not what.
His kind were fairly rare, at least in the States, because feline shifters were much more likely to mate with humans and then usually had human children when they did, unlike their canine cousins. Stiles happened to be the not quite 1 in 3 offspring of a such a mating to take after the shifter parent, his mother.
In addition, while their more solitary nature could help them fly under the radar, it also left them vulnerable to Hunters or other hostile creatures if they were actually detected. (It wasn’t that they’d never join up with other Weres or live in larger groups, but it would have to be something the individual actively wanted rather than a need or custom.) They had a natural masking ability — some extra bit of magic perhaps — that let them conceal their scent and other body signs at will, but that too could give them away if used at the wrong time.
And then historically, well, werewolves didn’t often care to have other predators on their territory and also had a very annoying habit of trying to claim that everything was their territory. As if the the absence of another pack meant an area wasn’t really claimed or that they didn’t have to share. Stiles wasn’t worried about the Hales hunting him, though. Things were much more civilized these days and they didn’t seem to be the “Retvrn” sort.
He’d seen the middle child of the Alpha, Derek, around Beacon Hills High before the overachieving beta graduated a couple years ahead of him. They were both at BHU now, soon to start their senior and sophomore years respectively, and Stiles would be lying if he said he didn’t make sure that he still saw him around occasionally despite having no classes in common on the sprawling campus.
The guy was gorgeous and by all accounts a decent person despite being a popular and rather audacious jock. I mean, football, swimming, basketball, and lacrosse over his high school career? Ridiculous. Derek had finally settled on the latter when he went to BHU on a scholarship and was currently captain of the team.
Stiles had tried out for lacrosse himself the year after Derek graduated, though with the exception of a few shining moments of glory he mostly warmed the bench with Scott. Track and field was more his speed, which he finally realized senior year. The 300m dash, 110m hurdle, high jump, and triple jump were his chosen events.
The Hales had been there at the state championship to cheer on Peter’s recently discovered daughter, Malia, in her commanding performance in the 3,000m run and javelin for neighboring Oak View High. Stiles had clipped a hurdle and gone down rather embarrassingly in the middle of his first race, but won bronze in the high jump and gold in the triple jump and 300m dash.
Their eyes locked briefly during the team celebrations after the meet, an amused smile on Derek’s face as he watched Scott tug him away toward the group heading for the diner. He looked back a few times as Derek was approached by fans on the lacrosse team and then rejoined by his girlfriend at the time, Paige, until they wandered off together.
That had pretty much been the extent of their interactions, but when Stiles got home late that night he brought himself off to thoughts of the wolf between his legs.
Back in the here and now, he suddenly realized that he’d been staring and looked away to find that one of the younger present Hales — Cora if he remembered correctly — was observing him with a smirk. He turned back to the schedule board and worried his bottom lip, playing with the black snakebite studs underneath. Well, at least they won’t *smell* what I was thinking about. When he glanced over again Derek was now watching him too, eyebrows raised and that same amused smile on his face.
Stiles nodded in greeting, trying to act nonchalant and likely failing. There were murmurs and giggles behind him as he walked up to the bored looking employee with Electric Lizard green afro puffs. Shayna, who frequented his store and hooked him up with free snacks and premium showings if the right people were checking stubs in return for discounts and discontinued items.
His fingers started tapping on the counter when moments later the wolves also stepped up to buy tickets in the line beside him and he could practically feel the weight of their collective attention. They’d opted for the same sci-fi action-thriller, but Stiles was “upgraded” to the 3D IMAX and the Hales were content with a regular screening starting fifteen minutes later, so they weren’t in the same theater. He wasn’t sure if he was more relieved or disappointed.
As luck would have it though, he and Derek ended up going for a bathroom break at the same time, black lined whiskey brown eyes meeting hazel-green in the mirror above the sinks.
“Stilinski.”
“Hale.”
Stiles was surprised that the upperclassman actually knew who he was. Probably Cora’s doing.
