~*~SIX MONTHS LATER~*~

Going back to Stanford wasn't exactly the return to normalcy Stiles had been expecting, just like his return to Beacon Hills after the events of Oak Creek hadn't been. For starters, he was able to move into a special dorm reserved for Bonded and Mated wolves whose Mates didn't attend the school. Granted it took a whole lotta paperwork, an interview with Stiles and Derek together, and several witness statements—he liked to think the one from the State Alpha went a long way in expediting the process of his application—but he was in before the start of his junior year that fall.

Lydia had also gotten in the same dorm, was even located in the room directly across the hall from him, and the two spent almost every free moment together—when not on Skype dates with their respective Mates, of course.

The solo room—with its own private bathroom, extra counter space, and giant bed—in the special dorm also meant that Derek was able to visit and even spend the night. And by night, clearly that meant an entire weekend, he and Parrish road tripping up together after the end of their shifts on Fridays and heading back down Sunday evenings before their Monday double-shifts to make up for the weekend off. The alpha often mentioned complaints from Haigh over special treatment of the "newbies", but Derek didn't seem all that bothered by it, proving he belonged in the sheriffs department through his hard work and diligence, earning his boss' respect rather than just being handed it because he was Mates with the man's son.

Hell, if Stiles knew his dad, then the sheriff was actually being twice as hard on Derek rather than taking it easier on him, but weekly phone calls with his old man had him confessing that he really respected and admired his former/ future son-in-law.

Derek had moved to Beacon Hills not long after he and Stiles had gotten together, giving his old house to Cora and leaving the furniture in it—except the bed, which Stiles insisted he take. The alpha now resided in a supposedly refurbished loft on the outskirts of town in what was formerly a warehouse district. All the old photos from his office were put up on the brick wall, along with one of him and Stu from the mantle that Stiles had finally gotten enough balls to look at, the pic surrounded by one of Derek and Stiles together and the last one the twins had taken together before Stu had run away. There were also new photos put up, including one of Stiles with the Hale siblings, Malia, and Kira, with no skeptical side-eyes from anyone.

The generic Toaster Pastries also came with Derek, who explained he preferred them over the name brand because there was more filling and it was tastier. Stiles never did explain why he pounced on him after that.

Braeden was named captain of the S-Dubs in a move no one argued with, having long since earned everyone's respect with her general badassery and take no shit from no one attitude. Cora was given the role of her second in command, replacing Parrish, who'd apparently held the position before her. Jackson had been let off his parole and punishment for lying about not knowing Stu, the truth of Stuart's situation coming out and explaining any wrongdoings on the alpha's part.

The Blaszkiewicz family tree had been explained to Alpha Martin in a private meeting between her, the sheriff, and Derek and she'd taken the news in stride, confessing that she'd found it strange that she couldn't recall anyone in her family being County Alpha before her father had taken the job when she was a child. It had also been decided that Derek would begin shadowing her during his free time to prepare for taking over the job himself, since he'd been raised being trained to become State Alpha. He later explained to Stiles that he and Laura had grown up not knowing who was older so neither of them would feel any pressure on their future role or jealous that the other was getting special treatment. His mom had been raised the same way with Peter, but thankfully the younger set of twins weren't as delusional or self-centered enough to believe they were entitled to anything.

State Alpha Hale—or Talia, as she kept insisting Stiles call her—was said to be very proud that Derek was now the Beacon County Alpha's Protege. Laura liked pointing out she was still technically the boss of Derek.

Speaking of Laura, she wound up reconnecting with Chris and the two were working things out in a long-distance relationship, mainly because he wanted to stay in Beacon Hills for Allison. Although Allison herself had confessed during a weekly group Skype session with Stiles, Lydia, and Scott that she wouldn't mind if her dad moved to Oak Creek, that he seemed happier than she'd ever seen him since her mom's death and it wasn't like he'd be moving across the country, just four hours north. Laura invited Chris and Allison, then in turn Scott and Melissa, to the Hale home for Christmas, which they all accepted. The same offer had been extended to the Stilinskis, but Derek had turned it down on their behalf, knowing both Stiles and his dad would rather spend that particular Christmas in their own home. Laura had completely understood then shoved several boxes of gifts in Derek's arms and told him to "fuck off to your boy already, it's Christmas, you ass".

