Chapter Text
“That hotel might no longer be there.”
Stiles squinted his eyes to see Derek navigating his way smoothly around the prickly bushes that Stiles himself kept walking into. The damned things were everywhere. They snagged Stiles’ jeans, scratched up his hands when he batted them out of his way, and kept popping up out of nowhere like those angry red mushroom characters in Super Mario Brothers. At least they looked like mushrooms. Stiles wasn’t sure if he could trust his judgment after binge eating an assortment of Doritos and Pringles alongside a full bottle of Coke.
Why the hell can’t hybrids see in the dark? It wasn’t fair for Russell and Derek to be waltzing through the forest as if they had memorized where all the obstacles were in advance while the two hybrids stumbled about as if they were wearing blindfolds.
“What do you mean the hotel might not be there?” Stiles asked his stealthy wolf.
“It was shut down after that triple murder... the one that involved that cult and witchcraft. Or maybe it was the one with the windigo...” It didn’t sound like Derek was entirely sure of what crime had been committed there. “Don’t they usually burn the place down after that?”
“It depends.”
“On what?”
“The land owner.”
“Why should he have a say in whether or not the haunted hotel is destroyed?” Derek gave Stiles a look of disbelief. “It was a triple murder, Stiles.”
“Which the land owner did not commit,” Stiles pointed out. He swore when a low hanging branch whacked into his face, no doubt leaving a fine red welt behind. “He owns the property so he has the right to carry on conducting business there for as long as he pleases. Remember that the deaths of those people had nothing to do with criminal negligence on his part. The hotel was not to blame.” Why should a humble law-abiding citizen be punished for the actions of a windigo? It wasn’t Eternal Beacon Hotel’s fault that a windigo had chosen to attack, maim, and cannibalize three of its guests. But the owner had still suffered since there hadn’t been one visitor to his hotel ever since that gruesome event. That had been six years ago.
“But—.”
“The owner died of a heart attack last year,” Stiles continued, taking the initiative to answer anymore questions that Derek might have, before he went ahead and asked them. “The sheriff’s department is in the process of searching for his next of kin, or his last will and testament, before they decide what to do with the property. The hotel was still standing the last time I checked, but it was condemned after that accident.”
“What accident?”
At the time Stiles had come across the information it hadn’t seemed relevant to him in any way so he had chosen to push it aside. However, now that he was faced with the very real possibility of having to spend the night there, the details surrounding the hotel’s fate came back to him in a blur of carnage. “The east wing of the hotel suddenly collapsed... burying the building inspector and two of our deputies alive.”
“Three!”
“Huh?”
“Three people,” Derek said in a panic. “The same number as the windigo victims!”
“That’s just a coincidence. The hotel hadn’t been maintained in quite some time. The building inspector and those deputies were killed in a freak accident. There was no feasting on human flesh involved.”
“Did they recover the bodies?!”
“Derek, holy fuck!” Stiles shouted without thinking, his voice reverberating throughout the forest. “What fucking difference does it make whether or not they recovered the bodies?! There’s nowhere else for us to go! We’ll be sleeping there tonight even if there are unrecovered dead bodies in the building! The same goes for that windigo on the loose!” He stood there with his fists clenched, heaving hard from his outburst. When a strong hand grasped his right shoulder firmly, he reflexively elbowed the person behind him in the stomach.
“What the hell?!” Russell took a step back from Stiles, doing his best not to touch his stomach and reveal how much that blow had hurt. “Have you lost it? What if I had been Derek or Tom? You could have seriously hurt someone.”
“It’s your own fault for sneaking up on me like that,” Stiles shouted angrily. “I would have known if it had been Tom, and I would never hurt Derek.”
“I didn’t sneak up on you. I was behind you the entire time. You’re just too busy shouting like a fucking lunatic to notice what is going on around you. Do you want those wolves to hear you?!”
