So funnily enough this has turned out to be the last chapter. Heh. But I'm going to go back through it and find all those sneaky mistakes I've missed. But thank you all for sticking with this story and I hope you had as much fun reading it as I did writing it :3 and thank you so much for your comments and ideas and advice you're all just wonderful. I really love this fandom. So thank you all for being so awesome! (And trust me, this will not be the last Sterek lovin' I produce. I have plenty more sterek ideas for the future wink* wink* nudge* nudge*)

Toodles and Enjoy!

Yes.

It was safe to say that Stiles was no longer in the game anymore or in any universe remotely adjacent to the elusive game when he didn't even possess the strength to keep his head up off of his chest anymore. And that had to be the weirdest sensation in the world. It was like he had randomly developed some freaky kind of noodle neck and the rest of his body had decided to turn into a boneless, floppy mess of Stilinski.

He groaned distantly as he struggled to wrench his eyes back open to watch whatever the hell kind of fucked up thing was happening now. It sucked ass that he was letting down the team in the final moments, fulfilling the role of useless dead weight a little too easily for his masculinity to enjoy. If there was a way he could not be suffering from multiple head wounds he'd be kicking some serious Grandpa ass right about now but his head had been cracked open like an egg and there was a definite possibility that his brain was oozing out onto the forest floor.

Just to paint a pretty picture.

Only there was nothing remotely pretty about it because Stiles kind of felt like he might be close to passing out forever and never waking up which was slightly concerning in an holy God I'm gonna die kind of way. It all felt heavy- like a serious anvil sitting on his chest heavy- and he couldn't even begin to imagine if his badass werewolf husband had really made such a dramatic appearance or if he'd just invented the whole thing in his clearly damaged brain.

Because he was in love with him and apparently Derek's werewolf penis felt the same way which was nice.

But not the issue here. The issue was trying to keep conscious when he couldn't even hear the sound of his own name anymore and his brain had suffered such a core meltdown that he didn't even think he would recognise it anyway. Distantly he realised that he should be fighting a lot harder for this, to see who the hell had been killed yet or if Mattcreeper had magically returned from the dead. It wouldn't surprise him at this point.

Because zombies was just one easy step away from werewolves with magical penises capable of love and all.

But reality seemed to have already flipped its proverbial switch and basically everything had turned freaking upside down which meant that he had no freaking idea what the hell was going on. So it was a normal day for Beacon Hills.

He wished someone had warned him to wear his protective head gear or something before being kidnapped by Mattcreeper but considering he'd never really needed it before it made sense that it currently wasn't in his possession. Plus headgear at highschool was like some kind of very dramatic and aesthetically unpleasant form of social suicide. Not that Stiles wasn't popular enough.

The nature of his sudden sex life seemed to be. And the fact that Derek liked to knot him because it secretly meant love and rainbows and the feelings. Oh God, he prayed the news didn't get back to his dad.

About the knotting not the rainbows. God were his eyes even open yet? He couldn't tell.

He struggled with his heavier than Mount Everest eyelids and after what felt like a century they finally stopped feeling like they were lifting some serious set of weights and he managed to wrench them open. Which was definitely a mistake. His head swam and his vision was blurry and completely out of focus and that was fun because he felt a little bit like maybe he was high and that was a much nicer thought than brain damage.

He spotted the fully transformed in all of his wolf glory alpha only metres away from his serious wong tong, noodled body as he barrelled straight into Gerard. And he looked like a damn better version of fully transformed werewolf than the rogue had- but it had been dying and Stiles may have been a little biased. The geriatric got off a few arrows but Derek was too fast- much too fast for Stiles to keep track of- snarling out a frenzied noise as he slammed into him, throwing old man evil into the dead leaves.

The alpha quickly overwhelmed Gerard and Stiles thought he possessed some of that crazy ass strength that he'd suddenly discovered when he'd beaten up Mattcreeper. It had to be a thing. Or maybe Derek was just really pissed that Stiles had been brained against a tree stump and hit in the side of the face with a crossbow and almost werewolf raped. And… okay seriously? Did everybody just think that he looked like a human punching bag or what? It was not Stiles target practise, Jesus.

Derek made an inhuman sound which duh, he was fully transformed alpha wolf on a murdering rampage. And then Gerard finally got what he'd wanted, the alpha's teeth sinking into the skin of his neck.

Just before Derek ripped his throat out.

Or at least that was what it looked like from Stiles' concussion vision. Maybe the alpha was just giving Gerard one serious hell of a lovebite. Because they were clearly secret lovers and they were going to run away together and elope or something.

The blood spurted out of like everywhere in the vicinity of his throat only it looked much freakier in Stiles' blood vision. There was like blood everywhere. It was a freaking blood explosion. He was pretty sure he'd be swimming in it soon. And Stiles couldn't see Allison at all but he just figured she was off kicking butt somewhere, taking names and being a badass female with a crossbow.

So he decided he'd better put some effort into this and managed to straighten his posture from sort of just laying there in a daze, to sort of half sitting there in a daze. And now he was the biggest badass on the planet. He was clearly saving the day here. It was all down to him sitting in an upright position.

Again he wondered if he'd imagined his werewolf boyfriend coming to the rescue because he couldn't trust the images his eyes were sending his brain at the moment. But then he felt the wetness of Derek's snout pressed against his face and the leathery sensation of his tongue as he licked away all the blood. Which was a mixture of weird and oddly affectionate big wolfy Derek emotion.

Allison hovered anxiously over him, trusty crossbow back in her hands and Stiles finally realised that all was right in the world. Because she'd obviously made short work of all those woodland creatures. Thank God.

