Warning: Contains dub-con that actually leans a lot more toward non-con

It all starts during Stiles and Scott's senior year of high school.

It might have started earlier, but what with the Alpha pack, Jackson's new role as a werewolf, and just the general unpleasantness of dealing with Peter on a daily basis once again, there really wasn't any time to focus on anything else. Lacrosse took a sharp nosedive for everyone in the pack that was on the team, because when it came down to a choice between not failing school and playing lacrosse, well...let's just say Coach Finstock was not exactly a happy man that season.

But when Senior year rolls around, everything sort of mellows out. Nothing threatens their lives, everyone's finally got control of their wolves, Peter is...well, he's still Peter, but he's picked up a few hobbies around town so he's not around as much.

It's actually kind of boring. And a little bit lonely.

So Derek decides one day that he'll go to a lacrosse game. He doesn't understand the sport at all, and is interested in it even less, but it's something to do, and the pull to be near his pack is strong. He doesn't have to let them know he's there. He'll hide behind the bleachers, play on his phone if he gets too bored. That's what he tells himself anyway.

That's not what happens.

As it turns out, it's difficult to see when you hide behind the bleachers, even for werewolves. So he creeps ever so slightly closer, bit by bit, until he's sitting on the very bottom step, perched on the edge like he's going to bolt any minute. It makes him nervous being in a crowd this large, but his pack's presence is a comfort, even if they might not actually realize he's here.

His eyes sweep the field, looking for Scott, Jackson, Isaac...he finds them all. And then his eyes fall on someone else. Someone he hadn't expected because, last he heard, he'd taken up permanent residence on the bench.

Stiles.

Of course, that was a while ago that he'd heard of his benchwarming status. He'd been practicing lately; his coach would have to be blind not to recognize all the hard work he's put into improving his physical prowess. Derek finds his eyes drawn to the young teen the entire game. It's almost hard to believe it's really him under all that equipment. He moves with more grace than he's ever seen the other boy exhibit, faster than he knew he was capable of. He's focused like Derek thought was impossible for Stiles, his heartbeat steady yet quick as he scores goal after goal.

After that, Derek can't get the image out of his head. He carefully hides behind a mask of stoicism whenever Stiles is around, but inside it's all he can do not to stare at him longingly. He starts noticing little things, like the way Stiles is finally starting to grow into himself, blossoming out of his awkward stage and filling out in all the right places. Once, he catches him wearing that blue and orange striped polo, the one he was forced to wear when posing as his cousin. It's too small on Stiles now, and stretches over his more defined abs. It's all Derek can do not to rip it off him to reveal the prize underneath.

Stiles spends a lot of time with the pack now. Derek sees the way that Stiles looks at him when he thinks he isn't looking, the way his heart races just the slightest bit faster when they talk. Which, okay, could be attributed to the fact that most of their talks include threats from Derek, but still, it's something.

Derek can admit to himself that he wants Stiles, but he's not so depraved as to proposition an underage boy. He'll wait. He'll do this right.

What Derek does not take into account, however, is that he's not the only one who wants him.

The news that Stiles has a date hits him like a slap to the face. He sulks a bit in the corner even as he tries to convince himself it doesn't matter. Stiles is in high school, of course he'll go on dates. It doesn't mean anything.

It doesn't stop him from following him, though.

He knows it's a bad idea, deep down inside he knows he should not be here, hidden behind a tree at the self-imposed "makeout point." He's not sure what he's expecting exactly, but it doesn't stop his heart from squeezing painfully when their voices fade, only to be replaced by the sound of moaning, and wet, inexperienced kisses. At some point, he slips away to howl mournfully into the empty night. The others don't say a word.

Her name is Cindy. She's cute and blonde and on the honor roll, apparently. Derek hates her immediately. She takes up most of Stiles' time. He doesn't come around anymore, and if he does, she's always with him. Derek turns to lifting weights to take out his aggression, but when most of them end up imbedded in the wall, the pack quickly puts a stop to that.

