Chapter Text
Finally. He wasn't cold.
For the first time in what had to be over a year, he was not cold anymore.
He felt warm. Almost too warm actually. He could feel it burning inside him, like the embers of a fire still capable of burning down entire forests. But thankfully it was warmth he could use. Fire heals as much as it destroys.
He takes his palms from the Nemeton, feels its consciousness fade from his mind and focuses on the ground. The cellar in fact, where they keep the Nogitsune. He can feel that being caged for so long means its not as strong as it could be. That it could be stronger, could have this, could have that. He's strong right now that. Stronger than it. He pushes his Spark into the ground, feels it pulse outwards. Beating in time with his heart. Feels it burn the Nogitsune to a fucking crisp like it should be. Stiles feels it ripple along the forest floor, dancing against the Telluric Currents. He feels it finally stop and bounce back after reaching the 'end' of the territory. It was quite a while outside of Beacon Hills proper by maybe a twenty minute drive all the way around the Nemeton and the Preserve. As it was slowly bouncing back, he made sure to set wards around the edge of the territory and once again around the clearing of the Nemeton. Strengthening also the ones he and Patrick had made in his first Magic lesson. Feeling accomplished, feel pulled on his tattoo, feeling the bonds pulse and as he tugged all three gently, he felt three joyous and slightly hesitant tugs back.
He could feel the rest of them as well. Cora, Patrick, the twins Matty and Maddy. Even Lucinda and then Alex and Talia and the previous Hale Matriarch Charlotte, hidden in her private Hale quarters in the Beach House and God he could feel Lucinda and her growing children, their bonds small but pulsing.
He was Pack. He really was Pack wasn't he? for the first time in his life he was accepted into a family that didn't care about the blood on his hands or the tears on his face but still knew he would protect them and they would protect him in turn. It was relief that made him turn to look at Talia. He didn't expect to see ever single creature bowing. Some praying. Some on their knees. All he knew, were signs of respect in their cultures. It was a lot.
"Talia?" He says and he can feel his throat tighten as she looks up.
"I felt it, I think we all felt it. You've healed this land. My lands, they were, dying they were just dying. A blessing Stiles, you are the blessing we all needed. It didn't matter that the lands were giving us fertility and more crops, no it was dying still, but the Magic is coming back and this is all you isn't it? The small blessings, the flocking of creatures to our lands, the the-" She was clearly putting things together that he didn't really understand but if the Magic is (was?) dying that would explain how everything got so bad back in his reality. She was on her knees still, eyes wide and not quite there.
"Hey, I'm thinking I need to at least like help the Pack make dinner tonight if Isaac is going to successfully get added to the Pack so, maybe we should take a slow walk back to the House?" He suggested even though he was practically buzzing on the inside. There were plans to have and yeah he could get behind being full strength.
He offered her a hand up, and they both knew, it was more than a show of strength for Stiles. He was offering more than just a hand up. It both meant more to them than help off her knees. He was offering her everything he had. She took it. Perhaps they would be able to make something beautiful out of this situation and then he was being hugged. God when was the last time someone his Mother's age had hugged him and meant it? He missed her so fiercely all of a sudden. That is how the yearning usually came after all. Strong and out of nowhere.
The walk to the House was full of the same thing there but without the full commentary. The wandering hands of thanks were reverent. He could have sworn for a moment he saw a version of the Witch he had met that had given him the muffins and ingredients for the spell just... older. Oh, maybe the Grandmother he was asked to save? But she was gone with a smile before he could think to follow. He had so many people to save still. So many.
After the swarms of people had slowed down to a trickle, they talked. Not about battle plans, not about her family or what they had to do. They talked about their favourite colours, the time Laura spilled paint on a three-hundred year old rug (they still had it) and Stiles' favourite places to go in the summer with his parents when they were happy. Stupid little things but it was those things that really made up knowing a person didn't it in the end? They were getting to know each other. Stiles was kind of happy about it.
Back at the House, it was getting late, almost midnight. Patrick and Lucy had put the remaining kids to bed. Derek met them at the door. Well, Talia gave them both a ruffle of the hair then swayed on through and inside.