He gave them this sloppy- probably crossed eyed- grin and struggled to move his arms for a thumbs up. But unfortunately that was beyond him. Allison made a distressed sound and dropped to her knees beside them. Because she was clearly impressed by his sitting upright manoeuvre.

"Oh my God Stiles," she gasped, tears still running down her face. And clearly that was not a congratulations weeping but an holy shit are you seriously dying right now? kind of waterworks.

Stiles swivelled his noodle neck in her direction and felt the tug of a smile at his lips. Derek was whining pitifully and somehow his fingers ended up in his fur, latching onto him comfortably like the alpha was his own personal pet. Who he did not and would never ever feed lady snacks to for the sake of his soul and mental disposition, forever and ever amen.

An answering howl echoed nearby and the Scott blur burst into the clearing and made a beeline straight for the Allison blur. God, could Scott still taste the leather from being whipped within an inch of his life? Stiles could almost taste it himself, although he was pretty sure that was blood and he'd bitten his tongue sometime during the werewolf/ old man death match.

"Allison," he burst out wildly, running to her side and completely ignoring Stiles' clearly new developed jellyfish powers. He flopped a finger in his blurry direction.

"M' fine Scott," he slurred out sarcastic, jellyfish style. "Dn' freak."

The Scott blur actually turned to him and the gasp of horror that came from his lips satisfied Stiles to some degree and he lolled his head back into the alpha's direction because he'd creeped Scott blur out and his life was clearly fulfilled.

Although Derek had already transformed back into his human form and then Stiles felt a peculiar warmth slowly travelling up his arm and his head abruptly felt clearer. And then he saw the twisting, raised black veins on the alpha's arm and the strained expression on his face as he started taking everything from him. His pain.

"No!" he cried wrenching his arm out of Derek's grip with surprising non blubbery, jelly strength. The alpha's eyes snapped up in surprise and Stiles had never seen the expression on his face before. But he was determined not to let him do this.

Because the alpha had had enough pain to last a lifetime. "This is mine," he said his voice already back to normal from Derek's brief werewolf healing touch, pushing the alpha's hand away when he tried to do it again. "You don't get to take it."

The alpha looked confused but he bent forward to take Stiles' dislocated arm into his grip. "Okay, okay," Derek muttered and it sounded like he was talking to himself or at least trying to convince himself that Stiles wasn't deranged. "Then this is going to hurt."

Stiles stared at him blankly, uncomprehendingly. He couldn't figure out if Derek was going into alpha shock. And then he jerked Stiles arm, expertly snapping the bone back into the socket. Stiles screamed again high and shrill, a terrifying sound as he flopped around in an attempt to get away from the pain.

Derek's grip was ironclad, unmerciful and Stiles was seriously reconsidering his –Derek's penis loves me and the rest of him clearly loves me too- epiphany. Because that was spousal abuse and it fucking hurt. Like a whole hell of a freaking lot. Derek was going to have to give him some seriously mind blowing sex to earn his forgiveness. Stiles wouldn't accept anything less than zero brain cells and utter post coital bliss.

He garbled out some angry and no doubt highly offensive insults before he realised the stabbing, blinding, burning pain had dulled into a throbbing memory and Derek wasn't actually trying to tear his arm off from the rest of his body.

He groaned in shaky relief, softly burying his face into Derek's available shoulder before the alpha was lifting the Stiles jelly into his arms. And then he was upgraded from the usual hunted kill position to bridal style which clearly showed how much Derek was in love with his ass. Or was that his penis that was in love with Stiles?

He couldn't remember. Stiles' fingers locked around Derek's neck practically burying into his hair as his eyes fell shut.

"Don't fall asleep," the alpha warned and his voice was tight and restless. Stiles kind of liked the sudden emotion to it. In fact he liked it a whole hell of a freaking lot like he might want to hear that sort of emotion from the alpha even if it meant constant near death experiences.

Had Derek really been that worried about him? Did not just his werewolf penis but the rest of the alpha's body love him too? Because that would have just made everything- even the loss of brain cells and the bitch of a headache he'd have tomorrow- worth it.

Derek totally loved him. How couldn't he love Stiles? He was the perfect werewolf spouse, a total freaking catch and he didn't just roll over like everybody did in the alpha's presence. Stiles gave him a challenge and he made Derek's life interesting not to mention that he was a hell of good bang. Because he was a fast learner and had the potential for a career in werewolf stripping and prostitution and such.

Of course the alpha was all loved up. And that was what Stiles would stubbornly believe until his head stopped throbbing like someone was repeatedly hitting it with a hammer.

"I know," he murmured lowly, his head still lolling uselessly as the alpha moved through the woods. "Jesus can't I shut my eyes for a couple minutes?"

The question was clearly rhetorical but clearly Derek laughed in the face of anything rhetoric. Or tore it to pieces with his big, werewolf claws. "No you can't," he said shortly the warm press of his fingers digging into Stiles' flesh and heating him up like he really was a turkey in an oven.

He noticed they were suddenly alone and tried to move his neck to scan the woodsy, woodness of the woods the alpha was powering through like a machine. Trees, trees and more trees. It wasn't exactly the most enlightening vision of the evening.

"Where's the lovebirds?" he asked feebly, as his eyes fluttered closed again.

"Stiles," Derek growled out in warning and he reopened them with a tired sigh. The alpha didn't answer until he was satisfied that he wouldn't fall asleep. Bossy alpha. Stiles really needed to start training him already.

"They doubled back to meet the rest of hunters and werewolves," he explained.

Stiles didn't really have enough energy to care about the carnage they'd left behind to clean up in the woods. It was like silence of the wolves in there. Definitely not pretty.