“Give me a break! I’m not shouting that loud. I can be pissed off if I want to be pissed off. Not only did I wreck my fucking jeep, but now I’m stuck in this shitty forest with all its stupid prickly defences. There are snakes and animal droppings everywhere, but nobody has a fucking flashlight so I can see what the fuck I’m stepping on!” Stiles became even more furious as he felt pressured to explain why he was in a bad mood. As if the others really needed an explanation for his outburst. He felt so riled up that the only thing that might calm him down was punching someone in the face. He would gladly take on that entire wolf pack on his own if they were daring enough to challenge him. The thought of tearing Jayce limb from limb and tossing his remains into the abandoned hotel to be scavenged by a hungry windigo nearly calmed Stiles down. Nearly...
“What’s a windigo?” Tom hesitantly asked, for no other reason than to distract Stiles from continuing on his abusive verbal rampage.
Stiles whirled around to unleash his fury on Tom. What’s a windigo, Tom? Why it’s nothing but a large grotesque ogre that feeds on human flesh. Try sleeping with that image in your head! But he stopped short with his mouth open, unable to voice his dark thoughts when he caught sight of the look on Tom’s face. There was a haunted look in the sheriff’s blue eyes, along with fear and guilt. Whatever Tom had been doing to subdue Stiles’ lust for violence and destruction was no longer working. Stiles knew this, as did Tom. How many times had Tom witnessed a hybrid go berserk before? What was his success rate with calming one down before they reached the point of no return. Stiles felt so overcome with anger that he wasn’t sure what he might do.
Perhaps sensing that a simple question wouldn’t derail Stiles’ temper tantrum, Derek came between Stiles and Tom. He also motioned for Russell to stay back. Russell was the one opponent that Stiles would feel more inclined to attack due to the park ranger’s strength and resilience.
“Stiles, nobody is saying that you don’t have a right to be upset,” Derek said rationally. “We’re all upset. But shouting about it isn’t going to make the situation any better.”
“What do you expect me to do? I can’t stand this place! All these stupid trees... and my sneakers are ruined!”
“Derek, don’t get too close,” Tom warned.
“Are you trying to tell my wolf what to do?!” Stiles took an aggressive step towards Tom, forgetting that Derek was still in the way, and had to will his body to stop before he accidentally hurt his new boyfriend. Nearly spontaneously, Russell launched himself in front of Tom, protecting the sheriff in wolf form. Those purple eyes glowed menacingly at him, while Russell snarled with his fangs showing, threatening to attack in order to keep Tom safe.
“Stiles, please,” Derek pleaded, holding his ground but not out of bravery. He was just as frightened by Stiles’ black mood as Tom was. The only reason Derek was refusing to back down was because he loved Stiles. He was willing to bet his life on Stiles’ love and devotion. Because how could Stiles possibly hurt the man that he loved?
Stiles glanced sharply from one target to the next, trying to make sense of what was going on. His gaze first fell on Tom, who posed the least threat to him at such a distance, and with his left arm still immobile in that sling. Without his gun, the slender sheriff was pretty much useless. No combat experience, a limited amount of strength, and no special abilities. He was a liability - the weakest link. He would be the first to fall if they were attacked.
Next Stiles narrowed his gaze on Derek. The wolf was fast and quite a formidable enemy due to his enhanced physique and preternatural abilities. But that was only when he was up against regular enemies, and when his mind was in the game. Although Derek hid it better than Tom, the wolf was just as traumatized by what had been done to him and every aspect of his abilities was suffering as a result. Compared to his usual levels, Derek was now acting sluggish, timid, and overly cautious. On top of that, he was nothing but a beta. It wouldn’t take much for a larger, more experienced wolf - or a stronger hybrid - to take him out.
Then there was Russell. Stiles could not surmise what kind of threat the park ranger posed. Judging by the way Russell moved and the tension evident in his facial muscles, neck, and arms, he was most likely holding back one hell of a lot of power. Maybe even more than Stiles. Still, he had a weakness and it wouldn’t be too difficult to exploit it. If something were to happen to Tom, all Russell’s control would go out the window. Then he would be reduced to a mere animal bent on vengeance and devoid of strategy.
