I don't own Teen Wolf.

Cut Out All The Ropes: Chapter 1

It wasn't like Stiles was the only one. There were all kinds of national news stories about it; Some man down in Texas had been the first one. Mind you, they didn't find out until after the man had died that he had a working uterus and ovary. But it was a pretty big deal that a man could get pregnant. And Stiles wasn't the only one in Beacon Hills, either. Tommy Taylor who lived over on Westwood had gotten pregnant three years ago and Stiles had always smirked when the toddler rode past him on the sidewalk.

And it wasn't like Stiles didn't know he could get pregnant. He was thirteen when the study was released that men could, in fact, get pregnant and it became a standard test for every sports physical given through the Beacon Hill Hospital. His dad hadn't said much about it; Steve Stilinski had simply nodded and said they'd take the precautions they needed once Stiles got a bit older.

He'd never wanted to be just another teen pregnancy statistic. And to be honest, He was under the impression that if he had to be another statistic that he'd have knocked up some girl. Stiles had never expected to be the one getting pregnant himself. But life wasn't fair for Stiles Stilinski. Never had been and he was pretty sure it never would be.

The fact that the neighbors hadn't called the cops the night of the party was probably a miracle. The Beacon Hills Hurricanes had won the State Championship game and Jackson's parents had let him have a big party to celebrate. Stiles had been having a rough day; He'd actually got to see some field time, but his dad hadn't been able to make it to the game. And Stiles had almost got a goal. Almost being the key word. Instead he'd been tackled, hard, losing the ball in the process. Luckily Scott was nearby and was able to get the ball back. His back was killing him; he couldn't really look but he was pretty sure there was a huge bruise back there.

Since his day hadn't been the greatest and Stiles was feeling pretty sorry for himself, he got trashed. Stiles wasn't normally a big drinker. He was pretty sure that had something to do with the fact that whenever his dad thought about his mother, he drank to drive the memories away. More than once Stiles had taken the bottle away from Steve and put him to bed. And while he normally hated watching his dad drink, that night Stiles finally understood why he did it.

He was swaying, a half empty bottle of whiskey in his hand, when Jackson finally found him. Stiles took another swig, narrowly missing knocking his front teeth out. "Jacks!" he yelled, grabbing onto Jackson's arms as the world started to tilt. "I feel funny…" Jackson sighed, slinging an arm over Stiles' shoulder.

"Come on, Stilinski," Jackson mumbled, pulling the Whiskey bottle away from Stiles. Stiles stumbled along next to Jackson, the spastic teen leaning heavily on the taller boy. "Please know I'm only doing this 'cause you're pack," he mumbled. Jackson nudged open his bedroom door, dropping Stiles gracelessly on his bed.

"No!" Stiles moaned. "I don't want to lay down! I want to drink some 'ore!"

"No, Stiles," Jackson said, pushing him back down onto the bed. "Here," he said, pushing a bottle of water in Stiles face. "Stay here. Drink the water. Eat some bread. And if you feel like you're going to puke, please, I'm begging of you, please try to hit the trash can. I'll come check on you later."

Stiles groaned, laying back with is eyes shut. He immediately sat straight up when the bed started spinning. "That's not good," he mumbled, taking a couple deep gulps of the water bottle. He let one foot hang out of the bed, touching the floor, to keep the bed from spinning. He threw his arm over his eyes and let out a whimper. Maybe drinking so much wasn't such a good idea.

Stiles only slightly glanced at the door when it swung open. The flash of dark was enough for him to know that it wasn't Jackson and his mind instantly went to Danny. He made grabby hands at the figure approaching the bed.

"'Anny…" he mumbled as the bed dipped. "Am I attractive ta gay guys?" Stiles burrowed further into the bed at the sound of the small chuckle as chapped lips pressed against his.

"I'm not Danny," the voice whispered against his lips.

"Mmmm?" Stiles whimpered, arching his back to get back to the kisses.