And then the alpha's face swam into view, blurry, still anxious and the only thing burning through the darkness around them, brighter than everything else. Stiles' breathing felt heavier just looking at him and his chest tightened because, God he was just too much.

He didn't think he could keep looking at him. How could anybody just make everything feel so right with a brief glance, a touch, a constipated non feelings look? Jesus. He could feel it. He could feel something overwhelming him. It was Derek. Everything was Derek.

But he was exhausted and heavily depleted of energy reserves and brain cells and he was just so freaking bone tired. Stiles blinked through the haze again so he could properly admire the Derek sexy just for a little longer.

A little longer. Just a little…

"I know your penis is in love with me," was the last thing he managed to say before it all became too much and the darkness swarmed over him like a second blindfold dragging him under.

Derek was running. His heart pounded within his chest as he felt the accompanying thudding beat of the unconscious human in his arms. The idiot human who didn't understand that it was entirely possible to be attacked by a psycho hunter or even an crazier human during school hours.

He also had no idea what Stiles was talking about. Normally he would just assume it was the head injuries talking but Stiles was already prone to saying whatever he wanted whenever he wanted. But Derek had to admit he'd never heard I know your penis is in love with me before. That definitely had to be a first.

He could smell all of the different scents of the werewolves and humans overlapping throughout the forest but as always Stiles' scent was the strongest. It didn't matter if the human was in his arms or a thousand miles away Derek had come to know this scent as if it were his own.

He probably shouldn't have though. He'd been trying. Of course he'd been trying to keep this as distant as possible. The last thing he wanted was to hurt Stiles, to hurt them both. But as always his instincts proved the strongest and did whatever his wolf wanted before his human side could think it through and know it was a bad idea, or regret it.

Stiles was both his blessing and his curse.

Because he wanted him. God, did he want him so much that it drove him into a wild frenzy- even without the impulse to mate breathing down his throat. He had wanted and like some sick monster he had taken without remorse. Without even considering what it would do to them. It was consensual, most of the time he just had to look at that face, into those deep brown eyes and Stiles arousal would slam into him destroying any control, any semblance of sanity and surging him forward. Into the human's arms.

Derek knew he was in trouble. Knew it from the way his emotions were starting to slip through the cracks and that Stiles was somehow learning how to read them. Understanding him like he'd never experienced before. Never had anyone know him before. Not like this. Stiles didn't push, not overtly at least but he made Derek want to talk anyway, to tell him everything about himself so that when he pulled Stiles against him in the middle of the night after yet another nightmare about her, he wouldn't feel the wall there separating them. Only his dreams had changed as of late. Somehow Stiles had wormed his way into them, his face twisted into an agonised scream as Kate tortured him.

It used to be different. The dream. The nightmare. Kate would torture him as he was forced to watch his home burn down, with his family inside it. Only recently it had morphed into something else, taken a different shape that had him wrenched out of sleep, heart thrumming within his chest, claws out with the desperate need to tear her apart. To tear himself apart for ever trusting her.

For ever... God he'd been so stupid. So young. So reckless.

But he'd do anything, he knew. Even if it was just a dream. To get to Stiles. Who Kate always, always found first in his nightmares, who cut into his human flesh just to watch him bleed, and in turn to make Derek bleed before she burnt down his house.

He'd very nearly gone to the Argent's house once, in the middle of the night, half naked and out of his mind before he'd realised there was an accompanying heart beat, Stiles, still inside his home that his panic had overlooked. He'd stood outside for several minutes. Breathing in the calm, sensing everything about the human sleeping, the tinge of exhaustion. He had been too eager with claiming him as his own. Too furious in his possession of Stiles' body to focus on the fragility that came with being human, how easily they could tire.

But Stiles was there in his bed, sleeping restlessly without him and Kate had not touched him. Not in this waking reality at least. And his fatigued body slept on unknowingly.

Derek had gotten enough control to back off eventually but the human was so drenched in the scent of their union that he stiffened in a fervent anticipation whenever the smell assaulted him. He knew that school had not been the best place to send him, with a pack of werewolves who could smell every second they'd been together but it was too late to regret anything.

He didn't care at the time. He'd wanted it very clear who had done all of those things to Stiles even if he wished for the parts that he hadn't done. His wolf had taken certain liberties before he'd even noticed, before he'd even considered that he was about to lose control, the telltale tightening around his cock and the swell of his knot inside Stiles, tight willing, God so very willing, heat.

It had been an error in his judgement. He'd thought he had better control than that but his wolf had taken over in the haze of lust and made a claim that he'd never ever even made before.

A claim of worship, reverence, a promise of things to come. He had only ever felt the presence of his knot in Beacon Hills in his lifetime, just brimming below the surface of his body in heated moments of solitude.

He knew why now. And he knew exactly why he'd recognised Stiles' scent the very second he'd stepped out of the car, Henry's shocked and nervous spikes of emotion drawing him from its protection so many days ago.

It had been there for years the smell, mixed in everything, latching onto every other part of his life so that whenever he found it in a stronger concentration like in Beacon Hills hospital or the high school or hell even the supermarket it rendered him completely helpless. He'd had to stand there frozen for several minutes until he regained himself again. Laura had even begun to tease him about it. Until he couldn't take it anymore.

Couldn't take the promise of that scent lingering in his lungs, caressing his skin and driving him insane with the mystery of it. Of that feeling it was just on the tip of his tongue, but still utterly, maddeningly unreachable.

So he'd left. He'd ran. And then Peter killed Laura.

He came back. Only briefly just to set everything right again, losing his mind when he'd found the same scent on Peter. He'd seen red, killing first before asking questions. And then he was the alpha and he still couldn't understand why the scent had touched, barely even registered against his uncle's fast healing skin and the blood of those he'd killed for vengeance.

