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Stiles was trembling, the adrenaline from the fight finally leaving him. It made his knees go weak and his entire body turned to jelly. Derek watched it happen, saw the way he quivered then slumped and finally pitched forward. He was moving before he realised, hands spread to catch the teenager. He he smoothed the blood from his forehead, careful not to damage him further. The boy was a mass of bruises and cuts, claws sharper than any knife had cut into his skin over and over leaving only the faintest line of blood behind before they had managed to rescue him. Technically Stiles rescued himself, but Derek felt they deserved the credit for even attempting to get him away from the harpies.
Stiles was mumbling something to himself, the words slurring together too fast for Derek to decipher. It probably didn’t matter anyway, the boy was injured and about to crash out, of course he was speaking nonsense. Deciding that really the boy should be in bed by now, in fact he should be in bed too, he dragged Stiles closer, his hand landing on the nape of his neck for a moment. It was only a moment, he intended to haul the teenager into his arms and carry him upstairs to his room. Instead the instant Derek’s palm met Stiles’ nape, the boy’s eyes blew wide and his entire body crashed against Derek’s, all strength gone from it. His heartbeat slowed exponentially, so much so that Derek feared something was really wrong with Stiles. When Derek tried to move him, taking his hand away, Stiles leaned back into the touch, his muttered words suddenly crystal clear “Please, I’ll be a good boy. I’ll be so good. Please.”
Every muscle in his body locked into place. Blown pupils, slowed heartbeat, blissed out scent and lax frame, he knew those symptoms. Leaning down so he was level with Stiles, but careful not to lose contact with his nape, he asked the younger boy gently, “Stiles are you a sub?”
The blissed out scent was spreading throughout the room making it difficult for Derek to concentrate, but he fought against it. He had to know what was happening here. When Stiles didn’t answer, he injected a little more Alpha into his voice and changed his body language just enough to make himself seem dominant. “Stiles are you a sub?”
The boy whined and exhaled a breathy “yes” confirming his suspicions. Stiles was in sub-space. The events of the evening were obviously too much for him and Derek’s own behaviour, his initial act of protection and then comfort must have triggered it. Stiles was reacting like they’d finished a scene. Somehow Derek was left with the aftercare duties of a Dom to someone who wasn’t his sub.
Still, he couldn’t stop the glee from running through his system, altering his scent so much he’s sure Stiles picked up on it and he was human. Stiles was a sub, obviously he didn’t have a proper Dom or Derek wouldn’t be here right now, this situation would never have happened if Stiles was reaching sub-space regularly. He could help him out. Sure this was an emergency and Derek would never deny Stiles the aftercare he so desperately needs, but this could become a thing. They could become a thing. It’s something Derek has craved for over a year now, he was just afraid of how Stiles would react. Not many people wanted to live the way he did. Not everyone wanted to be dominated and Derek was perfectly okay with that, but Derek needed to dominate his partners. It was something deep within himself that he had always known so to enter a relationship without being able to do that was pointless. He never imagined Stiles could be a sub (outside of his daily shower jerk off sessions that is).
Wrapping the boy in his arms he carried him upstairs, careful to keep his flesh against the boys skin at all times. Gently he laid the teenager on his bed, tugging off first Stiles’ boots and then his own. Once he had them both stripped down to their boxers, he nudged the younger man to the side away from the door and then pressed his body against him. This way if anything attacked them he would be able to defend them immediately. He couldn’t let Stiles be in danger, not when they had just managed to escape it. Switching off the light and checking the house for any unusual sounds, he let himself bask in Stilinski’s soft skin. He ran his hands over that smooth torso, tugging the boy closer until Derek was the big spoon and Stiles was wrapped up safe in his arms. He knew the moment the teenager slipped into dreams, his breath softened and the last remnants of tension disappeared completely. Scenting the boys shoulder and neck he let himself have this. It felt wonderful to finally have Stiles in his arms, warm and sleep soft and pliant. In the morning they would discuss things, Derek would ask to be Stiles’ Dom, but that could wait until the morning, until then he was going to enjoy having Stiles like this.