Oh, You're My Bad Moon Rising

[triskeles_spark]

Stiles is leaning in the doorway of Derek's loft, still not entirely sold on coming inside, on actually doing this. Somehow, he'd thought that after his mystic-druid-magic summertime boot camp, he'd thought he'd end up working with Scott. They were bestfriends, after all, they'd been best friends almost literally forever, it oh made sense. Right? Right? No. Wrong. Instead, Stiles got grouchy wolf McSourpants, otherwise known as Derek. It wasn't even like they got along! And with Derek's love of bad decisions, didn't he need, you know, more advanced help? You wanted to pair your low level warrior with a high level caster, or vice-versa. Deaton had something about 'compatible energies' -- Stiles was pretty sure he just didn't want to have to be the one Derek was growling at.

Derek has to know he's here, probably smelled him as soon as he walked in the door. He sighs, giving up as he walks into the bottom of the loft, brown eyes scanning around, reaching out with his senses- the new ones- the way that Deaton taught him to and it comes easy now.

"Hey, Derek! I know you're here. Olly-olly-oxen-wolf. We, uh, we need to talk."

The gold flecks in his eyes gleamed by the low light and he stuffed his hands in his pockets. The rest of the pack was out -- even Isaac -- and that was weird. You know. If one ignored the fact that Scott and Isaac were the most obvious pretending-to-be-subtle couple in the universe. At least with Allison Scott hadn't pretended to be anything except absolutely, pitifully, embarrassingly in love with her.

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[feroces]

Stiles really couldn't have picked a worst time to show up in Derek's loft, and the obvious lack of other wolves should have made that apparent. Derek had to send them away for their own safety. And, really, it was completely ridiculous that Deaton was sending Stiles into this, since he was the Hales' adviser before, so he should have known Derek's cycle. He would have known how to deal with it. Stiles, most likely, did not.

The alpha wolf knew that Stiles was here before he even spoke, before he even walked through the door even. Derek had been upstairs in his bed, naked and writhing as he tried to ride out the impossible, aching heat that coursed through his body, making him want to mate with anything and everything. There were times that he wanted to give into those urges and possibly save his family line, but he didn't trust easily anymore... He didn't trust anyone fully, so he rode out his need to mate alone. It was torture, but it was safe.

Except now for Stiles, who just walked into the alpha wolf's den and became top candidate for breeding, whether he intended to or not. Derek twists his hands in the sheets, but it proves useless as he can't resist his body's damn urges.

So, the moment that Stiles speaks, Derek is immediately behind him, pulling one of his Batman appearing acts, though not as stealthy as usual because his breathing is ragged. Stiles will turn to find Derek still naked, his body shining with a thin layer of sweat, and his eyes a dark, bloody red compared to their usual brightness, almost clouded and not seeing everything before him.

"This isn't a good time," He finally chokes out, swallowing hard and willing himself not to touch Stiles. "You should leave."

Only, Derek was blocking the only exit right now.

[triskeles_spark]

Stiles gasps, jerking back in reflex at the sound of ragged breathing behind him. He turns to face Derek, and for that first half a second, doesn't register that he's naked.

"Woah, geez dude, I just need to talk to you about some- ohgodwhydon'tyouhavepantson?!"

His face flushes about immediately, and he gawks for a moment before he manages to shake himself out of it. Derek is shining with sweat, and that pulls his brows together, because he doesn't look good. It gets into his head that maybe Derek isn't wearing pants because there's something wrong, and he's not equipped to deal with this yet, and what is he supposed to do?

He reaches out, putting a hand to Derek's chest and a worried look on his face after that declaration. Because knowing Derek, not a good time probably actually means dying horribly. Seriously, what was it? It's the end of the summer and not only does school start again, but they've got the standard array of screwed up problems waiting for them too? It figures.

"Dude, no. I'm not gonna leave when something's wrong." He bites his bottom lip, worrying as his other hand jitters as he talks. "I mean, I'm still new to this but I can help. And if I can't we'll get Deaton."