"Hey" Was all Derek managed to coyly get out before Stiles had his pinned against the front of the House, hands branded to his hips, "Oh okay well I guess I should say hey more often." is what followed.
"You - god damn it Derek, you smell like mine." He practically growls (ha!) against his throat (ha ha!). "I couldn't tell before but you really do smell like you belong with me, and to think you even got angry when we first met."
"Yeah well I was dealing with some nightmares and oh wait did you mean not me like before me that-"
"No, not him. You're not him. You. You pushed me against your Mother's office wall and went all Werewolf on me saying 'You're the one' all angry like. Other Derek he- uh just stared a lot, told me I was on private property and to get lost. Stalked me a whole lot after though. And then there was the life saving fiascos after that. Plural." Stiles continued to take in Derek's scent all pine and oak and barley. So different to other Derek's scent that he just had to breathe it in for a moment, get lost in it. Derek almost whimpered as he traced the veins in his neck with his mouth.
Stiles relaxed the tight hold he had against Derek's skin, knowing there might be bruises if he held on any longer, knowing his Spark was pulsing with the need to claim in any way it could.
"I uh. Thanks. For saying I'm not him. I guess its just, I have all these memories, all these feelings that I know were his and its just a lot sometimes. It feels like I'm not who I should be, maybe." It's spoken into his chest, eyes downcast, voice timid.
"You are exactly who you're supposed to be, Derek Hale." Stiles utters quietly, almost tenderly. "You always have been. This Derek and the Derek from my timeline were exactly who they needed to be at that time. You are exactly what I needed when I came here, and exactly who I need now, and who I will always need in the future, okay? You'll change, but that one fact won't. You'll always be you, whatever that means for you and for me and for us." Derek had looked up at him in the middle of his quiet speech, looking all but heartbroken and mended as he heard the words.
Derek pushed gently against Stiles' chest. Stiles let him go, stepping back and out of his space. Almost immediately though, Derek pulled him back in, gently hugging him from behind as he turned to go back inside.
"Thanks. For always saying what I need to hear, even if I don't want to hear it." It is muffled slightly by Derek's face in his many layers, but Stiles can hear everything just fine now.
"Anytime Der, now c'mon I promised your Mother I would help with the Isaac situation. We also need to talk battle plans. No. Nope you will not be privy to the battle plan meeting. No way." Instead of staring at Derek's puppy dog eyes (and how unfair is that?) Stiles opts to grab his hand and pulls him into the House instead. After they're inside, they're taking off their shoes when Derek stills and turns his head.
"Mom says the battle plans can wait. She needs sleep ('apparently' he stage whispers to Stiles, they both know its a lie) and Isaac won't be over until the morning. Something about the social worker being caught up with something? Dad and Cora are on their way back. I don't know but there's nothing we can do until the morning. Wanna go to bed?"
Stiles thinks about it. Thinks about quite possibly actually laying down and falling into slumber alone and in a bed in a House he hasn't ever slept in before without want and conscious decision. It makes him nervous.
"What if I have a nightmare and Peter isn't here to calm me down?" Stiles shuffles awkwardly on the spot "I mean there's always things to plan anyway so I-" He is yanked quite forcibly towards the stairs, up to the second floor which is definitely not the floor with his assigned bedroom in it, and into what he knows is Derek's bedroom. "My pajamas aren't even on this floor." He says, quite awesome struck by the sight of Derek in the moonlight. He doesn't bother to answer Stiles, just roots around in a drawer for a t-shirt that he throws at Stiles, which he thankfully catches. It is super soft and from what he can tell, its a green ish colour and striped through with white. He stands by the bedroom door numbly watching the scene unfold.
He quickly decides there's no avoiding this fate and by the time he has wriggled out of all of his shirts, he's met with the sight of Derek in just a pair of grey sweatpants. Oh and coming towards him too.
"Uh hi." Is what comes out of Stiles' mouth. Instead of saying anything, Derek takes the shirt he had given Stiles and gently gathers it up and places it over his head. He figures out he can do the rest and pokes each of his arms through their respective holes. Derek tugs it down the rest of the way, and fucking slowly too. Each knuckle grazing his skin. "What I don't get any sweatpants?" He tries to joke.
