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It took hours to get home, slogging through the woods and exhausted. He spent most of the time lost, wandering through the trees in circles and trying to get his bearings before finally catching the faint sounds of cars and following it back to the quiet road that led back to town. His suit was ruined, his head rang with the lasting echoes of his alpha’s roar and every sound caused him to jump, expecting hunters in every shadow. How could it have all gone so wrong? It had been perfect, the night was everything he ever hoped it would be. Scott had been so sure the alpha was gone and now he was once again clawing through the boy’s thoughts while the hunters knew who he was.
He was going to die. He was honestly going to die.
Scott needed to get to Derek and warn him, but his phone was missing and there was nothing to do but try to get back to his house. And Stiles…he hoped the boy would be able to forgive him. They’d come so far, tonight was supposed to be their chance to start over without all of his mistakes hovering over their heads and he’d ruined it again. He couldn’t be human, he was just a monster pretending that he could be safe and normal. It was only a matter of time before he hurt someone else and Scott was terrified that next time, it would be Stiles.
His mother hadn’t waited up. The boy wasn’t sure if she was working tonight or if she just assumed he’d be out all night with Stiles. Getting into trouble. Relearning how to fit together like they used to. Watching the sun come up before finally going home. All of his plans…
Opening the door seemed to be an impossibility as his hands shook too hard to fit the key into the lock. Climbing up the stairs to his room was an overwhelming endeavor. Call Derek, call Stiles, lock the doors and try to sleep. It would all be okay when the sun came up, right? Scott closed the door to his room, leaning against it with a ragged sigh. Motion in the darkness sent a wave of panic through him and the wolf snarled. “Who’s there?”
___
The Alpha’s voice stabbed straight through Stiles’ skull, every word sharp enough to draw blood. They stuck in the soft matter of his brain, and left everything he had sliced open and vulnerable.
"I’m not the bad guy here, Stiles."
Those eyes - he understood now, why Scott said they were the only thing he remembered. They looked like they were made of fire. He didn’t know where they were now, couldn’t care that a Hunter was probably on the same block, couldn’t care about anything. The Alpha’s promises held poison, but Stiles wanted nothing more than to succumb.
"You know why I’m doing what I have to. You figured it out. I’m just… Righting a few wrongs. There are monsters in this world, Stiles. You know all about them." Stiles was shaking. For the life of him, he couldn’t control it.
But he believed.
There were monsters. Monsters this world would never know. “You just need the power to stop them, Stiles. You can’t do this on your own. You can’t save Scott like this, and that’s all you want, right? I can help you. I can show you real power.”
You’re stronger than he is. He didn’t know what he was getting into. He couldn’t control himself. He needs you. He loves you. He wanted to help Scott. He wanted to save him. He’ll never leave you.
When everything around him crashed, Stiles didn’t realize he’d screamed. Then he was running, or had he always been running? Stiles didn’t care. The power coursed through him, sharp and pointed, his mind spinning and far heavier than if it just contained his thoughts. His blood painted his shirt red, but Stiles couldn’t feel anything but the wind in his face and the strength pulsing under his skin. Something pushed him forward. He wasn’t allowed to feel fatigue. But Stiles didn’t have time for that when everything felt so sharp.
Scott’s room was shrouded in darkness, but breaking in had never been so easy. Stiles had precedent, but for maybe the first time in his life, it felt like he could sit still. He could hear it, the exhausted drag of Scott’s footsteps, his tired breathes, the uneven beat of his tender heart.
Stiles was sorry for him. Stiles had never felt so good.
"Took you long enough to get home," Stiles whispered, but he’d already crossed the room. It was too easy to wrap his arms around Scott’s frame. Stiles couldn’t miss everything that changed when this stayed the same.
He pulled Scott against him, reveling at how easy he was to hold, before nuzzling close. Scott smelled like the forest, like pine leaves and freshly mowed grass, and Stiles kissed his throat, leaving a mark they could both sense now.
"I’ve got you." He promised, slowly walking Scott towards his washroom. "It’s okay Scott, everything will be okay. I’ll take care of it."
