Derek paced back and forth in his loft, claws extended as agitation rolled through him. His wolf was restless, urging him to claim what was theirs. But Derek refused to give in. He couldn't be with Stiles, no matter how right it felt.
When Derek had returned to Beacon Hills after years away, he hadn't expected to find his mate. But his wolf had recognized Stiles immediately, drawn to his sparkling amber eyes and quick wit. Derek, however, didn't want any distractions from keeping the town safe. Pushing Stiles away had been hard, every instinct screaming at him to gather his mate close.
Now, his wolf was near frantic. It knew Derek was willfully denying them what they both craved. An idea formed - if he dated someone else, perhaps his wolf would be satisfied? Maybe these feelings for Stiles would vanish if he found physical release elsewhere.
It was a foolish hope, but Derek was grasping at straws. He asked out Braeden, a badass bounty hunter, and to his disappointment his wolf slowly fell silent. Relieved, Derek immersed himself in his new relationship, trying not to notice how lifeless it felt compared to what he imagined with Stiles.
After an excruciatingly long date with Braeden when all he could think about was a messy head of brown hair and pale skin. He forced down the wolf, taking the silence as acceptance of Braeden. He took her back to his loft, pulling her over to the bed as she held his head, making out with him messily. She ran a hand up through his hair but all Derek could imagine was Stiles doing exactly this. Braeden pushed Derek down on the bed and slowly pushed up Dereks old grey henley and started kissing hickeys onto his neck but the only sound from the wolf was a low growl that Derek just took as the Alpha didn't like the idea of not being the dominant one.
To fix this ache he flipped them over, Derek kneeled over Braeden on his bed, leaning in for a kiss. But as their lips met, all he could think of was pale moles dotted across bronzed skin. Braeden smelled of gunpowder instead of vanilla and citrus and musk.
His wolf whimpered pleadingly. This wasn't right. Derek pulled back, brushing hair from Braeden's forehead in a gesture of care rather than passion. "I'm sorry. This isn't fair to you."
Braeden studied him knowingly. "It's Stiles, isn't it?" At Derek's ashamed nod, she sighed. "I had a feeling. The way you talked about him..."
Derek hung his head. "You deserve someone who wants only you. And I realized tonight...that person isn't me."
Braeden cupped his cheek. "It's okay, really. We had fun while it lasted. But your heart was never fully in this, was it?" Derek shook his head mutely.
She smiled softly. "Then go to him, Derek. Don't waste any more time denying yourself what makes you truly happy."
Derek grasped her hand gratefully. It was time to stop running, and face what - no, who - he needed. Stiles.
Derek realized with dread that it wasn't satisfaction his wolf felt - it was despair. Without Stiles, its howls of protest had faded to mournful cries. Derek had to acknowledge the painful truth - his mate was forever out of reach unless he claimed him as his own. But could he find the courage to do so, and risk Stiles' rejection?
Derek dreaded seeing Stiles, knowing his wolf would be in turmoil at being near its mate but unable to have him. Yet he found himself drawn to the Stilinski house, hiding in the trees as he watched Stiles through his bedroom window.
Stiles was focusing intently on homework, chewing on the end of his pen in thought. Derek's heart clenched at the sight, remembering how many times he'd dreamed of replacing that pen with his lips. Stiles sighed and stretched his arms above his head, shirt riding up to show a sliver of pale skin. Derek's control snapped - his wolf surged forth with a feral noise.
Hearing the howl, Stiles whipped around just as Derek burst through the window. "Derek?" Stiles' scent spiked with fear and confusion. Derek shuddered, his wolf raging beneath the surface as it fought for dominance.
"I tried to deny it but I can't anymore." Derek growled, crimson bleeding into his irises. "You're mine, Stiles. My mate."
Stiles gasped, heart pounding wildly at Derek's possessive words. Before he could respond, Derek lunged forward to claim Stiles' mouth in a bruising kiss. Stiles melted into it with a needy moan, soft lips parting in surrender. Derek growled approvingly, devouring Stiles like a starving man.
Finally Stiles pulled back, breathing hard. "Wait, what about Braeden? I thought..."
Derek nuzzled Stiles' neck, intoxicated by his mate's scent. "It didn't work. Nothing can satisfy me but you, Stiles. Say you're mine."
Stiles shivered at the desire coloring Derek's tone, his own wolf stirring eagerly in response. Did he dare believe this was real? That Derek truly wanted him? Only one way to find out...
"Yes, Derek. I'm yours."
Derek crushed his lips to Stiles' once more, overcome with joy and possessiveness now that his mate had accepted the bond. Stiles kissed back fervently, gripping Derek's shoulders to pull him closer.
A low growl rumbled in Derek's chest. As much as he wanted to ravish Stiles then and there, claiming his mate amidst the tangle of school papers and Adidas, he knew they needed to talk first. His wolf may have surrendered to destiny, but Derek's human half still had doubts and reservations.
Reluctantly, Derek broke the kiss. Stiles whined softly at the loss of contact, eyes blown wide with arousal and lips kiss-swollen. Derek had to restrain himself from devouring that tempting mouth again. "Come for a walk with me," he said gruffly.
Stiles nodded, still dazed. He followed Derek out into the woods behind his house, leaves crunching under their feet. They walked in charged silence for a while, both processing the seismic shift in their relationship. Derek's wolf was ecstatic now that its mate was by its side, but Derek struggled with unwanted feelings of fear and guilt over Braeden.
Eventually Stiles spoke, touching Derek's arm gently. "I know this is sudden. But I've cared about you for so long. I'll wait as long as you need to feel sure about us."
Derek stopped, gazing deeply into Stiles' whiskey eyes that shone with such open affection and understanding. His chest swelled, the last of his doubts melting away under the warmth of Stiles' care.
"I'm sure," Derek rasped, pulling Stiles in. "My wolf knows you're its mate. And I know you're in my heart, now and always."