He knows he has to stop, has to move on and forget about Stiles, but for some reason he can't. He tries going out on a few dates with girls in bars, but they just remind him too much of Kate. Guys remind him too much of Stiles, and while he might be able to pretend with his eyes, every other cell in him knows the truth.

Then, Stiles' 18th birthday comes around.

They haven't really spoken in a while, but Derek still sort of considers Stiles a friend. He buys him a CD from a band he's almost certain Stiles likes. He doesn't have anything to wrap it in, so he just takes it over to the Stilinski house without it. Stiles greets him with a smile, so warm it almost melts Derek's heart.

"Hey, great! Presents!" He says he loves the CD, but Derek recognizes the familiar skip in his heartbeat that betrays his lie. Stiles invites him inside, and against his better judgment Derek accepts.

He asks how Cindy's doing, even though he doesn't care. It's too quiet; he wants to fill the silence with Stiles' voice, even if it is with him talking about her.

He tunes out for a moment, until he catches the words "taking a break." He whirls around to catch Stiles, still in good spirits, babbling on and on about school and practice and work. All things he suddenly doesn't care about.

His mouth is on the other's before he even realizes what he's doing.

Stiles flails backward, eyes wide, heart beating at a mile a minute. He looks more awkward and unsure than he has in months, and Derek's wolf silently howls in joy at that. He made Stiles look like that. He takes a step forward again, and this time meets absolutely no resistance when their mouths crash together.

Derek knows Sheriff Stilinski isn't home, and won't be for a while longer. He wants to take advantage of that, so he slowly backs Stiles toward the stairs. Stiles seems to realize what he's doing and pulls away rather abruptly.

"Uh...w-wait, I don't know if that's..." Derek growls impatiently and picks the other up to throw him over his shoulder. This will be faster. He can hear Stiles saying something as he carries him up to his room, but he has no idea what it is because his brain is all wolf now, all instinct finally telling him he doesn't have to hold himself back anymore.

He throws Stiles on the bed and crawls in on top of him. The teen nervously pushes at his chest as Derek begins to mark up his neck, but he barely registers the feeble attempts.

"Derek, this is moving way too fast. I...I don't even know if I like guys like that. Please, can't we just talk? Please?" Derek ignores him, pressing his palm into the crotch of Stiles' jeans. The arousal is thick in the air. He knows Stiles wants him just as much as he wants Stiles, and he's not going to wait around this time for another Cindy to come into the picture.

He quickly undresses the other boy and flips him over onto his stomach. His voice is muffled by the pillow his face is pressed into. He's so beautiful, Derek thinks, running his hand all over the pale skin, littered with dark moles. He's overcome with the need to take, to make his own. He steadies Stiles' hip with one hand and slowly pushes his aching arousal inside of him.

So tight, so tight, so incredibly tight. It's borderline painful as he pushes his hips slowly forward until he bottoms out. He waits a moment before he starts to thrust, cries escaping Stiles' mouth with every move of his hips. He covets each one as the treasure it is, the evidence of his pleasure. The teen's heart is racing faster than he's ever heard it, which spurns his wolf into moving faster.

Derek cums long before he means to, the combination of tightness and the scent of Stiles too much for him to hold back. He reaches down to help Stiles, only to find him completely soft. As he comes down from his orgasm, the copper scent of blood attacks his nose. He realizes that it's coming from Stiles, and when he pulls out, a red line trails its way down the other boy's leg, following by a white as Derek's semen leaks out of him.

Derek realizes that Stiles is sobbing into his pillow, and reaches out, but receives a sharp, "Don't!" when his hand comes close. Stiles turns on him, his face burning with white hot anger and shame. Tears are still leaking from his eyes, but they do nothing to mask the unabashed hatred. Hatred directed at Derek.

"Get the hell out," Stiles says, and Derek wants to protest, wants to tell Stiles how beautiful he is and how much he loves him. Instead, he stays silent, and tucks himself back into his pants. His cock is covered in an alarming amount of blood. He turns, wanting to apologize, but when met with such an expression on Stiles' face, he cows. All his courage flees, And Derek follows right behind it.