"It's Derek," the voice mumbled and Stiles gasped as calloused hands were ran down his stomach. He was sure he'd never been this horny in his life.

"Derek, mmm, I want, ah I want…" Stiles panted, gripping at Derek's shirt like a life line. Derek growled low in his throat, his lips at Stiles neck.

"What do you want?" Derek growled, pushing Stiles shirt up some more. "Tell me what you want."

"You," Stiles said, his voice cracking. Derek's hands fumbled with Stiles belt loop, hesitating before pulling them down.

"You want this?" Derek said and Stiles' breath hitched in his throat. "Say it, Stiles. Tell me you want this."

"Please," Stiles moaned. "I want this."

Derek yanked down Stiles pants and flipped the teen on to his front in one move. He grabbed one of Jackson's pillows and shoved it under Stiles' hips. He leaned forward and pulled open Jackson's bedside table draw and pulled out a tube of lube. He slicked his fingers and pushed one into Stiles.

"Ah!" the teen moaned, tensing up around Derek's finger. Derek stroked his hand down Stiles thigh and the boy slowly but surely relaxed. Derek pushed in another finger, and then another, leaving Stiles panting below him.

Stiles was drunk enough that it almost didn't hurt. That was ridiculous of course; this was his first time and Derek wasn't a little guy. But as the older boy started pushing into him, it almost didn't hurt. Stiles whimpered, trying to push back on Derek's dick, groaning when Derek's hands caught his hips.

"Please," Stiles moaned, his breath catching in his throat again as Derek pushed into him further.

"Stop tensing," Derek growled, one hand stroking Stiles' spine as the other held his hip. "Almost there," he groaned as he pushed almost all the way into Stiles.

"Thank God," Stiles moaned. And then something didn't feel right. The pressure grew, something incredibly thick pushing at his entrance. "I-what?"

"It's just the knot," Derek mumbled into Stiles ear and the teen focused on breathing. He had thought that was a myth; Werewolves had knots like dogs? Who would have guessed.

"Derek, no I…It's hurts! Ow, Derek…" Stiles could feel the tears welling in his eyes as Derek rubbed at the base of his spine.

"Too late for that now," Derek growled, finally pushing all the way into the boy below him. Stiles screamed, Derek turning his head to cut the sound off with a kiss. He could feel the wet tears running down Stiles face as he got into a rhythm. After a while Stiles began to relax, pushing back onto Derek, his breath coming in gasps as Derek hit a spot he never even know existed.

"This is so hot," Stiles moaned, his arm reaching back to pull Derek closer to him.

"Stop talking," Derek growled, his lips close to Stiles ear.

"Please," Stiles whimpered, clenching around Derek. "I need, please I need…" He brought his hand down around his own dick, stroking with a tight grip. Derek's hand came down on top of Stiles' and the teen moaned again, throwing his head back.

"Almost there," Derek moaned, taking in the sound of bare skin against bare skin. Stiles came first with a cry, falling slack against the pillows. All of his nerves tingled as Derek continued to slam into his overused body. After a tense moment Derek came with a groan, ribbons of cum shooting into Stiles.

They were both quiet while Derek waited for the knot to calm so he could release Stiles. The teen whimpered as Derek pulled out of him, his buzz wearing off enough for the boy to finally realize the pain. He hated the slick feeling as he slowly pulled up his pants.

"Derek…" Stiles trailed off, watching as Derek buckled his belt and slipped his jacket.

"Go to sleep, Stiles," Derek mumbled, slipping out of Jackson's room without another glance. Sometime around three in the morning Jackson slipped back into his bedroom, falling heavily on the other side of his King size bed. Stiles was simply staring up at the ceiling, breathing heavily.

"Why does my bed smell like sex, Stilinski?" The wolf said after a few moments of silence and Stiles whimpered, rolling over on his side. "And Derek? Why does my fucking bed smell like sex and Derek?"

"Please, Jackson," Stiles whispered. "I don't want to talk about it." Jackson sighed but nodded, even though he knew Stiles couldn't see it, turning his back to Stiles.

