Control Me - Sterek

Chapter Eight - Who Doesn't Love Bacon?

"Well, you must be hungry. I'm going downstairs to make you some breakfast, you can dress yourself, maybe even take another shower if you want to. Clean clothes are in the closet, just find something that will fit you. I'll be waiting for you in the kitchen," Stiles rambled on, walking to the door. "Do you like your eggs scrambled or cooked? Do you even know what you like? Have you eaten any eggs while you were hiding in the forest? You know what? I'm just going to make you breakfast, and you're going to eat it. It doesn't matter. I'll see you downstairs."

Derek nodded slowly again, watching as Stiles left the bedroom and closed the door behind him. This was so much different from his first house, from his first owner. He hadn't yet figured out in what exact way it was different than Kate (other than the fact that Stiles hadn't yet set his family on fire- not that there was a lot of family left to burn, but still), but he wasn't doubting that he wasn't going to find out about it soon. He just hoped it was a good difference, though he didn't think anyone could really do any worse than Kate fucking Argent. Or he hoped no one could, because you'd be so fucked up in the head that Derek actually would feel bad for you. 

He was just hoping to dear God that Stiles would be a good owner, that he would treat Derek with at least a tiny bit of respect and that he wouldn't torture him. Stiles had said that he wasn't going to hurt him, or at least not unless Derek was being bad, and Derek was just going to have to trust him for that and hope for the best, wasn't he? He was just going to hope that he wasn't going to be proven that he shouldn't hope for anything at all anymore... 

* 

"You do look good in my clothes," Stiles purred, running his hands down Derek's chest. The werewolf stood still, not wanting to move because he was just a werewolf and if his owner wanted to feel him up in the middle of the kitchen while the bacon was burning behind him, he was just going to have to stay and do whatever his owner wanted him to be. Which was apparently to keep quiet and watch while the entire mansion was going to burn down into flames - what was with Derek and everything around him burning down? It was really fucking strange. "You know, I'd love for you to have a collar around that pretty neck of yours. That'd look so fucking hot, don't you think so?"

"Yes, sir," Derek said, not really wanting a collar because hello, as if the microchip that was currently embedded within his body. "Anything you want, sir." 

"Aw, you're so adorable, I might even start liking you," Stiles said, booping Derek's nose before he went back to his bacon, letting out a deep sigh. "I have to hire a cook or something, because I'm not good at cooking at all. Everything seems to burn underneath of my watch," Stiles turned around, waving a wooden spoon around a little while he squinted at Derek. "I don't suppose you're good at cooking or anything, are you?"

"I used to be the one who would cook, my parents were very busy with other things and I liked cooking, sir," Derek admitted, finding no reason to tell a lie because, well, if Stiles would find out the truth about the fact that he liked to cook, he would most likely be locked up right back in that basement again and he would not be able to sit for weeks. "If you would want me to and allow me, I could be the cook, sir."

"You choose your words very carefully, don't you?" Stiles asked with an amused look on his face, making Derek's cheeks flush slightly. "Anyways, if you're such a good cook you can do it. Anything would taste better than my burnt bacon," Stiles grinned, making Derek nod. "So, I was thinking about what we could do today," Stiles turned back around, throwing away the bacon before he handed the wooden spoon to Derek. "Go ahead, put your amazing cooking skills to a good use."

"Thank you, sir," Derek smiled softly, honestly actually a little touched because he hadn't expected for Stiles to let him do anything he liked. Or it was a trick, something to make Derek think that he was going to be nice to him and then he was going to crush his spirits, or he was going to do something so something like stockholm-syndrome happened. 

"Anyways, while you make us a delicious breakfast- and I'm definitely going to expect it to be delicious since you're apparently so good at cooking, let's talk about what we're going to do today," Stiles said, walking over to stand behind Derek, pressing their bodies together so Stiles' cock was rubbing up against Derek's ass. "I have a plan for today, since I would definitely like it to spend the day actually doing things with you. That's why I have arranged some things for today, some things we can do. Or well, we can't do them, that'd be weird. Anyways, first things first, we're going to get you checked up by the doctor. Wouldn't want you to have any weird diseases or whatever from your time in the woods, right? And, well, there's something special I'm going to have to pick up there. Something that will make your stay here way more enjoyable. And, I've invited someone to come over. Sound like a good plan?"

"Yes sir, that sounds good," Derek nodded, busy flipping the bacon and making sure that this time they weren't burning as if they were souls in hell. 

"Good boy, baby," Stiles said, pecking the back of Derek's neck which made the werewolf shiver. "We're gonna have lots of fun today, baby, I promise." And for some reason, Derek wasn't doubting that at all...