Okay, this was brought to my attention by a user on AO3, so I figured I would add warnings to this story as well because I can't add tags

Warning: There is blood play and pain play in this fic and if you are easily triggered by either of those, I would not advise reading through this story.

It's just after his eighteenth birthday when Stiles comes to him, hot and hard and practically begging. His hands are white-knuckled, gripping the steering wheel too tight and Derek doesn't have to be a werewolf to know what this is about.

Stiles stumbles out of the jeep, wiping his palms on his jeans and catching Derek's eye in the moonlight. He flails backwards, like he hadn't known Derek would be there the entire drive up, and Derek just smirks back at him, watches the way his pale skin catches in the light, watches the way he bites his lips until they are dark-pink.

"D-Derek. Fancy seeing you out here tonight." Stiles breathes, barely able to speak the words and Derek's eyes flash red because he knows.

"Stiles. What do you want?" He bites out because he has to be sure; he has to know that Stiles wants this, has to make sure he knows what he is doing.

"I. Well, you know, yesterday-" He stutters to a stop when Derek takes a step forward, unable to quell the predatory instinct curling around his gut. "I…I, uh. It was my birthday." Stiles finally mumbles, a red flush rising to the tips of his ears. He plasters himself against the jeep and Derek thinks he wouldn't mind fucking the boy senseless against it.

Derek watches the way those long fingers twitch in the dark, watches the way Stiles' amber eyes glint in the night. It's almost too much, but Derek swallows back his instincts and takes a step back. It's important that Stiles knows that he would never force him, never hurt him. But it's also important that Stiles knows Derek wants this, has wanted it since he laid his eyes on those too-long limbs and lips that are always bitten red.

"Is that so?" He asks, raking his eyes slowly over Stiles' torso, knowing that Stiles is watching him back, watching him just as eagerly and his wolf practically howls inside of him, but he digs his nails into his thighs and waits it out.

"Y-Yeah." Stiles says, but this time he takes a step forward and his eyes are darker now, chocolate brown, and Derek loses the feeling in his fingertips.

Derek swallows a few times, but he doesn't know what else to say, doesn't know how to put his emotions into words, so he keeps quiet and watches Stiles with a predatory gaze.

Stiles takes a few more steps forward, reaches a hand out towards Derek and the werewolf doesn't move, even when those pale fingers are resting against his chest. Stiles shudders against him, shivers like he's a second away from release and Derek can feel his own blood rushing through his veins. He can't help but to growl as Stiles' scent thickens and his fingers tighten against where they are gripping his shirt.

He can feel his control slipping off the side of a very steep slope because he's been waiting far too long for this. Two years of fucking up into his hand like a dog in heat, two years of long runs in the woods and catching Stiles' scent everywhere, two years of a careful balance between hate and lust.

"Stiles. I-"

"I want you." Stiles says, cutting him off, and suddenly Stiles is pressed against his body, and Derek's senses zero in on the want and the longing and he wraps his arms around Stiles' back and lifts him.

Stiles wraps his legs around his body, huffs into his neck and Derek needs him now, so he carries the boy back into the house, presses him against a wall that's half rotted and licks at his neck, licks at his lips until Stiles is moaning and pressing his own tongue against Derek's. It's dirty and quick, and Derek doesn't waste any time in shoving Stiles' pants and underwear down, doesn't waste any time in palming his balls until Stiles is a whimpering mess pressed against the wall.

"D-Derek. I-Do you have-?" Stiles stutters out, but Derek doesn't let him finish, shoves his tongue into Stiles' mouth and presses him further against the wall before he eases up and separates his body from Stiles'.

He presses a kiss to swollen, pink lips and backs away to grab lube, and when he returns Stiles is slowly jerking himself off, back slip-sliding against the wall behind him and Derek bites at his neck, lets his fangs slide against his sweat and Stiles releases a moan that goes right to Derek's cock.

His long fingers grapple at Derek's jacket before finally managing to tug it off. His lust-brown eyes find Derek's in the half-moonlit room and Derek doesn't waste any time in tugging off his t-shirt as well. He throws it somewhere behind him, too busy losing himself in the sensation of Stiles' nimble fingers dancing over his chest, his stomach, his waist.

It's almost too much because all of his senses are zeroed in on Stiles, Stiles, Stiles and he can pinpoint every single up-beat of his heart, every single surge of his pulse and he needs him now and he thinks maybe Stiles wants the same thing because his fingers are tugging at the top button of his jeans, fumbling around with that never-ending energy.