"I run hot." Is Derek's only reply and jesus was he glad he didn't utter another syllable because Derek speaking low and sultry like that was going to do things to him.
"Gotcha, I'll just, get rid of these then." He gestured to his trousers.
One world renowned Hale eyebrow raise later, Derek's fingers brushed against his ribs and Stiles almost lost control right then and there. Stiles closed his eyes, really trying hard to not fuck this up like he fucked up most things in life. It isn't until he feels Derek's fingers shift to the front of his jeans that he opens his eyes to find him in front of Stiles, on his knees. And holy fuck if that isn't a sight to behold. Shy and pushy Derek Hale on his knees before him like it wasn't going to push Stiles over the edge. He wanted to do this right but he still couldn't let the moment pass without cupping his hand to Derek's jaw, letting his thumb stroke back and forth against his jaw. Derek, of course of fucking course, leans into nuzzling, showing his neck, a sign of submission. And fuck if it doesn't go straight to his dick. It's pushing the last remnants of his control.
"You're really overestimating my ability to be a gentleman right now Derek." Stiles says and his voice is wrecked already. They hadn't even done anything. "Really overestimating it."
"I don't want you to be a gentleman right now Stiles. Quite the opposite really." And fuck if Derek didn't sound just as on the edge as Stiles did.
Stiles though? He broke. He fucking broke.
He grips Derek's chin with his thumb and brings his other hand round to thread roughly through the hair against the back of his head, angling Derek's head up so he could kiss him. It's slow and gentle and completely not what Derek was expecting if the gentle noise Derek made had to go by (thank you sound proof bedrooms). Stiles has to bend forward at such an angle with him on his knees and slips his tongue into his mouth on one of Derek's gentle moans. They break away for long enough for Stiles to just marvel at the sight before him.
"Fuck Der you look so good like this." He can literally see Derek's own erection twitch at the light praise. His blush deepens and yes Stiles was right when he thought it would spread down his neck and chest. It really does. Stiles wants to trace it with his tongue.
"Can I? Stiles I need...I don't. I need you to-" Is all Derek can muster, pupils blown wide with lust.
"Shhh I know." Another quick and far too tender kiss kiss later, Stiles is unbuttoning his jeans and with Derek's help they're sliding off and into the dark corners of his bedroom. Derek is panting slightly, he thinks they both might be, as he slides his hands up Stiles' thighs, around to grab at his cheeks and then back around to grip his through his underwear. Stiles swears and moans. He is overly aware that Derek probably hasn't done this, done anything with another guy before. Wants to let him know that he's doing a good job as he slots his face into the V of Stiles abdomen as he slowly strokes Stiles through his underwear.
Knowing that Derek is undoubtedly not in his element, but definitely all up in Stiles', he discards his shirt in one fluid movement and hooks his fingers in his last piece of clothing and pulling them of while he tugs on Derek's hair so he isn't hurt in the process. In exchange however, Stiles gets a porn worthy moan slipping out of Derek's mouth as he arches his neck away from Stiles. He wasn't expecting it but he can't help the soft moan he lets out in return.
"So good for me arent you. Fuck just look at you, on your knees for me. God. And those moans Derek, fuck." Stiles steps out of his underwear, kicking them to the side as he cups Derek's head, letting him go at his own pace, but still encouraging him towards his cock.
Derek takes a tentative look up at him as he licks a stripe up his leaking member. Stiles knows he must look as utterly ravaged as Derek does but he cant help but throw his head back at the feel of Derek's tongue against the slit of his cock. The feel of his lips encircling the tip and fuck, taking him just a little bit deeper on every bob of his head. He knows he's muttering curses and praises as Derek sucks him off. He's so close to begging him to just let him fuck his face at this point, both hands permanently threaded through Derek's hair, pulling at the soft strands and helping him keep pace. But he's trying to go slow, is ready to be glacial if that's what Derek needs.
Derek swallows him to the base. Stiles whines.
It so much all at once. The hot heat of Derek's mouth, the warmth of his skin, the gentle, tentative touches. Its too much almost.
