8: Heat and Fire – Part 2

The unpacking of the van hadn't been interrupted, it had all been safely stowed away near the elevator on the ground floor of the loft building. The rental had been safely returned and even the next day Derek’s rut hadn't made its appearance yet, though the symptoms intensified. Words were becoming less and less as he resorted back to his eyebrows and his grunts, a restlessness building under his skin which left him pacing the floor without being able to concentrate on anything for very long. His body was heating up, as well as his temper but they struggled through it without too many fights. Stiles seemed to realize that it was best to leave Derek to it, prodding him into eating and drinking but otherwise not demanding anything. The Hale was like a caged wolf prowling.

The day after that they did have sex a few times, but he had some of his wits about him. Some, because he had stopped wearing clothes – they made his skin itch and felt uncomfortable. Wrong. He was sweating too much for it and even simple shorts felt like wearing sandpaper. Derek isolated himself a lot, settling in a corner, watching Stiles with a predatory gaze in the green eyes. The time to himself was needed to give into the rut, clear his mind and let his bodily needs wash over him. But it wasn't a fluent change, it came and went, moments of lucidity combined with his hand on his dick to get himself off, growling at his mate to stay back for now. "Leave me be." The demand had been in a low alpha voice, only for Derek to apologize an hour later for pushing Stiles away.

It was in the middle of the night when it came on. Restless tossing at first while he burned like a furnace. Pillow and sheets had been pushed to the floor because they hurt on his skin. He woke up with this incredible need, his cock a hard throbbing instrument between his legs because he had been humping the mattress for a while now. Red eyes searched the bed, coming to rest on where his mate was, smelling like lubrication and sex already. Like his.

The alpha moved over to the human, sniffing him, smelling the joined semen on the skin, the sweat, the invitation there. He grabbed a leg to push them open, not even checking if his lover was awake or not. He was there and he was his. Only there was something blocking the entrance, something was already there, smelling like rubber and... difficulty. Enraged, he pushed at the body, as if saying: Do something. Now.

Being around an alpha wolf who was about to go into heat wasn't the easiest thing in the world. That Stiles had learned fast even with all the talks and preparations done previously. But he stayed focused on the task. Yes, he saw it as a task to help his mate. He'd do probably anything for Derek at this point and knowing (and feeling) that he was so restless and tense and not being able to help him yet was a bitter pill to swallow. Still, the young man did everything he could to make this easier for his mate. He didn't get offended when he was ordered to stay away. He tried to act normal while the hungry wolf-eyes burned holes into him. He ignored that and tried to focus on learning more useful healing spells, stocking up on the balms and making some more just to be safe. Making sure they had plenty of food for the week and checking in with his dad and Beth who was looked after by their amazing baby sitting team.

They had to isolate themselves and Stiles made sure to put his magic in good use with lining every window and door with mountain ash and newly learned wards. He checked on them in every few hours, strengthening his belief and magic in them to make sure they would hold. No supernatural being would be able to get in or out, he made sure of it.

In preparation the couch from the living area (where the bed was too for now) was replaced near the bathroom for two reasons. One, to be out of Derek's sight when Stiles was going to have to get some undisturbed sleep and healing time; and two, to be close to the bathroom where his stock of balms, potions and brews were that would help his human body heal faster. After all, while Derek was in rut, he couldn't borrow his healing. They had to wait for that once this was over. Stiles hoped he wasn't going to have to borrow too much, because that would definitely not sit well with Derek and he'd blame himself.

Either way, the human used the time while he was being just stalked by the wolf to practice his control over the magic in him, because he was sure that he was going to have to use it in case Derek would get too violent with him. And that was a valid chance. But despite that, Stiles wasn't scared of his mate, he kept his cool with the help of his mantras and also the thought that he was helping Derek. That he loved Derek. That usually did the trick, even when his mate was getting worse.