"Wait." He mumbles against the side of Stiles' neck and kisses away the pout before lifting Stiles back into his arms. Those long legs slide around his waist and he can feel Stiles' hard cock leaking against his stomach and it takes all of his control to keep his nails from lengthening and curling into the muscles of Stiles' back.

He steps forward, heads for the stairs at a pace that is much too fast but Stiles' tongue is tracing the shell of his ear and he can't fucking think, can't fucking wait with that warm, wet muscle sliding over his skin. Stiles doesn't seem to mind either, just tightens his hold on Derek's neck and takes the tip of Derek's earlobe into his mouth to suck lightly on it.

Derek growls in warning before kicking open the half-burnt door to his room and he lays Stiles on his bare mattress. The blanket is kicked off to a barren corner of the room, but that doesn't matter because he'll make sure Stiles won't be getting cold tonight.

"Derek. Come here." Stiles says when Derek doesn't move from his position above the boy, when he gets lost in gazing at long, pale limbs that never seem to end, gets lost in tracing the grooves of his muscles and the ridges of his cock.

He complies with Stiles' wishes and closes the distance between their lips, takes Stiles' tongue into his mouth and sucks at it until he is a moaning, writhing mess beneath him. He takes advantage of the boy's bliss and sucks mark after mark on his long, pale neck.

Stiles' nails dig into the muscles of his back, leaving red crescent marks that fade after a few seconds but reappear when Derek uses the tips of his fangs to leave deeper nicks on the pale column. Stiles tugs at the fine hairs on the nape of Derek's neck and Derek tries to ignore him but Stiles only tugs harder until Derek pulls away and stares into wide, wet eyes with glowing red ones.

"Let me." He says, but stops when he sees the way Derek's fangs elongate just a bit more. He leans upwards to lick the tip of one and then presses a chaste kiss to the side of Derek's mouth. "Here."

Stiles pushes at Derek's shoulder, trying to guide him with his hands and the wolf inside Derek doesn't want that, wants to dominate and mount. It's difficult to fight it because it's pure, primal instinct, but he has to. He has to because it's Stiles, and Stiles is all trusting smiles, and bright eyes, and Derek wake up, come on, please!, so Derek takes a deep breath and lets the weaker human push him on his back, lets Stiles climb on top of him and rest his hands on his heaving chest.

"Good. Thank you, baby." Stiles whispers, voice soft and heavy with need. Derek tries to ignore the way the pet name makes his heart thump a little faster, but Stiles can feel it beneath his hands, feel it burn through his palms and he smiles like Derek just hung the fucking moon for him.

Derek flushes red and turns his head to the side, but Stiles takes his face between his hands, doesn't let him escape the too-soft gaze and gently kisses his forehead. Derek really wishes he had control of his heart because suddenly he feels like it will beat so fast it'll combust.

Stiles smooths his sweaty hair down with his hand before ducking his head to mouth at Derek's jawline. His tongue sweeps over the dark stubble and Derek rumbles low in his chest, head inching to the side just a bit more to let Stiles latch his lips onto the hollow of his throat. It's a vulnerable place, his neck, but his wolf only keens for more when Stiles bites down softly, testing the waters.

He distracts Derek with his hands, tweaks his nipple a bit and chuckles at the way Derek jerks beneath him. Derek glares at his wall, thinks about crossing his arms over his chest, but then Stiles is ducking even lower and suddenly a warm wet heat is licking over his abused nub.

His toes curl inward and he throws his head back, biting his lip to hold in his groan. Stiles blinks slowly at him from beneath his long, dark lashes and Derek can't hold back the next noise that's nearly punched from his chest. He feels a little embarrassed, to be honest, because he's already leaking copious amounts of pre-cum and he's barely touched or been touched, but Stiles doesn't let him focus on that for too long.

He licks at Derek's other nipple, closes his teeth over the tip and pulls, and Derek's nails pop out and dig new holes into his mattress. Stiles lifts his head and mouths at Derek's neck before pressing a kiss to his lips. It's short and sweet and Derek can't do much other than pant and try to will his nails to disappear.

"It's okay." Stiles says after he's done peppering kisses all over Derek's face.

