Fandom: Teen Wolf
Notes: Future!fic, ~2.2k words. This is an indirect sequel to Hearts Beating Faster, which provides some backstory (set after/around season 3a), but isn't necessary to understand this story. Now I know the TW presence on LJ is pretty poor, but it's here, too, for archiving's sake.
Summary: It's been 6 years since Isaac left Beacon Hills, and 6 years since they've seen each other.
OR read on AO3.
|It's been years since he has seen his pack. He can still feel the distant tugs in his heart every now and then—because the connections are still there, however thin or far, growing and fading with the seasons. They're still pack, and that's what kind of astounds him. But even so, it has been years, and he hasn't thought about Derek, or Scott, or anyone in ages. Until now.
Isaac finishes washing his hands, glaring at his reflection in the mirror. He presses a hand against his chest where his heart is, as if that would relieve the dullest ache there that has been steadily growing since a few days ago.
A sharp smack to his ass breaks him from his reverie. Isaac jumps - he hasn't been successfully crept up on in a while (werewolf senses and all) - but it's just Drew. Was that his name?
"Wanna get out of here?" Drew asks, eyebrows wiggling suggestively.
Isaac almost rolls his eyes. Just because I sucked you off and you got me off too just then doesn't mean I want more. He gives a distant smile instead, drying his hands and disposing of the paper towel. "Nah, I should get back to Jonny."
"Oh. I thought you were into it, man," Drew says, obviously disappointed. "Jonny can take care of himself, right?"
Isaac shakes his head, struggling not to say something irritably snarky back. "Sorry, man,” is all he manages, and pushes past him back into the club.
It's not an hour later that he's stumbling out of the club, taking gulps of fresh air like he was being suffocated. His body feels wrong—he hasn't unintentionally felt like this since he left Beacon Hills when he ingested wolfsbane (intentionally, yes, from experimenting through college, and even now sometimes).
Isaac manages to get into a cab and into his apartment building, feeling dizzier and chest aching. It isn't until he's unlocking the door that he realises there's someone in his apartment. The sharp, coppery smell of blood is potent, and between rampant thoughts of ‘I hope whoever it is isn't staining my carpet’, he finally gets a good whiff of the stranger.
He finds him on the couch, ugly-looking gashes up his side, shirt torn to rags. A towel is bloody beside him, Isaac's first aid kit out and opened but abandoned on the coffee table. His face doesn't look a day older than when Isaac last saw him.
Isaac bites his lip, and walks closer to his Alpha without hesitation, settling on his knees in front of the couch. Derek eyes him warily, and Isaac can hear his heartbeat pick up, but he doesn't say a word.
"Aren't you healing?" Isaac asks, palm pressing gingerly against the skin near the wound. Black disappears up his veins.
"Hey to you, too," Derek says, tone light. "Wolfsbane. I think I bled most of it out, but…"
Isaac purses his lips, watching as the wound slowly, but surely, continues to mend itself. "Are you hungry?" he asks, sauntering into the kitchen and opening the cupboard.
"If you're cooking…"
Isaac busies himself with making instant ramen, wishing he had just kicked the other werewolf out when he first saw him. He brings the pot over to the coffee table, and Derek struggles to sit across from him.
"Be careful," Isaac reprimands.
Derek ignores him and reaches for the other pair of chopsticks. Isaac latches onto his wrist, black running up his veins again, and Derek twists out of his hold a second later.
"You don't have to do that. I'm healing."
"I'm helping you heal faster," Isaac replies stubbornly. He lets go, though, and pushes the pot evenly between them.
They eat in silence, Isaac avoiding eye contact as much as possible. When they're done, he picks up their dirty dishes and washes them, before going back to stand in front of Derek, who hasn't moved from his spot on the floor.
"You know where the bathroom is, right? There are towels under the sink if you want a shower. I'll get you some clothes." His previous dizziness and ache is gone completely, now, and he doesn't doubt that it has everything to do with his Alpha's presence. Isaac doesn't dwell on it, though, and returns to the living room to dump an old shirt and sweatpants unceremoniously on top of Derek's head. "When you're done, you can take the couch for the night. If you want. The blanket's just there."
