#vkdemon

"It’s just the heat talking," Derek replies, holding Stiles away as best he can without hurting him. "It would be taking advantage."

"We’re already kidnapped and locked in a basement away from the partner I chose. Don’t make me go through this heat with nothing to satisfy me. Please, Derek!"

Not that Derek has a lot of experience being around people in heat, but he thinks Stiles shouldn’t be as eloquent as he’s being. Maybe the slobbering lunatic out of their mind is just an omega stereotype. Apparently, though, the desperation for sex isn’t just a stereotype.

Derek can’t help when his body responds. He smells the pheromones pouring off Stiles like rain in a storm. He may be a beta, but he has remnant instincts just the same. If he can just get Stiles to the other end of the room, Derek may weather the onset. “We don’t have any protection.”

"Do I look like I care?" Stiles groans and reaches out with his free hand, pushing himself along the ground toward Derek with his feet. "I will fucking hold you down and ride you if I need to."

"I’m stronger than you. I won’t let you." Derek scrambles away from Stiles, but he feels his resolve crumbling at the hitch in Stiles’ breath.

In the next breath, Stiles starts to sob. His voice is broken and almost weak. “Please?”

Stiles sounds like he’s in so much pain, Derek wants to cry. He knows what everyone knows – omegas need human contact. An omega denied a mate during too many consecutive heats can go crazy. That’s why in school, Derek and his classmates were taught to call for help if they came across an omega in heat.

Derek’s not a service alpha to be called on in an emergency. He’s not even an alpha. He’s a beta, and while his touch could help Stiles through this, it’s not right. Derek doesn’t even have a knot.

Of course there are plenty of omegas who chose to be with betas they fall in love with, but the old adage is true. Only an Alpha can give an Omega what she needs.

So Derek holds it together, keeping himself as far away from Stiles as he can get. Derek holds on, until he smells blood. Nostrils flaring at the scent, Derek looks up.

Stiles has one hand buried in his ass, his loosened pants hiding most of the act from view. Stiles’ other hand clenches his shoulder and neck, his fingernails digging into the skin.

"Stop it!" Derek cries as he crosses the room, pulling Stiles’ hand away from his body. "Stiles! You’re hurting yourself."

"I can’t do this!" Stiles shakes and uses both hands to grab onto Derek. "Please? I’ve never been through a heat alone. I can’t do it! My skin hurts! Everything hurts.” Stiles gives a broken-off sob.

This close up, Stiles smells amazing, like wet and wanting. Derek’s as hard as a rock. It’s the humanitarian thing to do, right? Stiles is in so much pain. Derek would only be helping. These are extenuating circumstances, after all.

"Once," Derek says, running his hand across Stiles’ back and to his far hip. "I’ll help you once."

The noise Stiles makes as he arches into Derek’s touch fills the space around them. Stiles’ hands fumble at Derek’s jeans until Derek bats them away, finishing the job for him.

Derek barely has his own jeans down before Stiles has one hand on Derek’s cock, lining it up and sinking down onto it. “Oh!” Stiles moans low in his throat. “God, that’s the stuff. Fuck, you’re bigger than Lydia!”

Through clenched teeth, Derek says, “Thanks?”

It’s been a long time since Derek was with anyone, but the fact is, he’s never been with an omega male before. It feels different. Still hot and wet, but smoother and deeper. As Stiles lifts up and then grinds down, Derek gasps. He thinks he can feel Stiles’ cervix, but his cock doesn’t run into it so much as glide past.

Kate always hated the way Derek’s dick hit her cervix when they fucked. It was one of the reasons she used to convince him to bottom for her all the time.

Derek pushes thoughts about Kate out if his head, instead focusing on Stiles. Stiles needs to come in order to satisfy the heat. Derek pushes up into Stiles and grabs Stiles’ cock, stroking it.

Stiles grinds his hips down with a shout muffled against Derek’s shoulder, and comes. Stiles’ body clamps down on Derek’s cock, wringing a surprised orgasm out of him.

"Fuck, yeah," Stiles mutters, almost like he’s talking to himself. "Come in me. Fucking knot me. Need you, Lyd–” Stiles stops talking, biting his lips together.

Derek doesn’t have a knot. As his cock softens, it slips from Stiles’ ass. Stiles whines and grinds down, chasing after it.

