magdalyna: (Confrontation)
[personal profile] magdalyna
Title: Play Ring Around the Ambulance
Rating: R
Pairing: Derek/Stiles
Word Count:
Summary: 1,660
Warnings/Notes: Medical content, consensual cannibalism, creepiness, underage. For [profile] okubyo_kitsune A spiritual sequel to Insider and Blood & Grit and My Prometheus Lover in a series I'm calling Cannibal Glow

Derek wasn’t expecting this.

They’re rutting at the abandoned train station, cozy in Derek’s nest in what would have been an office in the back.

Derek finds rutting facing his partner a little strange, it is a human thing, not something he would want naturally. He does it because Stiles likes it. And he will admit it is easier to reach for a kiss this way, even if that is still foreign to him. But it is suddenly very useful, because he wouldn’t have seen otherwise.

Stiles is looking at him dead on when he comes, low moan ripped out of his pale, freckled throat. He’s sweaty and flushed a pleasant blotchy red high on his cheeks. Derek finds this coloring pleasing. Likes how it looks like blood on snow.

Stiles looks a little startled, his eyes wide in pleasure. It spikes Derek’s own lust, but he’s still building towards his own peak, hips slamming into Stiles.

But just at the end, when Derek feels the salt coming from Stiles, getting them sticky together between their stomachs start to ebb, Stiles’ eyes flash a brilliant fluorescent blue.

Then he goes slack, slumps against the blankets and mattress, letting Derek finish, closing his glowing blue eyes.

The surprise startles Derek into his own orgasm, mind going a little fuzzy. But he’s too keyed up to really appreciate the feeling, which is a pity.

Stiles blinks up at him, mouth an easy smile, eyes honey brown again.

Derek pulls out, lies down next to Stiles; curls their bodies together.

He doesn’t know what to do.


He’s never heard of how a human would go about becoming Turned, without getting a bite laced with intention from an Alpha. As far as he knows, it’s the only way for a human to become a wolf.

He is an Alpha. He has bitten Stiles plenty of times by now, but they never had that meaning in them. He’s been very careful to make sure his teeth have never broken skin. But maybe the mechanism is saliva? Stiles has had plenty of Derek’s in him by now. Enough to heal him. But is it enough to Turn him?

Then again, he’s never heard of a wolf eating parts of their human mate. Or the mate eating parts of their wolf.

Of course Derek would find a way to fuck up a good thing.


His wolf knows what those blue eyes meant. Flashing blue eyes are not a car or a computer chip or a gun, they are a thing of the moon, the stars, blood and dirt. His wolf does not need an interpreter to understand their significance.

Blue eyes mean wolf mean they will have a wolfmate, finally. His wolf was growing tired of the duality of eating parts of their mate, their prey.

Now that Stiles’ has flashed his eyes where the wolf can see, they long to give one last claiming, Turning bite and be done with the wait. Because the other thing the wolf knows, that they don’t need a bridge for, is that its only a matter of time before those eyes stop flashing blue at the edges of control and start to come when Stiles calls for his wolf to spring up to the surface.

Derek knew he would ruin Stiles, and he was right. His wolf does not see how that matters.


Derek has a mirror propped up in the train office, so Stiles can watch as Derek ruts him.

He’d laughed at the idea but took off his clothes readily enough, making cracks about ‘his hot bod’ as he crawled into the blankets.

Derek is leaning against the wall, Stiles in his lap facing outward. Derek rolls his hips slowly as he palms Stiles’ cock and Stiles grips Derek’s thighs for support. Derek builds his speed and begins to work his hand over Stiles in earnest, fast and slow, loose and tight until Stiles is begging. Derek nips at his throat and Stiles moans.

“Look,” Derek urges and Stiles looks right before his eyes flash the startling florescent blue as he comes all over himself with Derek following inside.

“What?” Stiles gasps, almost falling over in surprise as Derek catches him. His eyes stay blue and he turns to look at Derek, as he eases up and off of Derek.

“Why are my eyes blue?” Stiles asks, voice smooth as steel.

Derek closes his eyes. “Because my saliva wasn’t as safe for you as we thought,” Derek says in a soft voice. He waits.

Sure enough, Stiles punches him square in the jaw before yanking on his clothes and stalking out.

