Alpha's Power

⇠Falling for You Is Never Easy⇢

Derek saw two things when he opened his eyes. He was in the arms of a teenager, for starters, and he wasn't in his hotel room. Glancing around the dimly lit room, he exhaled gently and untangled himself carefully, hesitating when the smaller male moaned and turned over. The werewolf sighed, got out of bed, and padded into the bathroom after a few minutes. Derek shut the door behind him and swiftly turned on the light, frowning as he glanced at the little mound. The male pressed his lips into a thin line, slowly lifting his black t-shirt, and gently poked at the puffy skin, watching his finger slowly sink into the new flesh. A mixture of pleasure and anxiety bubbled in Derek's chest as he grabbed hold of some of the flesh, squeezing gently.

The werewolf closed his eyes, leaning his head against the door. His head was spinning, and his mouth felt like it was cotton. Half of him wanted to pretend to forget about last night; he and Stiles were just friends; there was no reason to risk ruining that. But the other half of the werewolf knew he wouldn't be able to. Derek's mind flashed back to Stiles's lips, slowly trailing down his bloated belly, the teenager's small fingers digging into his stomach. The male could feel his cheeks burn as he shook the thought to the back of his head, exhaling loudly.

Slipping off his clothing and slipping into the shower, running a hand down his stomach, Derek's mind couldn't help but think about how good it felt to be full. Or how good it felt when Stiles fed him. Anger used to be Derek's anchor whenever his wolf felt frazzled, but now it seemed food was the answer. The male growled lowly, leaning his head against the tilted wall, the hot water rolling off his back. Derek stood there for what felt like hours until he heard Stiles make another noise from his bedroom. Stepping out of the shower, the werewolf inhaled the smell of the teenager sleeping in the other room before grabbing his clothing from the sink. He had to leave; if he didn't, Derek honestly didn't know what he'd do or, for that matter, what Stiles would do.

He pulled on his clothing quickly, ignoring how his jeans pinched his hips slightly. Derek padded back into the bedroom, slowly unlocking the window and cautiously sliding it open. As he climbed through the window seal, he glanced back at the sleeping form on the bed once more. This was for the best, right? The male knew how shallow it was to run away from this problem, but it was for the best for both of them, right? Pushing the thoughts to the back of his head, Derek climbed through the window slowly, closing the window behind him. He landed on all fours as he jumped from the slated roof, shifting quickly before rushing toward the forest. The male's heart beat against his heart while his blood rushed to his ears, causing the world around him to muffle, and the only thing he could hear was his own panting.

Once Derek noticed the burned house in the distance, he slowed his pace into a trot, his nails clicking against the broken cobblestone path. Climbing the broken steps, the male let out a small whine as the wood creaked and bent underneath him. Pushing open the door with his snout, he climbed the staircase to his sister's bedroom. It was the only room that seemed to be untouched from the fire so many years ago. The pink wallpaper peeled from the wood-rotten walls and the finger painting pictures she still had hanging were brown with age. Huffing, the wolf slowly entered the room, inhaling the musk as he climbed onto the dirty mattress and flopped onto his side. He laid his head in between his paws, ignoring his stomach growling. He shouldn't be hungry after the food he gorged himself on last night, but he wasn't exactly human either.

It was a blessing and a curse at the same time. Right now, Derek rolled onto his back, making a noise in the back of his throat. Shifting back, the male stared at the ceiling for a long moment; his stomach growled lowly once more, causing the werewolf to snort, and then pushed himself onto his elbows. Glancing down at his stomach and rolling his eyes, he knew his wolf wouldn't calm down unless he ate something. But even if he did, that still didn't solve the underlined problem. Derek, a certain teenager who seemed to have a grip on both his human and werewolf hearts, wouldn't force Stiles into anything he didn't want to be a part of. But half of him already knew last night that the teenager knew what he was getting into.