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No Putting a Werewolf Off Your Scent

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"Bacon, bacon. Come on, you delicious, fatty piggy produce, where did you go?"

Stiles almost made a complete 360 degree turn before he spotted the bacon on the kitchen counter right beside him. The counter where he'd put it only two minutes earlier, right before he'd gone on a search for the frying pan. It was somewhat disconcerting how quickly the effects of a missed dosage showed. He'd just totally forgotten to grab his meds yesterday before he made his way over to the Hale property to help Derek and the pack rebuild the old house.

They'd come a long way since they started on the house. Now, they were almost finished. Only the interior needed some more work. Stiles had been looking forward to that part since Day One, looking forward specifically to painting. It reminded him of the time his family had painted their house. He'd been five then and, entrusted with a paint roller so big for his small hands he'd dropped it several times, had pretty much screwed up several walls so badly that his parents had to paint them again. Wisely, they had given him the first go so it hadn't been that big of a deal. His mom had actually found it pretty endearing and had laughed and ruffled his hair while marvelling at and praising his masterwork whereas his dad had only smiled and shaken his head fondly.

Good times, good memories, though they'd only become good again years after his mom's death and his realization that he should look back at his memories on his time with her with a smile rather than tears.

In the last couple of days, including yesterday, he'd finally gotten to do his favourite job of the whole rebuilding process. So, of course, he'd hurried over right after school without stopping home beforehand. Since it had been Friday Stiles had spent the night. The living room had taken him longer than he'd anticipated the day before. A quick talk on the phone with his dad had sealed the deal. Thankfully, the sheriff didn't mind Stiles being over at Derek's or even staying the night anymore. It had become a common occurrence.

On the few occasions that he'd stayed over he'd remembered to bring his Adderall, unlike yesterday when the prospect of putting color on Derek's boring, white, living room walls had beckoned.

That was basically the reason why Stiles found himself in Derek's kitchen on a Saturday morning, puttering around searching for things he'd had in his hands only a moment earlier and muttering under his breath, trying to whip together some kind of breakfast for the pack. Pack meaning only Derek, naturally, and Erica, Isaac and Boyd who all lived at the house with their Alpha. The rest had gone home last night.

Stiles had been dead on his feet when he'd made his final stroke of the brush. After calling his dad and explaining that it would be irresponsible to let him drive home half asleep he'd fallen into bed in the guest room - the one that was basically his room since he was the only one who used it - and had been out of it the moment his face came into contact with the pillow.

He'd been the first to wake. With the restlessness already bubbling underneath his skin, he'd decided to treat the Alpha and his packmates to French toast. He was well aware that the recipe was one of Derek's favourites, but it wasn't as if Stiles didn't like it as well. How could he not love the combination of slightly soggy, cinnamon-y fried toast with grilled bananas, salty bacon and overly sweet maple syrup?

After finally gathering together all the ingredients and tools, which prompted several more lost and found situations, Stiles began mixing together the mixture for the toast to soak in before frying when a voice behind him startled him into spilling some of it onto the kitchen counter. Not that the counter was clean at that point anyway, eggshells and some egg white and flour stuck together in several pretty yucky blobs on the expensive dark marble.

"What's that smell?"

Whirling around and managing to make an even bigger mess out of Derek's kitchen with some of the mixture dripping onto the floor, Stiles spotted Derek at the door. Their Alpha was still in his pajamas, low-slung grey pants and a white wifebeater, and had his nose turned upwards, nostrils flaring as he took deep breaths. Derek's looks and his relaxed stance so shortly after waking up made an irresistible combination that had Stiles' heart beat double its usual pace.

"Oh, morning Derek! I didn't think you'd be up this early. Thought I'd have more time to prepare breakfast," Stiles rambled. A big dab of the rather liquid mixture landed on his left sock and he winced when he noticed the soiled floor. "Oops, sorry. I'll clean that up in a sec."

He turned around, depositing the fork he'd used to beat the mixture in the bowl, and started rummaging through Derek's kitchen cabinets on his search for a kitchen roll.

"What's that smell?" Derek asked again, sounding rather bemused.

"The secret Stilinski French toast mixture extraordinaire. Got all the good things in it, like sugar and cinnamon because sugar and cinnamon make everything better, don't you think? Dude, where the heck do you hide your paper towels?" Stiles wondered aloud, still going through the drawers and cupboards.

"On the counter next to the sink," Derek answered somewhat absent-mindedly, still sniffing the air.

Stiles hit himself on the forehead, cursing his current lack of concentration. He tore off a couple towels and bent down to wipe away the light yellow liquid on the floor, which he thankfully hadn't spread even more by walking through it while on his quest for the paper towels. He startled a bit when Derek spoke again.