Stiles adored the shit out of her and was glad she'd gotten over her upset over his not calling or keeping in touch, understanding his reasons why.

Derek had, of course, been completely right about the Stilinskis preferring to stay home for the holidays. There was just something about being in his own home for winter break that settled something within Stiles, that helped ease the melancholy the holiday always brought about. It was nothing against the Hales or the big ass mansion they called a home—which he'd visited several times over the past few months—but it just wasn't the same. Sure, he felt like he fit in and belonged and like he was becoming part of the Hale family and pack, but he was still a Stilinski. And with Stu now gone, he found himself seeking the familiarity and comfort of his Birth Pack.

Because there was something very comforting about sleeping in the bed he'd had since he turned thirteen and his dad decided they were old enough for double beds now. There was something comforting about cooking in his own kitchen and not being told to go sit, he was a guest, don't worry about anything. There was something comforting about inhaling the scents of home and Pack and his dad and himself, with Derek's scent slowly blending in with it. There was something comforting about hanging up the same decorations they'd had since he was a kid, the heirloom star on top of the tree and his mom's hand painted nativity set in front of the living room window as always.

And he needed that comfort when he and Derek finally packed up Stu's room, trying to figure out what to keep and what to donate as they traded stories about the ghost that was always hanging around them but they never acknowledged. And that night as they tangled together under the sheets in Stiles' bed, they exchanged tearful anecdotes about the parents they'd each lost, marking the first time Derek had ever spoken about his dad in something other than the abstract.

Derek helped out with the tree, hauling it inside the house and holding it upright as Stiles gave directions on which way to turn it and his dad screwed it into the stand. The news droned on in the background, reporting on a plea deal Peter had struck, the alpha copping to everything in exchange for six life sentences, leading the sheriff to rant about how the treason charge alone should've sent him to the gallows. Stiles switched the TV off and played seasonal music from an internet radio app on his phone instead, refusing to think about Peter taking the prison sentence because he knew it gave him a better chance of escaping.

Everything was hung up the exact same way it always was, his dad giving his yearly swear-fest at the tangled lights and both of them giving their yearly comments on how pathetic and worn out the tinsel was, complete with the usual empty promise of "We'll get more next year". Garland was wrapped around the staircase with its usual debate of whether or not it was spread out evenly and the wreath hung on the front door with its accompanying argument over its straightness and centering. Derek smirked the whole time, confessing that it reminded him of back home and his mom and Laura's constant heated discussions over the centerpiece not being centered and the angel on top of the tree being crooked. Stiles smiled at the anecdote, deciding he couldn't wait to spend the most wonderful time of the year with the Hales, figuring they could spend alternate holidays with each family.

Their kitschy Christmas themed hook ornaments were placed on the mantle in their usual positions, stockings hung from them in their usual order: Dad, Mom, Stuart, Stiles. The omega got teary when he hung up his twin's, the reminder of his death still hurting in a clawing, stinging, burning way. He knew in time it would be more bittersweet than painful to hang it up with his late mom's, but for the moment, it ached down to his soul, especially when he realized both deceased family members were in the center of their little order.

Derek knew something was wrong immediately, wrapping his arms around Stiles from behind and pressing his lips to the side of his head, rocking him back and forth in a comforting manner.

His dad cleared his throat from their left and they both snapped their heads to see him, Derek's scent shifting to worried and guilty that he'd done something wrong. Even all those months later, of being with Stiles while his dad was around, of working under the sheriff, he still freaked out that he was doing something wrong when his touches were completely innocent. Needless to say, Stiles rolled his eyes at a him a little.

Or a lot.

Whatever. He was an eye-roller. It was what he did.

The elder Stilinski waved the other alpha's worry off with a scoff, pulling a paper bag from behind his back. "I know I didn't discuss it with you boys beforehand," he began, staring down at what he held in his hands, fingers smoothing the edge where it was folded down to hide its contents. "But that would've ruined the surprise. Beside, it's not like either of you will object or that we won't need this eventually."

Confusion flooded the scents of the couple, Stiles frowning in puzzlement at his old man. "Dad? What are you talking about?"

Unfolding the top, he reached inside and pulled out another hook, along with a traditional red stocking, Derek's name in gold glitter across the fluffy white band along the top.

Just like the rest of the family's.