Derek turned and leaned back between the basins while drying his hands with a paper towel, nostrils flaring and blatantly checking him out. Stiles snorted and turned sideways, shaking his hands and leaving damp spots on his shirt as he crossed his arms and waited for the inevitable question.
“So, I know this is rude and all, but I just have to ask—“
“Do you, really? Is there a gun to your head?” he snarked.
Derek grinned, tossing the crumpled paper into the bin over his shoulder without looking, and sidled closer smelling of curiosity and attraction. He lowered his voice conspiratorially even though they were the only ones in there.
“What are you?”
Stiles sighed and straightened up to his full nearly 6'3", gazing down into the werewolf’s eyes as if searching for some kind of assurance. It wasn’t forbidden to tell or anything, but he’d never done so before and wasn't certain that it was a good idea. If it’d be a whole thing with the Hales or make the cocky beta that he’d been stupidly crushing on run the other way.
“I’m not going to hurt you,” Derek said emphatically, his face growing serious for a few moments before breaking into a grin again. “Not even if you’re a sweet little rabbit or something. But you’re not a bouncing bunny boy, are you?”
Stiles bared his teeth and showed a hint of fang. “No.”
“I didn’t think so.” Derek winked and waited expectantly.
Lips threatening to twitch into a smile, he rolled his eyes and let his arms drop, swinging his right hand up and making a circular motion. “Guess.”
“Hmm…”
Assessing eyes looked him over again and warm fingers reached to take his wrist, bringing it towards that handsome, stubbled face to sniff at the thin skin over his rapid pulse. A light kiss was placed in the center of his palm.
“Large hands,” Derek mused, replacing his mouth with a grazing thumb and then staring down at size 15 sneakers — what else, black and dark red — which had to be ordered from a speciality store. “Larger feet.”
He was already flushing when that hungry gaze landed on the crotch of his black skinny jeans, which were getting progressively tighter, before meeting his again. Blown pupils ringed in gold and the heady spicy-sweet scent of arousal. “Large…everything?”
Stiles licked his lips and then they were kissing, the wolf delving into his mouth and backing him against the side wall. He let Derek take control a little longer, enjoying his eagerness and the curiosity about his jewelry. Then he slinked down and out of the cage of those muscular arms to push him face first into the white tiles.
“What do you think?” Stiles hissed, grinding against Derek's ass and earning a moan when he nipped an earlobe.
Minutes later he was leading them through the service corridors, each with a strategically placed outer layer held in front of them (flannel and leather jacket respectively) and into a dim storeroom. He was pressed back into the closing door, a hot mouth latching onto his throat as soon as they were shut inside.
Stiles froze momentarily, unused to allowing another predator access to such a vulnerable area, but he made himself relax and enjoy the enthusiastic attention. Eventually, he grasped Derek’s head and pulled it back so that he could take his turn, gently biting and licking over unguarded flesh before finally bringing their roving lips and tongues together. When they came up for air he had a calf wrapped behind Derek’s knee and there was a hand running under his hiked up thigh leaving a trail of tingles through the soft, stretchy denim.
“Long legs,” Derek whispered, squeezing and making him jolt, the motion driving Stiles’ hardness into his. Half-lidded eyes flashed beta gold and he let his own glow a bright, pale green. “Beautiful.”
He blushed and began to rub himself against Derek from face to abdomen, loving the way the other man’s scruff prickled and burned his cheeks. Holding onto his shoulders, Stiles rocked his pelvis into him and Derek responded in kind. At some point in the haze of grinding and kissing they ended up on the floor, the wolf on top of him pulling up his shirt to play with his nipples and rutting between his thighs.
Stiles was snaking an arm between them to undo their pants when Derek stilled and groaned, coming at the brush of his hand. To hell with it, Stiles thought, glomming onto him and writhing shamelessly, finding the hair trigger hot and not wanting him to be embarrassed. When he was close he pulled his cock out of his jeans, pumped a few times, and came into his fist.