"No, it's something else," Derek said and stepped closer to where Stiles was still crouched on the floor.

Stiles could hear Derek sniffing as the Alpha came closer. "Maybe you can smell the bacon even through the packaging," he guessed as he wiped the last drop away before getting up again and throwing the soggy paper towels into the bin in the corner, actually not missing his target.

Derek's sudden presence right in front of him made him jump. "Dude!" Stiles complained, heart rate only slowly going down after the initial shock of being so close to the hotness that was Derek Hale.

"It's not the bacon either," Derek said in a low tone and took another step closer to Stiles.

By now, they were so close they were almost touching from head to toe, which didn't help Stiles' heart calm down, like, at all. He stood with his back pressed against the counter with no way of dodging Derek so when Derek leaned forward and took an audible breath right below Stiles' ear Stiles thought he deserved a fucking prize for not fainting or having his knees buckle underneath him.

Another two deep inhalations later, which was just enough time to have Stiles' body mix a heady cocktail of anticipation, anxiety, arousal and confusion, Derek growled, "What's changed?"

Blinking nervously, confusion currently winning over his complicated jumble of emotions, Stiles wondered what Derek meant. "I don't understand."

Derek lifted his head and looked Stiles straight in the eyes, his eyes bleeding red. It kind of shocked Stiles to see Derek's Alpha eyes trained on him so closely, but according to the excited twitch inside his pants, Stiles figured he probably didn't mind so much. Au contraire.

"You smell different than usual. What's changed?" Derek repeated with only the hint of an explanation.

Stiles tried to focus on remembering whether he'd used different skin or hair products or whatever else that could have caused his scent to change. He came up blank. Maybe he had to blame Derek's proximity for messing with his ability to think clearly. Probably also his missing dosage. And there was a thought. Could medication alter your scent? He honestly had no clue. However, it was the only thing that Stiles could think of that was different from usual.

Shrugging his shoulders and trying to go for nonchalance about Derek's closeness, which most likely failed spectacularly because, well, werewolf senses, Stiles said, "Forgot my Adderall."

For a second, Stiles could watch Derek's still red eyes grow wide before he couldn't see them anymore at all as Derek shoved his face into Stiles' neck with a groan and an especially deep inhalation. Stiles gasped at the sudden touch, his pulse racing, Derek mumbling what sounded like "I knew it" over and over into Stiles' sensitive skin.

"What's going on? Derek, talk to me," Stiles demanded, feeling completely off kilter and overwhelmed. Stuff like this didn't happen to him in real life - only in his dreams and jerk-off fantasies, and even then they weren't as intense as what was going on right now.

"Your scent," Derek said, voice so low and hazy Stiles almost didn't catch the words. "It was off, before. Always seemed slightly off to me. Muted and a little chemical. Didn't want to get my hopes up when I came downstairs and smelled it. Didn't dare to hope it really is you." He breathed in again, the air leaving Derek's mouth on a sigh. "You smell right, now. So right."

That pretty much confirmed Stiles' assumption that the Adderall had an impact on how he smelled. However, he didn't get why his meds-free scent had such an effect on Derek. And what the heck did he mean with him smelling right now? "Right?"

Derek nodded which was a little weird because Stiles felt it rather than saw it. "Mhm," Derek sighed as he dragged his nose over Stiles throat, inhaling deeply and making Stiles' breath hitch and his dick grow half-hard. "Like pine trees and lemongrass and morning dew." He pushed his nose into the hollow behind Stiles' ear, his hot breath tickling Stiles and making goose bumps break out all over his body. "You smell like home, like pack," Derek spoke so softly Stiles was sure he wouldn't have heard him, hadn't Derek's mouth been right next to his ear.

He laughed nervously, trying to dissolve some of the tension that hung in the air. "I smell like home and pack because I hang out with you guys here all the time, Derek," Stiles said, smiling self-consciously.

"No," Derek answered, and this time Stiles felt Derek's nose brush against the shell of his ear as Derek shook his head. "You smell like pack because you are."

Stiles' heart fluttered at Derek's sincere words. He'd hoped, suspected it even, but hearing it from Derek, his Alpha, was a thousand times better. "I'm pack?" Stiles asked a little breathless, still stunned.

"Mhm. Home, pack," Derek repeated and added in a quiet whisper, "mate."

"Mate?" Stiles breathed, not sure if he'd heard right or, even if he had heard correctly, if he wasn't still dreaming.

"Mate," Derek said again in a low, almost growl that had Stiles' nearly forgotten erection jump to full hardness in no time.

Stiles heard and felt Derek sharply inhale Stiles' scent that was probably spiked with so many hormones from the arousal that Stiles had absolutely no chance of holding back. A rumble left Derek's throat, doing things to Stiles' libido that he'd have to think about later.