"No," Stiles whines, reaching down between them and fisting Derek’s extremely over-sensitive cock. "Please! I need so much more!”

"I can’t," Derek growls, grabbing Stiles’ wrist and prying his hand away. Derek pins both of Stiles’ wrists at the small of his back. Breathless, he insists, "I need time to recover. So do you!"

"I don’t!" Stiles grinds down on Derek’s thigh. "I need to be filled. I need you to knot me."

Teeth clenched in frustration, because despite how much it aches, Derek’s cock twitches and starts to refill with blood, Derek says, “I’m a beta, remember? I don’t have a knot!”

Stiles’ voice gets low and mean as he arches his body closer to Derek’s. “Then use your fingers and fake it, dumbass! Don’t you know anything about omegas?”

"No! I’ve only been with betas." Derek doesn’t admit to his relationship with an alpha. He knows how weird and gross he is for falling in love with Kate. He doesn’t need to hear it from Stiles.

Stiles stares at Derek for a moment – his eyes must be adjusting to the dark, because he’s looking at Derek’s face, rather than over his shoulder – and then says, “This is the worst thing that has ever happened to me.”

Derek starts to apologize, even though he’s certain he’s done nothing wrong, save let a strange omega in heat seduce him. He doesn’t get a word out before Stiles speaks again.

"Well, except for the time my mom died. That was pretty rough."

Derek throws his head back against the wall behind him. “Fine. We’ll try once more. Just once!”

"Yeah, totally," Stiles agrees, pressing his lips to Derek’s and licking through the seam to get to Derek’s tongue.

Derek feels his cock stirring back to life, and most of the sensitivity has faded. He lets go of Stiles’ hands so he can hold onto Stiles’ hips. Stiles grabs Derek by the jaw, tilting his head and making the kiss go deeper, dirtier. Derek sighs into the kiss and resigns himself to helping Stiles through this as best he can.

Stiles woke with a start, his heart beating like a drum, despite his brain feeling foggy and his mouth tasting like hangover. His heart only beat faster when he realized how dark and cold it was, and that he had no idea of his location. The floor felt hard, like cement, and the wall at his back felt rough. Brick. The air smelled damp and a little musty, but otherwise clean, which Stiles didn't find very comforting.

Before Stiles could explore any further, he heard a noise from across the pitch black room. The shuffling noise reminded Stiles of someone stirring from sleep. He almost called out for Lydia, before he realized it might not be her. It could be whatever psychotic asshole put him here in the first place.

Holding his breath, Stiles tried to stay as still as possible. Maybe the other person didn't know he was here.

Except holding his breath for very long was impossible, with the way Stiles' head swam and the way his fingers trembled, despite the way he desperately urged them to stay still. Fucking stay still, damn it! You're going to get me killed!

"Hey," a man's voice said, and Stiles let out his breath before taking back the air in a gasp. The man shuffled closer to Stiles. "Hey, it's okay. I'm not going to hurt you."

"How-how do I know that?" Stiles asked, backing away from the voice, one hand on the wall. He didn't have shoes on, and the cold from the floor seeped up through his socks and into his ice-block feet. "Just because I'm an omega doesn't mean you can do whatever you want to me. I know my rights!"

A loud huff came from closer than Stiles would have guessed, making him gasp with surprise. Stiles fell backward onto his ass and scrambled away from the voice as best he could. "I'm not going to hurt you, idiot, but if you keep doing that, you might hurt yourself."

"Well, what am I supposed to think?" Stiles snapped, getting himself more or less upright. "Last thing I remember, I was getting my morning coffee, and now I'm somewhere dark and cold with a voice I don't know. Excuse me for being a little protective of my own well being."

The voice huffed again, but didn't respond. Footsteps backed away from Stiles and settled a good distance away.

After a few minutes, Stiles felt another panic attack coming on, fueled by fear of where he was and what was going on. Gasping for breath, Stiles said, "Okay, I need you to talk to me, dude. What's your name? Where are we? Can we go somewhere else or turn on a light or something? Anything, because I think I'm gonna–"

"Derek," the man said, his steps shuffling closer, but thankfully not too close. "We're in a basement or a cellar. I can't break the door at the top of the stairs. And I think I saw a candle or something around here. Let me look."