He draws himself up so he's standing on the balls of his toes, trying to look a little more imposing. "So I'm not leaving. Deal with it." There's about half a breath before he's leaning closer. "Are you sick? Is that what's wrong? Some... werewolf-y fever thing?" There's a beat and then those full lips curve into a frown. "Is it lethal? Please say no. I've had a really great week and I don't want to ruin that with Derek Hale dying on my shoes."

His hand flops in the air for emphasis as his brow wrinkles.

[feroces]

Derek doesn't have it in him to answer all of Stiles' rambling questions. His body felt like it was on fire and being so close to another living person, another warm body and steady heartbeat is driving him crazy. It's like trying to resist a siren's song, only the song was a teenage boy just existing in the same room as him and smelling so damn good. Did he mention that Stiles smelled good right now? Because yeah, that scent wasn't helping Derek calm down.

And then Stiles wasn't listening to him, and puts his hand on Derek's chest. And the fire becomes a raging inferno, and Derek pushes Stiles away and steps back as well, trying to keep calm, even though it still feels like Stiles' palm is burning against his chest.

"Get out!" He tries to snarl, but it comes out almost like a whimper, and his breathing only gets heavier. His red eyes haven't looked away from Stiles since they touched, but it wasn't threatening. Despite the eyes, he's not looking threatening to Stiles... Well... The gaze and his half-hard cock might be threatening, but at least there are no claws or fangs out.

"Stiles," He pants, almost pleading. "For once just listen to me. I'm in rut. I need to mate... and you need to not be around here. I don't need you." That last part wasn't true, but he didn't want to hurt Stiles.

[triskeles_spark]

Maybe he smelled good because he was a Spark, maybe it was because as Deaton has mentioned, their energy being compatible. Stiles doesn't know why he's really here, doesn't know that Deaton is perfectly aware of Derek's cycle, and that he's throwing the two of them together on purpose. It's really a little sad for everyone involved.

Stiles gasps as Derek pushes him back, stepping back, and those brown eyes look confused as he looks at him, a tilt of his head. That demand sounds almost pained, and Stiles wants to fix it. He wants to figure out what's wrong with him and make him better. It's almost obscene the way their eyes are connected, red on brown, unflinching. There's no claws, no fangs, but that gaze (and Derek's half-hard cock that Stiles can't help stealing glances at) have their own sort of threat.

"You need to mate? What do you... Oh. Oh. Mate, like... you can't mean it like that. Ohgod, you do mean it like that." His eyes are wide and he backs away a few stumbling steps, moving more into Derek's home. Of course, with how he was blocking the exit, Stiles didn't have much choice.

"Why would Deaton make me come see you when you're trying to make little werewolf babies?" Not that he thinks Derek has an answer or anything, it's just one of those things that stumbles from his lips as his arms flail and he moves like he's half forgotten how walking works.

"Bu-but don't you need a girl wolf or something? Shouldn't you be out frolicking in the woods and rubbing against trees? How long does it, uh, last for, anyway?" He took another step backwards, because with their eyes locked like this, that primal part of his brain seemed to think he was prey, and he was being hunted.

[feroces]

It was a bad idea to step backwards Stiles, because Derek might not have seen him as prey, but that reaction triggers his hunting response and he steps forward, keeping them the same distance apart. He wasn't letting Stiles escape, and that's what he'd tried to warn Stiles about before the druid in training opened his mouth as usual instead of listening.

"How would he have known?" He snaps a bit ore harshly than he'd intended. It wasn't like Deaton was a great adviser to him or anything. At least not like he'd been for Talia or Laura. Derek was used to doing things alone, he didn't need a druid, whether it was Deaton or some dumb kid the guy thought he needed.

Though, apparently Deaton kept a better watch over Derek than the alpha thought.

"And now, I don't need a girl wolf, Stiles. I need a mate. An alpha in rut is a lot more... potent," He didn't know how to put it, but if he successfully breeds with someone, the chance of bearing a child was incredibly high.