They’ve lost their mate and their prey and Derek knows he can blame no one for this except himself. He was the one who pounced on the boy, not the wolf. He had perfect control until the moment he didn’t.


He trains the pups. He works out. Once, on a muggy night they slip out into the woods and stalk a deer by themselves, just wolf and vessel. The raw meat from the slaughtered deer does nothing to satisfy their hunger.

Derek will always be hungry.

His wolf wants their mateprey back.

He exercises and reads and does not think about how his den is cold at night, just by themselves. Issac slinks in after a few nights of this and the wolf does not turn them away. His wolf finds comfort in the cub, first pack mate of their newest pack.

Issac looks very uncomfortable but gathers his courage one such night.

“He can’t stay away forever, can he?” Issac asks plaintively.

“He should,” Derek says and his voice is rough. “I ate his humanity away,” He continues.

“That is a terrible metaphor and I have a C- in English,” Issac wrinkles his nose.

Derek rolls his eyes. “Go to sleep,” He says. He’s not going to explain how it was the truth.


He’s exercising when he hears the Jeep rattling through the industrial district a mile off.

Stiles parks the gas guzzler and he gets out of the car, and there’s a clanging sound.

Derek waits an hour before going outside to investigate.

Stiles is sitting on the hood of his jeep, chewing on the pull cord of his red hoodie.

“’Sup? I think we should talk,” Stiles is saying and Derek would focus on his face except for how Stiles has started flicking his claws in and out of his hand.

He has claws, and it’s only been two weeks since Derek showed him, a week before that since Derek himself first saw. The full moon will be in one week. That doesn’t give them much time to prepare.

“Inside,” Derek nods to the entrance.

Stiles hops off the hood and walks past him. The wolf is perturbed, but Derek doesn’t mind the rudeness. Stiles is here, mate scent and prey scent both firmly in place.

“So I get that you literally have no idea what to do most of the time but you still could have told me lycanthropy was a possibility that could even be on the table,” Stiles says. He’s very, very calm. Derek knows that is not something he wants to be on the other end of. Nothing good comes from it.

“I thought it was the bite itself,” Derek explains. Stiles snorts. “I should have never started this, I knew I’d ruin you,” Derek is angry now.

“Oh my God, how are you more idiotic than Scott?” Stiles is holding his face with one hand, the other sort of folded to prop up the other arm.

“I knew you didn’t want the bite, and now you’re Turning.” Derek is not sure what’s happening here and the wolf is more confused, whining low at the back of their head.

“You never offered! And the Pack needs a human around to deal with the things that could, I don’t know, literally poison everyone else? Because let’s face it, with me out of commission, we’d all be dead,” Stiles says. “Besides, when Peter offered me the bite, I didn’t want him to be my Alpha. You, you I don’t mind,” he goes on.

Derek blinks. He can feel the wolf cocking its head like Stiles is a giant tortoise or something the wolf has no reference for and is desperately trying to figure out. Derek is distinctly aware of the familiarity of the feeling. Also, he would have liked to have known about that tidbit regarding his Uncle ‘offering’ the bite.

“So what I’m saying is I’m mad, but I was less mad than before and you should tell me things before they get screwed up like this,” Stiles says with finality.

“Duly noted,” Derek says, vaguely shell shocked.


“Are you sure you’re still up to it?” Derek asks. “I don’t want to hurt you,” he continues. He wants that to be clear, this time. He’s trying to use his words.

“Go for it. Please,” Stiles says, low and needy.

Derek slices open the front of Stiles’ thigh, takes out a piece almost like a cellphone, stitches it closed, licking over it to be certain.

Stiles watches him eat it right there, blood a faint trickle down his chin which Stiles kisses off, licks into his mouth when he’s done eating.


On Stiles’ first full moon, they run together in Derek’s woods and his wolf yips in joy and Derek is the happiest he has ever been. Stiles is docile, feels almost no bloodlust. He said his father was his anchor and Derek is happy that Stiles doesn’t feel the burning rage he uses to tie him to his humanity.

Stiles yips in return and sprints and scampers and they play together and fall asleep under an old snarled tree close to his burnt out house.


“Let me eat your heart,” Stiles asks.

And Derek lets him.

Stiles returns the favor later and it tastes like sunlight and love on his tongue.
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magdalyna: (Default)
And that has made all the difference.

February 2013

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