"Der if you keep up with that, this is going to be over awfully fast." He tries tugging gentle on Derek's hair, only to pull another moan from his lips. He can feel it from where they're connected.
"Isn't that the point?" And god Derek's voice is wrecked beyond belief right now.
"What, you don't want anything?" And he's being playful here. Derek looks like a man with the whole world in front of him all of a sudden.
"You...You would-" Stiles decided he's going to take his chance before Derek can get too in his head about this.
He kneels on the floor himself. Knees bracketing Derek's, breathing heavy in front of him. Stiles takes his hands, places them on Derek's face and kisses him gently. No tongue, no lack of finesse. A promise. He would be here for him. His hands travel lower as Stiles nuzzle his face into Derek's neck. He smells perfect, like a summer evening and too much sun after a rainy spell. His hands trace the younger boys body.
"You still good Der?" he whispers low against his neck. He can feel Derek nod, shaky. "Gonna need some words."
"I-I Yeah I I'm good. I'm good. Keep. Keep going please." He was practically shaking apart in his grip.
"Okay. Okay I've got you Der." He pushed against him so that Derek was finally on his back, Stiles straddling him instead and slowly made his way down his body, taking his sweet time, tracing his body with his lips and hands. Leaving sweet marks that Stiles makes sure heal after a few moments. Makes sure his Spark is still controlled with how *out* of control he feels, almost shivering in his need and his want to please Derek. To make him feel good.
Now Stiles hadn't had much experience with this himself. So he made sure to go slow. Lick Derek from base to tip, listening to his sharp intakes of breath. Making sure to look up and lock eyes with Derek as he took him in his mouth, making sure Derek was fine with everything he did. God knows it was the least he deserved.
"Can I?" Derek utters into the quiet, ending on a moan. Hands reach for Stiles head. So Stiles does what any starving man would do. He reaches up, tangles his fingers with Derek and places them on his hair, making sure Derek balls up a thick fist in his hair.
Derek sets the pace, almost punishingly slow to begin with until he realises Stiles can take everything he's giving him. Then he speeds up and Stiles keeps encouraging him, until he's basically deep throating Derek on every push in. After he starts to falter, Derek lets him go, eyes shining a bright gold. It almost sending Stiles over the edge, seeing Derek so close to losing his own control.
"C'mere Stiles please. I need-" Derek's voice is wrecked and his own is probably the same, a simple "I know Der, I know," confirms it. He slides up Derek's body on shaky arms. Derek's cock is slick with his spit and saliva, its easy to wrap a hand around them both and start up a brutal pace. Derek's hands find his hair again, this time a gentle threading to angle his mouth against his own. The kiss is at such a contradiction to their actions he cant help but slow down his movements. The slowed drag of skin against skin becomes almost all he can feel, hovering above Derek, skin touching, arm braced, that his whole world zeroes in on Derek. Stiles bites Derek's bottom lip and the gentle swipe of his tongue is what sends Derek over the edge. The feel of Derek coming against him, the pulse of his joy and ecstasy that floods their bond is what gets Stiles.
"Fuck Stiles!" And Stiles for once, is speechless, an almost silent moan against his lips. They come against each other with Stiles still stroking them, maddeningly slow.
At Derek's whine, finally overstimulated, he lets go of them. Slumping into Derek's body, both coming down from their highs, Stiles is almost expectantly, the first to say something.
"Was that okay, Derek?" He looks up into the other boys eyes, still faintly glowing gold. "Cause I've never really, yknow, with a guy before, or anyone really-"
"You've never? I'm your first?" Derek's eyes turn back to that stunning shade of hazel and blues and greens and browns, its almost enough to drown out what almost happened in the basement of Eichen House. It wasn't him in control. Thank god it didn't happen in the end.
"Yeah you're my first, hey! Don't go getting so possessive, you dork." There's a laugh on his tongue and before he knows it the basement fades back into the background where it belongs.
"We're each other's firsts. Cant take it back, you nerd." And Stiles likes this, he thinks, this easy back and forth between them after something so serious and life changing. Because he can feel it now he's calmed down, his Spark has started to claim Derek. The fact that it can only happen if Derek wants to claim his back is the only thing calming him down from trying to seriously talk about it and breaking the moment this gentle teasing has created between them.