“Stiles?”
Stiles returned his attention to Derek. He felt dismayed when he realized just how scared his wolf was. Now Derek would be wondering if Stiles really was who he claimed to be. Maybe the original Stiles really had perished at the bottom of that Homestead lake. The alien was in charge now and it might not show Stiles’ beloved wolf any compassion... or mercy.
A sharp emotion wrenched itself into Stiles’ mind before he could consider what to do next. It was cold, unyielding and insistent. Because the emotion was in Stiles’ head instead of his heart, he felt confused. Slowly but surely, it burrowed into the knots of anger that he was being consumed by, loosening and unraveling them one by one. He belatedly realized that someone was messing with his head and tried to fight back, but by that time it was already too late. The foreign emotions dragged him down, becoming too heavy and overwhelming for him to resist. Gradually, the uncontrollable anger faded, only to be replaced by sadness and fear. Although Stiles knew that those feelings were not his own, he couldn’t help but feel burdened by them. He felt tears prick his eyes, unclenching his fists to look directly at Tom. Neither Derek nor Russell were capable of such an attack, but Tom... Who else could it be?
Stiles’ mind felt even more muddled when he saw that Tom was not looking at him. The other hybrid was being tended to by Russell. There was a pained look on Tom’s face, but his gaze was downcast. Russell was checking the bandage at the base of Tom’s neck, the one that had been concealed by the collar of the sheriff’s navy blue long sleeve shirt. Tom gave no indication that he was paying any attention to Stiles, much less playing mind games with him.
What the fuck?
Feeling undeniably calmer now and a hell of a lot more level-headed, Stiles shamefully looked at his wolf. “Derek... I’m really sorry I freaked out like that. You know that I would never...” He left the rest unspoken because he couldn’t bear to put his worst fears into words.
Amazingly, Derek moved closer, no longer afraid because Stiles was in control once more. “I know. Russell told me that hybrids have problems with anger management, which Tom does his best to resolve. But I overheard Tom saying that his powers are no longer working, which is why he isn’t healing. It’s probably also why you suddenly lost control of your anger. Your stabilizing force is temporarily broken.”
How could that be? Something had taken the wind out of Stiles’ sails and that power hadn’t come from within him. So where had it come from? Tom had explained that he instinctively neutralized the bloodthirsty anger and hatred that often consumed hybrids, especially newly formed ones. In rare, hostile cases, he went so far as to absorb those negative emotions when the hybrid in question was filled to the brim with them. But what Stiles had felt a moment ago wasn’t himself being relieved of his anger. No. What he had felt was that anger being overturned by sadness and fear, emotions that he had no claim to. Those alien sensations had not been a passive gesture. It had been a focused assault.
“Are you feeling better now?”
Stiles felt even more miserable for his behavior now that Derek was acting all sympathetic and caring towards him. “You’ve got to stop doing that, Derek,” he said with a heavy sigh.
“Doing what?”
Stiles tugged his wolf closer and hugged him tightly. “Forgiving people who treat you like shit. Me included.”
“You didn’t treat me like shit,” Derek protested. “You threw a hissy fit over your muddy sneakers.” He burrowed even closer to Stiles, his fuzzy beard tickling Stiles’ neck. “I know that you would never make me sleep anywhere near a windigo.”
Upon hearing that, Stiles felt like even more of a bastard. He had been quite serious when he said that they would be sleeping in that hotel tonight, windigo or no windigo. After being changed into a hybrid all of Stiles’ inhibitions had gone out the window. His sense of fear also may have been affected because he just couldn’t muster up even a twinge of it when picturing that gory windigo slathered in the blood of one of its victims. But he could not forget that such a creature would terrify Derek and possibly Russell, who was unaccustomed to such Halloween horrors. And he didn’t even need to wonder about how Tom would react because the sheriff was already scared of the vampires and demons.