It was mixed with another scent, a newly bitten werewolf and Derek couldn't fix as much as he'd wanted. It was too late to be fixed. And he couldn't approach the fresh werewolf because it would kill him. The scent would kill him.

The fresh was in close, unbearably close, contact with the unbelievably alluring scent that was slowly driving him insane.

So he'd left again. Only coming back when the Alpha Council had allocated him the territory to run.

And then there was the scent, in such high concentration that his mouth was watering, claws extending and throat straining with the need to whine desperately, triumphantly, that the smell had been located at last.

Mine.

But mine happened to be an angry, furiously so- flushed beyond what was sinful- heart racing a perfect beat, young man.

The youngest he'd ever looked at that way in his life before. The instincts took over ignoring the sickening similarities between his situation with Kate and easily embracing the scent that had eluded him for so long.

The scent that he had eluded for his own sake.

It had been stupid to leave it for so long. His instincts were impossibly strong and harder to fight. So many times he'd nearly just taken. Taken without even asking.

And the boundless, unbelievably sarcastic energy the human exuded completely overwhelmed him until he could no longer see anything else.

The Alpha Council had known about him, about the scent before Derek had even figured out who Stiles was, and they had known his self inflicted exile would no longer sustain him. And they'd taken the matter into their own hands. Henry's offer was impossible to refuse and he'd unwillingly returned to Beacon Hills as their new alpha. Only he'd gotten much more than he'd bargained for.

He finally reached Beacon Hills Hospital nearly slamming straight through the glass doors when they didn't open fast enough for his liking and then he was following a scent, an oddly familiar scent before he stopped in front of a dark, curly haired woman.

"Scott's mother," he guessed and she looked surprised and then her expression hardened when she spotted Stiles within his arms.

"Alpha Hale, what happened to…"

"Gerard," he spat feeling his claws extend without warning. "He's taken multiple blows to the head."

The woman nodded instantly leading him towards an available bed. "Most likely a concussion. How long has he been unconscious?"

"Less than five minutes," he barked struggling to keep his emotions in check. The panic was swarming all over him like a hive of angry bees.

And she nodded as if that was enough explanation needed. Derek was grateful that she didn't attempt to take Stiles out of his arms because he was so tightly wound he might have bitten her head off. She seemed to sense that and let him deposit his unconscious body onto the bed of his own volition.

And then she got straight to work.

He took a step back, out of her way and collapsed into the plastic chair next to the bed, dropping his head into his hands, guilt swirling within him. And then he just kept listening to the steady pulsing of Stiles' heart as it continued to beat, and his followed in time.

He couldn't look at his bruised and bloodied face any longer so he closed his eyes, sifting through the scents of blood and the crazy human and the rogue and Gerard. He dug his claws into the plastic to resist the instinct to reclaim his scent on the human, still sifting through the different smells covering Stiles skin until he found the one he wanted.

The purest scent of Stiles, his sweat tinged with the remnants of fear and the smell of them both. Together.

His jaw tightened and his teeth elongated as he resisted the urge to mark Stiles' neck again. It would all have to wait for now. It was too easy to be himself around the human and much easier to lose his control.

But for now he would wait. Until those intelligent eyes were gazing into his own again seeing deeper than anyone ever had before.

Deeper than Derek had ever let anyone see.

When Stiles woke up again it was like somebody had decided they would dance on his head repeatedly while he was sleeping and then pretend that they hadn't done it whilst blasting a boombox beside his skull. His head was aching, the pain throbbing in his temples, behind his eyes and he groaned moving to fling his arms out in an angry- shaking fist- manoeuvre at the universe.

Only one of his hands was currently out of commission because it was tightly wrapped around someone else's.

Slowly he opened his eyes, wincing when the sunlight blinded him, gaze falling on the literal crowd of people standing around him. Stiles swore in surprise because it felt like one of those nightmares where you wake up naked and everyone was around you looking at your junk and commenting on it. Or was he the only one who had dreams about that?

Anyway technically he was in a hospital gown so the commenting on his genitals part wasn't entirely off the table yet.

He recognised his dad hovering over him looking pleased and relieved that he was finally awake. And then he spotted Scott and to his surprise Allison, and then Jesus Jackson, Danny and even freaking Lydia.

This was going to be the worst hit to his self esteem in his entire lifetime. Dear God would they please not comment on his penis. This was worse than his usual nightmares. And then the hand holding his own squeezed gently, as if sensing his internal panic and Stiles turned his head to look at Derek perched in the seat beside him and looking like he hadn't slept a wink.

"Hey hotstuff," he grinned before remembering the others were there.

Jackson laughed and Scott groaned and he was pretty sure that he caught his dad rolling his eyes but everybody was smiling so he figured he was forgiven.

"Hey," Derek replied voice soft, extremely soft and eyes tender as he looked at him. God and the way he was looking at him. Stiles swallowed the lump in his throat and had to look away but not before catching Jackson's- I can sense every single thing you're putting out there Stilinski- expression.

He cleared his throat and tried to breathe normally.

"What happened?" he asked pulling the warmth of Derek's fingers against his thigh almost unconsciously. The alpha didn't let go.

"You passed out," his dad said. "After getting a hell of a beating."

Stiles rolled his eyes. Thank you for stating the obvious, dad. Jesus he could have at least pretended Stiles had put up a fight. "I meant with the hunters and Gerard…"

"Gerard's dead," Derek said his voice rumbling with the beginning of a growl. Stiles only stroked the skin of his knuckles patiently because he so did not want the alpha losing his cool in a hospital where he was stuck wearing nothing but a hospital gown and flowing nakedly in the breeze.