"Wait, you can see down here?" Stiles asked, keeping his hand on the wall as he got to his feet and started following the voice. Devoting himself to finding a candle seemed like a better idea than freaking out over the fact that he was essentially trapped underground.

Derek rummaged around for a few seconds before answering, "I've been down here a long time."

"How long?"

"Not sure," he said. "At least a couple of weeks."

Stiles got a little closer to Derek, still far enough away that he could probably scramble back if he needed to. "Why?"

Derek grunted and something scraped against something else. "Here. I'm going to hand you a lighter and a candle."

"Can't you just light it?" Stiles had to fight the urge to back away when Derek's footsteps came closer. A burning-warm hand closed around one of Stiles' and pressed a piece of plastic into his hand. Stiles turned it around until it felt like a lighter. He flicked the wheel down a few times until the flame came to light. He held it out. "Here. Light the candle, dude."

Derek didn't move, except to push something against Stiles' shoulder. It was a long tapered candle. "Just. You do it."

Stiles grabbed it and held up the lighter so he could see Derek's face. He couldn't see much except the profile of a heavily-stubbled man with his eyes clenched tightly closed. Weird. At least he didn't look like a zombie or a mutant or something. In fact, he was maybe even pretty good looking, but it was hard to tell without much light.

Stiles lit the candle and let the lighter go out, giving it a second to cool before stashing it in his jeans pocket. He held up the candle and looked around. It really did look like a basement, with brick walls, a concrete floor, and a few supporting pillars in the middle of the room. Other than a rickety-looking desk and a folding chair, there was a couple of buckets, a stack of water bottles, and a stack of cans, which on closer inspection were all tuna. "What, are we supposed to die of mercury poisoning?"

Derek gave a noncommittal grunt. He still had one hand up, shading his face from the candlelight, and Stiles thought he caught a weird, blue reflection in Derek's eyes, but it must have just been his eyes playing tricks on him in the low light.

Stiles walked around the rest of the room, pausing at the stairs. Derek said he wasn't able to bust open that door up there, but maybe he was actually one of Stiles' captors and was lying. Since he would have kicked himself for not trying, Stiles took the stairs two at a time and tried the doorknob. He found it locked and the strongest kick he could give without falling down the stairs didn't move the door either.

Great. Just, great.

Stiles mopped a little bit of sweat from his brow. Either one flight of stairs was enough to wind him or, "Did it suddenly get warmer in here?"

Stiles rambled back down the stairs, one hand holding the candle and the other on the railing. As he reached the bottom, Stiles thought he heard Derek taking a few sharp breaths. Sniffing the air?

"Kid? Um..." Derek left his question hanging and Stiles realized he'd forgotten, in his kidnap-induced panic, to introduce himself.

"Stiles," he supplied, taking a few steps toward Derek. Derek stepped back in turn. "What? What's wrong? Is there a giant spider behind me?" Stiles turned around, and found nothing there, despite the lingering tingle on the back of his neck. God, and the sweat in his armpits. Jesus. It didn't even look like there was a furnace down here.

"You're an omega." Derek said, like he was surprised by the fact.

Bristling, Stiles replied, "Yeah. What of it? Just because I'm an omega, I'm supposed to be all cowering and submissive?"

"No, it's not–" Derek huffed, sounding almost frustrated. Stiles got closer again and saw that Derek looked like he might have some muscle under his long-sleeved shirt. "You smell like you're going into heat."

"No!" Stiles insisted. "I've got, like, three or four more days at least." Except Stiles shifted his hips and felt that tell-tale wetness in his briefs. "Oh, fuck. How long have I been here?"

Derek shrugged, the hollows of his throat going darker in the candlelight. "Down here with me? Close to a day, I think. They drugged you."

"Yeah, no shit," Stiles said, realizing the last thing he remembered: that his coffee tasted a little funny. "God damn it. Shit, Lydia's going to kill me!"

"Your alpha?" Derek asked, his tone more condescending than comforting.

Stiles sneered at him and switched the candle into his other hand to shake off the hot wax that landed on the first. "My fiancee, thank you very much. So keep your greedy alpha paws off me."

"I'm not an alpha," Derek said, holding up his hands and taking a step back. "I'll control myself."

Stiles took another look at Derek. "You bulk up like that on purpose? Make you look more like an alpha?"

Derek frowned down at one shoulder. "No. It's genetic. And I like to be healthy!"