___
“Stiles!” Relief swept the fear away as he pulled the other boy in close, holding on to keep Stiles from disappearing. “I’m sorry.” The words tumbled from his mouth in a rush. “I couldn’t stop it, I’m so sorry. Tell me I didn’t hurt anyone, please. I didn’t mean to.” He pawed at Stiles, hooking his fingers into the boy’s clothes and letting himself be led into the bathroom.
They were safe. However their perfect night had been ruined, they were both safe now. It might be a lie with werewolves and hunters lurking right outside their door, but Scott felt himself relaxing slightly under Stiles’s hands. Everything will be okay. Somehow, if Stiles said the words, he could make himself believe.
Scott sat on the edge of the bathtub with a sigh, bowing his head and exhausted. The last time he’d been like this, blood had pooled around his feet and Stiles could barely look at him. He’d been so sure that he had control and he could be a normal kid again, but now he was right back where he started. Scott shivered, curling his fingers into his palms and praying that he’d managed to keep from killing anyone. There was too much death weighing on him, it was impossible to cling to his humanity when he could see their faces every time he closed his eyes.
He looked up with a sigh, freezing in shock at the blood stained across Stiles’s once perfect shirt. With a strangled wail, he ran frantic hands over the boy’s body, searching for the wounds. “What the hell happened?! Are you okay? Where are you hurt? I can call my mom o-or an ambulance. I can get you to the hospital. I can’t find my phone, let me get to the landline a-and I’ll get help. Just hang on, I’ll get someone!”
___
Stiles silenced him with a kiss.
He tugged on Scott’s floppy hair, forcing his head back as Stiles kneed between his legs. His poor, precious Scott was scared and exhausted, but Stiles was going to fix it. They were going to be okay. Stiles would make all this go away.
"Hey," he protested, resting his forehead against Scott’s, breathing in his scent. His heart was beating rabbit-fast, frantic with fear, so loud it could deafen Stiles, but he wanted to reach out to soothe it. He caught Scott’s hands, guiding them to the front of his shirt. He coaxed him into undoing his buttons. His tie was forgotten somewhere on school grounds. Stiles returned the favor. They were going to be okay.
"You’re safe Scott… You’re a good guy. You didn’t hurt anyone wrong." He murmured, slowly kissing his way up Scott’s jaw. Every brush of skin sent shivers up his spine. His mind was used to seeing a thousand things at once, feeling a million more. That had all changed tonight. So many distractions had been weeded away, but the ones that were left were so harsh they threatened to burn him. Stiles couldn’t care, not when Scott tasted so good.
He explored Scott with his mouth, stripping him slowly. He never took his hands off his prize, even as he reached behind him to turn on the shower.
"All I wanted tonight was to kiss you stupid," he confessed, following the line of Scott’s pulse down his throat. Too sharp teeth dragged over tanned skin, and Stiles wanted so much more. "I don’t dance, but I wanted to dance with you. Wanted to see you smile when I told you."
He pulled back, just a little, making good on his word. “I love you.”
Stiles’ expression was hopelessly fond. He started to fret over the dirt that smudged his partner’s cheeks. “You lost your crown, dude…”
Stiles didn’t know his eyes were glowing, or that they’d gone far brighter than amber.
___
Scott lost himself in Stiles’s reassurances, licking past his lips with a soft whine. His fingers fumbled over the buttons and he mentally berated himself for the way his hands shook. Fingertips traced over smooth unbroken skin, hard muscle moving beneath his hands and he tightened his grip. Stiles wasn’t hurt! He was okay, the tensed knot of panic slowly started to uncurl.
He nodded, grateful that no one else had ended up on the wrong end of his claws tonight. It had been a close call, the thundering commands had forced the change from him but he didn’t let the alpha use him as a weapon. It was a small success, one more step in fighting for control of his own mind and Scott clung to the victory. He was not a killer no matter what the alpha had made him to. He could fight back, he could resist.
The wolf groaned, surrendering to Stiles’s touch and fitting the boy’s body between his legs. Scott tipped his head back, eyes closed as he was stripped without complaint. “You don’t dance.” He agreed quietly with a faint smile. “It was pretty embarrassing, dude. I had to dance just as bad as you to cover up for it.” The smile finally broke through, not even the threat of death able to take away from the awestruck wonder of those words. Stiles loved him. Still loved him. They’d found a way to bridge those rifts and heal the wounds between them, Stiles said the words and his heart beat steady with the truth.