Isaac doesn't wait for Derek's reaction before shutting himself in his room, not even bothering to shower himself before stripping to his underwear and crashing onto his bed.
He listens to Derek shuffling around his apartment, taking a shower, getting changed, settling back onto the couch. He can hear the strong, stable heartbeat, the steady breaths in and out. Isaac matches his own breaths to Derek's, his heartbeat to Derek's, and falls asleep like that, breathing together, being together—but apart.
Isaac wakes up in a panic.
He hasn't in years, but he knows something is different, and different usually means wrong, so his eyes are blazing yellow before he can take in a breath and then he realises—Derek. Isaac lets himself fall back onto the bed, panting. It isn't until his pulse has settled that he realises Derek is standing outside his door, and his heartbeat picks up again.
"You can come in."
There's a pause, and then the door opens.
"Can I…?" Derek is already halfway to his bed, and Isaac just nods, swallowing the lump in his throat. He isn't prepared for Derek climbing under the covers next to him and curling around his body, arm wrapping around Isaac's waist and head burrowing into his neck. Derek's legs tangle with his, and it almost hurts, how familiar this is.
The Alpha mumbles incoherently in response, arms tightening. After a long moment, Isaac shifts lower and onto his side, so he's hugging him back and his nose is buried in Derek's hair. He smells of Isaac's shampoo and body wash and his laundry detergent - and also, distinctly, of wolf, of Derek.
"I missed you," Isaac says, hot tears prickling under his closed eyelids. Because it's true, so true, and his heart aches with how much he has missed this. Outside, the sun is beginning to rise, faint pinks bleeding into the dark grey, and Isaac allows himself to fall asleep again, holding Derek and being held.
"Hey, wanna meet up for brunch? There's this place Reese's friend opened recently, I promised them I would come and give them some patronage. The new one near work. Isaac?"
Isaac groans into his phone in response.
Jonny's laugh is a short burst of crackle in Isaac's ear. “Wait, you actually got hungover from last night? You aren't sick, are you?"
"No, I've got--"
Derek chooses this moment to roll over and—effectively—smother him in a sleepy, but deliberate cuddle, weight pressing on top of him. The phone is knocked from his hands, and Isaac scrambles to pick it up with difficulty.
“—Isaac? Are you there?"
"Sorry, just my—“ Derek blindly places his hand on his Isaac's mouth in some attempt to shut him up, and Isaac sputters, shaking his head to dislodge him, “—it's, sorry, I don't think I can do brunch."
There's a pause. "Well, call me after you bang your hot date, okay? I'll see you later."
Isaac drops the phone onto the floor as soon as he hears the dial tone, and stops short when he turns back and Derek is staring at him.
"Morning," Isaac says, and on a whim, kisses Derek squarely on the mouth.
It takes a moment, but then Derek is kissing back, passionately, six years of absence into one kiss, tongues dancing together. They break apart, panting, and Isaac is straddling Derek, pinning him to the mattress; he hits him on the shoulder at a surge of frustration. "I hated you," Isaac says, hurt in his eyes. "And I hated myself for missing you and not doing anything about it. I knew we were never obliged to continue whatever we were doing—and I was just a stupid teenager when we were—so I couldn't blame you for not finding me either. And I hated that, too."
Isaac kisses Derek again. They battle for dominance, Derek letting Isaac wrestle his shirt off, but when he dives in for another kiss, Derek flips them over, hands over Isaac's wrists.
Derek makes a noise of discontent at the hurt still in Isaac's eyes, but then he's part of the reason. Isaac leans up and they're kissing, again, and then he rolls them back over so he's on top. They're hard in their underwear now, thin fabric the only thing separating their erections as they grind against each other. Isaac shoves a hand down Derek's boxers, palming his hard cock, rewarded with a moan and then palms cupping his ass.