"Let me," Derek said, moist breath against Stiles' skin, making him shiver.

He didn't really know what Derek wanted Stiles to let him do. Be Stiles' mate? Molest Stiles' sensitive neck and throat some more? It didn't really matter because there was only one answer. "Yeah."

And in just the blink of an eye, Derek plastered himself against Stiles, his warm hands slipping underneath Stiles' shirt from where they'd gripped the counter, trapping Stiles between Derek and the French toast batter. Derek's hands slowly travelled up Stiles' back before blunt nails scratched the same path back down again and hot palms came to rest flat against Stiles' back, burning their shape into his skin.

Stiles gasped in response to all the new sensations that bombarded his senses. When Derek licked a stripe up Stiles' exposed throat he couldn't contain the groan at the sudden spike of pleasure.

"Always thought it might be you," Derek mumbled, sounding wrecked and somehow lost in the moment. "You're driving me insane with all your worrying for the people you care for and your putting them before your own needs." Derek nipped the tender skin just below Stiles' ear sharply.

Without any conscious thought, Stiles tilted his head to the side to make more room for Derek, feeling both vulnerable and very powerful at the same time when it elicited a startled gasp from the Alpha.

It took Derek several seconds to collect himself enough to continue talking. "Your loyalty and your unconditional love for your dad and that idiot Scott." A soft tongue licked along Stiles' jaw that caused his knees to wobble slightly and want to pool in his belly.

"Your damned brave heart and your courage." Derek bit into Stiles' fleshy earlobe, making Stiles hiss but soothing the sting with an apologizing kiss afterwards.

"Your whit and your sarcasm and your unstoppable mouth, your delicate, breakable skin and every single one of your stupid moles." Derek placed soft kisses on various spots along Stiles' throat and jaw, spots that Stiles was relatively sure marked his moles. Stiles' heart soared at the intimate gesture.

"Your scent." The Alpha breathed in big lungfuls of Stiles, groaning. "God, Stiles, your scent. It drove me mad, so close to being perfect, to smelling like mate, but never quite right. Until now."

Then, Derek shifted against him and suddenly Stiles felt Derek's hard cock press into Stiles' hip, not far away from where his own dick was wedged between their bodies. Stiles felt strung tight, close to snapping in two but he knew that Derek would never allow it, allow him to break, both literally and figuratively speaking. They had come such a long way, been through so much together and saved each other's lives more than once and Stiles knew he'd do it all again if it led him to this moment. Derek, who was still a sourwolf most of the time but who was also so much more emotionally mature than when they had first met and who had become an awesome, caring Alpha, just meant so fucking much to him. To hear him say these things and realize that it wasn't one-sided and to actually feel the evidence just absolutely blew Stiles' mind and made him want to shout his happiness from the rooftops to let the whole world know.

He wasn't even aware that he was repeating Derek's name over and over again in between helpless moans and whimpers as thoughts and realizations ran through his head and left it just as quickly.

"Shh, I'm here, Stiles, mate," Derek soothed, licking and nipping Stiles' throat before sucking the oversensitive skin into his mouth and worrying it between his teeth.

"Oh god, Derek!" Stiles screamed at the combination of pleasure and pain. It was too much, but still not quite enough to push him over the edge.

"You smell so fucking good," Derek groaned against the tender flesh that he'd just sucked red before he sunk his human teeth into it and just bit.

And that was all it took for Stiles to let go and come into his pants, shouting Derek's name in a voice that sounded as if he'd been screaming for hours. His knees were almost giving out under him. Only Derek's strong grip on his hips held him upright. It was barely a second later that he felt Derek shudder against him as the werewolf orgasmed without any direct stimulation, just like Stiles.

Stiles was still panting and reveling in the aftershocks that rocked his body when he became aware of his trembling hands. His knuckles hurt from gripping the counter during their encounter. Knowing that he was allowed to touch, Stiles buried one hand into Derek's slightly messy bed hair and laid the other on the overly warm skin of Derek's biceps.

They stood like this for minutes, Stiles carding his fingers through the surprisingly soft strands of Derek's hair, Derek snuffling, licking and nuzzling Stiles' neck lazily. When they had both calmed down Derek lifted his head. Open, almost vulnerable, green eyes looked into Stiles' as Derek took a hesitant step back. "Stiles."

"Nuh-uh, no guilt-tripping here, Mister. I won't allow it," Stiles interrupted Derek, poking a finger into Derek's muscled chest for emphasis, before the man could even get started with a self-deprecating spiel on how he'd forced himself on Stiles and would understand if Stiles didn't want to have anything to do with him anymore. By the surprised look on Derek's face Stiles could tell that he'd been on the right track. "If you couldn't tell, Derek, I was totally on board with your little sniffing and licking fest there."