Stiles could feel it pulling on their bond so listening to that and his intuition that night before going to bed, he locked himself in the bathroom and made sure to clean and prepare himself, adding the biggest butt plug too to keep himself open when the time came.

Apparently that toy was something the wolf didn't like. Stiles' mind quickly woke up from that push against him, adrenaline starting to pump into his blood stream as his heart sped up. This was it...

"Alright, alright, I get it..." he grumbled and removed the toy, tossing it aside to make the way free. He glimpsed over his naked shoulder. The feral hunger on the alpha's face and red eyes sent a shiver down his spine and lust stabbed him in the guts. He couldn't help it. No matter how dangerous this could get, he found Derek hot like this. Maybe there really was something very wrong with him in the head... Either way, Stiles braced himself both mentally and physically and relaxed his ass as much as possible.

Had he been in his right mind, that speeding up of the heart would have made Derek pause because even in his feral state, he associated it with fear. Only right now that meant Stiles was prey to him, something he could devour if he wanted to and clearly his mate wanted him to because besides the rabbit heart, he smelled like lust as he removed the plug from his body, baring himself for the taking.

There were no fingers checking to see if Stiles was wide enough, prepared enough. Even if there hadn't been lube or a plug to prepare, he'd still be taken. Ruts usually weren't so violent, usually he wouldn't have been so deeply lost in the lust that he'd forget his surroundings. Hell ruined that with using ruts to torture him, having half a soul ruined that because it was harder to keep control over himself. When emotions became muted, not even the anchor he loved so much was enough to be able to cling to it, not when the heat pulled at him. Probably why Deaton had suggested it this way, to help Derek gain some normalcy with it so the next year it wouldn't be something to dread anymore.

The alpha pushed forward, mindlessly stabbing at Stiles with his erection to find his hole until his cock grabbed at the edge of the pucker. Target found. With the body settled on the knees, he grabbed slender hips to hoist up so he could bear down, filling Stiles up all the way with a sharp thrust. His whole body was a furnace of heat, sweat-soaked and unnatural, a human would have had seizures from such a high temperature. There was no respite once he was fully inside, the tight wetness only intensified his hunger so he started the brutal rhythm from a few days ago. There was only one goal on his mind: to knot and fill his mate up, to breed him as ruts were intended.

It didn't take long at all for him to start developing a knot but instead of waiting for it to fill up inside Stiles, he fucked him until his knot prevented him from moving away from him, whining when the pressure hurt because he was stuck, unable to get away, a load of cum shooting forth inside the tightness. It didn't do anything to calm the heat down, he only wanted more and more.

Stiles was preparing himself for this. For this feral frenzy. To the lack of tenderness and care. To the instincts to take over. So he wasn't surprised when the hard cock simply rammed into him. Yet it didn't mean that he didn't cry out and curled his hands into fists around the edge of the pillow he pulled under his head. Ass high up in the air, face pressed in said pillow.

It was rough and hard from the start on and he didn't hold back the loud sounds that it coaxed out of him. It was more intense than anything they did before and he was glad that he had prepared himself for the taking, because this was just... nearly too much. Lucky for him, his mind and body could endure and transform pain into pleasure fairly quickly. So the feral trusts helped his cock to become hard quickly from the merciless and mindless pounding of his alpha.

Because that's what Derek was at that point. His alpha, not that much of his mate. He was too gone in the rut for that. The human's mouth opened on loud groans and yells, but he took it all. Pushed his mind and body over the limits to accommodate the nearly feral wolf in him. To help on himself, he forced one of his hands to let the edge of the pillow go and wrap around his painfully hard cock. A result of the relentless attack against his prostate in that position.

His whole body was burning up, a light sheen of sweat quickly covering his glowing skin. It was insane. A rush. A fire nothing could compare to as his pair was rutting away in his abused hole. He screamed with pleasure only when the knot was pushed into him and they were locked together with a blinding pain. He felt grateful that Derek seemed to feel the same way and slowed down.