"Off," Isaac orders, gasping when a dry finger grazes over his hole. They part for a moment to rid themselves of their underwear, flung somewhere across the room, and then Isaac is retrieving the lube from his nightstand. Derek slicks up his fingers, but only teases around the entrance, slipping in his index finger up to the first knuckle. "Fucking hell, Derek, I need you to fuck me, now."
Derek grins. "I missed when you begged me."
It's hot, and messy, and quick; they're just desperately rutting against each other before Isaac gathers his senses long enough to find a condom. And then Derek is sliding in, hot and tight and it feels amazing, like nothing—and no one—else. Isaac whimpers brokenly, gasping as Derek starts a hard pace.
“You certainly didn’t wait around for me to fill you up,” Derek growls, nipping at Isaac’s neck. “And you smell like booze and other people and come.”
“I haven’t seen you in years,” Isaac bites back, panting. “What did you expect? I’d wear a chastity belt all through college?”
“You’ve gotten feistier as well.”
“Shut up.” Isaac’s calves hook onto the backs of Derek’s thighs, as if trying to pull him closer, deeper into him. “You have no idea how much I fucking missed you.”
Derek doesn’t say anything, just grinds harder, thrusts deeper, their naked bodies sliding against each other to create an exquisite friction against Isaac’s cock trapped between them. They’re both impossibly close, release just out of reach, and after Derek reaches to jerk Isaac off in a tight grip, Isaac comes, white streaking their stomachs, and Derek closely follows at the clenching around his member.
They just stay like that, regaining their breath, until Isaac pushes at Derek’s shoulder.
“Get off.” Isaac can feel the bubble of panic rising quickly in his throat, and the heat is suddenly too stifling; his next words come out weak. “Please get off…”
Derek does so, gently, concern evident in his eyes. “What’s wrong?”
Isaac scrambles up to the head of the bed, curling into himself. He squeezes his eyes shut, holding his head, and takes deep breaths to calm himself. The second time he’s had the beginnings of a panic attack in a while, and it’s not even 24 hours after the first. God, he has to get himself under control. Why the hell is Derek here, anyway? He had been living just fine without him. 6 fucking years since he thought he’d left all this shit behind, and now it’s coming back in full force, rocking him from his safe, albeit precariously balanced, place.
Isaac vaguely registers the mattress dipping again as Derek sits back on the bed, already cleaned up and with a damp towel in hand.
“Hey, are you okay?” Derek sounds so caring, it makes Isaac’s heart ache. “Isaac, will you let me clean you up?”
Isaac’s eyes flash yellow when he looks up, vulnerability gone but uncertainty still there. He slowly nods, hands and legs falling to rest on the mattress.
“I’m sorry,” Derek mutters, wiping at the already drying come across Isaac’s torso.
“Why did you come back?” Isaac asks, but that doesn’t sound right—Derek wasn’t the one who left. “Why did you come and find me?”
Derek sighs, lying down and, with a nod of consent from the younger, pulling Isaac against him. “I wasn’t going to,” he admits. “You kept in touch with the others, so I always knew you were in New York, but… I was just going to watch you, see how you were.”
“That’s fucking creepy.”
“Old habits die hard.” Derek’s smiling, but then it dims. “And then I ran into a few hunters.”
“What? Why did they target you?”
“Some overzealous hunters and a misunderstanding,” Derek dismisses quickly. “It’s a boring story.”
Isaac bites his lip. “Then why me, why are you still here?”
“You were the first person I thought of,” Derek says, thumb stroking along one of Isaac’s hands. “And when I started I couldn’t stop.”
Isaac allows himself to melt into his Alpha’s hold; he still has many questions, but they seem unimportant now, and he feels lethargic again. His heart thrums in satisfaction, a warmth spreading through his chest the more he relaxes. “You aren’t going to leave soon, are you?”
“Not unless you want me to,” Derek replies.
Isaac closes his eyes. “Stay.”
“I don’t have anywhere else to be.”
- Merry Christmas or Happy Holidays! Hope you enjoyed, and if you liked/had any thoughts, don't hesitate to let me know in the comments, or leave some kudos on the AO3 version.