A/N: The prompt for this story was "Stockholm Syndrome."
"So when are you planning on letting me go?" Stiles asked, folding his arms across his chest, staring across the room at his current captor, Derek Hale.
"Until Scott shows up and gives me what I want," Derek snapped. "Now stop asking so many questions."
"No thanks." Stiles shook his head, shifting on the couch, using his constant stream of curiosity to keep his imprisonment on his own terms. "Why do you want Scott in your pack so bad?"
"You know that I could MAKE you shut up, right?" Derek stated.
"Of course you could, but really, would you do that?" Stiles smirked, shooting right back at him with a question. "Don't think ol' Scott would be too eager to come to the dark side if he knew you Vader-strangled his best friend."
"You're awfully ballsy for someone in your position," Derek mused, finding that he rather liked the feisty captive, despite the fact that if Derek wanted to hurt him, there was nothing this scrawny, teenage could do about it.
"You're awfully laid back for a kidnapper," Stiles shot back.
"I didn't kidnap you," Derek argued, rolling his eyes.
"Yes, you did," Stiles stated. "You took me away from somewhere safe and brought me somewhere not safe, in the process, removing my free will. Now you won't let me leave until you get something you want. That's kidnapping, and technically ransom."
"I didn't kidnap you!" Derek let out a hefty sigh. This kid was ballsy, but also kind of pain in the ass…but also kind of cute in that jail bait high school boy "I am invincible" way.
"Okay, then what would you call this?" Stiles asked, gesturing around the living room.
"I just borrowed you…for a little while," Derek stated.
"Okay, well if I'm not kidnapped, I can just go then." Stiles stood up, heading for the door of the decrepit old mansion, which probably had once been a thing of beauty…long before the fire, the ashes, the death that consumed it had taken over.
"Not so fast." In a fraction of a second, Derek was in the way, pushing Stiles against the wall.
"See?" Stiles breathed, looking into Derek's flashing red eyes as he held him down, not even bothering to try and hide the fact that his heart rate had greatly increased. Derek would be able to tell. "Not allowed to leave, even though I want to, ergo, kidnapping."
"But you don't really want to leave," Derek growled, still holding Stiles. "So it's not kidnapping."
"What do you mean I don't want to leave?" Stiles asked. "Of course I want to leave! I'm being held hostage by a werewolf, this is not my favorite past time, you know."
"Stop lying to me," Derek stated, leaning in forwards. "I can smell the desire all over you."
"Desire?" Stiles laughed. "What desire, there's no desire!" His heart rate picked up even more as Derek moved still closer to him, and he knew that his body was betraying him in practically every way possible.
"Why don't you shut up," Derek said, his voice a low whisper. "Because I'm getting sick of your lies."
"Why don't you make me," Stiles challenged. Derek growled, and Stiles flinched, but regrouped quickly, quirking an eyebrow, looking at his kidnapper expectantly. "Well?"
"You're so annoying," Derek mumbled, leaning in and kissing Stiles aggressively, pinning him against the wall as he did so.
"You're so evil," Stiles countered, half-heartedly trying to pull away from Derek.
"You want me. I can smell it on you."
"So what if I do?" Stiles asked. His lie was blown, there was no reason not to admit it now, not if he wanted to get out of this clean.
"Didn't you're dad ever tell you not to fall for your captor?" Derek asked.
"He did." Stiles smirked.
"So what, you're rebelling?" Derek asked.
"I don't think he had someone like you in mind when we had that conversation."
"Someone like me?"
"You know," he stated. "Strong, big, scruffy, sexy, brooding…kind of evil, but in a totally hot way."
"You have got to be one of the gutsiest kids I've ever met," Derek sighed, his grip on Stiles loosening, but only slightly.
"What, because I'd rather think about screw you than fear you?" Stiles asked.
"Yeah." A slight smile curled onto Derek's lips. "It might have something to do with that." He moved his hands down Stiles' sides, gripping his waist and pulling him upwards. Stiles responded, wrapping his legs around Derek's waist and leaning in to kiss him.
"Well now I guess we know how to pass the time until Scott brings you whatever it is you want." Stiles looked down at Derek when they broke away from the aggressive, but passionate kiss.
"Oh, yeah, that…that wasn't anything, I never even called him." Derek smirked. "I just wanted to get you here, alone."
"Mission phase one accomplished," Stiles whispered in Derek's ear.
"On to phase two?" Derek asked.
"To the bedroom!" Stiles pulled back, pointing upwards, and in seconds, Derek had Stiles splayed out on the mattress, looking more compliant than Derek had ever seen the teenager.
"I like you when you're like this," Derek stated.
"What, aroused?" Stiles asked.
"No." Derek shook his head. "Mine."
"Oh, no, no," Stiles shook his head. "I'm not yo-" He was cut off by Derek's hot kiss, and when it was over and Derek pulled away, he was too dazed to argue. He just reached up, grabbed the collar of Derek's shirt, and pulled him back down. Maybe, just this once, Stiles could belong to somebody else…only for a little while.