AN: So, I haven't really felt like writing much lately, but I wanted to at least try to post something for the finale, if not one more for the D&S Fest. Sadly, I didn't do as much I wanted, but I did participate, which is more than I expected of myself. I tried to think of something original. Hopefully, I've succeeded in doing that and also pleasing you.

Marked

Stiles undid the tape that held the gauze in place.

Surveying what laid beneath, he smiled at his reflection in the bathroom mirror. It came out good.

Hearing the familiar rumble of a familiar American muscle car pulling up, Stiles yanked down his shirt and grinned.

…

Derek was absolutely thrilled to be back in Beacon Hills. He had missed Stiles for the past two weeks too much.

Derek had to go back to New York to take care of his and his sister's stuff up there, so that he could make arrangements for him to find a permanent, suitable place for him to stay in Beacon Hills.

Stiles hadn't exactly been happy with him leaving him there, but Derek felt it best for Stiles to not piss off his dad with being gone for two weeks. Especially with the formerly alleged murderer who was now dating his son.

Derek unlocked the door and walked in; Stiles had thought it best for Derek to start using doors instead of windows, so as to gradually get his dad used to the idea of them dating.

Derek opened Stiles' door.

He found Stiles laying down in his bed, but he knew the teen wasn't asleep, heart rate was faster than it would be if he was awake normally.

"What are you doing?" Derek asked, suspicious.

"Waiting for my boyfriend." Stiles said. He grinned, but continued the majority of his facade: head on arm, eyes closed, and face-down.

"So why is your heart racing?" Derek felt something very different here. He felt that Stiles was being secretive. He tried to process it all, barely noticing a faintly familiar smell.

"I've been left here in Hell for two weeks, with no super sexy, hot boyfriend. Said boyfriend just walked in my door, the best, hottest damn thing to ever do so. Period. Why wouldn't my heart be racing?" Stiles had rolled over at this point, propped at an angle by his forearms.

"What's that-"

"Questions later. Kissing first." Stiles interrupted.

Derek shrugged his jacket off. There was no way he was gonna pass that up.

As he crawled between the legs of his younger half, Stiles pulled ever so seductively by the collar until their lips collided. Stiles smirked against the lycan's lips before catching them in his own.

Derek craved Stiles. The way he smelled of his cinnamon body wash and the fruity smell of a shampoo that Stiles would swear up and down was totally not gay. Derek loved these less if compared to the oddly naive and innocent smelling scent of Stiles' pale flesh. The boy was most definitely neither.

Stiles hadn't forgotten what being with Derek was like, but he had definitely missed it. Derek ran so much warmer than him, and it always felt amazing being held by him. Derek's stubble always made Stiles want to giggle like a little girl. Unless he felt it elsewhere, because there it made him whimper like one instead.

Stiles started to undo the button on Derek's jeans, who stopped him with a calming hand.

"I thought this was just kissing," Derek said, teasing.

"You wish."

Derek peel off his shirt, definitely not the one to say no to a good thing. He returned to Stiles' embrace, resuming their hungry kissing.

Stiles slipped a hand into Derek's jeans, tugging, wanting, lusting after something he hasn't had for barely two weeks. Derek hissed and expired against his neck, he wanted to screw Stiles into next Sunday.

Stiles skin was unblemished now, the hickeys that Derek had drawn out all over his body their last sex session had faded into nonexistence within the last two weeks. Derek planned to remark his territory.

Derek pushed up Stiles shirt.

He immediately stopped.

Stiles had lost his grip on Derek's shaft when the man crouched down.

"What's wrong?" Stiles asked, dazed and confused. He totally forgot that they'd get to this part.

"What the hell is this?" Derek barked.

"What?"

"This." Derek surveyed the thing on his boyfriend's left hip.

The head of a wolf gazed at him. The ink was dark and freshly healed. The black wolf looked at Derek with glacial blue eyes, the orbs telling him to back off. Derek had figured out where he had smelled the scent from earlier from. It was the smell of tattoo ink, something he hadn't smelled since he first got his own when he was eighteen.

"Oh that. You like?" Stiles asked, happy to reveal his surprise tattoo.

"No. I don't." Derek glared at Stiles, the mood effectively killed.

"What? Why not?" Stiles panicked. He thought that Derek would think it was sexy. Derek's triskelion was always one of Stiles' favorite views of Derek's body. Stiles thought it'd be cool to have his own tattoo.

"Because. It's... I just don't like it."

"Well, that sucks for you because I plan on keeping it." Stiles stated defiantly.

Not if Derek had anything to say about it.

"No, you're not."

"My body, my choice."

"Look, Stiles. You are not keeping him."

Stiles looked at him, eyes squinted in disbelief.

"Him?"

"I meant it," Derek quickly amended, "You are not keeping it!"

"Give me one reason."

"I don't like it."

"Why don't you like it?"

"Because it's someone else's mark!"

"What?"

"That is someone else claiming you!" Derek said. He glared at the canine. The tattoo practically screamed that Stiles belonged to someone else. That wolf thing on his skin. It took Derek a little effort from not growling at it.

Stiles thought for a moment.

"So... you're jealous?"

"What? No, I'm not jealous. That's ridiculous."

"Really? Because you sound jealous."

"I am not jealous of him!"

"There's that 'him' again!" Stiles looked at Derek's defeated face. "You actually think the wolf is another person!"

"Well, it feels like it!"

"It is supposed to be somebody, obviously, you moron."

"... Who?"

Stiles looked Derek. The man really couldn't figure it out?

"You, duh."

Derek looked at him, confused.

"Look at the tattoo."

Derek observed the hateful creature inked on Stiles' hip.

"Let's look at the wolf. Notice how it's black?"

Derek nodded.

"That's the same color your hair is. Eyes? Same blue that you have when you wolf-mode. I even got the artist to capture your snarlyness. Not to mention..."

Derek looked at Stiles.

Stiles bit his lip.

"The fact that you're all over my body – all the time."

"..."

Derek resigned to the fact that it did indeed capture him for the most part.

"Why did you get it?" Derek had to know.

"Because I love you, for one. And because I figured it would be a much more permanent and symbolic way of saying I'm taken."
"You don't like the hickeys?"

"No! God, no, I love them. But I think you should probably lighten up on those. The dude who tattooed me thought I was being physically abused. I had to explain just how rough sex got with you."

Derek looked into his boyfriend's eyes. The tattoo definitely stopped him in his tracks. It would be nice to know that Stiles would always be his and that he'd have the tattoo to remind them both. Thinking, Derek guessed the marking was far more effective at claiming Stiles then being showered with love bites.

But it definitely wasn't as fun.

FIN

AAN: So, how was it? Personally, I think I fell under par with quality. As always, review honestly, but the more important part is the review!

One thing though, I set up a forum here, The Teen Wolf Fanfiction Forum, where I hope a lot of you will help me out with the Author Chats bit. Go over and talk publicly with some of the authors here, about how they write, what you'd like to see from them, things that you feel they could improve on. Start your own if you want the feedback. I'd love if you definitely chatted with me in my thread:

forumdotfanfictiondotnet/topic/96332/47581338/1/

You'll have to change each dot into a period.

Thanks for taking the time to at least consider it :) !