He was filling him up and up and up, coating his insides with the watery wolf cum. Stiles' hand was forced by himself to move slowly on him, not daring to come yet. Not knowing if it'd be enough for Derek once the knot went down and it was easier for him to keep himself in a constant state of arousal than coming and suffering the consequences. So he stroked himself only when he felt he needed it to help him through what was going on.

Surprisingly his magic didn't kick too much in, only making his skin glow.

It was a horrifying fact that Derek hadn't consented to them doing it like this, he had folded to keep his mate from mental harm when Stiles had insisted on doing it. But now that they were deep in rut, it became more and more a violent mindless fuck, there was no love nor care. The alpha harmed the human's body, as he had predicted he would since nothing can prepare for this. The only upside was, that he'd hopefully not remember what he did to the one he loved or he'd be consumed by guilt. This mindless beast wasn't like him. Never would he allow himself to be like that if he had anything to say about it. It was why he'd make a terrible dom in any form of BDSM scene, his limit to hurt his mate was easily reached, easier than Stiles himself probably even liked.

There were no limits now. No words of comfort, no soft laughs huffed against the pale skin as they waited out the knotting. The magic didn't caress the wolf's body, it stayed far away from him, it wasn't interested in mindless sex. Derek waited with an aggressiveness to him, even when pressed against his mate, muscles strained and tight. And as soon as the knot went down, he went back to moving, his erection not once softening. At least the jackrabbit pace of the thrusts had slowed down slightly but not much, it was still a punishing pace, going as deep as possible with slick sounds as he fucked his own cum right out of the abused entrance.

It created wet slapping sounds, the human's pained grunts not slowing him down, weren't going to slow him down for a while unless Stiles would stop him. It was a relentless force, a constant of knotting and fucking, the only pauses came when they were tied by the knot, a pause of about 15 minutes before Derek was moving again, as if the orgasms didn't do anything but fuel him on to breed more.

After the first round Stiles' mouth was already dry like the desert, voice hoarse from all the panting and yelling. Although the loft was situated in the more deserted industrial part of town with not many living around, he blessed his own mind for adding a rune to the protection that would muffle their sounds. After all, even if his dad knew not to disturb them during this week (and oh boy, how many details Stiles had omitted when reassuring that he was going to be fine with Derek during his rut!), it wouldn't be lucky for the police to show up and interrupt them. Stiles didn't even want to think about the consequences. A feral in-rut wolf running around Beacon Hills was probably not a good way for Derek to wash off the "resident criminal" title the people seemed to have associated him with (yeah, that was partly Scott's fault). He was sure that if someone had heard them, they would think someone was being murdered. Even Stiles got surprised what kind of sounds the alpha was coaxing out of him.

During the second round his muscles started trembling and he ignored the excessive wetness between his legs and under him. He'd found and bought quite a few sheets that had a rubber underside so they wouldn't have to throw the mattress out later. He wondered how long they would last with werewolf claws. He occupied his mind with such thoughts and focused on his breathing while Derek was filling him up for the second time, locked together once more.

Frankly, Stiles had thought (hoped?) that the orgasms would start to tire Derek out, but that didn't seem to be the case (aside from the pace slowing somewhat). They just urged him on, the cock never softening in him. But for now he was taking it, breathing through the slowly growing pains not just in his ass but in his muscles too. At least he was still hard, hand slick with the prostrate fluid Derek literally fucked out of him. But it was getting painful and he knew he couldn't keep himself on the edge for long. Soon he'd have to come and Stiles knew that it'd mean that he'll have to stop the wolf then because it'd get too sensitive and painful for him to bear another knotting. So he concentrated on the wolf and himself, knowing that timing was key this time.

Derek was right. Although to some point the druid was enjoying this frantic and chaotic situation, it was nothing like when Derek was himself. The bonds were still between them, yes. Through that Stiles' body felt the need to rut and come too. He could feel the seemingly insatiable fire burning his mate from the inside out. It was like wildfire, destroying everything in its path to reach its goal. And that goal was days away. That thought nearly made Stiles panic, but he pushed that down. He was helping Derek. And he was going to stop him soon. At least he didn't try to scratch or bite him yet – probably too lost in the rut and focusing mainly on the hole he could rut in.