“Fuck,” he breathed as he flopped down, withdrawing his hand. He was contemplating getting up and grabbing one of the rolls of toilet paper stacked on the other side of the room or just wiping it on his flannel a few feet away, but Derek grabbed his forearm and very deliberately brought it towards his mouth. Stiles let his fingers open and a hot tongue darted over and between them, still golden eyes holding his gaze his while licking him clean.
“Fuck,” he moaned, his cock twitching in a valiant attempt to get hard again.
Derek chuckled and slid off to the side their legs still tangled together. A text came in for him soon after and he rolled his eyes, sending one back while absently carding Stiles’ hair as they basked in the afterglow.
Setting the phone down, Derek took his hand once more — thicker fingers playing with his and complimenting his nail polish — and told him how he had seen him around, but didn’t think he actually had a chance with the “cool, unimpressed freshman” until Cora mentioned his apparent interest (i.e., blatant staring.)
Stiles was surprised, but quite pleased. He didn't think Derek would notice him at all after he decided not to continue his athletic endeavors at BHU. As much as he enjoyed the events and being on the team he loved his free time more, especially because he already had an academic scholarship and wanted to be able to work and help his dad.
"Well, I’ve had a crush on you since freshman year of high school, so…”
Derek smiled all crinkly and adorable, kissing his nose and letting go of his hand to pet his belly. Stiles closed his eyes and melted into the warm, rhythmic sensation. Soothing. Possessive. Before he knew it he had unconsciously began to purr.
Sounds of amusement and epiphany followed and when he looked up Derek was wearing a wide grin.
“You’re a cat!"
Stiles made an affronted noise. “Sure, if you’re a dog.”
“Come here, pretty kitty,” Derek crooned, pspspspsing at him and dangling fingers overhead. Stiles caught his arm and bit it, eliciting a dramatic “Ow!” despite the lack of blood.
“Cats love bite,” he shrugged mischievously.
“Wow, you’re already admitting that you love me...”
Stiles sputtered and then snatched the still unlocked phone from the smug wolf, keeping it out of reach long enough to send himself a text. He begrudgingly got up once Derek wrestled it back, wishing they could stay longer but not wanting to push his luck.
After straightening and dusting their clothes, helping each other where they couldn’t reach, Stiles kissed him — squeezing his ass one more time — and pulled him back into the hallway after a quick scan. He wasn’t concerned about the security guards supposedly watching the monitors because he had it on good authority that most of the cameras back here were useless.
Shayna raised her eyebrows and smirked when they returned to the theater and he did his best impression of wide-eyed innocence. They parted ways outside the auditorium where the rest of the Hales were currently enjoying a massive explosion.
“Later, Legs,” Derek called.
Stiles flipped him off over his shoulder as he walked away grinning like a fool.
The next weekend found him standing in the Preserve around noon, just across from Hale territory after sending his coordinates. Checking the reply, he removed his custom seamless niobium lip rings and carefully placed them in a tiny ziplock bag in his pocket next to his wallet and some wet wipes before undressing and bundling up his things. He dropped into his full shift.
Stiles didn’t do the whole shebang all that often, but it was frequent enough to make having to re-pierce himself kinda annoying. Transforming immediately closed the holes and the time he tried just leaving his jewelry in…well, let’s just say they migrated in unexpected and hilariously unfortunate ways. It screwed up his nails too, but this was worth it.
He twisted and stretched, extending and retracting his claws, and then climbed into a tree to wait. It wasn’t long before a large black wolf came sniffing around. Silently he crouched, his scent and and heart beat hidden, and then jumped down right behind him, swatting the startled canine’s backside and immediately taking off. He laughed internally as an indignant howl trailed behind him.
After evading among the trees, climbing and taunting when his pursuer got too close, Stiles finally jumped down and let himself be chased into the open. He was tackled moments later, but turned to get his hind paws between them, claws poised against the wolf’s belly just as fangs gripped his throat. A stalemate. Warm air rushed across his neck from an amused huff and they both slowly pulled back, shifting forms.