Stiles inhaled sharply at the sight of it, his heart pounding in his chest and his stomach flipping at the implication behind it. His dad had fully accepted Derek, viewed him as part of the family, part of their Pack. He was making the other alpha feel as welcome and as part of the festivities as possible.

Derek stiffened all over, gripping the omega a little tighter than before, his breathing having completely stopped. Stiles rubbed his forearm where it was wrapped around his chest, trying to ease him, trying to bring him back to reality and recognize this as the super fucking awesome thing that it was.

Not that Derek didn't recognize it. The grateful note in his scent said he did. But he was also smelling of uncertainty, of trepidation, like he believed it was gonna be taken away from him, like he was afraid to be too excited in case it was a joke or the elder Stilinski changed his mind.

"Are you sure?" he asked, voice wavering, lump clearly in his throat.

His dad nodded, smile on his face. "You're family. You took care of one son to the best of your ability." He held his hand up when Derek opened his mouth to argue, already anticipating it. Mainly because they'd had that same conversation about five-hundred times already and Derek needed to just shut up and accept it already. "Things were beyond your control and sometimes my idiot kids hide shit thinking it's for the best." He gave a pointed look to Stiles, who began glancing around the room like he had no idea what his dad was talking about or who he could possibly be referring to because he was totally an angel. His dad rolled his eyes and shook his head before focusing on Derek once more. "I don't blame you for Stu. Never have and never will. And now I know for sure that you're gonna take care of my other son for the rest of your life."

Derek remained just as stiff as before, scent completely serious and Stiles peeked to see the grave look on his face and in his eyes. "Yes, sir."

An exasperated look formed on his dad's face, a sigh leaving him. "How many times have we been over this?" he questioned rhetorically, a familiar look on his face that Stiles was used to seeing aimed in his direction. "When we're at home, call me 'John'. Save that 'sir' bullshit for work."

"Yes, si—John."

Stiles snickered as his dad shook his head then stepped over to clap his deputy on the shoulder. "You'll get it one day, son," he stated, holding the hook and stocking out for him to take.

Pulling away, Derek took the offered items and stepped over to the mantle, glancing at Stiles over his shoulder as though to make sure it was okay. The omega nodded, small smile on his face, his Mate putting the hook next to his own. His eyes got teary again, a lump forming in his throat as his chest got tight. It belonged there, completing the cheery picture it made with the garland draped over the mantle and the deep red bows on either end.

His eyes glanced to the side, thinking of the two people who weren't there to witness another person being included, another family member added, and his chest grew tight at it.

"Wish Mom and Stu were here to see this," he murmured, sniffing as he wrapped his arms around himself, hands getting tangled in his red and green plaid flannel.

His dad wore a wistful smile, blue eyes shining for reasons other than the twinkling lights on the tree. "They are," he replied lowly, thickly.

A kiss was pressed to Stiles' forehead, his hair ruffled before an arm draped itself over his shoulder, but when he looked around, no one was near him. Derek was still hanging his stocking on his hook, his dad was three feet to the left with his arms folded, eyes focused on his future son-in-law. Warmth flooded Stiles, a soft smile growing on his face as he realized his dad was right. They were there to celebrate.

Stiles' room had also been decorated for the holidays, although rather than having been done by himself like it usually was, he'd had help that year.

White twinkle lights hung from the shelves above his desk, over to his window, to the shelves above his bed, long drapes that completely encompassed the room like some hipster girl's photo on Tumblr. His desk featured a plastic two-foot tree, white lights wrapped around it, Star Wars ornaments hanging from it due to his dad's refusal to let them all be on the main family tree. Han Solo topped it, Stu's Enterprise ornament featured prominently in the front. And in the back corner, a blow up Darth Vader with a Santa hat stood proudly, an early gift from his Mate who grinned widely at the excitement rolling off the omega.

After it had been set up, the fan whirring to keep it inflated, Stiles had practically pounced on Derek, the two soon naked and writhing against one another on top of his bed.

His eyes drifted over to it as he sucked his Mate down, grinning at the way Derek's teeth sank further into his bottom lip, the way his fists clenched around the dark blue sheets. The alpha let out a whimper as his head tilted back, veins showing in his neck as his entire body pulled taut, struggling to keep quiet. He let out a gasp as Stiles pulled back to the head, eyes going wide before they lowered to the omega between his legs, brow pulled in a pleased frown, mouth hanging open as he panted.

