Kaito_Inuzuka
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Summary
“You told me I would have time,” Derek said, simmering with anger. “You promised to leave the choice to me.”
“The court is starting to talk,” said Peter. “We do not have a stellar reputation as it is, and your ventures into the world of simple pleasures do not go unnoticed. You do not care, of course. But you are, pardon me, too loud for it to remain discreet.”
“You think if I were to have a wife, I would stop fucking?”
Peter cringed his nose. “No. It would make you a proper, civilized man. You are getting too old, nephew.”
“Fine. But I’ll choose.”
“No,” Peter smiled. “I shall choose.” Derek opened his mouth to argue, but Peter did not let him. “We both know you will continue to fuck whomever you want. None of us will be able to stop you. Let me have a pick of a proper spouse to placate the court. That’s all I ask.”
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Summary
There was no physical equivalent to what it felt like they did, so intimate it was. It was seeing each other naked, it was deep make-outs, it was dry-humping, and it was sex, but it was none of it. Perhaps, if someone opened their chest cavities, took their hearts and squished them together, that’s what it would feel like — feeling their valves open and close, the blood pump, the muscles contract, and one heartbeat pulse right into the other.
Derek offered his hand. “Let me show you one more time.”
“Show me what?”
“What would it feel like to have an alpha.”
Warmth burst in Stiles’ tight chest. His stomach swooped. His spark trembled in anticipation, reaching out, striving to taste that power again. Going red under the constant gaze of those hazel eyes, Stiles put his hand in Derek’s. He couldn’t help but give a small inhale at their sparks meeting once more.
Heat. Weight and weightlessness. Tight embrace and high, impenetrable walls. Power. Safety.
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He was a fool to tell himself he wasn’t thinking of Derek. How could the moon not think of its sun? How, when the light of it — the sight of him — made him yearn to live?
Stiles loved him before. Between their shared breath, upon their touch, after the tender words and giddy smiles, Stiles thought he knew what love was.
He was a fool.
This was love. This was how it felt.
Annihilative. Mournful.
Take all the air from his throat, he would still ask for Derek first.
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Stiles could be meek, sure. In Derek’s arms, softened under the touch, pinned under his weight. He allowed himself to relax only in Derek’s sole presence.
Stiles could also look meek. Small, scared. Let the enemies think he was hiding in his mate’s shadow. After all, no one would stop to think that the shadow could ever be dangerous.
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He was born for this. Nature itself whispered into his ear where he should put his hands, how to twirl his tongue just right and when to bite. Stiles knew well enough that his saliva was currently working its magic on this unfortunate man, making him hungry, lustful, and insatiable. Soon, all his thoughts would be consumed by Stiles.
And, just this once, Stiles would allow Derek to consume him.