"Good night Stilinski," Jackson whispered.

"'Night, Jacks."

Stiles sat in the booth of the diner, waiting for his dad to get there for their Saturday morning breakfast. He surprisingly wasn't hung over, but he was pretty sure that being knotted by an alpha werewolf the night before would have something to do with completely killing his buzz and any symptoms thereafter. And the pain he felt when he sat down, really. He was nervously tapping his fingers on the table when the door above the door jingled. The teen glanced up, meeting Derek's eyes. Derek sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose before ducking into the booth across from Stiles.

"My…My dad will be here any minute," he whispered, not meeting Derek's eye.

"About last night," Derek said, sighing again. "I was in heat. It's a wolf thing. You don't always know when it's going to happen and you can't always control it. You were just there and convenient. It didn't mean anything."

"Oh. Um. Yeah, I didn't think it meant anything anyway. Glad I could help." Derek searched Stiles face and nodded, tapping on the table. Stiles gulped as Derek walked way, never looking back. His dad got there a while later and Stiles gave him a small smile, trying to seem normal. Steve took a bite out of his pancakes.

"Shane Johnson's pregnant," the Sheriff said after a moment and Stiles choked and glanced up with wide eyes.

"Yeah?" he said, chewing on his piece of bacon and not looking up to meet his dad's eyes.

"You know, he never got the test; Had no idea he even had the gene. But apparently his boyfriend's going to stick around, so that's a good thing I guess."

"Yeah, yeah that's good. I'm glad he's not going to be left alone."

"You're being careful, aren't you?" Steve asked after a few moments and Stiles glanced up with wide eyes.

"Excuse me?" he asked, letting his fork fall back on his plate.

"You have the gene, Stiles. You and I both know that. But you're being careful, right? I don't want you being some statistic."

"I, Dad…I'm not…"

"I know, Stiles," Steve said, and Stiles' eyebrows went even further into his hairline.

"I don't even know!" he exclaimed after a moment of silence. "I don't even know what I want or who I like, how do you know?"

"I'm just saying, I'll be happy for you no matter what. Just be careful, please." Stiles swallowed thickly but nodded.

"Yeah, I promise," Stiles said, kicking himself when it finally hit him that he had unprotected sex with a man the night before.

It had been about a month after the party when Stiles really started to feel weird. He was constantly hungry, but whenever he ate he normally ended up throwing it up. He was moody all the time and Jackson had even made him cry to other day. Scott had pointed out on several different occasions that Stiles smelled funny. He knew what it was; there was no denying it in his mind. He just had to get the proof.

Stiles went through the self-checkout at Wal-Mart, hoping no one would notice that the sheriff's son was buying a pregnancy test. In fact, he'd bought three. He sat on the floor in his bathroom, the little white stick waiting on the counter before him. He stared at his phone, waiting for the proper amount of time to pass. Finally he crawled over to the counter on his knees. He groaned when he saw the letters in the little circle.

"Pregnant," he whispered. He repeated the process twice more, each time the answer coming up the same.

"Fuck," Stiles moaned, letting his head fall in his hands. "Dad's going to kill me," he whispered. "Fuck, Derek's going to kill me…."

Stiles sat on the couch in the living room, the three tests and his two bottles of Adderall sitting on the coffee table in front of him. He was even giving up his back up stash. He let out a shaky breath as he heard his dad pull into the drive way and he wrung his hands out of nerves.

"I brought home dinner," Steve said from the kitchen, and Stiles could hear the sound of bags being opened. "I got Subway. I got you a foot long, but I had them cut it four times since I know you haven't been able to keep much down lately and this might keep better." Steve moved around in the kitchen some more, but Stiles didn't move. Finally Steve entered the room, holding two plates.

"Dad," Stiles whispered, looking up with wide eyes. Steve searched his son's face, his eyes glancing to the coffee table. He took in the pregnancy tests, his eyes going wide.