They both knew what they were doing was risky, that Stiles' dad was just down the hall, and despite the sheriff being fast asleep and everyone involved being legal, there was still a chance of the older alpha waking up and being none too pleased with what was happening beneath his roof. It wasn't that he wasn't aware that his son was now sexually active, but it was one of those things that he'd rather just not know about—or witness.

Hence the quiet sex.

Which had been challenging as fuck when Derek had eaten Stiles out like his life fucking depended on it and the omega had practically come his brains out, three fingers on his prostate and mouth sucking at his hole.

Jerk.

But two could play that game, Stiles smirking as he stared up at his alpha coyly, hands sliding up his muscular torso. Derek's breathing was shaky, chest shuddering with every exhale, a trembling hand rising up to cup the omega's cheek. His thumb rubbed at the apple of it, drifting down as Stiles slid his cock in his mouth once more, pad of the digit pressing against his cheek to feel himself.

"Fuck," he breathed out reverently, fighting to keep his hips still.

Stiles hadn't been the best at this when he'd first started out, his lack of experience leading to a lack of skills. But for all his sloppy enthusiasm, he was a quick learner, soon figuring out what to do, when to do it, how to do it, little tips and tricks that had Derek falling apart beneath him and spilling inside his mouth.

His gag reflex could still use some work, but they had the rest of their lives to help him get rid of that pesky problem.

Not that it was much of a problem at the moment. Nope. Stiles seemed to be getting the job done just fine.

With a smirk, he rolled his tongue underneath the head of his Mate's cock, relishing the shuddering gasp he got in response, the twitch he felt against his cheek as Derek's thigh spasmed and his legs closed slightly. He pressed his hands to the alpha's inner-thighs, pushing his legs apart, only successful because the other man let it happen. Then he sank down on his cock, relaxing his throat and breathing through his nose as he took as much in his mouth as he could.

Derek's hand flew from the omega's cheek to his own mouth, slapping it over his lips to muffle a moan, his head tilting back in pleasure and supplication. Stiles reached up and splayed his fingers over the older man's throat, over the side of his neck, rubbing at the smooth skin above a fading Mate's Mark, making him whimper and whine behind his hand.

He loved this, loved the power he felt, even if it wasn't real. But he had an alpha completely at his mercy, had him falling apart from his ministrations, had him weak-kneed and shaking at what he was doing. It was a rush, his chest puffing up in pride and domination of sorts, his wolf rumbling in pleasure. He could feel slick soaking between his cheeks, his own cock hard between his legs once more and he pressed his hips into the mattress below him, seeking friction. Because the entire thing was turning him on once more, the taste of Derek in his mouth and the feel of his body beneath him, the way he had his fingers wrapped around his neck and his hand pressing into his thigh. It would be so easy to squeeze a little harder, to sink his claws into his femoral artery—not that he ever would, fuck no—and they both knew this.

Yet Derek let it happen, didn't fight off the weaker omega, didn't try to pull away or command him to stop. He let it happen and gave in to it and even enjoyed it, given the way his cock twitched in Stiles' mouth and more precome dripped out of it.

Stiles pulled back up, sucking hard at the head again, tongue slipping into the slit to gather up more of that copious precome his alpha leaked, moaning at the taste. Hand slipping from his mouth, Derek slid his fingers through Stiles' brown hair, tugging at it to pull him completely off his cock with a pop that seemed louder than normal in the otherwise silent room. The omega peered up to meet eyes that were flickering back and forth between alpha red and Derek's amalgam of green, gold, gray, and brown, feeling more slick soaking his passage and leaking out of his gaping hole, drool falling from his mouth and landing on his Mate's cock.

Derek's mouth hung open as he continued to pant, a shudder racing through him as his hand slid around to cup the omega's cheek, thumb rubbing along his bottom lip in reverence, wiping up the saliva and precome that was coating it. "Need you," he whispered out harshly, voice wrecked from their actions. "Need to be in you. Fuck, let me claim you, please."