Derek groaned and rolled his eyes in exasperation. Good, that Stiles could handle and was used to. Derek's self-loathing and guilting himself, not so much.

"Seriously, dude, I totally get that you couldn't resist the ultimate, pure, unique scent of the Stiles," Stiles grinned, going for lightheartedness and exaggeration to diffuse Derek's dark thoughts. However, he had to bite his tongue pretty hard to not laugh out loud when Derek's ears turned pink. "Seriously? That's what this was? You were high on my scent? High and horny and..."

Derek's hand landed on Stiles' mouth before any more words could tumble out. "The Stiles needs to learn when best to shut up," Derek growled, the warning clear as crystal, but instead of making Stiles tremble in fear it made his pulse almost stumble over itself and his dick give an interested but feeble twitch. Derek rolled his eyes again because, of course, he had picked up on Stiles' reaction. Derek leaned forward, closing the distance between them once more, and spoke in a low voice, "And no, that's not all this was. As I said, it's you. All of you. You drive me nuts."

Stiles grinned gleefully against Derek's palm. If he hadn't been trapped between Derek's chiseled body and the counter, he'd have jumped in exuberant joy, probably in circles or eights. "But it was Eau de pure Stiles that actually triggered you into doing something about it, right?" Stiles asked once Derek's hand had released his most important weapon, not ready to let the matter go just yet.

Derek sighed, probably wondering what he'd done in a former life to deserve Stiles. "Maybe," Derek conceded finally, obviously aware that Stiles could play this game longer than Derek could.

"Definitely," Stiles still corrected him with a shit-eating grin. How his life had changed so much in the course of mere minutes Stiles couldn't even begin to grasp. He'd had a crush on Derek from the moment he'd laid eyes on the man but it had only developed into more, into deeper feelings, over the last couple of months. Sometimes, he could've sworn that Derek had looked at him in a similar way that Stiles looked at Derek. To have it confirmed that Derek had been interested in him just the same made him wish he'd forgotten his Adderall at home weeks ago. However, he couldn't really regret that it'd taken them some time to reach this point because what mattered was they finally had reached it. And while there were still a lot of things they needed to discuss and figure out, Stiles was confident that they could make it work.

Turning as serious as he could with all the happiness bubbling through him, he said, "So, okay, we have a lot to talk about, I guess."

Stiles could practically see the wariness oozing from Derek's every pore at Stiles' words. When Derek was about to distance himself from Stiles, he grabbed Derek's hands quickly and put them back onto his hips before loosely slinging his arms over Derek's shoulders. Derek just let it happen like a freaking doll. "I want you to tell me how long you've been thinking about me as your potential mate. Plus I want to know everything about mates and what it entails to be one."

When Derek opened his mouth to respond Stiles quickly continued, "You know that not telling me anything will only result in me researching the whole thing and probably coming across a whole lot of bullshit so that I will then have to bug you until you tell me everything I want to know anyway. You see, it's best to just put your big Alpha pants on and tell me now and save us both a whole lot of trouble."

Derek's left eyebrow rose to almost meet his hairline as he answered, "I wanted to say okay, Stiles."

"Oh, okay. Great," Stiles said, surprised. "Great, that's great. You know, I think you should make a habit out of that." When Derek's other eyebrow joined the first one on his forehead in question Stiles explained, "Agreeing with me. Telling me stuff. Maybe I won't even be opposed to some sniffing and nuzzling, then."

Derek's right eyebrow sank again, left one still raised, turning his expression from inquiring to skeptical.

Fascinated but also a little frustrated by Derek's ability to converse with his eyebrows alone, Stiles said, "Alright, alright. I'll most likely never be opposed to sniffing and nuzzling and anything else physical that you want to do to or with me so I give you a free pass."

"How very generous of you, Stiles," Derek responded sarcastically, but with just a hint of an amused smile.

"Well," Stiles sighed, "what can you do. That's just how I am."

For the third time that day, Derek rolled his eyes. "Stiles, shut up," he said and pulled Stiles closer, eyes trained on his mouth.

Just before their lips touched for the very first time, Stiles had to go and ruin it by scrunching up his nose and saying, "Man, my pants are so gross. Yours, too. I can feel your spunk seeping through your pants and into mine."

Derek smiled wolfishly and pressed forward a little more as if to prove a point. "Next time you'll have it on your skin without any barriers in between."

Stiles groaned, just about to complain some more or make suggestions on where exactly he'd love to feel Derek's come when Derek leaned forward and cut him off with a kiss.

Stiles figured both the mess in their pants and breakfast with the pack could wait in light of figuring out a new way of using his mouth as a weapon against a certain Alpha.