"There wasn't really much for them to do," Allison added helpfully. "By the time they'd arrived the rogue was already dead and Derek had taken you straight to the hospital. They just were stuck with the clean up."

Oh right. The clean up of all the bodies. Stiles must have pulled a bad memories face because the alpha squeezed his hand again and he had to resist the urge to flush and jump his bones in front of his friends and family.

Although clearly Derek and Jackson were well aware of that fact. Great. He ducked his head and tried to keep his thoughts out of the Derek sex gutter. "Uh- just curious but why are you actually here, Allison?" he asked. "Not that it's not awesome but won't your dad shoot Scott?"

"Nope," she said cheerfully with a grin yanking Scott forward by his hand who was smiling warmly but not as happily as the first time he'd told Stiles Allison had kissed him. Stiles couldn't resist smiling back even if his head ached and he wanted to overdose on painkillers. But Scott's expression seemed a little off for some reason.

"My dad saw how worried Scott was about me and my parents decided we could date but only if we were willing to take all of the comments and media attention that would come with it," she said.

"And then when Scott came into the clearing…"

Scott abruptly let go of her hand, shaking his head briefly before he left the room without any explanation. Stiles raised an eyebrow in surprise almost tempted to go after him but Allison gave him her Bambi eyes for apology and hurried after her boyfriend.

"The rogue is the one that bit him," Lydia offered helpfully in explanation. "It's nomadic so it must have been passing through when it killed that woman you guys went looking for in the woods. He's still dealing with it."

Stiles' eyes widened. It was shocking to think back then that the rogue had already been creating problems for them. And killing more women. She'd been homeless living out in the woods to get by but that clearly hadn't meant much to the rogue when it had snacked on her. Then Stiles had heard about the body over his dad's police radio and insisted that he and Scott go out searching for it like every normal, macabre obsessed bunch of teenagers.

Then he'd been bitten. And technically it was kind of Stiles' fault.

It hadn't been heat month so the rogue had only just eaten her- which was just as disturbing as werewolf rape- but the descriptions Scott had hesitantly offered after months of radio silence regarding the matter of what she'd looked like afterwards had not been pretty.

And to think the rogue was the one that turned Scott into a werewolf...

God. That was just unbelievable. And ironic. Irony was still making everybody it's bitch apparently.

Was it wrong to be glad that the rogue was dead? Stiles liked to think it wasn't so he was just going to celebrate for all eternity. Poor Scott. It had destroyed him being bitten, he still thought sometimes that it had ruined his life. Despite the werewolf cool factor. And to come face to face with the thing that had ruined his life was just…

"Whoa," he said eventually.

And his dad was looking at him with his Sheriff's face again and he figured that meant a- you could have died- lecture. Lydia seemed to sense in that all knowing way of hers that it was time to leave them alone. "We should go and check on them" she said reaching out to tug on Danny's wrist.

Jackson growled at her.

"Oh my God Jackson," she snapped. "Just cause we dated doesn't mean I'm going to steal your boyfriend!"

"Jackson," Danny said reproachfully and he backed off immediately still keeping hold of Danny's other hand in case Lydia tried to run off with him or something. Stiles smirked because jealous Jackson could be quite entertaining when you've been bashed over the head with multiple items and need someone else's pain to amuse you.

Jackson scowled but he let Lydia drag them all from the room.

"Stiles," his dad began as soon as they'd left. "You are in-"

"So much trouble," he finished. "Yeah I know, but it's not my fault Mattcreeper had a thing for Allison and kidnapped her too. Well it is because I brought her to Gerard's office but dad, he was a psycho and nobody else thought so but me. So I think I deserve a little slack here considering I think my IQ has been seriously lowered from all of those skull attacks."

The Sheriff sighed and touched his other free hand. "Okay," he conceded. "I'm just glad you're safe."

And then he sensed there was a need for some serious alpha alone time and left the room too awarding Stiles with the very obvious fact that his brain was still not functioning properly and the alpha's penis was in love with him.

Oh shit. Which he'd mentioned in his brain melted phase last night. He turned to look at Derek who was still stroking his thumb absentmindedly against the skin of his hand. "So when I said I know your penis is in love with me," he said. "What I really meant was that-"

"You knew my penis was in love with you," Derek guessed for him. "Was I supposed to understand what that meant?"

Stiles wasn't exactly sure how to broach the- Mattcreeper told me that you can only knot somebody you're in love with- topic so he just dived right into it. "It means I learnt some interesting things about werewolf knotting," he said giving Derek a- you jackass how did you not explain this to me- look.

The alpha had a moment of raw, naked panic on his face before his expression hardened and he tried to pull his hand away. Stiles, naturally kept his hand attached like they were freaking super glued together.

"Can you just…" Derek said. "Just not now, okay? Let me explain later."

Stiles frowned at him. "Fine."

And then before the alpha could make any more comments about his penis or his reluctance to talk about said penis, Stiles leaned over the bed slamming his mouth against Derek's in a total sneak attack. Because Stiles was clearly punishing him with his mouth. The alpha surged up towards him with just as much enthusiasm using his free hand to cradle the back of Stiles' injured skull as he pressed his mouth more forcefully against him, deepening the kiss.

Stiles could hear the heart rate monitor going crazy and groaned into Derek's mouth still holding his hand so very tightly as his head started to go a bit fuzzy. And then the alpha pulled away. Stiles made an irritated sound, wrapping his free hand around Derek's shirt to try and pull him closer but the alpha remained unmoved.

"You're still weak," Derek said. "Later."

Stiles was sure as hell going to hold him to that promise. There would be Derek sexy in the future so help him God. He slumped further down in the bed. "This better not be the moment where I turn around and you've jumped out the window or something."