“Don’t need a crown.” Scott said, blinking open his eyes and ready to pour his heart out in embarrassing detail. “I…no! Oh no….no, Stiles!” The words died before they could escape. His jaw dropped, eyes wide and full of fear as Scott stared at Stiles, stricken. Trembling hands cupped his friend’s face as the entire world shifted sideways. “What did he do to you?” Stiles looked back with monster’s eyes and it terrified him.
____
Scott was so worried for him. Stiles loved him. He loved him so much, and that was how Stiles knew he’d made the right choice. He’d protect him. He would keep him safe. They’d leveled the playing field. Stiles understood now, why they’d been struggling so hard to try and help Scott transition into his new life. They’d been doing it the wrong way, all this time, but Stiles could make it up to him. All Scott needed to do was let Stiles take the reins again, and everything would fall back into place. Stiles knew it.
"Shh… I’ve got you. It’s okay. We’ll be okay," Stiles repeated, gently wriggling his way out of Scott’s grip so he could pepper kisses across his slack mouth. Scott was his, all his, and it was wonderful.
"Lemme take care of you, dude," he insisted, wrapping his arms around Scott. The first time they’d ever did this, fooling around in the bathtub, they’d made such horrible broken hip jokes, and Stiles snaked his grip up Scott’s spine to ruffle Scott’s hair now, snickering at the idea of concussions. "We don’t have much time, but everything’s gonna work out. Screw this, I’m gonna get you a crown, if I have to steal the one off Lydia’s strawberry blonde head."
___
He was too stunned to resist, folding himself against his friend with a quiet sob. No! How had this happened? The alpha had a list, he wanted revenge and Stiles had nothing to do with it. Derek had warned him to stay away but he failed and now his best friend had paid the price. The bite was a curse, it brought nothing but misery and now Stiles’s eyes shone with the same feral light that Scott feared whenever he saw his own reflection. This was his fault, he’d let this happen. He should have been there to protect him.
“Stop, Stiles!” He pulled back, hands curling around the other boy’s shoulders. “This isn’t okay, how can you even say that? This wasn’t supposed to happen to you, I wasn’t supposed to let this happen. I didn’t mean for any of this. How the hell are you so calm about it?” Scott’s own eyes flared bright blue with his distress, heart beating too fast and rage surging through his veins. The alpha had done this. That creature had turned him into a killer, stolen away his humanity and infected his friend with the same uncontrolled monster. He needed to be stopped, whatever it took. There had to be a cure somehow.
“We need Derek. I have to warn him, he’ll know what to do. I’m sorry…I shouldn’t have ever let him touch you. I don’t care what it takes, I’ll find a way to fix it. Just let me call him and he’ll help.”
___
"Scott-" Stiles rasped, slurring out the name as fangs poked out behind his lips. A guttural growl echoed through his throat, body reacting on instinct to his mate. His prize. This was what he was promised, this beautiful, dear boy, his to mark, his to claim. It would work. Stiles would have him, and then he’d cut out their Alpha. Generous he might have been, but Stiles was selfish. Jackson had never let him be, but Jackson was gone now, and Stiles wanted.
His hands were twisted, halfway transformed into claws. On Scott’s skin, they were gentle. He curled his fingers around Scott’s throat, and pulled him closer, slotting their mouths together like an apology. Scott didn’t understand. Stiles should have explained everything first, but he tasted so good.
"You got it all wrong, dude. We’re all on the same side. We’re gonna find Derek." Stiles said, speaking slowly like he was afraid of scaring his best friend. His fangs cut his lips on the wrong words, but they healed quickly. "He’s in trouble, and we’re going to set this right. I found him. The Alpha showed me. Who knew that dinosaur had a phone?”
He dragged his claws down Scott’s back, dimpling blood where he held on too tight, but the wounds healed quickly.
"Trust me, Scott. I know I should have trusted you, but I can make things right."
___
“No.” He gasped, arching under Stiles’s claws. His mouth tasted like metal, but he couldn’t stop himself from responding to the other boy…the other wolf’s kiss. His beast rose in response, scratching along the inside of his skin and begging to be set free. This was wrong but part of him wanted to drag Stiles down with a grown and see just how much it took to bruise that pale skin.