Derek gave him a look of admiration
“A lynx! No wonder you have legs for days…gorgeous.”
“You’re not too bad yourself, Balto,” Stiles replied, blushing. He sat up and knocked their shoulders together, laughing at Derek’s glare and drinking in the sight of his naked body. Fingers traced over scrunched up eyebrows. “Oh, too good to save the kids from diphtheria, are we? For shame…”
With a growl the wolf pounced on him again and grabbed his wrists, holding them against the ground above his head.
“When in Nome,” Derek smirked, leaning in and licking his face. Stiles giggled and kissed him, enjoying the feel of skin on skin even as he prepared to strike.
In the blink of an eye he had them rolled over, wrenching an arm free and straddling a surprised Derek with claws to his neck. He flashed his eyes and the beta submitted, baring more of his throat.
“Good boy,” he purred, delighting in how Derek whined and squirmed beneath him. Pleasure, embarrassment, and arousal bloomed in the late summer air.
Stiles nipped and licked over his chest, moving further down to wrap a hand around his nice, big cock and jack the thick, velvety shaft. Precum beaded at the tip and he lapped it up before stretching wide to suck and slide to where he grasped the base. He wished he still had his lip rings in for this, but alas, another time.
After edging Derek to his heart’s content — mouthing his balls and leaving pretty dark red bruises on his inner thighs, teasing around the head and enveloping him to the root in turns — Stiles finally relented and let him come. He swallowed everything that Derek had to give, including the remnants of his desperate cries when he crawled back up and licked into his parted lips, sharing the taste of him.
“My turn,” Stiles breathed, guiding him over onto his belly and settling behind him.
He gave silent thanks to the sports gods for the work of art that was Derek’s ass and palmed it with both hands, spreading him. Letting saliva spill into the cleft, he rubbed over his hole with a thumb. Should’ve brought lube, but I’ll make do for now.
“So, um, you don’t have spines do you?” Derek asked, looking over his shoulder.
Stiles chuckled. “I do actually.” At the wolf’s worried expression he added, “But only in my beta shift and they’re more of a ribbed for her — or his — pleasure thing, like little knobs. Not a ‘painfully raking your insides to stimulate ovulation’ thing.”
Derek sighed in relief.
“Besides, as much as I want to, I’m not gonna fuck you right now,” he said, adjusting his position. “Don’t want to hurt you…well, just a little. In a good way.” He made the barest motion of paddling and Derek gasped, sticking his ass out. Stiles smiled and shook his head. “How did I get so lucky?”
He ran his hand over those plump cheeks and then spanked them four times in quick succession, alternating sides before caressing them again. Derek grunted and hissed as a harder four landed in a different pattern, which turned to moans as the heated flesh was soothed. Another four came down and then a final unexpected smack across the center a moment later. Lucky number 13.
The sounds Derek continued to make were music to Stiles' ears as he massaged his tender bottom. He spit into the crease again and then his right palm, stroking himself. His own cock was maybe an inch or so slimmer and longer and he guided it between those lovely, reddened cheeks and plastered himself to Derek’s back, nuzzling at his temple. The fact that they hadn’t healed yet because the wolf didn’t want them to made him harder still.
“Yeah, believe me, I was freaked out myself when I hit puberty and tried to do some reading,” Stiles admitted, picking up their prior conversation. “Spines, what the fuck? I thought I’d either never get laid or get sent to prison.”
They both laughed, the shaking of their stacked bodies doing pleasurable things, and then he threaded their fingers together and began to move. Stiles described exactly how he planned to fuck him next time as he rutted against him. His glans dragged over Derek’s rim on longer thrusts and it made him growl, so close to burying himself within the currently pliant wolf who instinctively tilted his hips and pushed back.
“Mmm…you want it so bad, don’t you, puppy? Hungry to be fucked and filled like a good boy should?”
Derek’s ears turned pink, but he nodded and whispered “Yes.”
