Changing Patterns

• 26 •

Stiles suppresses a satisfied hum at the touch and instantly plunged into the make out session. Nipping lightly for entrance and sliding his tongue along Derek's. Leaning his head sideways as Derek's does to provide more room. Moaning into the wolfs tongue trailing around his mouth, then sucking on Derek's tongue for a quick second. Derek leaned and pressed his forehead to Stiles's temple, the younger panting a breath and quickly digging into Derek's neck with non-permanent marks that he glared at. Derek chuckles as he tangled fingers into Stiles's hair and tugged his head back, then filling Stiles's mouth with more French kisses that they both, know and then, hummed into in satisfaction.

That was until it stopped, just died down with breathing and turned into spooning. Wide spooning, leaving surprising amounts of room. Although Derek still wrapping his warm wolf arms around Stiles's waist. The humans upper half sturdily leaning back into Derek's chest. And they both slept.

<———>•<———>

    "Stiles, try to focus on your scent. Your trying to make it stronger okay." Deaton lays his hands together in front of his lap.

    "How am I supposed to do that? Think about anxiety and sweat?" Stiles shook his hands with a thick annoyed sigh. Standing across from Deaton on the porch as he breathed slowly.

    "Focus on making yourself known, on your precancerous being noticeable. Your scent is tied to all of that." Deaton smiles as the younger bows his head with another sigh to think.

    He trails his mind for himself, for what he's known for- annoying, loud, sarcastic, smart, researcher, and so on. That's just him. As for scent, all he know is he's constantly laced with anxiety- which comes with sweat. Scott never really spoke about what he spelt like, "just... stiles" he said. That's helpful. The human thinks about the wolfs and their ability to pick out different scents and put names to them, how he can never make a surprise meal with them in the house. Stiles thinks about his shampoo, coconut. And his body wash which is like honey and sugar or something. Stiles twists to glance over his shoulder at the test dummy wolves. Peter, Isaac, Liam, and Malia; who isn't exactly a wolf, but close enough. None of the four made to show any difference.

    Stiles sighed heavily and tried to perk up his slowly slumping shoulders for show. He's a logic guy. He can't just think about being know- that doesn't even make sense. That could mean famous- if he wasn't so drowned in the supernatural world. Stiles cleared his throat and closed his eyes. He's a logic person, he needs something specific to think about, certain attributes. That's what he needs, what does he smell like, how does that smell affect the pack, what his strongest scent. As if reading his mind Scott spoke up as he rounded the front door with a bag of popcorn. Stiles scoffed at the sight of trailing puppies and the snack in hand as he made his way down the front steps to lean on his bike.

    "I think vanilla is the strongest part of your scent, some coconut in there from your soap too." Scott shrugged with a supportive grin as he munched on some popcorn and slapped away Erica's hand.

    The girl hissed and turned to take from Boyd on the other side of her car. "He just smells sweet to me." The large wolf speaks.

    "Try, fresh. It's almost like, mossy, right after it rained, forestry type." The blonde shrugged bouncing meticulously placed curls. 

    Stiles smiles fondly just as a soft bump to the shoulder distracted him. Derek passed by and dropped down the steps to lean on the end railing at the bottom. Stiles blink and turned back to Deaton, staring before breathing and closing his eyes.