Derek did that familiar eyebrow thing again and Stiles wanted to laugh and cry at the same time because oh God it hurt to look at him when he was that perfect. It was just so Derek, and seeing it felt like everything might be okay.

Unless of course a yeti or something decided that it wanted to kill him too. It wasn't completely impossible.

His grip tightened on the alpha for a moment. "Just don't go anywhere okay?"

Derek's eyes were soft when they stared into his own, and hell he was pretty sure he could see some affection in them, maybe a little bit of fondness like he'd decided it was too much effort to kill Stiles himself seeing as there were so many other available people to do it for him.

Which was just so romantic and all.

Derek didn't say anything for a while and Stiles kind of figured that was his answer. He didn't know what to feel about that. Because if the alpha didn't think that he could make those kind of promises then what the hell were they doing? Is that why he seemed so hesitant? Was he going to leave him?

Stiles hated the idea more than anything he'd ever hated in his life.

"I couldn't find you," Derek offered suddenly. "We were in the woods when Lydia called Scott and said you and Allison were both gone. And that Jackson could smell your blood."

The alpha's expression tightened and he looked away from him as if he couldn't bear to see Stiles' face as the memories washed over him. He said nothing, listening hungrily to the words coming out of Derek's mouth because he didn't think he'd get a chance like this again.

And it sort of might have felt like the alpha was going to dump him. Which sort of was the worst get well present ever. He swallowed the lump of pain within him blinking, wearily to get control of his emotions. Because the alpha was going to have to grow a pair and say the words or Stiles would never let him go.

"I sort of lost it," Derek admitted. "You were… and I had no idea where you were. I left the hunters and the werewolves but Scott followed me. I don't know how I found your scent but I did, I could sense you were in the woods."

Stiles liked to think it was because he was in love with him. But he doubted it. It was probably just some werewolf instinct mojo, nothing to write home about. Unfortunately.

"And then I could smell the rogue. I followed the direction of the scents but there was too much area to cover and not enough time. And then that damn whistle again-"

Stiles choked out a strangled laugh, smiling before he could stop himself. "I swear I wasn't the one that did it that time," he said. "Gerard wanted to lure you there faster."

Derek scowled. "Only he could have such a sick and twisted humour as you," he said.

What a compliment. Stiles frowned at him but technically he had no excuses- the dog whistle had been on his key chain- and he had intended to use it sometime in the near future. Only in really extreme circumstances though like when Derek maybe insulted his cooking skills or something. So maybe his idea of humour was a little sick and twisted.

Sue him.

"But I knew that it was your dog whistle and no matter what was waiting for me, you'd be there. And then I heard you scream-"

Stiles drew a sharp breath as Derek's body tensed in memory. That had not been fun. Not remotely fun. His shoulder still twinged as a reminder that old men should in no circumstances get anywhere near his arms. Or anywhere near the rest of him. For the sake of his own sanity.

"Yeah," he agreed letting go of the alpha's hand to rub briefly at his arm. The alpha chased his hand with his own, enveloping it in his warmth again. Stiles felt his heart beat stutter. God Derek was killing him here.

If he wanted to dump him already shouldn't he keep all the touching to a bare minimum?

"They've already done some tests," Derek explained mistaking his fidgeting for anxiousness to leave as opposed to the need to prevent the alpha from sacrificing his sex life to protect him.

Stiles figured that this dumping was for noble reasons and it's too dangerous reasons.

And I love you so much I can't watch you die reasons.

Stiles knew the feeling well.

"You can be discharged in a couple of hours."

Stiles watched his face suspiciously for any- I'm about the jump out the window and leave you here- signs from the alpha but Derek wouldn't meet his gaze. It was so over. He was about to be seriously dumped. The end was nigh.

"Great," he said ignoring the confused expression on Derek's face at his tone. "Just freaking great."

The Sheriff sent Derek home to sleep and to Stiles surprise he actually listened to him, leaving him all alone in the stupid hospital in a stupid hospital gown to fend for himself. His dad had left the room to grab coffee when Lydia returned suddenly, dragging Scott into the room by his ear.

"Ow, ow, God Lydia!" Scott whined and then she released him, giving Stiles a helpful wink before she left the room again. Dear God that woman was going to rule the world. No doubt whatsoever.

"So I heard about-" Stiles began hesistantly not sure of Scott's reaction.

"Yeah," was all he got as a reply. He nearly sighed. Clearly he was going to be doing all the work here.

"I'm sorry buddy," he said. "But at least now its dead."

Scott frowned rubbing at his ear distractedly. "Yeah but I'm still a werewolf."

Stiles wasn't sure how to get through to him here. Because it was a damn gift and Scott needed to see it like that already. And then suddenly Stiles was. "Just think, if you weren't you'd never be able to protect Allison and her dad would probably not let you anywhere near her."

Scott's eyes widened as the realisation hit him. He smiled slightly, patting Stiles' leg affectionately. "Thanks, Stiles."

They grinned at each other until his father came back into the room. "Oh son," The Sheriff said. "I almost forgot to tell you. They gave me my job back for all of my help with the hunters in catching the rogue and its master. So I can legally shoot all of the things trying to kill you now."

Oh goody. Stiles smiled but it felt a little forced without the warm pressure of Derek's hand within his own.

"That's great dad. Don't go shooting everything at once."

His father only shook his head at him, keeping his coffee well out of Stiles' reach.