Derek looks at him, confused, but then Stiles drops his gaze to his hands and he understands. Still, though, he's a little unsure about it all, doesn't want to hurt Stiles, only wants to make him feel good so he tilts his head away and gazes into the darkness with a frown. Stiles grabs his chin and makes him meet his gaze, and it's gone all soft and serious and Derek can feel his heart pounding away again.

"I trust you." Stiles says, and Derek gets flashbacks of chlorine and water overflowing into his lungs and he can't help but to surge upwards to capture Stiles' lips in a burning kiss.

It means a lot, those words, and he wants Stiles to know it but he thinks he already does, judging from the blush on his cheeks and the light flickering in his eyes. He's so beautiful, seated atop Derek, all flushed skin and panting breaths. He's so fucking beautiful and Derek wants to tell him, but the words are all choked up in his throat so he tries to show Stiles instead.

He raises his hands, focus zeroed in on pale skin and nails that are too sharp, and gently takes Stiles face in between his fingers. He expects Stiles to tense and lock up in the face of danger, but he doesn't. He just smiles down at him, slow and easy, and Derek's chest constricts. One of his claws scrapes against Stiles' cheek and he loses his breath, eyes wide and fearful. He watches as time seems to slow down, watches the way a tiny bead of blood trickles it's way down Stiles' jawline, and Derek raises his eyes cautiously to gauge his reaction.

What he sees isn't what he expected at all, and he thinks he should be prepared by now for all of these surprises but he can't help it because Stiles is a fucking roller coaster ride and he loves it. He thinks he might be addicted to it and that can't be good for his health, not at all, because it makes his heart feel like it's too big for his chest and it makes breathing more difficult than it should be.

Above him, Stiles' eyes have gone even darker, nearly black in the darkened room and he's got his nails dug into the skin of Derek's shoulder. He's panting faster now, and Derek feels his cock twitch against his lower stomach.

He…he likes it. Derek watches with bated breath as Stiles raises his hand to his cheek, wipes at the shallow cut with the pad of his thumb and then puts it in his mouth and sucks. A loud groan is punched out from Derek's chest as he watches Stiles' red, blotchy cheeks hollow out and he can only imagine what the wet, tight heat of his mouth feels like. Derek thinks he's done now, thinks he's gotten his fill, but Stiles takes Derek's hand in his own, runs one of his clawed fingers over a dark blue vein on his neck and pushes until another trickle of blood spills down.

Derek's eyes flash red again and his fangs fill out inside his mouth. Stiles dips his fingers into the cut, but instead of sucking his fingers into his own mouth, this time he pushes them against Derek's lips and Derek opens up willingly, hyper-aware of his lethal teeth that are much too sharp.

Stiles, seemingly unconcerned about all things dangerous, pushes his fingers into the warm, wet tavern of Derek's mouth and presses them downwards. Derek's eyes roll back in his head when the first splash of Stiles' blood hits his tongue and he tries to hold back a full body shudder. He never would have imagined that Stiles would do this, never would have imagined that Stiles could be any more fucking attractive than he already was, but Derek is proved wrong once again and he loves it.

He wraps his tongue around Stiles' digits and sucks hard. His wolf keens happily at the way Stiles groans and the way his eyes roll towards the back of his head. Derek wraps his hands around Stiles' hips, lets his claws break the skin, and drags him upwards so their cocks are lined up.

Stiles inhales sharply when Derek thrusts upwards and nips at the tip of his fingers. He can feel the drop of blood fall over his bottom lip and plunge downwards towards his chin. He can't help the upward quirk of his lip, especially when Stiles groans and presses his hips down. They stay like that, steadily rocking into each other, until Stiles leans down and pants into Derek's ear, "Fuck me," and something primal, something fierce and unbridled breaks loose inside of him.

He flips Stiles over with a sub vocal growl that vibrates through his bones and he doesn't give the boy any warning before Derek's bending him in half and dropping downwards to run the flat of his tongue against Stiles' hole. He clamps his hands down on Stiles' hips as he tries to thrust himself back down on Derek's face.

"Derek, fuck." He breathes, hips moving in jerky, little circles.

It pleases him, to have taken away so much of Stiles' control and reduced him to this writhing, lust-filled mess. Derek's taking him apart bit by bit, as much as Stiles' has already taken him apart, and he realizes in that moment that they were made for this. They were made for each other.

With a new intensity, he stabs his tongue into Stile's ass and groans at the thick, musky taste. Its pure Stiles without the scents of others clinging to the skin and Derek wants to devour him.