“What was that?” he asked with a wicked grin, stopping and pressing the leaking tip against Derek’s hole.
“Yes, I want you to fuck and fill me!”
Stiles set his teeth to the nape of Derek’s neck and groaned.
“That’s my good boy.” He started moving again, changing to shorter, swiveling movements as his pleasure built. “Soon, I promise. And then I’m gonna ride on that pretty, fat cock of yours. Make it all mine. Gonna come on it and cover you in my spunk while I milk you dry. Would you like that, puppy?”
“Yes, Stiles. Please.”
That fervent plea was enough to tip him over the edge and hot cum flooded between Derek's cheeks, a few spurts reaching his lower back, as he continued to climax. Stiles rested for a few moments when he was done, kissing his lover's shoulders and then gently squeezing his hands before letting go and easing off. He bit his lower lip at the sight of his handiwork, trailing two fingers through the mess trickling down Derek’s crack and onto his balls.
Circling his hole, Stiles pushed them inside when Derek relaxed and then slid them out to scoop up more cum before plunging them in deeper. The wolf whined when he did it again, brushing over that sensitive bundle of nerves. He pumped his fingers a few more times and then stilled with a sigh. There, properly marked.
Stiles gave a last playful bite to that delectable derrière and withdrew, wiping his hand in the grass. Just as he was about to suggest hanging out somewhere else he heard his phone chime in the distance, an alert that meant it was from someone at the store.
He groaned in annoyance. There was no way in hell he was going in today — he’d lie and say he was out of town if he had to — but maybe they just needed to ask a question or something. Quickly shifting back, Stiles butted heads and then licked Derek’s face with his rough tongue before loping back.
He was dressed and up in a tree again after telling Jacob how to price the new vampire-themed lava lamps when the black wolf came ambling by a few minutes later, head sweeping from side to side and then falling rather dejectedly. His heart simultaneously ached and rejoiced at the display. He liiikes me, he misses me alreeeady, Stiles sang internally.
“You gotta start looking up, dude,” he said out loud.
Derek startled and gave him a lupine glare, but by the time he was back on two legs a grin was winning out.
“You’re still here.”
“Duh,” Stiles scoffed, dropping his concealment and climbing down to drape his arms around him. Derek pressed him against the trunk, diving into his neck and inhaling deeply. His mouth soon followed, leaving bruises that Stiles would do his best to keep. Properly marked, he thought, grinning.
He was purring when Derek took a step back and looked at him like he was something special.
“So I never did finish that movie…what with the coming in my pants and deciding to go home rather than back inside to be mocked by my entire family.“ Stiles preened smugly. “Well, mocked more. Wanna see it again with me?”
“Sure."
There were definitely parts he’d missed even after returning to his showing. It was one of those movies where you really had to pay attention to the details to fully understand what was going on and he was quite distracted. Of course, there was also a non-zero chance that they’d get especially distracted again, but if so they’d just have to keep going until they saw it all. Stiles took Derek’s outstretched hand and walked with him into Hale territory.
“But let’s go to a different theater this time. No mall on my day off.”
“As you wish-pspspsps,” Derek proclaimed with an exaggerated bow.
Stiles pushed him over and skipped out of the way of his counter lunge.
“I’m too quick for you, Balto.”
“Bet I can reach the house before you do, Puss in Vans.”
Stiles cackled. Ouch, direct hit. He wasn't wearing them now, but did in fact have multiple pairs of the skateboarding shoes.
“Well, these are your woods, but fine. Point me in the right direction and if I win, I get to drive your Camaro, Benji.”
Derek snorted and directed him to a trail heading NE. “Not gonna happen, but sure. And if I win?”
“You get to fuck me first.”
It’s not his fault that Derek was still processing those words when he ran off.
For the second time that afternoon Stiles laughed while the wolf chased after him, though in their human forms the outcome would be more uncertain this time. He might excel at sprinting, but his long legs could go for miles.
And no matter who came in first, he was going to win either way.