"Stiles…" he whispered, putting the plates down on the coffee table. "Oh buddy."

"I can't take these anymore," the teen whispered, pushing the pill bottles towards his dad. "It's not safe for the… for the…I'm sorry dad," he whimpered.

"Oh kid," Steve whispered, pulling his son close as the teen started to shake. "Oh G-,"

"Don't," Stiles begged, clinching his eyes shut. "Please don't call me that. Don't call me it, please. Only she can call me that." Steve sighed, running a hand up and down Stiles' back.

"Okay. Okay, buddy. What do you want to do?"

"I can't…I can't kill it. I can't abort it. I… And I can't give it up dad. I can't just give it to someone else. I…I want to keep it." The sheriff nodded, a sigh trapped between his lips.

"Okay. This is your choice, and I'll stand behind you through everything, okay? I love you Stiles."

"I love, you, too," Stiles whispered, his eyes still closed.

"Who…Who is the other father?" Steve asked and Stiles whimpered, curling in more on himself.

"Can…I haven't told him yet," Stiles whispered. "I don't want you to get mad. You'll get mad and I still have to tell him."

"Stiles, just tell me. I promise I won't do anything. Okay? Just tell me."

"D…D…Derek," Stiles stammered out, tears running down his face. "Derek's the other father…"

"As in 23 year old Derek Hale?" Steve asked and Stiles whimpered before nodding. "Stiles…"

"I know," Stiles whispered. "It was just a onetime thing and I'm sorry. I'm sorry I let you down."

"It's okay, Stiles. I still love you, and I'll never stop loving you, okay? I'll be there every step of the way, okay?"

"I love you, Dad," Stiles whispered, falling asleep up against his dad, there sandwiches long forgotten.

Derek had gotten a small studio apartment above the pharmacy in town. His inheritance from the fire was helping rebuild his old home and he was just finding someplace to go for the time being. He heard Stiles pull up even before he saw him. He could hear the teen's hesitant steps as he climbed up to Derek's door. Derek could smell the nerves coming off of Stiles and there was a little bit of something else that Derek couldn't place. Finally there was a timid knock on his door.

"What?" he asked when he swung the door open. Stiles bit his lip, looking even more pale if that was even possible.

"Can…Can we talk?" Stiles asked, hugging his arms close to his chest. Derek sighed but stood back, letting the boy walk inside.

"So you know a couple years ago when that guy in Texas got pregnant?" Stiles asked, and Derek raised a brow at him. Well after they got the test all formed they made you take it when you got physicals. And so I had to have it before I could play lacrosse and it turns out I have the gene. The…The male pregnancy gene. And I never started taking birth control or anything because I didn't think I was gay. But…But then we slept together, and I know you didn't use a condom, and…"

"Oh god," Derek mumbled, sitting down on the edge of the couch.

"Derek, I'm pregnant," Stiles whispered. "And it's yours." Derek was quiet for a long time before looking up at Stiles.

"Just know-I'll support this baby. I'll help you with it and I'll claim it and I want to be a part of its life. But you-you're nothing to me, okay? You mean nothing to me other than the fact you're carrying my child. This doesn't change things between us, you understand me?"

Stiles took a shuttering breath, lowering his head so Derek couldn't see his tears. Derek sighed, looking away as the smell of salt entered his brain. Finally Stiles let out a breath and rose to his feet.

"Got it," the teen whispered. "I'll let you know when doctor appointments are. Just in case you're interested or whatever. I'm just going to go now. I'm kind of tired….Bye Derek…"

Derek watched the teen slowly walk down the stairs of his apartment, his grip on the railing tight as his shoulders shook. Derek sighed, slamming the door. It wasn't because he was mad at Stiles; it was more that he was mad at himself. And his wolf was mad, too. Because as far as the wolf was concerned, that was his mate and he just let his mate who was carrying his pup walk away crying. But in Derek's very human mind, he was doing Stiles a favor. Because anyone who got attached to Derek got hurt. Simple as that.

AN: I hope you liked it, please review