He tries his best to do just that as Stiles groans and begs above him, hands digging into Derek's scalp. He tries to drag it out, take it slow, but he can feel the wolf beneath his skin literally attempting to vibrate straight out of the cage of his body, so he pulls away with regret.

Stiles insistently tugs him up his body and then latches his lips to Derek's, tongue fucking deep into his mouth. Derek realizes he's trying to taste himself on Derek's tongue and his cock gives a hard jerk, more pre cum leaking out. He pants against Stiles open mouth, plants a hand flat on his chest, and pushes him back down. Stiles whines and scrabbles at Derek's arms with his hands, but Derek pulls away and flashes red eyes at him.

"Stay," He orders and smirks when Stiles hands drop down obediently. He watches Derek with hooded eyes, lips spit-slick and chest heaving.

"You are fucking gorgeous." Derek tells him, and then he's wrapping his hands underneath Stile's thighs and hefting them up.

Stiles flushes to his ears but lets Derek hook his legs over his shoulders. He's gripping the bed sheets so hard his knuckles are white and Derek turns his head to delicately kiss the inside of his knee. He reaches over for the lube, pops the cap open with his thumbnail, and squeezes a generous amount over his dick. He realizes that Stiles is watching him with an intense heat and it causes Derek to stutter to a stop.

"Derek." Stiles breathes out, and it's a plea and a promise all at once and Derek's heart nearly thumps straight out of his chest again.

"I've got you." He says back, before taking his cock in between his thumb and forefingers and pressing it against Stiles' hole. He watches as Stiles' eyelids flutter closed and the way his breathing hitches upwards. He's everything Derek could have ever wanted, he's all Derek will ever want.

"Open your eyes," he says, right before he thrusts inside all at once.

It's hot and wet and tight and Derek's claws dig into Stiles thighs, which causes Stiles' to clamp down on him harder. A growl rips its way from his chest and he is barely able to wait for Stiles to relax before he's fucking into him hard and fast and brutal.

Below him, Stiles is watching him with his pupils blown so wide that his eyes are only thin rings of amber. He's moaning Derek's name over and over again, practically a chant and Derek realizes that it's because Derek is talking to him.

"You are so fucking perfect. Wanna tear you apart from the inside out, want to fuck you so hard you'll feel it for days, feel me for days, want everyone to know that you are mine, always will be mine. You were made for me, your tight little hole just takes everything I give, isn't that right baby boy? Come on, tell me your mine, Stiles. Say it." He's mumbling out, breath rattling inside his lungs to the rhythm of the harsh snap of his hips.

There are bruises circling Stiles thighs from where he is gripping them and Stiles' blood has trickled down his creamy, white thighs down towards where Derek is fucking into him. Stiles raises his hand and strokes it down Derek's jaw, soft and sure.

"I'm yours, Derek. I'm yours." He says quietly and sincerely and Derek howls as he comes.

Stiles is right there with him, screaming out his name and clamping down hard on his dick. His ass is milking every single drop of his cum and Derek pushes his hips forward. He wants to get deeper, wants his cum to stay inside Stiles and mark him with Derek's scent. He realizes a beat later that his wolf has stopped trying to explode from his skin and that his fangs and claws are gone.

He gently releases his grip on Stiles' thighs as he groans softly, "Derek, c'mere," he urges. He pulls his legs away from Derek's shoulders and wraps them around his waist instead, pulling him upwards. Derek snaps and growls, pushing his dick further inside before settling down on Stiles' chest. Warm hands start to card through his sweaty hair and he rumbles happily.

"So, uh. I'm guessing this is a werewolf thing?" Stiles says a little breathlessly. Derek's knot has begun to swell up, catching on the rim of Stiles' asshole. He bites at Stiles' nipple before nudging his knot inside slowly and carefully. He listens to the way Stiles' heart flutters inside his chest and bites back a moan when he finally fits his entire knot inside.

"You are mine now." He answers, digging his nails into Stiles' sides and holding tight.

"I was always yours." Stiles whispers, wrapping his arms around Derek's shoulders.

For the first time in a long time, Derek feels like he's home.

A/N: Finally finished this, it's been sitting in my writing folder for months now because I'm a lazy fuck who has issues with actually finishing things. It's awful. Also only half of this was beta'd (the first half) so most of the mistakes are mine. I'm an awful editor.