We’re all on the same side. “N-no!” Scott repeated with more force, putting his hands on Stiles’s chest and shoving hard. “Are you kidding me? Stiles, he took over my head. He made me kill people. I’m a fucking murderer because of him, how can you think we’re on the same side? Derek was right, we need to find the alpha and stop him. The longer we wait, the more people are going to die. If I’d been able to fight him sooner then….” The boy moved like he wanted to reach for his friend, hesitating. “Then I would have been able to save you.”
Scott tried to slow his racing heart, taking deep breaths and working to calm himself. He knew what it felt like to lose yourself, he had to stay in control for Stiles’s sake. Someone needed to hold on to being human. “I trust you, Stiles, but you need to take a breath. We can’t trust him, okay? I know it feels good what he did to you, but you have to fight it. This isn’t you.”
___
"Derek can’t help us they have him!" Stiles snarled, in one long exhale. He was trying to find his footing, gripping the edge of the sink as he righted his posture. Long claws tapped against ceramic. "You don’t understand. He wants to save Derek. He wants to help all of us."
And Stiles shouldn’t have cared. If he could, he would have taken the power, and staked his claim. Stiles just wasn’t thinking straight. Someone else was thinking for him.
The other wolf was aggravated, challenging. Stiles wanted to put him in his place. He belonged to Stiles. The aggression made that certainty all the sweeter.
"You only hurt the ones who deserved it," Stiles howled. He took Scott by the hand, spun him around and pinned him to the wall. The towel bar cracked against his back, falling to the ground. "They were monsters, all of them. I don’t need you to save me. I need you to fight with me! We’re almost done. We can finish this! We’ll destroy them for what they’ve done to us!”
___
As exhausted as he was, he was on his feet as soon as Stiles moved. He was glad he’d closed the bedroom door behind himself, the delay giving him the precious half-second he needed to collide into the other boy and send them both toppling to the ground. Scott pinned him, though the werewolf strength didn’t seem to mean as much against another wolf, holding on as tightly as he could to keep Stiles from wriggling out of his grasp.
“I’m not letting you go!”
If the alpha was pulling apart Stiles’s thoughts, who knew what would happen if he left. Scott was not going to let his friend become a killer too, he could carry that burden alone for the rest of his life. No matter what Scott did from now on or how he tried to be a better person or how many people he helped, the words ‘and a murderer’ would always follow on his description. There was no coming back from that, there shouldn’t be any coming back from that, and he was going to shoulder this alone. No one else died if he could help it, least of all by Stiles’s hand.
“Stop fighting me, you asshole! I’m not letting you run.” Damnit, he couldn’t use the mountain ash on his own and now that Stiles had been turned, they were stuck. “Will you just stop already?! I love you!”
___
Stiles was terrified. He swiped at Scott, trying his damnedest to get away, terrified and panicked. There was another voice in his head, and Stiles couldn’t tell if it just got there, or if it had been there all night. Everything was closing in, threatening to suffocate him in a heady haze. Stiles thrashed, like he could claw his way out. His enemy was right in front of him, trapping him, but he wouldn’t succumb to this. He couldn’t give up.
Stiles howled, long and low. The sound bounced off the walls, echoing through the night, but it left him shaking.
Scott tore through everything. It felt like Stiles could breathe again.
"Scott?" He asked, choking on a sob. His eyes flashed. Sharp claws still dug into his best friend’s shoulder, and Stiles didn’t understand why everything hurt so much why couldn’t it stop? What was he supposed to do? He’d do anything, everything to make it go away. Wasps swarmed through his head, and they were trying to fly out in all directions.
"I don’t-" I don’t know but I love you don’t leave me please I love you I loveyou Iloveyou Stiles grabbed his skull, like he could force his head to stop throbbing. “Make it stop. Make it stop!”
___
Scott took the claws, letting Stiles tear him apart if it meant he could keep him. He grit his teeth against the pain and held on, straddling the thrashing body as well as he could. “You can do this. You can shut him out, just look at me, Stiles. Follow me back.” The alpha was strong, he knew how easy it was to just let him in and surrender. He made everything so clear when nothing else made sense, Scott could still feel that bond linking him to his creator, but he was not going to fall.