And Derek could tell every time that Stiles was looking down at his erection, and that was all the encouragement that Derek needed to give into the burning and close the distance between them, rubbing up against the clothed Spark, nuzzling into his neck and breathing in his scent.

"You need to get away from me," He whispers hotly, but it was obvious that wasn't want he wanted, and his hands were moving to Stiles' hips, holding him close.

[triskeles_spark]

Stiles blinked, his eyebrows pulling together with what might have been disbelief, his lips parted as he stared at Derek at that declaration. Alphas on their rut was apparently some sort of magic baby inducer, which meant that Stiles apparently made just as good a mate as some girl wolf, which was a kind of scary thought. Because Stiles couldn't stop looking at him, especially that length and it made his face flush. He'd always been attracted to him, even if he hid it behind banter. It was easier.

It didn't change the fact that when Derek closed the distance between them, his naked body rubbing against Stiles' slender frame, that the Spark melted against the Alpha. Derek was nuzzling into his neck and despite absolutely terrifying words like breeding and babies, Stiles couldn't bring himself to pull away. If anything he was melting into it, his head tipping back in thoughtless response to how Derek nuzzles at his neck.

"I can't," Stiles breathed softly as his hands slid up to curl around Derek's shoulders. The worst decision he'd probably ever made, but Derek was naked and pressed against him. And he didn't know how to pull away when Derek so clearly wanted him.

[feroces]

Derek can smell it, the moment that Stiles' fear and worry mix with arousal. Granted, he'd could smell it every since Stiles' first glanced down at his cock, but now that he was pressed up against him, and the spark wasn't even trying push him away... Stiles lifting his head back to offer his neck to the alpha... Derek's body was singing because he knew he had him, even if his mind was trying to stay rational enough to not hurt him.

The alpha grabs Stiles' hips, pulling him hard against him as he starts to suck and nip at his adviser's neck. His hips are moving on their own accord, grinding against Stiles and hoping that he can somehow get by like this, like maybe if he just rubs against Stiles enough he could get off and not do what he was seriously thinking about right now. Though it was already obvious to him that he couldn't stop, that this wasn't going to be enough, and his body wasn't letting him use his common sense and back off.

"Stiles..." He breathes hotly against his spark's neck, his voice low and rough, laced with arousal. "Tell me to stop. Tell me you don't want this and to get off of you."

Maybe it would work, maybe his brain would listen if Stiles made it clear he didn't want this. Derek was in rut and so hard, but he wasn't a rapist. He wouldn't do this even in rut, right? "Didn't he- Ah! Didn't he teach you how to protect yourself or subdue werewolves? Anything?" Even a tranquilizer could maybe stop him from doing something he'd regret.

[triskeles_spark]

Stiles was not going to admit to being a tiny bit hurt when Derek told him to tell him to stop. He got it, of course he did; Derek didn't really want him. He was just... overwhelmed. In heat of all the ridiculous things, and Stiles wasn't the sort to take advantage of that. So he swallowed, and he did his best to sound convincing as he said what Derek needed him to.

"Derek, stop. I don't want this, please, don't do this."

Stiles tried his best, his voice wavering, but so did his heartbeat. He was lying through his teeth. He was conflicted, because there was that subject of pregnancy and Stiles knew that was bad, and of all the ways to have to explain to his father about magic and werewolves, being pregnant would be the absute worst. And Derek didn't even like him, and he couldn't imagine him being stuck with him because of one mistake -- he did, for the record, give Derek enough credit that he assumed he'd stay, be the best parent he knew how to be.

"I'm still learning," he murmured, leaning into the hot breath on his neck, a low gasp at the feeling of how their hips pressed together, marks already red on his neck. He shook, and his breath caught as he pressed his head into Derek's shoulder. There was this echoing feeling, like Derek's heat was leaking off his skin, making Stiles' head spin with the very scent of him. He wanted him.