"Okay, mister Alpha's Fitness subscriber." Oh, god. Stiles felt the heat really starting to come on. His ass felt even wetter and it began to throb in time with his anxious heart beat. Usually his pills held back the severity of the symptoms, and he and Lydia just had sex a few times in one night and called it good. If Stiles hadn't been taking his pills for the past few days. "Shit, shit, shit. I need my alpha!"

Snorting a laugh, Derek said, "Oh, now she's your alpha? I thought she was your fiancee."

"Fuck you, dude," Stiles replied, cursing when another drop of hot wax hit his hand. "Just because I have different instincts doesn't mean I'm not a person." Stiles winced again, this time at a cramp. He breathed through it, and came out the other side panting. His mouth watered and his nipples felt like his shirt was rubbing them raw. God, and his insides were starting to get that empty, lonely feeling. "Ohhhh, fuck."

"I'll stay over in this corner," Derek said, his voice moving further away as he spoke, "and you stay over in that one. We'll ride it out. Pretend I'm your brother."

"Derek," Stiles croaked, setting down the candle. It went out with a sputter and Stiles sat down hard, trying to control his limbs. "Derek, the closest thing I have to a brother is my best friend, and he was my alpha during heats until Lydia came along. Maybe pick a different analogy, hey?"

"Talk to me," Derek insisted, which surprised Stiles into looking up. He couldn't see through the darkness, but he could sort of tell which direction Derek's voice came from and imagine him sitting over there. "Tell me about any enemies you might have. Who would want to kidnap you?"

"I don't know!" Stiles cried. "I'm a freaking librarian! The only people who hate librarians are teenagers!"

"Well, I doubt it's random."

Stiles scoffed. "How could you know that?" He wiped the sweat from his brow onto the shoulder of his sweatshirt.

"Because I know exactly what Gerard Argent wants from me."

"Argent?" Stiles croaked, trying to ignore the way it felt when he wiggled his ass against the ground. "Ohh, that makes sense. Lydia's prosecuting Gerard Argent's racketeering and murder case. I'm freaking collateral."

"Lydia must have some pull with law enforcement." Derek made a shuffling noise and his voice was closer when he spoke again. "They'll find us soon."

"Well, yeah. And my dad is Beacon County Sheriff." Stiles sighed. "But do you know how long it took them to get enough evidence on Argent? It took flipping his son and this giant sting operation! Rumor is the Argents have hideouts all over the woods, all over the city. They'll never find us."

"Hey," Derek said, and this time his voice was much closer. "Keep it together."

When Derek touched Stiles, his relatively-cool hand brushing Stiles' fingers, that was all it took for Stiles' heat to flare the rest of the way into life. "Oh, big mistake," Stiles gasped, scrambling over to Derek and climbing into what felt like his lap. Stiles took a deep breath of Derek's scent and rolled his hips down against Derek's. "Didn't anyone ever tell you not to touch an omega in heat?"

"Stop that," Derek said, his hands pushing hard at Stiles' hips until he completely separated himself from Stiles' grasp. "Don't make me tie you up."

"Ooh, but with what?" Stiles gave a rueful laugh. "And jesus, could you have bigger muscles? I'll believe you're not an alpha when I feel your dick with no knot."

Derek growled, and it was an inhuman enough sound that Stiles' libido cooled just enough to keep him from launching himself forward again. "If I was an alpha, your scent would be overwhelming. I'd have you halfway to coming by now."

"Ohhh," Stiles groaned, slipping one hand into his pants. "You suck at this, you know that? You're supposed to be making me want you less."

"It's a gift."

A snort of laughter interrupted the way Stiles drew his hand over his cock, tugging on it, even though he really needed to be filled. "This is not going to end well."

Derek fell silent for a long time and Stiles tried to ride his hand through this first wave of heat. Eventually, Stiles thought he heard Derek say, "Nothing in my life ever does."

Stiles chalked up the comment as an hallucination brought on by heat and too much sensory deprivation. Surviving hower long it took the Sheriff to find them was going to take more than a few bottles of water and a couple cans of tuna. Stiles needed sex. He needed it so badly his teeth ached with it, and yet somehow Derek sat apart from Stiles, not touching him.

"You need to touch me."

"Not yet," Derek said, growling again. "Not fucking yet."

Stiles keened and came clenching around his fingers.