Alright, so I recently watched Teen Wolf and have become absolutely OBSESSED with Sterek! So I decided to write a Sterek fanfic since I could NOT get it out of my head and here it is. It's a lot more angsty and emotional than I thought it would be, but I still couldn't help writing it. They're just so PERFECT for each other, you know? Anyway, read and REVIEW PLEASE! I'm debating whether I should continue it or not because it could just end here, so let me know what you think. Should I continue it or not?

DISCLAIMER: I own nothing but the plot and the slashyness. Characters, etc. belong to MTv or Jeff Davis or something…

WARNING: Slash, m/m, Derek/Stiles, Sterek. Don't like, don't read.

The Power of Darkness

In which Derek meets Stiles during the full moon and loses control of himself due to Stiles' umm…intoxicating scent…

"Hello? Is anyone here?" called Stiles Stilinski, stepping out of his battered Jeep and peering at the ruins of the house before him, barely visible in the dark of night.

"Derek? Dereeeeeeeeeek? Are you here?"

Getting no answer, Stiles shrugged and climbed the stairs to the front of the house, talking all the while.

"Hey, Derek! Here, wolfie, wolfie wolf! I need your help. Actually, Scott does. He's still not sure he can control himself during the full moon tonight, and he didn't want to take any chances. I told him he'd be fine…I mean he has Allison after all, but you know Scott. He's freaking out and wanted me to ask you what the best way is to restrain a werewolf…"

The front door swung silently open at his touch and Stiles walked in, voice trailing off, trying not to feel nervous, pretending the alpha wolf didn't still scare him, even if just a little.

He heard a sound coming from the left and ducked sideways to investigate, noting how the ruined house didn't look quite so bad in the patchy moonlight.

"Hello? Anyone here? Derek? You here?" he said as he stepped into what had once been the living room, now a mess of broken furniture, ashes, and dust.

"What are you doing here, Stiles?" said Derek from behind him and Stiles swung around, barely stifling a startled yelp.

"Geez, you almost gave me a heart attack!" he said.

But Derek stepped suddenly back with a small gasp, averting his face and looking as though he was trying not to breathe. "Oh god," he groaned. "Get out of here!"

"Oh, real nice. Is this the way you treat all your guests? No wonder no one comes to visit you," Stiles replied, stepping forward.

"Stiles, stop! Stay back!" said Derek in something close to panic, backing into a corner with his arm across his nose.

"Why? You're not gonna go all wolfy on me, are you Mr. Sourwolf? I mean, I thought you were the big bad Alpha now, all in control and everything," said Stiles, walking closer with a teasingly sarcastic smirk. "You know, I think I kinda like this. You helplessly cowering with me standing over you, for once. We should do this more often."

"You idiot! Get out of here!" said Derek, hunkering down into the corner, trembling.

"Oh, come on, now Derek. We both know that you wouldn't hurt me. I mean, I saved your life, like twice already, remember? Derek? Derek?!"

As the rays of the full moon shone suddenly through the window and onto Derek's huddled form, he stiffened and raised his head, eyes blazing red and fangs bared in a soundless snarl.

"Whoa, now, Mister! Calm down. Geez, what's with you? Tryna scare me, ehh? Well, it won't work. I know you can control yourself even during the full moon."

"N-not when you're around," growled Derek through gritted teeth. "Your smell…it-it's intoxicating."

"Excuse me?" said Stiles, raising an arm and sniffing himself. "I just showered this morning…or was that yesterday…? Anyway, I do not smell."

"Stiles, just shut up and get the hell out of here before I end up doing something we both regret," growled Derek.

"Oh, yeah? Like what?" said Stiles tauntingly now, gaining courage by the fact that Derek was still able to talk and so was obviously still in control. He didn't quite know why, but he extracted an almost visceral pleasure from baiting the hulky werewolf in this way, testing and pushing at the boundaries Derek had drawn so closely about himself.

As Stiles stepped forward, Derek's nostrils flared wide and he shuddered, a long, drawn-out, bone-deep shudder that went from the tips of his toes to the roots of his hair.

"Like this," he muttered in a guttural whisper before he lunged forward suddenly, grabbing Stiles and crashing to the ground, their lips meeting in a scorching kiss.

"WHA-mmmmm" said Stiles as Derek's mouth collided with his own, heat and passion radiating off of him in near-smothering waves. At first, he resisted, trying to push the werewolf off him, but then that burning hot tongue licked at his lips, demanding entrance, even as the fangs receded into their more human shape.

With a sigh, Stiles surrendered, gripping Derek closer and opening his mouth, allowing Derek entry, realizing that this, this was exactly what he'd wanted ever since he'd set eyes on the hunky werewolf, that it was the reason why he taunted him so carelessly and pushed him so perilously close to the edge of oblivion.