“Of course I wouldn’t,” Stiles lied, beginning to stroke Derek’s thick dark hair. It was fuzzy, too. Everything about Derek was fuzzy. Unable to help himself, Stiles began to wonder where else his wolf might be fuzzy. Stiles would protect Derek from anything that went bump in the night, whether it be a nasty wolf or a flesh eating windigo. There was no need to worry. “You’re all shivery,” Stiles exclaimed when Derek bristled against him.
“Had I known that we would be walking through the forest at night, I would’ve brought my jacket with me,” he said sarcastically.
Stiles rubbed his hands up and down Derek’s arms in the attempt to warm him up. Then, losing his patience when that didn’t work, he squeezed Derek in a suffocating embrace as he greedily kissed him. He sealed his lips over Derek’s, his tongue darting into the wolf’s mouth to taste him. This’ll warm you up! He kissed Derek with abandon, nearly smirking when his tongue slickly stroked against the wolf’s, eliciting that purring groan that caused Derek to stir in his jeans. Stiles was vaguely aware of Tom and Russell in the background, but thankfully they were too polite to interrupt. In fact, he heard the crunching of dry leaves begin to fade into the distance as they continued on up ahead. Finally! Some privacy.
“Is my wolf happy to see me?” Stiles teased as they parted for air.
Derek looked at him blankly for a moment, definitely not getting the sexual innuendo. “Why wouldn’t I be happy to see you?”
Derek’s social skills were the absolute worst. And he was apparently clueless when it came to slang and euphemisms. Oh the things that Stiles could teach him! “Why indeed?” Stiles nudged his knee between Derek’s thighs, just barely touching him, but the contact was enough to make the wolf gasp in surprise. “Those jeans look too tight.”
“They’re not.” Derek attempted to pull away, looking embarrassed by his reaction.
Not allowing Derek to escape, Stiles backed him into one of the many menacing trees that made up the forest. The ones that were responsible for blocking out most of the fading daylight. Having trapped Derek there, with his back against a centuries-old tree trunk that was covered in large patches of bark and moss, Stiles went back to kissing Derek at his leisure. It was a great way to relieve stress, and to get his hands on the man that he just couldn’t get enough of. Plus, after a little bit of coaxing, Derek became quite aroused and responsive. It was probably in Derek’s nature to be wild and sexual, if paired with the proper partner - namely Stiles. Derek was now straining against Stiles and making welcoming animal sounds at the back of his throat. The poor wolf couldn’t help himself, not with the way Stiles was applying pressure with his knee to Derek’s crotch.
“Are they gone?” Stiles breathed between kisses, his palm pressed firmly up against Derek’s solid abs. He could feel how defined they were through the wolf’s t-shirt, but longed to get closer to his skin. That would definitely feel nice. Running his hands over Derek’s naked flesh.
“Who?” Derek panted, not understanding the relevance of the question for a moment. “Oh! Y—yes... I can barely hear them anymore.”
“Good.” Stiles licked his way down the side of Derek’s neck, while he pushed one hand up the wolf’s t-shirt. He trusted that Russell and Tom would not wander off too far, mainly because pack members did not desert one another. And also because they had no idea where the hotel was. Anyway, those two might also benefit from a little alone time together.
“Stiles, this really isn’t—.” Derek broke off into a moan when Stiles ghosted his thumb over the wolf’s right nipple.
“Fuck, Derek, there’s never going to be the right moment for us, okay? Let’s just take this moment to do what I’ve wanted to do ever since I saw you bending over those damned delicious pastries of yours.” Stiles rubbed that nipple in little circular motions, gradually increasing the pressure until it became quite taut and hard. He then pinched it, drawing a sharp intake of breath from Derek, before bending his head down to flick his tongue over it. Derek moaned quite loudly and dug his claws into the tree bark at his back to try and brace himself against further stimulation. “Yummy wolf,” Stiles murmured as he licked and sucked on that nipple, moving his fingers to its neighbor to begin prepping it for a similar treatment.
