Derek was surprised when he got up one morning and they hadn’t disappeared. The normally smooth skin was discolored with markings. Hickeys and bite marks, things he left on Stiles all the time, that Stiles tried to put on him all the time, but in which he never succeeded for long. Stiles hated the fact that he couldn’t mark Derek, that every imprint of him having been there would be gone only minutes after they finished.
It was always a fight with his dominant instincts to let Stiles near his neck, to give up control, but the satisfaction it left inside him knowing that he was Stiles’ and Stiles was his, sent pleasant shivers down his spine. He knew the marks would be gone, he knew there would be no evidence of Stiles touching him, kissing him, biting him, except maybe his lingering scent. The scent that never really left now that they’d been together for so long.
Derek was shocked when he glanced at the mirror in the bathroom. He pulled the collar of his shirt down and his eyes widened. The darkened stains of teeth marks littered his collarbone and decorated his neck and shoulder. When he pulled up his shirt, Derek could see a trail of them down his stomach, one of them right next to his navel.
What. The. Fuck.
“Do you like it?” Derek’s head snapped towards the door. Stiles was leaning against the doorframe, his arms crossed in a casual and relaxed way, but Derek could hear his heart beating unsteadily. Stiles was nervous. The dark bruises that he’d left on Stiles last night edged above his hoodie and painted his skin artistically.
“What did you do?” Stiles’ face fell.
“You don’t like it,” he babbled, “Shit! I should have known you wouldn’t like it, I’ll undo it as soon as I get my hands on that book-“ Derek cut him off, placing a hand over his rapidly moving lips.
“What did you do?” he asked again, slowly moving his hand away from Stiles’ mouth, but not reducing their proximity in the least.
“I- It’s a spell,” Stiles answered and Derek scowled. He didn’t like magic. “A tiny one, I promise. I’ll remove it please don’t kill me.”
“What does it do?” Derek moved closer, hovering over Stiles. They were the same height, but Stiles seemed smaller now, his cheeks tinted with shame and a tinge of regret, but Derek wasn’t fooled. He could smell the arousal drifting sluggishly through Stiles, could hear how his heart sped up a little when Derek’s nostrils flared. It fueled Derek’s own arousal to a frightening degree and made him feel like a predator.
“It’s a- It’s a spell that makes you- It’s hard to explain. It enables me to hurt your body, but only if I don’t have intent of hurting you. Dude I swear I didn’t mean to like, be able to harm you or something.” Derek could hear Stiles wasn’t lying.
“So it’s a spell that’s basically designed for humans and werewolves to be able to mark each other, without it fading due to werewolf healing?” Stiles looked away, his cheeks a definite red now.
“I- yeah. That’s basically what it does. Right in one! Do you want a cookie, because I was planning on making cookies, right after undoing the spell that I put on you,“ Stiles swallowed, “Without your permission,” he smiled nervously, “which I should have totally asked.”
“I don’t mind,” Derek spoke, still intently watching Stiles’ movements.
“You don’t mind? That’s- That is really cool-“
Stiles didn’t get the chance to finish as Derek pushed him up against the wall, his lips stopping Stiles from uttering another word.
“Next time you want to do kinky stuff, ask me.” Derek hissed against Stiles’ lips.
“Noted. Not performing sexy spells on any unsuspecting alphas without their consent- Hey! Put me down!”
Derek only smirked as he picked him up and slung him over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes, making his way back into their bedroom.
There was some marking to be done after all.