The younger man could only nod before crawling up the larger man's body, their lips connecting instantly as he straddled him. Hands cupped his ass, bringing him down, aligning their hard cocks and making them both groan into one another's mouths. His hips rocked on automatic, sliding them together, as index fingers tugged at his rim and stretched him further, preparing him, getting him ready for his Mate's knot. He shivered in anticipation, one hand gripping onto a broad shoulder, the other sliding through black locks at the side of Derek's head. Tongues tangled and slipped together, rolling, harsh breaths forced through their noses. Derek used his grip on Stiles' ass to control the rhythm of his pistoning hips, his own bucking up to join in. And with a swift and easy move, he slid his cock inside his Mate, seating the omega fully on top of him.

Stiles' eyes flew open as he pulled away from the other man's mouth with a gasp, his hand flying out to grab hold of the headboard. He raised up some, supporting his weight on a shaky arm, hand tangling in his sheet as he struggled to maintain his composure, as he fought not to cry out. The invasion had been sudden, taking him by surprise, but still very much welcome. He felt full once again, his Mate slotting them together perfectly, and making him cheesily feel complete.

But still...

"Fuckin' hell," he slurred, mouth slack, jaw hanging loose as he gaped down at the older man. "Warn a guy, would ya?"

"Where's the fun in that?" Derek ground out, his eyes screwed shut as he struggled to hold on to his own composure. They opened a moment later, delight sparkling within the polychromatic irises, smirk crinkling them around the edges. Jerk.

Stiles smacked his bare chest before moving his hips in a circle, a dirty grind, rubbing his Mate against his prostate and making them both gasp in pleasure. His head tilted back, eyes drifting closed, and he allowed himself to get lost in the pleasure of it all. "You're lucky you feel so good," he mumbled, wolf letting out a satisfied howl of its own in his head.

The alpha only grunted, which the younger man took to mean "you are absolutely right, Stiles, as always, good job". Smug grin on his face, Stiles fully sat up and sank back down onto his cock, making those green eyes go wide.

Blow jobs he was still getting the hang of, but this? This he had fucking down.

No pun intended.

Okay, he totally intended the pun. Puns were pretty much the best.

Derek bucked his hips up and totally changed Stiles' mind on what exactly the best was.

He let out a whimper, teeth sinking into his bottom lip to hold back on any loud noises, a small part of his brain that was still working reminding him that they weren't alone in the house. But the much bigger, much louder part of his brain was focused solely on getting off, everything else be damned.

With half-lidded eyes, he peered down at his Mate, noting how Derek's eyes were in a similar state, focused on his chest as his hands roamed up and down his sides, the touch soft enough to be gentle, but not too light to where it was ticklish, having learned the hard way just how sensitive Stiles' sides were. But his every touch was reverent and careful, eyes awe-struck and full of wonder, like they were every other time they did this. It made the omega's heart beat quicken, knowing he was seen as something special in the other's eyes, knowing he was valued and cherished.

Fingertips traced along his abdomen, over the barely there indents of a lame excuse for a six-pack. They connected moles and freckles in nonexistent pictures of amorphous blobs. They skimmed down ticklish flanks and over his ribs, before sliding around to his back as Derek rose to a sitting position. Stiles automatically slid his fingers through his Mate's soft hair as he felt the pleasurepain scratch of whiskers rubbing on his chest, scent-marked and beard burned, leaving proof of the flesh that Derek had once again explored and laid claim to.

A smile formed on Stiles' face as he bent his head over the older man's, feeling as Derek tucked his legs in closer, arms wrapped around his leaner frame. He was held close, cradled, but with care, the alpha respectful of the difference in strength. Blunt teeth dragged along his collarbone, up the side of his neck, and he tilted his head back to give him more access, easier access, shuddering when those teeth sank into his pulse point as recognition of his submission. All the while, his hips rolled, circled, grinding deliciously and working the other man's cock against his prostate.

"I love you," Derek whispered, dragging his bottom lip along the shell of Stiles' ear, hand splayed between his shoulder blades. "Fuck. Love you so much."

The omega nodded as he moved his head to look into his Mate's eyes, whimpering out a "love you, too" before their lips connected. Tongues rolled and hips surged and he dug human nails into broad shoulders to hold on for the ride, shuddering out a gasp at the inward thrusts. "So very fucking much in love with you."

Derek breathed out a laugh, then buried his face in the crook of the younger man's neck to stifle a groan as Stiles' squeezed his inner-muscles around him. He slid a hand down to the omega's ass, squeezing, cupping, fingers sliding over to feel where his cock was sliding in and out of him and rasping out a swear.