Because that's all Stiles was for him now. He could feel it and he knew it was just the rut, but that thought left a slight bitter taste in the human's mouth and made Derek feel so distant. It was nearly as if a stranger was using his body, not his mate. That was probably the reason why his magic wasn't connecting. Why it felt nearly... defensive. As if ready to step in to protect its main host. And the young mage had no doubt it is going to do exactly that, if necessary.

There had been two times where Derek had knotted, but he couldn't keep track of anything anymore. Not of the hoarse screams, not of the way his mate's emotions changed, not of anything but the need to get off. Often he had spent his ruts alone, by himself, away from people but they had never been as intense before Hell. Uncomfortable to be alone during them, because a fist or a dildo wasn't the same as the real thing, and even though he had enough control not to be a danger to anybody, he had never wanted to share them. It required trust, something only a few had in the past. Very few. The years in Beacon Hills nobody had known he even had them, he so often disappeared for days or weeks so it wasn't noticed he would do that in January. They had chalked it up to him avoiding Holidays and that had been fine by him. It was too personal to share.

Right now he was in beta shift, matching the violence he felt. His mind wasn't in the now, it remembered all the times in Hell where he had been chained up, left to suffer, left to rot. The only comfort had been the fact that nobody had taken advantage of him in his severely needy state, no, he had been pointedly ignored so he couldn't even beg for a fuck. The ruts had been magically induced, in a way that had made them too intense. And this, right now, this was the result of years of abuse.

It was a miserable start for them both, nothing helped to chase away the heat. It felt like if he were to exhale loudly, fire would erupt from his mouth as if he had turned into a dragon; like if he glared too hard, lasers were going to shoot from his eyes, that's what it felt like to be boiling with need. Deep down he knew he didn't want to burn his partner, deep down the sense of love was still there, buried under all that fire. With a snarl, another knot popped, it was painful for them both in this rapid succession. There was nothing pleasant about the way his strained cock shot off another round of semen in the abraded hole, it might as well have been lava, because that's how it felt.

Growling, the beta shift had receded as he panted, waiting for them to not be connected together. Everything was soaked with his semen, drowning out all other scents.

Derek was in such a need that it translated more to pain to Stiles. He could feel it. It bled through more and more in the connection between them. Even with closed eyes he could see glimpses of the love he knew Derek had for him, but that hot mass of need overflowed it too much. It broke Stiles' heart to feel Derek like this. To understand more just what he had to endure. He saw flashes of his memories. Pictures of his torture in Hell. This... this was nothing compared to that. Derek had endured so, so much worse than what Stiles was doing for him and he cursed himself for the weakness of his body. Even with the potions he drank before bed to help his muscles relax and heal faster. He wanted to help more, but he couldn't... He just couldn't give more...

He came with Derek this time. No pleasure found there aside from a flicker of it. It was more painful on both ends. His breathing was shallow, body glistening from sweat and cum and face flushed and wet from tears. He wasn't crying because of himself. He was crying for what he saw and felt from Derek.

Stiles was grateful for the opportunity to catch his breath, silent tears wetting the pillow under his head. The idea of another round made him unwittingly clench around Derek, making him gasp from the sharp pain. He ignored the warning growl and focused on his breathing not to let it get shallower. He had to be stronger. If not physically then mentally. He couldn't give in to the building panic. But he cannot take another round. His ass was already burning up. Blinking his eyes open, he realized that it's been hours already. And although Derek probably didn't feel like that about himself, they both needed a few hours long break. Stiles definitely did.

So when the knot finally slipped free, Stiles' trembling body pushed against the heavy (and fucking hot) one. Of course, he got a disapproving growl, but he didn't give up just kept squirming out from under Derek. Unsurprisingly, he was roughly pulled back by his waist, claws scratching the top layer of his skin.