“I love you, do you know that?” Scott said through his teeth, hands closing around Stiles’s wrists and pinning the other boy’s arms above his head. “I had such a crush on you this whole time, Jackson was so right. I really sucked at being subtle, but I tried. All I wanted was for you to just look at me, the hottest guy in school. Mr. Popular. You didn’t even know I existed…and then you did. I don’t know why you asked me out and I’m still almost convinced it was a trick, but you smiled at me and I let you have everything. Everything. And I love you! I was supposed to tell you tonight, it was supposed to be perfect a-and…”
The wolf let go of Stiles’s wrists, threading hands through his friend’s hair and leaning down until Scott’s body was draped across his. “I won’t let him hurt you. I’ve always got you.”
___
Stiles let out a pitiful whimper. It was disgusting. This wasn’t how things were supposed to be. He was supposed to protect Scott. Scott was brave, and fierce, and loyal, but Stiles was supposed to protect him. Stiles was the only one strong enough to protect him. Scott couldn’t handle power; he’d never had any, and Stiles was much better suited at wielding it. He was supposed to succeed where Scott couldn’t, but his head was spinning. All Stiles could do was hold on, letting gentle words wash over him.
"I love you," he repeated, wrapping his arms around the other werewolf’s broad shoulders. Scott’s weight was a familiar, well-loved burden, but Stiles’ hands were stained red. Stiles wouldn’t mind being crushed, if it meant making the pain go away.
He just knew Scott wouldn’t let him.
He buried his face in his best friend’s neck, pulling him closer. He could breathe Scott in like this, and waiting for seconds to pass became easier. His hands hurt, but claws receded until nothing but blunt fingers were left behind.
The monster wasn’t gone, but it was quiet. Stiles couldn’t tell which monster was his, and which was the Alpha. He ran his hands down Scott’s bare back, over sticky blood and healing wounds.
"Scott." He rasped, as the shell of his ears curved into something more human and his fangs disappeared. "It’s so loud."
___
Scott nodded his head shakily, body going limp against the other boy. He was so tired, everything hurt but he couldn’t rest yet. He traced his fingers along the curve of Stiles’s ear with a small smile. “I know…it’ll get better.” It was a promise that might not be real, but he had to believe that they’d get through it. There had to be a reason to fight.
It was going to be so much harder if the two of them couldn’t control themselves, the alpha could tear through both of their minds and there’d be no one left to pull them back. Scott closed his eyes, breathing in the scent of Stiles’s skin and the pulse of his heart through his chest. If Stiles needed him, then Scott would find a way to be strong. He’d never done it before, but he’d never had anything worth taking a stand for. “We’re still so boned you know, dude.”
He didn’t want to move. Tonight seemed never ending and all he wanted to do was take a shower and curl up next to his Stiles until noon. Or later. Maybe until hunger finally drove them out of bed before stuffing poptarts in their mouths and heading back to his room. He didn’t think it was an unreasonable wish, but things never did seem to work out the way he hoped. Scott lifted himself off of his friend with a grimace of pain, sitting back on the floor with a thump. “So how do we find Derek?”
___
Stiles didn’t like that in the slightest. A throaty growl escaped him, but he launched himself at his partner, clumsily tangling himself against Scott’s limbs. Stiles sacrificed discomfort to stuff his face in the crook of the other werewolf’s throat, taking in an eager drag of his scent like he was trying to huff coke. It almost had the same effect.
He visibly sagged against Scott, idly licking at tanned skin. “You smell so good…”
There was no room for embarrassment, not when Scott was warm, and willing beneath him. Maybe there would be tomorrow, or a week from now, or whenever he found the strength to laugh at himself for this mess. Stiles folded himself against him, tracking the progress of his frantic pulse as he stroked over toned muscle. His hand rested over Scott’s chest, like he thought he could stifle his heart that way. Stiles shivered.
Derek, they had to care about Derek.
"My head feels like it’s gonna explode, dude. How do you make it stop?"
