Derek made a soft sound of affirmation, let his hand move over Stiles' skin, his back and shoulders, down his arm. His body, perhaps sensing a safe location, was actively fighting now, and every now and then he let out a full body shudder that left him clutching Stiles close.
Arousal was the furthest thing from Derek's mind, but pleasure still registered--soft skin under his, a warm body next to his, and a scent that he fought to recognize beneath the stench of wolfsbane and blood, that kept him grounded, centered. Anchored.