"No, Derek. We need a break. No clawing," he said, not really thinking that the alpha would understand. He too said it before that he probably wouldn't understand why his mate would want to refuse him. Obviously that didn't sit well with the in-heat wolf and Stiles had to use more force. "Please don't make me do this..." he whispered more to himself when he found himself pinned against the mattress again. But clearly he had no choice because Derek wouldn't stop. So ignoring the sharp short stabs of pain in his ass or the big amount of semen rushing out of him from the moving around, he somehow managed to turn on his back and his right hand shot up to slap against the snarling wolf's forehead. Stiles' teary and glowing eyes snapped shut as he visualized the sleep rune in his mind and uttered the word to activate it.

The next moment his magic was too eager to help 'remove the threat' and it shot out through his glowing palm, essentially knocking Derek out cold. "Shit..." Stiles mumbled, lifting his head to check on him. He was fine. Just sleeping. "Fuck..." The emissary's head dropped back on the bed and he let his breathing even out. He knew he didn't have the luxury to fall asleep right on the spot and his mind and body were reeling too much for that anyway. But he gave himself a few minutes, hoping that the spell will work on Derek for a couple of hours so he could rest and heal up too. Though that required him to get up, drink some water, clean up, apply the balms, drink more healing potions and curl up on the couch.

It was going to be a long (and lonely) week. He understood that now as he forced himself up and dropped a mountain ash circle around the bed to do the aftercare himself.

***

For hours the downed wolf didn't stir, perhaps the magic sensing Stiles needed time to himself without having to deal with Derek. He remained where he had been dropped on the bed, the only indication he was even still alive was the constant rise and fall of his chest while the rest of him didn't even twitch once. It was a heavy spell to wake up from, gradually wearing off so it started with blinking his eyelids, stirring of his body. It was slow, it wasn't even actually being awake until another hour later.

He was quiet, not uttering a word, the sheets smelling of sex enough at first to satiate the heat of his body. He didn't even attempt to leave the bed. Derek could smell the mountain ash, and didn't feel like trying how far its reach was when the bed itself was safe. It didn't feel good to be trapped inside like that, he didn't understand why because the bed smelled like mate and sex but he was alone. Rolling around in the sheets, he attempted to get as much of the scents as possible, until it became unbearable.

There was no attempt to call out to Stiles, or any other form of communication, his world was too limited to realize what was going on, lacked the capability to oversee the situation. To him, the bed was empty so he was alone. Always alone. Feverish hands ran along his own body, hand wrapped around his aching cock to give it some form of friction. Hips trusted upwards obscenely, fucking into his own fist. At first it was to attempt to douse the need, instinctively knowing how to pleasure himself. But then he realized there actually was somebody there and his entire body became aware of the potential of having more than his own hand, of seeking more than this inadequate way to get off.

Covered in sweat and semen, the Hale's muscular body stretched out in a long line of tanned skin, flexing and moving, as if he was dancing in bed. It was to roll onto his stomach so he could spread his legs and put himself even more on display. With a whine he presented to beckon who was watching to come closer.

Stiles' sleep was fitful and shallow, not being able to fully relax from the situation, although the potions and balms seemed to work nicely while he was resting. By the time he stirred from soft whining, they reduced the pain to soreness. Thank fuck for druids and magic, because otherwise he wouldn't be able to bear the whole week in one piece.

The whining repeated, this time more desperate and as Stiles finally blinked his eyes open, he realized that he could feel Derek's emotions again. The bond was too strong and his own soul and magic too entwined with the wolf's soul not to. Plus despite the situation – or exactly because of that – Stiles would never attempt to close out Derek in order to shun these feelings. He remembered all too well how it felt when Derek did close Stiles out that one time in the animal clinic when the inexperienced mage was so much more unstable.

