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With a smudge of burnt sage rubbed behind each ear, Stiles cast his gaze over the club once more, smirking as he caught sight of his target. It was easy, then, to dance from person to person until he was within arm's reach of his latest bounty with his stubbled jaw and glowing eyes. And Derek Hale? He was worth every penny the Argents would pay for Stiles to bring him back to stand trial for his crimes.
With the sage to hide the scent of his magic, Derek didn't seem to suspect anything as Stiles moved closer, even opening his personal bubble of space to allow Stiles access. Licking his lips, Stiles sidled up against him until they were chest to chest and slowly joining hands as the music pounded loudly enough that Stiles was certain that his heart was matching the rhythm. "We should go back to your place," he said as loudly as he could without screaming, his fingers twisting with Derek's. He just needed him out of the club where mountain ash wouldn't be disturbed by moving feet.
But Derek... God, he made it difficult to think. At Stiles' words, he pressed one knee between Stiles' thighs and then slid himself up Stiles' thigh until it was obvious that either Derek didn't care who he did this with, or that something about Stiles had passed muster. The hardness of him through his jeans was enough to make Stiles' mouth water and decide that, as long as it was consensual, the Argents could wait another hour or two before getting Derek back.
Outside of the club, Stiles found himself dragged down the street to a four-storey apartment building where Derek seemed to have scored a first level apartment. Stiles was quick to take off his pants, careful to arrange them on the floor under his shirt where the sage scent was strongest. "So, are you kind of that alpha male type who has to be on top or what?"
With a strange look, Derek finished stripping down to his underwear and laughed. "That's only alphas in captivity, you know. Real alpha males can find ways to be in charge of themselves even when they aren't in traditional positions of dominance. Why? Is that your way of saying you want to fuck me?"
Swallowing roughly, Stiles nodded once. "Yeah. Since I saw your ass from across the club."
Dragging down his boxer briefs, Derek stepped out of them and over to the nightstand where he pulled out a half-used tube of lube and a condom. "Get to it, then."
Taking off his own underwear carefully, then stroking himself to full hardness, Stiles took the lube and gave Derek a gentle push to the bed. "Do you need a lot of prep or...?"
"Not really," Derek said, his voice soft and strained as he rested his cheek against the bedspread so he could reach back to hold himself open. "Two fingers and plenty of lube and I'll be fine."
Stiles nodded quickly, moving into position behind Derek and stretching him open quickly before pulling the condom onto his aching cock and slicking it up as well. "You sure?" He slid closer to Derek, the head of his cock just teasing against his entrance.
Groaning, Derek pushed backward so that the pressure against Stiles' cock forced his hips to twitch. "Don't be a fucking tease."
"I'm a lot of things," Stile said as he gripped Derek's hips. "A tease isn't remotely one of them." He plunged inside, delighting in Derek's sharp bark of a yell that seemed to echo off the walls for a moment. "Like that, sweetie?"
"It's Derek." Groaning, he moved his hips in a circle before beginning to rock back and forth slightly. "And I'll like it better when it's more than one good thrust."
Snorting with laughter, Stiles began to thrust, the song from the club somehow stuck in his head and making his rhythm just as frenetic as his heartbeat. "Fuck, Derek. This is like fucking a furnace!"
"I run hot," he gritted out from between clenched teeth, hands making fists in the bedclothes as he matched Stiles pace. "You wanna fuck someone whose ass wouldn't even make ice melt?"
Stiles let one hand off of Derek's hip, slapping his ass with it instead and smirking at the sound. "There's an idea, you know. Get you nice and cool inside and then fuck you until you're hot again. Would you like that, Derek?" His fingers moved to the tattoo in the center of Derek's back, tracing it absentmindedly as his hips kept up his rhythm. The bounty sheet had listed the tattoo under Derek's identifying characteristics, but he had somehow neglected to imagine how much of his focus it might draw. The spirals of it were mesmerizing, each one the twist that was supposed to indicate vendetta and revenge, but tying together before they could spin out of control.
"I just want to come." One of Derek's hands had moved to grip himself, stroking his cock with the movement of his hips so that everything pulsed like a heartbeat, the heat of the room overwhelming. "Just... harder!"
Moving his hand up to Derek's hair, catching the strands between his fingers, Stiles complied. The hint of Derek's arched neck as Stiles pulled gently on his hair was enough to make his cock twitch as he drove it into Derek's heat again. "Fuck!" He lost the rhythm then, his last few thrusts into Derek just enough to pull him through his orgasm before reaching down to join his hand with Derek's to get him off with Stiles' cock still filling him. "Come on, Derek. Come for me!"
Clenching his muscles, Derek let out a restrained scream, his hips bucking as he came. He fell to his stomach, laughing at the noise Stiles made at being forced out of him. "You up for a little cuddling?"
Licking his lips, Stiles nodded. The bounty was waiting for Derek, so as long as he had him right in front of him, it wasn't like anyone else could get him. He moved to the side, taking off of the condom and knotting the end before tossing it in the trashcan he spotted. "So, Derek..." Stiles lay down next to Derek and cleared his throat. "Do you do this often?"