“Stiles,” Derek moaned when Stiles seized the other nipple between his lips and playfully tugged on it. That rich sound changed to quick gasps and panting when Stiles set to work licking on that nipple, making it so hard that it had to be painfully sensitive by the time Stiles grazed his teeth over it.
Stiles moved his hand lower while his mouth was occupied, mapping his way over Derek’s godlike chest and abs, and then pushing his hand lower still where he met resistance in the form of a pair of well worn blue jeans. Unfortunately, the jeans didn’t have a lot of stretch to them, which is why they molded to Derek’s body in all the right places. Stiles couldn’t get more than two fingers past the waist, so he decided to unbutton them, and then unzip them. He hesitated, giving Derek the opportunity to stop things if he was uncomfortable, but his wolf was too distracted with the way Stiles was sucking on him to notice anything else. Derek’s ability to compartmentalize anything and everything meant that he would in no way associate what Stiles was doing with him to what Jayce had done to him. Besides, the noises that Derek was making were that of pure bliss, not pain and suffering. But when Stiles’ hand crept into the opening of Derek’s jeans to cup him firmly, Derek loosened his claws from the bark so that he could grab onto Stiles’ upper arms.
Giving Derek’s nipple one last lick, Stiles straightened up so that he could gauge his wolf’s expression. “Are you okay with this?” He asked, keeping his palm covering the bulge in those tight boxer briefs because Derek had not clawed him or asked him to stop.
“Why are you asking me such a stupid question?! What do you think?” Derek practically growled out of frustration.
That was Derek’s customary way of showing that he had no idea how to express his emotions, or his wants and needs. He could become a demanding, sulky wolf if his needs were not met, but Stiles would see to it that Derek never got neglected again. A gasp of surprise escaped Stiles when Derek suddenly pushed up against him for another kiss, with that constricted erection of his thrusting wantonly into Stiles’ hand. Taking that as a sign to move on, Stiles seized the elastic of Derek’s underwear and pulled them down, freeing the wolf’s erection. The old Stiles would have frozen at that point, debating over whether to put his hand on Derek, or pull out his cell phone to take a snapshot of what might be his first and last encounter with the idol of his dreams. In contrast to that immaturity, the new Stiles was much more confident and only interested in a permanency between them. He knew what he was going to do to Derek, just as he knew that this would only be the beginning of a lifetime of intimacy between them. Why not make it memorable?
As Stiles began to stroke Derek, he became aware of a pair of hands on his chest, but they soon traveled down to his black jeans, undoing them in a hasty fashion. And then Derek was palming him through his geeky X-Men boxers, making a sound of appreciation when he discovered just how excited Stiles had become.
Now feeling impatient, Stiles temporarily released Derek so that he could push down his own boxers. The fresh air was crisp and breezy but he was too hot to care. Nothing could deflate his desires, not even the sound of rustling leaves along the perimeter of their love tree. Stiles kicked off his pants, followed by his boxers, and ground his overeager cock against Derek’s, possessively biting the juncture of the wolf’s neck and shoulder to mark him as his own. Derek trembled and moaned, accepting Stiles’ bite as an initiating mating gesture. Reaching between them, Stiles took Derek’s cock into his hand again to begin stroking him, groaning in pleasure when his wolf did the same for him. Stiles felt Derek stiffen when he swept his other hand over the wolf’s toned ass. Every part of Derek seemed to belong to some mythical carving. He was just too perfect to be real. And yet... there was nothing imaginary about the heat that Stiles greedily sank his index finger into.
“You like this?” Stiles asked dryly as he watched Derek’s sea-green eyes start to glow blue. When Derek didn’t immediately answer, Stiles started to withdraw his finger, but his wolf pushed back onto it with a growl, which soon turned into a lustful moan. “You want it here?” Stiles teased Derek by not delving deeper, instead forcing him to beg for it.
“Stiles,” Derek pleaded, making Stiles’ name sound like some sort of sexual chant.