[feroces]

"Dammit, Stiles!" Derek growls in frustration over how hollow and fake the boy's words were, how his heartbeat fluttered like the quivering in his voice. It was like Stiles wasn't even trying to lie to save his own ass, literally. "Don't you get what I'm going to do?"

It has nothing to do with whether or not Derek wanted Stiles or not, though, for the record, he did want the teen. Just not like this. This wasn't love, or affection, or anything even remotely caring for the boy. Right now, Derek's body was acting on instinct. He tears and shreds through Stiles' shirt, leaving it in ribbons on the floor. All the teen could be to him right now was a warm body, a tight hole, a candidate to breed and possibly bare his children. Stiles was lucky in that he was male, so that while pregnancy was possible from an alpha in rut, it wasn't likely for him, but still. This wasn't what Derek wanted for his emissary, his spark. This was rape.

The hands on Stiles' hips grip him harder, suddenly turning him around and bending him over the desk. A firm hand grips the back of Stiles' neck and holds him down, claws out but just barely pressing against his skin, not breaking it yet, but there to keep his mate compliant. He rips open Stiles' jeans, but doesn't pull them off, only pushing then down enough to expose his ass, letting the denim bunched at his knees keep him from escaping.

"I don't want to hurt you, Stiles... But this will hurt," Derek murmurs, sounding apologetic though his body is acting completely opposite of his words. He wedges his thick cock between the teen's cheeks, sliding it along and spreading his precum generously along it. It was the best he could do for Stiles now, his instincts driving him mad. "I'm sorry..." Only that doesn't sound as sincere, not when he's immediately forcing his shaft deep into the boy, managing to move slowly, but not stopping until he's impaled him to the hilt, forcing Stiles to take every inch with only the alpha's pre as lube.

[triskeles_spark]

Stiles really was trying here. But he wanted Derek. That was something he avoided, that he didn't talk about, had literally not even told Scott, but he did. The guy was in his dreams, the ones that had him waking up hard and whimpering and jerking off in his sheets just to be able to move. His logical brain could appreciate the threat here, but there was a part of him that was only registering how Derek was looking at him.

"Look, I'm trying, I don't know--"

And then his breath caught, words falling into silence as claws shred through his shirt -- which is going to make things so awkward in the morning. There's a whine as Derek bends him over, claws tight against his hip and the back of his neck. Claws tear open his jeans, which means he's going home wearing Derek's clothes tomorrow. Maybe he can have Scott bring him a change of clothes. There's no way this doesn't get messy, is there?

There's a shiver through him as cool air hits his bare ass, and he could struggle, but he's decided he's not going to. He wants him, maybe not like this, maybe in his dreams they're face to face, and Derek curls around his smaller body afterward, but there's still that spark of something needy in between them. And with Derek running on instinct, there's every chance that fighting will just make him less connected to his humanity, and they both need him to keep that.

He swallows, and he knows what he means, when he says he's going to hurt him. Derek can't prepare him with those claws, even if they had lube, and that cock pressing between his cheeks is not small.

"I want you," it's impulsive, and it slips from his lips after Derek says he's sorry, and if the situation was different, he'd think the Alpha had been abducted by aliens. He can't help the whine as Derek presses into him, and god, but there's a hot ache at first as Derek presses in, and Stiles' body stretches around the thick girth of his cock. Derek spreading him open lewdly as he slowly sinks in. It's everything Stiles can do just to keep himself from tensing.

He sucks in a few rattling breaths, and there's a low moan then he's talking again, because he thinks he remembered Deaton once saying that helped a little. And he doesn't want Derek getting caught up in the guilt, his forehead pressing to the cool eel of the desk as his body burns with the feeling of it.

"Wanted you since, like, ohgod- that first time me and Scott saw you in the forest. Y-you were all... you know. Tall dark and handsome, and I thought you hated me, but I couldn't help kinda liking when you'd push me and stuff. Literally had sex dreams about you for, like, months."