Derek kisses him for the first time one night when the moon is almost full and the stars light up the darkened sky. His fangs nip Stiles' lip and he licks up the blood. Stiles just moans.
possessiveness, 3k
Derek is possessive. He'd say it's in his nature, but he wasn't like this before.
Something about the boy makes his fangs draw out of his gums and his claws lengthen. Stiles has saved his life many times, too many times — from the cops, the kanima, even the nogitsune, from Stiles' body himself. Stiles has wormed his way into Derek's heart, under his skin, left his scent on Derek's clothes and neck without realizing what he's done.
But who is Derek kidding. It's Stiles. Of course he knows. Stiles knows everything.
There have been several… exit points in Derek's life. More than he can count, but times that would have been easy for him to leave the world. He's been in the mindset to want to, having nothing left to keep him here. But now, there's Stiles, and if nothing else, then Derek needs, yearns, to protect Stiles with all that he can, sink his claws into the boy and wrap his body around his and keep him close. Keep him near, keep him safe, keep him alive. Because now, without either of them acknowledging it directly, Stiles is his.
It's beyond things like Derek sneaking up onto Stiles' roof or into his room to guard him while he sleeps and awaken him from nightmares. It's beyond scenting him at pack meetings or watching his back as they fight the next big bad. No, Derek does more.
Stiles often wonders what Derek does during the day while he's at school, while the pack is busy doing normal teenage things. Derek doesn't tell him directly, but one day they make eye contact while Stiles is jogging on the track field.
There's a large black wolf hidden in the shadows of the forest, and its eyes are glowing red as they lock with Stiles' amber gaze, and Stiles stares, and then winks.
"See you later, Sourwolf," he says under his breath, and continues jogging with scarlet eyes watching and watching him.