Sterek One Shots (manxman)

The Chase

Tags: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/OmegaMating Cycles/In Heat, Rutting, Knotting, Rough Sex, Public Sex, Rituals, Ritual Sex, Magic, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Magic, Alternate Universe - Werewolf, Werewolf Stiles Stilinski, Werewolf Mates, Trueform, Biting, Claiming, Soul Bond, Rimming, Self-Lubrication, Alpha Derek, Alpha Lydia, Alpha Danny, Alpha Allison, Omega Stiles Stilinski, Omega Erica, Omega Jackson, Omega Scott, Shamanism

Title - The Chase

Author - saltandbyrne

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Summary:

Derek's fourth Chase will be his last if he doesn't catch an omega this time. He's starting to doubt this whole soul-mate thing anyway, at least until someone from his past shows up and gives him the run of his life.

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Work Text:

Derek's breath freezes in the air, billowing white and drifting off into the cool morning breeze. It's spring, but only by the merest hairsbreadth of days, the grass still frost-tinged and crunching under his feet as Derek shifts his weight. He'd like his scarf, maybe a jacket if he's being honest, but instead he shoves his hands into the thin pockets of his track pants for some fleeting warmth. He'd already hindered himself with a t-shirt, and even that had been pushing it.

He takes a deep breath and rocks back on his heels, willing himself not to shiver. It's easier as he looks over at the Mahealani boy, shirtless and lounging against one of the corral posts like he's sunning himself on a beach chair. He has the honey-brown skin of his pack, but Derek's pretty sure he tans himself during the winter. No one should be allowed to look that sun-kissed at six AM on a March morning. The whole clan was always too pretty for their own good, and Danny's chest gleams smooth and hairless in the dim light of dawn. Hard to believe he could even shift, although Derek had seen it happen. His wolf was all glistening, sleek fur and sculpted curves.

Danny gives him a polite smile, like he can afford to be nice to someone so obviously out of his league. He doesn't even have any goosebumps on his skin, making Derek that much happier for his own hairy chest and his wimpy t-shirt. Just because alphas ran hotter than omegas didn't mean Derek enjoyed the cold, and he's always had his suspicions about that being an old wives' tale to start with. He'd seen Isaac dunk himself in the frigid lake behind their house enough times to know that not all omegas needed to be inside next to a fire, pelt-swaddled and minding the kettle.

Pulling his hands out of his pockets, Derek rubs them together briskly and twists at his waist. He'd stretched, just like all the other alphas, although Derek had done the bare minimum. He'd run how he'd run, and that's that as far as he's concerned. He knows it won't help soothe his nerves, not when every other alpha in the pen seems to take it as an opportunity to size him up.

Like the Martin girl. Lydia's been reminding everyone around her that she can touch her toes every two minutes, bending and stretching when she isn't looking disdainfully at the other alphas around her. She adjusts the zipper of her top, some kind of high-tech sports-bra-vest-hybrid that looks like it involves German engineering and probably cost more than all of Derek's clothes combined. Not that Derek didn't have nice things, but who needs more than three pairs of pants? He just didn't see the point.