Grabbing his shirt from the floor and laying it over the wet spot on the covers, Derek nuzzled up against Stiles. "Not really. There was just something about you, though. You kind of... Even with everyone else there, you stood out." He brushed his thumb across the sweat that had beaded up on Stiles' temple, then traced his fingers back through his hair. "The way you look. Your heartbeat. I don't know why, but it was kind of..." He pulled his hand back, a look of horror on his face as he brought his fingers up to his nose, sniffing. "Shit, you're a skiptracer, aren't you?"
"I..." Stiles reached back to rub off the rest of the sage, his eyes searching Derek's face as the scent of his magic filled the room. "I am. The Argents want you to stand trial for killing your family."
Derek stood up, pulling on pants and grabbing a fresh shirt, the look on his face one of obvious distress. "The Argents want me to stand trial for what one of them did. I'm not going back to their little werewolf jail where they test just how much electricity a werewolf can survive and what's poisonous."
"Wait, what?" Stiles grabbed his own pants and shirt and started to dress. "Are you seriously saying that one of the Argents started that fire?"
Pulling his shirt over his head, Derek let out a growl. "Go look at the crime scene yourself. I don't think I could exactly surround the place in mountain ash. I was there because I was trying to get past it to save my family, but the Argents were conveniently there to catch me at it." Pulling on shoes, Derek paused in speaking only to start up again as soon as Stiles tried to break the silence. "Tell me, what do you think of the fact that the Argents have made themselves judge, jury, and executioner? Do you seriously think anyone could get a fair trial that way?"
Stiles stared at Derek for a long moment, the silence making his heartbeat sound loud even to his own ears. "If I promise to make sure that you get a fair trial, will you go back with me willingly?"
"How the hell do you think you're going to manage that?" Derek shook his head. "You're a magical bounty hunter. That doesn't exactly give you an in on the system."
Shaking his head, Stiles dug into his pocket for a small bottle of orange liquid. "No, but being the sheriff's son where the Argents live allows me to exert a certain amount of pressure where it's needed." He help up the bottle. "Take this. It'll bond you to me for the journey back."
Grabbing the bottle from Stiles' hand, Derek glared at it, then back up at Stiles. "I thought this was supposed to be done with drawn runes?"
"The runes are drawn with the liquid to be kind of like handcuffs and a leash. If you willingly ingest it? It just makes it where no one else can take you away from me until I release you." He held up a bottle of blue liquid. "I get to drink this one when we get back to do it. But, don't worry. I'm incredibly good at this."
Uncapping the bottle, Derek moved closer until he was right in front of Stiles. "I hope so," he said as he started to tilt the bottle back toward his lips, one hand darting out and grabbing the other bottle from Stiles, throwing it to the floor and smashing it under his heel as he drank back the orange liquid. "So. Does this mean I'm stuck with you now?"
Stiles rolled his eyes. "I can make more of that, you know." He smirked suddenly. "But... the Argents don't know how long it takes. I think maybe it might need to take until the next new moon." With a shrug, he moved to put his own shoes back on. "I hope you don't mind doing more cuddling when we get back to my place. I only have a one-bedroom apartment and I opted for a loveseat instead of a couch, so you'll just have to sleep with me."
"You trust me in your bed?" Derek's eyes narrowed. "Why?"
"Because you trusted me in yours, and then, for whatever reason, didn't try to claw me up or even run away from me when you found out I was a skiptracer. Besides, magic. Like I said, I'm incredibly good at this. I have an eye for evil, too, and you... You don't strike me as evil. Gerard Argent, though? I did always wonder about him. So, if I can't collect my bounty, I'm going to take down a regime. Satisfaction might not buy food, but it'll feed my soul or something, right?"
Derek laughed. "I'm a little more than comfortably well off. If you bring down the Argents, I'll pay you twice what my bond was."
"That's..." Stiles smirked. "You just want me to spank your ass again, don't you?"
"Was once enough for you?" Derek grabbed a jacket off of a hook by the door. "Now, back to Beacon Hills?"
"No." Stiles moved over quickly to join Derek. "On the spanking, not the Beacon Hills. We're doing that, and then maybe doing more of the spanking?"
Opening the door, Derek nodded. "As long as you don't end up in a cell with me? Definitely."
Stiles pumped a fist in the air. "I just want you to know that today is actually the first time I've ever loved my job. Now, come on. Back to the club because I'm kind of parked right outside."
"By the way..." Derek cleared his throat. "I don't think I ever got your name."
"Bonding to me without even knowing my name? How uncouth!" Stiles held out his hand. "I'm Stiles."
Pulling Stiles through the doorway by his outstretched hand, Derek locked up behind him. "I'm sure you know that's a weird name. But, you still seem like a better option than jail."
"And somehow your sarcasm still manages to bolster my self-esteem just a tiny bit." Stiles linked hands with Derek once more. "Come on. We didn't get our post-orgasm cuddle on, so the least I owe you is a little skin to skin contact."
Derek's fingers tightening around Stiles', he smiled. "Oh, yeah. The absolute least."