"I wanna see," he admitted, lifting his head and cupping the leaner man's cheek. "Lemme see?"

More nodding as Stiles bit his bottom lip, wishing he could see, too. He briefly considered telling Derek to grab his phone to film it, like one of those terribly shaky homemade POV pornos he may or may not have watched on occasion, desperate to see what his Mate did to him, but shoved the idea aside. There was no way he was allowing any sort of break in action, no way he was letting the alpha out of his body, much less his bed.

Some other time.

Yeah.

As long as they both agreed to never show anyone else or let anyone else know they had filmed themselves fucking. He didn't think Derek would have an issue with that though, knowing how possessive alphas could be when it came to the more intimate details of their Mates.

Not that Stiles was all that keen on letting anyone know anything about Derek, a fact that Lydia and Allison were both now aware of after he'd glared at them for asking to describe his alpha's dick.

Not fucking happening.

As much as he was dying to brag about it, because holy shit it was perfect.

Derek laid back down, hands gripping Stiles just above his hips, the omega lifting up to the head of his cock and squeezing. Fingers tightened their hold on him in an effort to bite back any noises and he let out a gasp that turned into a groan, head falling back. A hand slapped his ass lightly and he smirked, lifting his head back up to peer down at his Mate, who was scowling up at him.

"Tease."

He blew him a kiss and giggled lowly at the eye roll he got in response. But the amused scent rolling off Derek as an undertone of all the lust and sex let him know his dorkiness was appreciated and loved.

Still gripping onto him, Derek lifted his hips in a hard slam, knocking the breath out of Stiles and causing him to almost lose balance. He grabbed onto the headboard with one hand, the other holding his cock against his lower abdomen, biting his lower lip so hard he tasted blood as he was repeatedly filled and emptied by his Mate. The alpha braced his feet on the bed for more leverage, speeding up his motions, panting harshly as he stared at where he was entering the younger man, unable to look away.

A lot like how Stiles was unable to look away from Derek's face, really. Even in the dimness of the Christmas lights, he could see the flush on his cheeks and the sheen of sweat on his skin, the shine on his lips from where he'd licked them, the way his pupils had dilated to leave just a sliver of red-flashing green. His mouth hung open, dark lashes fluttering on half-closed lids, brow pulled in pleasure, and Stiles had never seen anything more beautiful.

And he got to keep him.

His hand lazily stroked his cock, not really wanting to get off but needing to touch himself, trying to prolong everything. It wasn't about the orgasm or the rush of pleasure from coming, but the slow build, the joining between the two of them, the way they came together and gradually lifted one another to that precipice. He didn't want it to end.

The squeaking of the mattress stilled his hand and Derek's hips, the two completely freezing as they both searched the house for other sounds. Down the hall, his dad snorted and snuffled, his own mattress creaking as he rolled over. His heartbeat remained steady and low, the snores resuming, meaning they were safe.

After a long minute of tense silence, the couple locked eyes and promptly started laughing, Derek covering his mouth to muffle his while Stiles buried his face in the alpha's chest. Chuckles wracked them both, making the bed slightly shake, Derek wrapping his arms around his Mate and holding him close.

"Maybe we should change positions," he suggested, keeping his voice low.

The omega nodded then sat up, lifting himself off his alpha's cock and kneeling to the side. "Where you want me?"

Flashing red eyes looked him up and down, a tongue darting out to lick his lips, Derek rumbling out a growl before cutting it off, eyes flying to the door to check. Safe once again, he rose up onto his own knees, moving so he was kneeling behind Stiles, hands going to his hips and moving him so he was facing the headboard dead on. "All fours," he whispered right into his ear then nipping it, making the younger man shudder.

Stiles dropped down onto his forearms and arched his back, presenting in the way his instincts told. A low groan came from behind and his wolf wagged its tail proudly and pleased. Reaching back, he grabbed hold of his cheeks and spread them apart, putting his dripping hole on further display.

"Fuck me, alpha."

The rumble returned but rather than entering him like Stiles had asked, Derek pressed his mouth to the rim and sucked hard. The younger man buried his face in his sheets to cover up his groan-tinged laugh, back arching to just short of breaking, trying to pull more of him in. But he didn't get that either, Derek pulling away and straightening up. Thick thighs bracketed his, a cock slapped against his hole a few times before the head was lined up and Derek slid inside.