The car trip back to Derek's den of dastardly deeds was the most awkward thing of his life. He couldn't look at the alpha because the bastard was going to tear his newly realised feelings in half and shatter all of his hopes and dreams by dumping him. And that didn't really make him feel like keeping up the conversation. Plus he couldn't really speak because he was pretty sure if he did he'd either start begging for Derek to admit his penis was in love with him or start yelling at him for even considering dumping his ass.

Because obviously Derek wasn't going to find anybody else and this kind of self imposed heart break was freaking ridiculous.

This was why he had a freaking dog whistle on his key chain, Jesus. Stupid alpha and his cactus tendencies. They pulled into the driveway soundlessly and Stiles was out of the car before Derek had turned off the engine storming into the house because he was seriously pissed.

How could the alpha even think about not staying with him? Did he want them both to suffer for all eternity? Jesus Derek was more self deprecating than he'd originally thought. The alpha caught up with him easily, barely placing the car keys on the kitchen table before Stiles was rounding on him.

"How could you not tell me about the knotting thing?" he demanded hearing the anger in his voice as his fists clenched. He wanted to hit something, and that something was looking more and more like Derek's face in each passing minute.

The alpha dropped his gaze guiltily as if he knew he was in big trouble. Hell yeah he was. Stiles was about to tear him a goddamn new one. "I-" Derek tried but Stiles was already on a roll and ignored him.

"I had to find out from a psychopath," he snapped. "Did you know that? So what does this even mean? Your wolf loves me but you don't? Your penis has a thing for my ass? What Derek? I mean, why won't you tell me any of this stuff? Am I really that untrustworthy?"

The alpha just stood there as Stiles paced about the room fuming. "And now what we can't even talk to each other anymore? Jesus how badly do you want to be rid of me? That's what you want right? For me to be gone and you to be alone and so angry."

His face was burning and he just felt so damn angry as well. It was like he was on fire. "You know I was going to kill him?" he demanded ignoring the surprised expression on Derek's face. "As soon as Matt mentioned hurting you, God I freaking lost it. I don't know what came over me."

"And for you to just want to walk away from this is just… you're so goddamn frustrating!" he yelled raising his arms in defeat. "But fine. You know what, fine. I'll go and get my stuff and then you get what you want," he snapped turning on his heel to leave the room.

"That's not what I want," he said quietly and Stiles froze.

"I didn't tell you because it was a mistake," he said and Stiles let out a growl of aggravation and went to stalk away but Derek reached out and seized his arm. And if he wanted to snap if off, he was going to goddamn do it thank you very much. Werewolf powers or not.

"I didn't expect my wolf to accept you so easily. I was trying to keep distance between us because this was all moving so fast and you're so young-"

"I'm not young!" Stiles shot back.

"Younger than me," Derek rectified looking sort of pissed off himself. "And when that happened I tried to pull myself away from you. I kept that- part of the sex back until-"

"I bit you," Stiles finished starting to understand why he hadn't seen any of Derek's werewolf knot during heat week- because Derek hadn't wanted him to. He remembered the alpha's surprise when he'd bitten him, the swell of his knot only appearing afterwards.

"You caught me by surprise," he admitted. "And I lost control of myself again."

Stiles resisted the urge to stamp his foot. "But I want you to lose control," he insisted. "I want you to stop pretending nothing touches you."

Derek abruptly let him go and Stiles turned back to face him. "I haven't been able to pretend… since I met you."

And Stiles wanted to punch him and kiss him for that. God was he trying to make this harder than it was? "What do you want from me?" he asked hearing the tiredness in his voice and the desperation. Sweet Jesus the desperation was palpable.

The alpha paused briefly, hesitating over something and looking so damn vulnerable that Stiles almost felt guilty for yelling. Almost. "I want you to answer one question. Just one and then if you want, you can leave. I won't stop you."

Stiles folded his arms hating how much worse it felt that Derek wouldn't try to stop him. But he figured he'd humour the asshole anyway. 'Fine," he said tightly ignoring the way his breath caught when Derek stepped closer.

"You didn't you let me heal you, in the woods," he said close enough to kiss, impossible to look away from. Stiles swallowed knowing that Derek was trying to gauge his reaction. He couldn't lie even if he tried. He was too close. Stiles could smell him and God it hurt. Just being this close hurt if it would be the last time.

"That wasn't a question," he said slowly. But he took a step back because he didn't trust himself to speak in the close proximity and Derek frowned at him, unmoving.

"You said it was yours?" Derek continued. "That I didn't get to take it."

Stiles shrugged looking everywhere but his eyes because those were the laser beams of death and he was not going to give away the fact that Derek's penis wasn't the only one in love here. Because that was clearly a secret he was going to take to his grave.

"So?" he said managing to sound petulant and indifferent at the same time. "I was out of my mind."

"Do you love me?" Derek asked. And holy shit that was the million dollar question. No warning, no thought about the consequences of such a question being asked. Fuck. Stiles froze and his eyes locked with the alpha's. And that pretty much spelt doom to all thought processes. Ever.

No. Nope. Noh. Nein. Nyet. Nie. Nej. Nee. Nem. Não. Nu. Nahi. Nullus. Nē.

"Yes."

Derek's eye's widened imperceptibly as if he hadn't expected that answer. But he didn't laugh or jump out a window or claw Stiles in half so he figured they were doing pretty good.

Although his heart was pumping so wildly that he was expecting it to detach from his chest like a rocket and launch itself into the universe. Stiles figured that was sort of what love did to you. Or maybe he really did have brain damage. Whatever.

Derek finally spoke.

"When we… in the woods," he said raising his eyebrows to reveal hidden sex in the woods subtext in his perfect way of enunciating things. "That wasn't because I lost control. It was because I love you too."

Oh. Huh. So there was a heart under all those prickles.