Derek pulls Stiles in, the feeling of lukewarm come between them feels tacky and gross, but he lets him nuzzle into his throat the sound he can feel in his chest Stiles knows is the Werewolf equivalent of a purr.
"Come on you absolute puppy, it's time for a shower. Separately." He says after Derek's darkening eyes and twitch of interest and as much as he wants to, he's still recovering from the past. Doesn't think he could get it up again if he tried. "And I need a pen, and paper. Maybe a pin board and some string if you have some." He's even more wired now. The bond, gentle and small but pulsing and *good* thrums within him, along his bonds, along his Spark. He feels at home he realises. For once he is exactly where he needs to be and he knows it.
Derek's eyes hold a gentle warmth.
"You seem a lot better now. Alive. I don't know how else to say it." He's shy about it, as if he's not used to having to explain his opinion, as if he's not asked a lot the struggles of being a Beta in a big Pack he supposes. It ruffles his feathers a bit, he knows why. He was overlooked a lot as well.
"I feel it. Alive, that is. Thanks Der." And he knows there's a warmth reflected in his own eyes as well, enjoys its presence.
"Go shower, it's the room round-"
"-The corner on the left. Got it. Where'd that shirt go by the way? I know I threw it over," Stiles gestures over to the right somewhere, "there maybe." Derek chuckles and God he could listen to that sound forever.
He's handed a t-shirt and a clean pair of (Derek's) underwear (at the sharing clothes stage already? wow) and given a shy peck on the cheek. His Spark hums a gentle ebb and flow. Stiles returns it but on the lips this time. Wonders if Derek will kiss him whenever he wants soon. He smiles again. Its not a familiar feeling but he knows it could become familiar again soon. Like a forgotten toy. Beloved and aching when lost. Still just as beloved when found again.
He shimmies past Derek, sneaks into the bathroom without a scene and turns on the shower. He even manages to find a towel in the cupboard under the sink. Its when he looks up into the mirror that he sees himself. He looks... happy. Cautiously happy, a barely there smile. But its not the melancholy lifelessness that was there before the Other House. Before Peter, before the plan, before the ritual. He can see there scar in his abdomen in the mirror. Feel its fresh nature and the throbbing pain still. He tries. He's trying. But right there is a throbbing reminder that some part of him is broken. Derek broke him earlier. No, he *let* himself break earlier. He'd do this right if it was the last thing he did. Courting, a typical Were custom. No big deal. He'd get Peter to explain it to him again, he's sure he had explained it to him at one point or another. He had been too consumed with getting here though. But it had worked. Stick to the plan, he reminded himself. Save them all.
One last lingering look at his eyes (windows to the soul, what kind of saying even was that?) and he jumped in the shower.
He didn't linger in the warmth, had no reason to when he could feel Derek start to panic down their bond the longer he spent in there. So he redresses after towelling off and sneaks back across the hallway. The House was quiet, a hush where he was bright and clumsy and alive with energy.
"Sorry I took so long. You're turn." Derek had cleaned up with some tissues perhaps, most of him cleaned, at least surface wise and he had a fresh set of clothes on the bed next to him. He looked visibly less stressed the longer Stiles was in his presence.
"You took so long I was starting to think you'd fallen over or something." The 'again' hung heavy in the air and Stiles was starting to feel a bit guilty, he didn't mean to worry him. Or make him doubt his actions earlier.
He'd have to ask Peter about the Werewolf courting stuff sooner so he didn't fuck anything up before he even got started.
"Me? Clumsy? Never." The shift in Derek's eyebrows said all that needed to be said. A small chuckle and a brief scenting against Stiles' neck and Derek was heading out for a shower.
"Pens and notebook is on the dresser, don't go too crazy while I'm gone." A sunny smile and the door was closed. He was once again, sans Derek.
That would give him enough time to plot out the next few days at least. The Pack was growing, Stiles was back at full strength, he was part of the Nemeton (sure not part of the plan but workable) and the Hales were safe for now.
By the time Derek is back, Stiles has already air marked his plans for the next few days. It starts with Deucalion.