Oh God, did he mess up. “I can’t…”
Stiles tried to force the words out, but from what sounded like a million miles away, came an answer: a long, wrecked howl.
___
He barely protested, tipping his head back and letting Stiles’s hands sooth him. There was a spark beneath his fingertips now and Scott gasped, confused by what his wolf wanted. It was another way to lose control, if sweeter. He’d let himself fall into the feeling if he could, be swallowed in it and never escape. Scott wanted to stay right here and push back, test the wolf that lurked in Stiles’s body but there were others counting on him.
Later. He promised himself that they would actually have a later.
“I don’t know.” Scott admitted, brushing the bangs from Stiles’s forehead. “I usually just focus on you and it helps. It brings me back when I get to close to losing it. I can hear your heart beating from a mile away sometimes, I always know it’s yours. I find your voice until it blocks out everything else in my head. Just find something to hold on to and don’t let go.”
The howl caused him to jump, immediately trying to sit up. He could do this, there wasn’t any other choice. “I have to help him. Stiles, you need to stay here. This is too new, you don’t have any control. I’ll find Derek and bring him back and then we’ll figure out with the alpha, okay? Just stay here and don’t let him into your head.”
___
Scott’s heart was big and generous and kind. Stiles thought about the lives Scott would never forget taking, but he could follow that heart. There were worse things to track, and if it ever stopped beating, Stiles wasn’t sure what he would do. It anchored him now, gave him a sense of direction. When he was this close to Scott, he knew which way was up, and how to make the world stop spinning so fast.
He leaned into Scott’s hand, but succumbed to the irate growl that teased the back of his throat.
"No," Stiles denied, moving with Scott, only for his hand to find the curve of Scott’s hip, trying to hold him in place. "You can’t leave, dude. You’re not even wearing clothes. Normally I wouldn’t complain, but…"
His eyes were glowing again. His pulse sped up, and Stiles was certain that his Scott would disappear the moment he took his eyes off him. The answer to that was simple. He wouldn’t let him out of his sight. “This isn’t the Alpha’s plan. You don’t know what’s out there. You need me. And bands.”
He surged forward, brave like Scott was so good at making him, to kiss him on the lips. Stiles made it linger, the sweetest apology. If they were going to die tonight, Stiles wasn’t going to regret not doing that.
"I’ll be back up," he whispered, like his wolf wasn’t itching beneath his skin, desperate for him to claim.
___
The kiss knocked the protests from his lips as something inside of him twisted, recognizing the feral infection now stalking through Stiles’s blood. They were connected too, it was different than the obedience the alpha demanded but something new that he didn’t quite have a word for. Bound. Wolfbros? Pack. Created with the same bite and tied to the same alpha. It wasn’t uncomfortable, just foreign and inhuman and it left Scott worried.
“I was planning on putting pants back on before I left the house, you know.” He couldn’t help himself from snarking just a little, dragging his smile across Stiles’s mouth. “I haven’t gone that wild, geez. Plus, I doubt it’s super intimidating when you show up with your junk hanging in the breeze.” Bright yellow eyes looked so out of place in Stiles’s face where all he could see was clear amber. Why yellow? His had changed, but he still wasn’t sure why. Derek had eyes like him, maybe they changed color the longer you lived with them?
Stiles didn’t have any control, the bite still fresh in his body and only hours old. After all these weeks, even Scott didn’t feel like he had a handle on his monster. They were ticking time bombs, it was dangerous for them both to go, but he knew he couldn’t just leave Stiles behind. Unless he was willing to chain his friend to the radiator or something, there wouldn’t be any way to keep Stiles from following him straight into danger without a good plan. Somehow, the thought of that actually made him smile. “Okay. We go save Derek, stop a murdering alpha, not die, and then I get to have my after-prom night. I had plans, I’m not changing them because of werewolves. It’ll be easy.”
___
"Dude, your junk’s pretty intimidating. I should know. I conquered it." Stiles commented, trying for sly, but mostly hitting viciously appreciative. He wanted to roll himself all over everything Scott had to offer. That wasn’t new, but the ferocity behind it was. Stiles rode bravado hard as he invited himself to Scott’s closet and proudly proclaiming, "We’ll do plans all night."
Then he smacked Scott’s ass.
No regrets.