“Maybe if you ask nicely...”
“Damn it, Stiles! Stop reenacting one of your childish porno movies and just mate us already!”
Derek wanted to be mated! To Stiles! How the hell could Stiles say no to that? Leaving Derek alone for a few seconds, Stiles dropped to his knees on the forest floor to search his jeans’ pockets. Finding what he was looking for, he ripped open a portable lubricant sachet, spilling the contents into his opposite palm. He ignored the astonished look that Derek gave him in favor of coating his really erect cock with the lube. When he approached Derek, with his cock jutting proudly forward and his hand glistening with what was left of the lube, the wolf nervously licked his lips.
“Turn around,” Stiles whispered breathlessly, swallowing hard when he was presented with the sleek back of his wolf. “Put your hands on the tree and lean forward.” Derek did as he was asked, although not without a bit of hesitation. He was very vulnerable like that, with his ass on display. Stiles moved forward and traced his slippery index finger down between Derek’s buttocks, pausing for effect, before he slid his finger inside the wolf. This time Derek actually sighed, as if he had been anticipating this for quite some time. Well, that response was far too tame for Stiles’ liking, so he pushed his finger in deeper, until Derek started to moan again. And then Stiles added another finger, slowly stretching Derek as he eased his fingers in and out of him. He could have gone on all night like that, just keeping Derek on the brink of ecstasy, but not letting him reach his full satisfaction. But Stiles had his own needs, and those could not be ignored.
Edging closer so that Stiles’ pelvis was lined up with Derek’s ass, Stiles slipped his fingers out and gripped his cock instead. He guided it to the hot entrance to Derek’s body and pushed forward. As he felt Derek’s muscles loosen to accommodate him, Stiles grunted at the feeling of just how snug that canal was. He’d heard nasty rumors about how Kate Argent had liked to insert various objects into Derek to force him to submit to her, but if she had, Stiles couldn’t tell. The deeper Stiles thrust, the louder Derek became, encouraging him on by pushing back onto Stiles’ cock.
“Ffffuck,” Stiles groaned. “You feel sooo good.” He couldn’t help himself. There was no way he was going to stay quiet while his cock was embedded deep within Derek, the head rubbing up against that spot that he knew would make his wolf purr again. Although it was more of a rumbling groan than a purr. Once Derek had gotten used to the feeling of being stretched by Stiles, and Stiles had gotten used to how much he loved moving inside Derek, they began to move in unison. Stiles thrust forward when Derek pushed back, and when Stiles pulled back... Derek tried to lure Stiles back by making one hell of a lot of noise.
Under it all, Stiles was shocked and turned on to hear Derek begging him to be fucked harder. To be mated to him. Stiles reached down to begin stroking Derek’s unattended cock as a liquid heat began to pool in his stomach. He ground harder into Derek, determined to draw the moment out for as long as possible. When he reached his orgasm, he came with an elated shout, spilling his seed inside Derek as his wolf simultaneously came, barely able to hold himself up when the sensations reached their climax.
Stiles grabbed hold of Derek around his chest, easing him down onto the ground so that he could relax. And, after Stiles had finished, he reluctantly pulled free from Derek. They lay sprawled on top of their discarded jeans and underwear while they tried to catch their breath and compose themselves. It had all happened so quickly, but it had been good. No, better than good. It had been cosmically amazing! And the best part was that it was going to happen again and again.
“You’re my sexy wolf now, Derek,” Stiles sighed as he kissed his sated lover.
“I was already yours, you idiot,” Derek replied fondly.
When the sound of rustling leaves grew louder, Stiles pulled Derek to his feet and handed him his clothes, grumbling in complaint the whole time. “Couldn’t they give us a few more minutes?”
“It was more than enough time,” Derek disagreed, sounding uncharacteristically happy.
“I seriously didn’t want to intrude on your ill-timed romance,” Russell said tactfully as he reappeared from the path that he had wandered off on with Tom. “But we have a big problem.”