With an inaudible sigh, Stiles tried out his limbs. The rest did good to them, they weren't burning or aching, they just felt a bit heavier than usual. Even the light scratch marks on his sides faded somewhat. His ass was okay too. It felt a bit sore but otherwise he was probably good to go for one more round if it came to that. But the sight that welcomed him indicated otherwise.

The naked lean man stopped around the corner, the sun's last red and orange burst of colors painting Derek's glistening body into an even more inviting vision. This time Stiles did gasp audibly as he was standing there, eyes following the dips and curves of his naked mate, the inviting pose and round butt which was presented to him so openly. Derek smelled like sex and desire and need. Stiles could smell it even from where he was standing, one already lubed up hand on his hardening cock to stroke it into a full erection.

He knew Derek was still in heat, but he couldn't resist the sight. He also had the suspicion that he'd have to fight for the privilege to fuck that gorgeous piece of alpha butt, but he was willing to take the risk. So as he focused his magic more into his limbs to add some more strength to them (a neat little trick he cooked up and tried out on a smaller scale before falling asleep), he watched the wolf rubbing against the stained sheet. There was no doubt in Stiles' mind that he was painfully hard again.

Then he walked over to the edge of the circle, but instead of breaking it, he simply stepped inside – just in case he needed a quick retreat for some reason. After all, the beast on the bed could easily hurt Stiles – if he let him. He let his glistening cock go as he focused on every move and sound Derek made and crawled closer, grabbing and pulling on an ass cheek firmly to signal his intentions.

Derek had felt the other inch closer and closer, so he bowed his head, half tilted to closely listen to the sounds made, anticipating the moves. The bed dipped from the added weight, a hand grabbed at a cheek firmly to open his hole up more and that's when he struck. Reaching for that hand, he slapped it away, grabbing the wrist of the other hand so he could pull the other with him when he rolled. It wasn't rough, not for werewolf standards, the hand on the wrist wasn't to bruise but to keep him there. It was playful almost, as if it was a challenge he was attempting to see where it would go.

Manhandling the body, the wolf came out on top, straddling him. The eyes weren't red, the claws weren't out. The body was heated still, though, feverish, his erection almost looking painful with the dark red, almost purple color. All the orgasms hadn't tired the body out yet, he was still fully functioning on the needs he felt, the lust overpowering.

The human's body smelled like magic and potions, healing salves. It radiated pain and discomfort, which wasn't all that inviting for him at the moment. Another whine made itself known, it was probably as close to an apology as Stiles was going to get today. Inhaling deeply, he pressed his face against the naked chest, nuzzling, exploring, licking. It's not a tactic to get Stiles aroused, he's already aroused, the erection is pressing against Derek's body. He wants to taste his mate, wants to make sure he smells like him, to make him his with his tongue.

With a wriggle, the wolf slowly made his way back between the other's legs, where he knew the warm wet hole was to plunge inside. As muddled as his brain was, it certainly knew how to distract and seduce into getting his way.

Frankly, Stiles had expected such a literal turn of events. He was grateful that the fangs and claws weren't out so he didn't need to be careful about them for now. Only about the not vice-like but firm grip around his wrists. He rolled with Derek to avoid further injuries and stared back up at him. Green yet just as feral eyes looked back at him as if they were red. If Stiles had more time, he'd have analyzed that look out some more. How it was the eyes of an apex predator. How they were still too intelligent for an animal, but because of the instincts which took over, looking more like that. Still... that whine sounded and felt a lot like an apology and for a moment Stiles' defenses lowered.

Of course, the cunning wolf used that to his own advantage and started licking him. And Stiles let him, enjoying the gentler treatment for a moment because he knew those were going to be rare and far in-between. But when Derek got too close to his ass, he wriggled away and strained against the hands holding him down.

"No-no, big guy... Not this time. It's my turn. Now you're going to be mine," he grunted, voice still hoarse and his wrists began warming up with an amber glow, the scent of ozone crackling around them. Stiles could feel the magic building in him, concentrating into his arms and legs, lighting up his veins as he visualized being able to match the strength of the arms holding him down.