They kissed, long and deep, hands roaming over one another's bodies hungrily, feeling whole in a way neither had ever felt before as their lips melted together, breath mingling, the only sound their muffled grunts in the still air.

The darkness around them seemed to become a living, breathing entity, feeding off their combined lust and need and channeling more into them, the moonlight bathing their bodies in cool, silvery light as their limbs entwined and lips locked.

Derek growled deep in his throat and turned over to lie on his back with Stiles on top of him, kissing deeply, passionately. His eyes still glowed red in the darkness, smoldering and irresistible.

Stiles moaned, feeling the pull of the darkness, the raw power and sensuality that was Derek, drawing at his soul, his center, the very core of his being and surrendered himself willingly to the power of that darkness, submerging himself in the heat and smell and feel and taste of Derek as their tongues dueled in a battle as old as time itself.

He felt himself responding as Derek fisted his hands in his hair, wrapping his own arms around Derek's muscled body, loving the feel of that barely leashed power moving beneath his fingertips. He felt as though they were both rushing towards a cliff, unable to stop, not even wanting to stop, clinging to each other with feverish passion that would burn them both if they weren't careful. He arched his back, moaning even louder as Derek's hands gripped his waist.

And then it was over as suddenly as it had started, the moon sliding behind the clouds at the same instant he realized just exactly what he was doing. Kissing Derek Hale?! And being ravished by him, no less?! What was he doing?!

Derek seemed to come to a similar realization at the same time and they both pulled hastily away from each other, straightening shirts and dusting off jeans, babbling excuses and apologies.

"I-I'm so sorry, I shouldn't have come here…" said Stiles at the same time that Derek said, "The full moon…it's been known to make even us more experienced werewolves act unpredictably at the best of times…yeah, it was just the moon…"

The distance was back in Derek's eyes, pushing away everyone from his heart, though his face was still flushed and his lips bright-red.

"Yeah, yeah, of course," said Stiles, trying not to feel the tiny sting of hurt in his heart and the voice that whispered so disappointedly, So it was just the full moon and nothing else? Nothing more? "I-I guess I'd better get going now, I'm sure Scott'll be able to handle it just fine," he said shakily.

"Yeah, that's probably for the best," said Derek, avoiding his eyes and turning away, chest rising and falling agitatedly.

Stiles turned to go, then paused on the threshold, biting his lip indecisively. It had just felt so right, after all, that he couldn't help it. The need, the want that had been awoken by the werewolf's lips against his still hungered inside him, demanding release.

"You should go," said Derek, broad chest and powerful shoulders silhouetted against the moonlight shining through the window, still facing away.

"Yeah…yeah, I was just leaving," said Stiles, turning and walking out the ruined door, feeling unwanted tears prickle at the corners of his eyes. And for what? he thought angrily, wiping the tears away. Something that never was, that you didn't even know you wanted until five minutes ago? Get over it. You've been pining after Lydia for so long and you've never cried over her. Why cry over a werewolf?

And yet, as he walked back to his Jeep, he felt the pull once again, tugging at his heart, felt the night air move and shift with the power of the darkness that was Derek, felt the onslaught of emotions that had sparked a wildfire in that ruin of a house for the span of a few brief minutes. Derek. Derek, Derek, Derek, beat his heart. Derek, the hunky muscular wolf with hurt and pain hidden deep inside his eyes, the wolf whose body had fit so well with his, whose lips had made him feel complete in a way no one ever had before. But it was over, this thing that had never existed, that had never happened.

He sighed heavily, wiping again at the tears that just refused to stop. Wrestling open the dented door of his Jeep with half-blind eyes, he got in and drove away, just in time to miss seeing Derek come running out of the house, words on his lips that could have kept it all alive if he'd been able to say them, if he'd been able to break the stone walls around his heart to tell that beautiful boy that he thought he might actually love him, that he hadn't been able to get him out of his head since the day they'd met in that forest. That that smartass grin and that scent that was detergent and deodorant and boy and just so Stiles had haunted him from the very first, that he yearned for his touch, for the feel of his lips again.

But he knew that the darkness within him, the wolf, the beast, the anger, and the hatred that had lived within his heart since the fire was far too much to ask anyone to deal with, let alone Stiles. Hyperactive, human, excitable, perfect Stiles. That the darkness would hurt him and crush him and he knew he could never bear to let such a thing happen, to see the bright light of those beautiful brown eyes dimmed even for a second. It was hopeless and still he felt the boy's presence in his heart, wrapping deeper around it, roots digging into the stone walls there and making them crumble and break for the first time in a long while and letting what little light there was back in.

Can something truly be over when it hasn't even begun?

REVIEW PLEASE! Let me know if you liked it, hated it (but don't be too mean, I have a delicate disposition LOL), and if you want me to continue it or not. Thanks for reading :)