Stiles bit down on his pillow, practically choking himself on cotton and fiber filling in order to quiet his cries. He let go of his cheeks and pulled his hands under his chest, then pressed his thighs together, making a tighter passage for the other man to enter, squeezing around his cock every time he was filled.

Derek choked out a gasp, hands squeezing his hips, the tell-tale prick of claws digging into his skin but not breaking it, not drawing blood. "Oh fuck, feels so good," he breathed out, hips pistoning in and out in a steady pace. "Such a good little—" He cut himself off, able to stop the thought from leaving his mouth.

Not that Stiles hadn't already finished it in his own head, but he still appreciated the effort. A week or two after they'd gotten together, he'd come clean about what exactly had happened between him and Peter, about the sexual advances the older alpha had made and the shudder-tastic way he told Stiles about how he'd train him to be a good omega. As a result, Derek steered clear of calling Stiles that very thing, knowing it was a trigger of sorts, knowing that it caused the omega's heart rate to kick up in an unpleasant way and his breath to get caught in his lungs for all the wrong reasons.

But what Derek hadn't known was that Stiles had been working on that trigger, had been staring at himself in the mirror and calling himself a good omega on a daily basis, until the words meant nothing to him, until he no longer thought of icy blue eyes and snarling words.

Thrusting back against his alpha, he peered over his shoulder at him, trying to meet his eyes as much as he could. "Tell me," he breathed out, swallowing hard.

Derek shook his head, ducking it, hips still moving as his hands flexed around his hips.

"Please," Stiles pleaded, not getting a response. Raising himself up, he pressed his back to the older man's chest, wrapping an arm around his neck and dragging his lips along his whisker-covered jaw. "Please. Tell me." An arm wrapped around his torso and he circled his fingers around his wrist, dragging the hand down so it was cupping his still hard cock. "God, Derek, tell me please." He squeezed his inner-muscles as he sucked his Mate's earlobe into his mouth and nipped at it with a fang.

Derek gasped loudly, entire body spasming from the sensation and he only just managed not to scream out, biting down at the crook of Stiles' neck in a flurry of motions. The omega covered his mouth with his hand, his Mate panting out harshly once, twice, three times before lifting his head, lips held next to his ear.

"Good omega," he whispered, his words a low rumble, a growl vibrating against Stiles' back.

Stiles keened behind his hand, feeling himself practically fly closer to his orgasm. Derek's free arm wrapped around his chest, hand laying gently over his throat, thumb rubbing over his pulse point as their lips connected. The hand cupping his cock wrapped around it, stroking it, making him tremble and whine. He was getting close, too close, and he still didn't want it to end.

The throbbing he felt at the base of Derek's cock didn't help matters, the way it pulsed as it grew larger, his knot plumping up. It was getting harder for him to pull in and out, harder for him to thrust the way he wanted to, and he let out a whine that sounded more animal than human due to it.

"Stiles, baby, please," he breathed against the omega's lips, making him whimper. "Need you to come."

He shook his head vehemently, refusing, fighting it, not wanting it to be over. He felt too good, too awesome, the endorphins making his skin buzz and his nerves tingle and he could see why people got addicted to this, because he was certainly on his way there.

Or at least addicted to Derek fucking him.

"Please," the alpha pleaded, lips pressed to his cheek, hand stroking him faster, squeezing him tighter. He let out a gasp, hips bucking on automatic, a push-pull between Derek's hand and his cock. His mind may have wanted it to keep going, but his body was demanding release, demanding he get off as soon as possible.

Asshole.

His fingers tangled in Derek's hair, tugging, the digits spasming beyond his control. Not that he had control of anything at that moment, hurtling towards orgasm, free-falling through it all with no parachute and no safety net.

The arm around his chest grew tighter, hand cupping the side of his neck as Derek nuzzled the other side of it, tongue trailing up the column of his throat. "Baby, I can't hold on," he rasped out, knot slipping inside and fully expanding to lock them together, as though on cue in order to back up the words. "I need you to come for me."

Stiles whined, fangs sinking into his bottom lip, hips grinding against his backside as the knot was rubbed against his prostate. Derek's thumb rubbed at the slit of his cock, playing with it, practically coaxing the come out of it, and his blunt teeth bit into the side of his neck.

Right where a Claiming Bite would go.