Stiles steadied his breathing and then suddenly moved. For a split second he couldn't believe that it actually worked and he was free, but then he had to wrestle down and pin a wolf against the bed. Which – with some difficulty – he did and ended up the one straddling Derek, wrists pinned down. Stiles got a bit out of breath just from these moves due to his muscles protesting and controlling his magic, releasing some more so he could keep Derek's hand against the bed. He knew that would work at least since he did that before.

There was a growl when Stiles moved away, because that hadn't been the right move to be making. The words held very little meaning, not what his attention was focused on when there was a strange scent of ozone in the air, like electricity was building. Something bad was about to happen, he did realize that much at the thick heavy tension coiling in the air. It made him still, uncertain, since this wasn't supposed to be part of mating. The wrists he was holding were warming up, heating under his hands as if the human was about to go into rut himself.

And then the other broke free, making him growl louder. His challenge had been received and met, just as he had playfully attempted to so they could battle it out for dominance. The scuffle didn't last long at all, the younger man had more strength over him and in a baffling turn of events, Derek found himself flat on his back with Stiles over him, pressing him down.

To avoid too much struggling and protesting, Stiles moved quickly and slid lower, pushing the muscular legs apart an up so his lubed up cock could rub against the entrance. He knew there was no time for more preparation and that Derek would heal fast, so he began pushing, gritting his teeth together, one hand letting a thigh go to steady his own cock. Wrecked sounds slipped past his lips as it was so damn intense, but he knew he had to give something to his mate, so he rammed the remaining few inches in, panting and shuddering from the nearly too hot tightness around him.

Derek hadn't made it easy, he had struggled and bucked until the very last second, until he realized he really couldn't win this round. His hands were pinned together, kept there so his legs could be pushed apart, an erection against his hole before he could even snarl again.

It ruthlessly plowed inside, everything too dry and tight, but how he loved the pain! It sent stabs up his spine in a reminder he had been bested and the winner took it all. Derek wanted it to hurt, wanted it to be as violent as he had taken it earlier. A choked up moan left him, his legs spreading more without it needing prompting as he angled his head back.

It was an offering of throat, to be bitten, to claim the taken dominance. His hips pushed up, wanting to get a pace going, to be taken fully. The thick erection hadn't gone down either, it was leaking pre-cum onto his rippling stomach from the inner stimulant, the way the stiff rod pressed against his walls.

"M-move." Talking was hard, talking was near impossible. The word had to be dragged from within to even make sense. They were garbled and guttural.

Stiles expected more resistance to come, but Derek seemed to accept his dominance over him and he knew he had to ride that out to fully win this round and spare himself another knotting he wasn't sure he'd be able to take right now. The guttural word surprised him, though, just as much as the offered throat. He understood the significance and symbolism of both. Derek talking even so deep in heat was something he didn't expect. That's why he did move. His hips pulled back and pushed right back in with a strangled sound. It was too much of a drag, too much heat, too much everything, but he did it anyway. He did it for both of them and his pre-cum and the lube made the slide easier. He could also feel Derek's body opening up for him with each thrust so he kept going.

His slimmer body draped over the wolf's, back lit up in amber by the life tree tattoo since he kept pushing his magic into the hold over his mate, his hands free to lean onto next to Derek's shoulders. His teeth dug deeply into the offered throat, wanting that submission and need for him despite the situation – or probably more from exactly that.

Stiles opened himself up, letting the wolf's need and emotions wash over him, making him move rougher and faster both to please Derek (also an attempt to sate the burning heat in him) and to work out some of his own frustrations too.

The magic still refused to do anything but to keep Derek down, they shared a bond but they were almost connected one-sided because Stiles could feel Derek but the wolf wasn't capable of understanding. The emotions he felt were overpowered by the need for mating, love and compassion, all was gone because of the fever wrecking his body which in turn made him wreck Stiles. He wanted sex, didn't care what kind of sex as long as he got a way to get off. So he gave into being dominated to get what he could.