And there was no explosion. Derek did not self destruct. He did not run off howling into the night. He didn't even seem that nervous about the sudden declaration of love. He just stood there and stared at Stiles like he was the only thing that mattered in the universe.

And for once the universe seemed to agree. Finally. Stiles actually sagged a little. "Well that's a freaking relief," he said, "because all I had to take with me was a duffel bag full of socks."

Derek smiled like a real actual, genuine- I am not a robot- smile. "I know," he said as he took a step towards him again and Stiles moved eagerly into his embrace, wrapping his arms around Derek's neck and dragging his fingers through the alpha's hair.

"Does that mean you'll stay?" Derek asked pushing his face into Stiles neck.

And then he just inhaled like Stiles was the most wonderful aroma in the world and he couldn't get enough no matter how many times he mauled his neck. Stiles swallowed. Hard. Because apparently the feelings had taken over them both and unbelievably nobody had died.

Well nobody not completely evil and cuckoo crazy.

So they were doing okay.

And then Stiles was nodding, and Derek's mouth was covering his own and he was doing more than okay.

So much more than freaking okay.

Epilogue

Derek groaned struggling to pull away from Stiles' current ministrations on his cock. Stiles frowned, mouthing wetly as his lips encircled Derek in the heat of his mouth and pushed on the alpha's back holding him in place as Derek tipped his head back in enjoyment.

But he kept struggling against Stiles' mouth, pulling away before thrusting back in and Stiles rolled his eyes as he cupped Derek's balls gently, swiping his thumb against the flesh of it as the alpha made an unusual, needy sound.

Stiles loved it. He loved every sound Derek made and this had been the best idea to ever come into his brain like ever. Although if Derek would stop twitching like he was the one with ADHD everything would have gone a lot smoother. The alpha reached for him again and Stiles released his werewolf cock with a wet pop, swatting at his hands.

"Dude," he complained only a little annoyed. "You promised."

They'd been working on the foreplay thing for several days now. Only every time they got anywhere interesting Derek was pulling Stiles towards him, lubricated fingers reaching desperately for his ass.

And then the sexy time. Every time. They were so impatient it was ridiculous. And sure not that the sex wasn't awesome and whatnot but their degree of foreplay was embarrassing. Stiles was certain they were offending the sex Gods or something. It was a problem that needed to be fixed like pronto. Which was what Stiles was currently working on though the alpha wasn't playing fair again. Derek tensed and managed a desperate nod before falling back against the pillows and shutting his eyes and Stiles couldn't believe how whipped the alpha was on him.

Grinning, he took Derek back into his mouth again fingers gripping his thighs tightly to keep him still as the alpha moaned at the sensation. He happened to enjoy making Derek moan very much. Like very much as in he could probably do it all day if the situation would allow it.

His mouth dragged wetly over the tip of Derek's cock, sinking down the sensitive skin and licking along the vein as he slowly deep throated him. The alpha made a strangled sound of appreciation seizing one of Stiles hands to prevent him from moving straight to the dessert course of the evening. Because he was a freaking greedy alpha with impulse issues.

Stiles was pretty impressed and very proud that Derek was at least attempting the foreplay thing. The sounds he was making seemed to tell Stiles that he liked it. But he was gripping Stiles hand pretty tightly and he figured he'd better speed this up for both their sakes. Or Derek might break the bed. Again.

He palmed himself roughly through his boxers groaning around Derek's cock and the alpha made a choked noise as he stiffened. And then Stiles realized what had happened, deciding quickly to exert this new found information for very happy endings, using his free hand to move back to rub Derek's family jewels.

And then he hummed, the vibration travelling all the way up Derek's cock as he looked up at him through his lashes. The alpha came with a shout jerking shallowly into Stiles' mouth when he didn't pull away, swallowing down everything Derek offered.

The alpha groaned again pulling Stiles off his now sensitive cock, whining when Stiles sucked in revenge.

"There we go," he said as Derek pulled him onto his chest, his cock still half hard and ready for the sexy time. He was already reaching for Stiles' boxers. "That's foreplay. And damn ours still needs work."

The alpha rolled his eyes. "Later" he growled as he dragged Stiles over his hips and he leaned forward with a smirk mouthing at one of the alpha's nipples.

"Stiles," he half growled half whined.

"You love me," Stiles said grinning. "You love me so much that your werewolf penis is going to swell to the size of a golf ball."

Derek snorted pulling Stiles mouth away from his sensitive nipples. "Don't be so dramatic. It's not that big."

Stiles leant forward mouthing at his neck in punishment, biting down to bruise as Derek jerked upwards with a moan that sent a thrill through him. "When you've had a knot in your ass you can call it whatever the hell you want," Stiles said. "But until then, my ass my rules buddy."

Derek sighed, rolling his eyes before ripping off Stiles' boxers, tearing them into shreds.

"Why?" he cried dramatically. "Those boxers were my most prized possession you evil, clothes destroyer!"

"Are you ever not sarcastic?" Derek teased already reaching for the lube on the bedside table.

Stiles wiggled his hips playfully, gasping when he felt the newly hard werewolf cock beneath him. He flexed his leg muscles in preparation gazing down at Derek and feeling as though his chest might burst from the feelings.

The love feelings. Then Derek stared back, his face so expressive and just so damn freaking amazing as he looked into him with his laser eyes. The very mutual love feelings. Because Stiles life was perfect and awesome and he had a sexy alpha husband who was going to help him rule the world starting with dominating foreplay before sexy time. They would become ultimate foreplay masters. Together they were clearly unstoppable.

"Nope," he said cheerfully already reaching down for Derek, for every scrape of skin, every slide of hot flesh as they fell into each other.

Again and again.

"Sarcasm is my only defence."