Stiles' eyes flew open, his jaw dropping and mouth widening in a silent cry, his entire body tensing up. His orgasm shot out of him like a rocket, hitting the wall, the headboard, his pillow, causing him to shake all over. He was vaguely aware of his claws digging into Derek's forearms, of the scent of blood filling the air only to be covered up by that of his come, everything that wasn't pleasure and ecstasy and Derek fuzzy and unimportant.

Meaning he was only vaguely aware of the heat of his alpha's come flooding his passage, of the alpha cupping his jaw and bending his head back against his shoulder as he panted harshly against his neck, his own body trembling as he filled up his omega. He was only vaguely aware of Derek lowering them carefully, mindful of the knot still holding them together and the way parts of Stiles' body were either locked up or completely jelly, laying them side-by-side on the bed, avoiding the wet spot the omega had made. He was only vaguely aware of the shuddering orgasms that were wracking both of them and how powerful the whole thing was, due to the fact that he couldn't cry out like he usually did.

After he managed to come down from his high and his mind cleared of its post-orgasmic fog, Stiles found himself seriously contemplating his life.

Which wasn't really something one was supposed to do when being spooned by a shuddering alpha who was whimpering as another load of come was released inside them, but it was Stiles and it was his brain and neither of them were what anyone would consider to be "normal".

Biting his lip to hold back a groan of his own at the sensation, his eyes came across his still clear glass board, the info regarding Stu's disappearance having been removed a short time after he and Derek had gotten together and Stiles' mind was working right. Being away at school meant he hadn't really had the time to find anything else to put on it, another case or project to obsess over. Maybe he could use it when he started his thesis next year...

"Are you seriously thinking right now?" Derek grumbled, trailing his nose up along the sensitive flesh of Stiles' neck.

The omega shivered then nodded. "Can't help it," he mumbled back, reaching down to grab hold of his Mate's hand and play with his fingers. "Mind won't shut up."

"Mm. Maybe I need to do a better job then," the alpha suggested in his ear with a dirty grind of his hips, making Stiles' eyes roll to the back of his head.

He barely managed to shove his face into his pillow to stifle his moan, swatting his arm to smack blindly at the older man, scowling at the chuckle that was vibrating against him. "Not fair."

"Never said I play fair."

He peeked over his shoulder to glare at his Mate, huffing as he turned to face the front, staring at the glass board once more. Kisses were pressed to his bare shoulder, Derek's way of apologizing, fingers being laced together in front of his stomach. He let out a content sigh, small smile playing on his lips as his Mate continued rubbing his nose and pressing his lips to his bare skin. But rather than enjoying the intimacy of the moment, his mind was stuck on what used to be on that board, on the printed out messages that once littered it.

Clearing his throat, he settled more into his pillow, idly playing with the older man's fingers again. "You know that email Stu sent me on his last day?" he asked quietly, staring down at their hands.

"The one you said you couldn't read?" Derek accused, the cocked eyebrow practically audible.

He rolled his eyes at that. "Yeah, that one. Did I ever tell you what it actually said?" He felt Derek's head shaking against his shoulder. "'Mates don't always mean happy ever after.'"

A snort rocked them both. "Typical Stu really," he commented, smearing a hand over his face.

The omega seesawed his head in concession at that. "True. But I actually believed it for a while. I thought you and I weren't gonna get our happy ending, and Laura didn't seem like she was getting hers either. And Stu definitely didn't get his." His wolf whimpered in his head and his chest got tight the way it always did when he spoke about his brother and he sniffed, the sound loud in the dark.

More kisses were pressed to his skin, arms wrapping around him tighter. "I know," Derek whispered as he laid his head against Stiles'. "But I guess that just makes us one of the lucky ones. 'Cause come Hell or highwater, I'm gonna make damn sure you get your happy ending."

Stiles pulled away just enough so he could turn his head and meet the other man's eyes, noting how he was holding himself up on an elbow. "I already got my happy ending," he stated honestly—if not incredibly cheesily. "I got you."

A huge grin formed on Derek's face, dimples forming, lines appearing around those brilliant green eyes Stiles was in love with. Leaning down, he kissed his Mate, pouring every ounce of love and affection into it, turning the omega's brain to mush incapable of thinking anything but one thought:

"Yoall erry nodied yayhoo reev nowon."

"They all lived happily ever after."