As the blunt human teeth wrapped around his throat to dig in, the wolf moaned loudly, enjoying the damaging of his skin even though it barely lasted for minutes. Stiles moved fast and rough, like he wanted to fuck the fire right out of Derek in the same manner the older man had taken him. It was only fair enough, especially considering he was going to heal the moment the erection wasn't impaled inside of him anymore. Not once did he attempt to bite or claw the other, he was just taking what he was getting with snarls and eager body thrusts. Encouraging the roughness and wanting more of it.

An orgasm washed over him, without knotting this time, and his erection did go down somewhat, the many orgasms over the day at least dulling the fire slightly. It was still not enough, still wanted Stiles to keep on going and keep on fucking him for as long as possible.

The cum that splashed against his stomach did little to Stiles right now. Usually he'd get more turned on by that, but this time he was focusing on sating Derek as much as possible. Although he was starting to realize that it was probably not going to get better until the heat had run its course. But he had to stay strong, keep going like a machine. To give his mate what he needed so desperately.

It was difficult despite the fact that he was still hard, his body reacting to the constant friction against his aching cock. He fucked Derek through that orgasm and continued with his trusts because he could feel that the wolf needed it. He'd go until it gets too painful. Stiles didn't even care anymore if he came or not. He had to focus on Derek and the magic that kept him pinned to the bed.

He never had a lover with whom he didn't have some kind of emotional connection. Yes, he had some one-night-stands, but even then there was some kind of emotions involved. Now this was just about fucking. Which stood in sharp contrast with what he normally shared with Derek during their times together. It left him a bit hollower with each passing hour. (Maybe that feeling was feeding on the darkness of the Nemeton too. Maybe not. Stiles was currently too busy to check.)

The human's trembling and sweaty body was determined to coax at least one more orgasm out of Derek before retreating for the night. For a few hours he... couldn't stand the idea of doing this again. But he will, if he has to.

His own release that followed Derek's brought little relief to the exhausted human who was reeking of sex and Derek. He wanted to fall asleep on top of him, but he was too weary of Derek exploiting the situation so he kept his magical hold on his mate and got off him, only to shortly return with a plastic bottle with a light green colored liquid in it. He made Derek drink some of it both to hydrate the other man and to help him fall asleep to get some rest so Stiles could also clean him up somewhat before he was going to faint into sleep himself.

The one-sided care left a bitter hollow kind of tension in the air, souring what they had been working on building for the past months since they’ve been together. The strength in their bond had been based on love, and it had been hard enough to deal with Stiles' newfound magic and Derek's half-soul, combined with their troubled past. This rut complicated it even more, made it seem like it was nothing but a couple of bodies having sex together. Rough, uncontrolled sex.

Still reeling from his orgasms, the wolf had no choice but to drink what was pressed against his lips. Stiles didn't bother offering him the bottle nor asked for him to drink it, the human knew it was going to be useless. It was laced with herbs to make him pass out, and it was the wisest decision Stiles could make right now. They had talked about the possibility of the human not being able to keep up with the rut. Derek had told him that if he needed it, he could keep the Hale under for the rest of the rut remaining if it came to that. Deep down he had known it was going to be way harder than his mate was anticipating it to be, considering that they both weren't into mindless sex at all.

The fluid worked its way into his body, knocking him out swiftly. Eating and drinking little was a good thing this week, it would weaken the heat plaguing his body because his system had to focus on maintaining its health as well. Werewolves could do without food and water far longer than humans, there was no danger for him this week. They had food ready to be made for when the fever broke to kick start his healing afterwards.

No, this week wasn't that rough on Derek, it was going to be rough for Stiles. He'd remember it all, he had to care for the feral alpha and had nobody around. It was painful and lonely, and it was exactly why Derek had been adamant not to do this. The Hale wouldn't remember much either way.

Next part

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