Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/1678580.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Teen_Wolf_(TV)
  Relationship:
      Derek_Hale/Stiles_Stilinski
  Character:
      Derek_Hale, Stiles_Stilinski
  Additional Tags:
      PWP, Underage_-_Freeform, DUI_actually!_derek_u_rebel, dub_con, stiles
      only_exists_to_do_derek's_broody_werewolf_biddings, Mentions_of
      Masturbation, also_stiles_is_sweet_sweet_prey, I'm_so_not_sorry, Mentions
      of_Mates, ohgawd_this_PWP_is_suddenly_developing_feels_isn't_it, Still
      not_sorry, Blowjobs, handjobs
  Series:
      Part 2 of The_Smutty_Songfic_Collection
  Stats:
      Published: 2014-05-23 Words: 2812
****** Howling For You ******
by JueJueBahn
Summary
     There's Derek's car (from s01) which basically says it all cause that
     was a fine fking car. Stuff happens in that fine car after Derek
     interrupts Stiles' alone time with a not that important text message.
Notes
     Since I'm high on AlphaCon-Endorphins right now, Imma give you the
     next part of this series =) (only 2 weeks yaaaaay Vienna here I come!
     well I'm actually already in Vienna nevermind)
     Yeah this part. gawd I think this one is better than the last? But
     yeah in case u want more info on this:
     1st: this srsly is just PWP. don't expect story to follow or develop
     or whatever. I do make mentions of a storyline, but let's be honest
     here, it's more setup than actual plot so thereugo.
     2nd: I have 4 parts planned for this and I haven't written the last
     one yet- I don't know when I'll get to it, so. sorry? xD part 3 is
     already written but I wanna look it over again before I post it. then
     again maybe I'll also post it today. who knows where another beer
     will lead me.
     here's the song (what were u expecting- it's a tw songfic of course
     this song is in here duh.):
     https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=A3scl0fl0zE
Howling For You
Derek knows something is off about the boy's scent the second the car door is
opened.
They have only seen each other in the company of someone else since that night
and Stiles has acted as awkward around him as Derek had calculated he would. In
truth, it has actually been amusing- the increased flailing and tripping and
blushing and babbling; and the weirdest thing about it is no one but Derek has
seemed to notice that Stiles has been even more fidgety than usual these days.
It has also served to keep the wolf in check, knowing that Stiles was thinking
about him and losing his cool for the sole reason that the boy keeps
remembering them having sex.
He has in fact been proud of refraining from touching Stiles that way for
almost a week.
But he needs him now- the information the boy has found about the creature they
still have not found actually. What he has not been prepared for is the way
Stiles' scent fills up the small room inside the car when he slumps in,
embarrassed scowl on the boy's face even as he closes the door.
"What?"
"What, what?" Stiles squeals and looks too indignant for Derek to even begin to
understand what he is so pissed about. "I'm not your…! Jesus!"
He takes a deep breath and focuses on the console before he continues his
tirade, and Derek realises what that smell is. It makes his insides churn and
his pulse quicken.
"You can't just expect me to be ready to go whenever you text me! I don't exist
only to do your broody werewolf biddings, you know! I'm a teenager, I still
have school, remember? I cannot just jump up and go chasing monsters with you
whenever you tell me to be 'ready and down in five minutes'!"
He's fidgeting with the hem of his shirt and Derek notices it's buttoned up
wrong- right side one button lower than the left- and he actually has to close
his eyes when he inhales again. Stiles is like a drug to his nose, heady and
intriguing, and he feels how long it's been in every pore of his body. Even
with the tension of the full moon out of his system he feels helpless in the
rush of his emotions, feels his heartbeat pick up and long for the boy pressed
up against him skin on skin. It's useless trying to remind himself that his
existence is made up of more than want and need because all he can focus on
right now is the lust surging through him.
"Were you beating off?"
His voice is a growl and he's almost sorry for how intimidating he must sound.
Almost.
Because Stiles freezes and watches him open-mouthed and shocked and it's a good
thing he remembers they're still parked in front of the sheriff's house,
because he needs to get them out of there and somewhere private before he gets
arrested because of this teenager again.
"I… you… what…? So??"
Stiles face goes red, but he still seems more angry than embarrassed. Derek in
turn gives in to the groan that fights to leave his body and bumps his head
hard into the headrest. His vision bleeds when he looks at Stiles and he grips
the wheel tight to keep himself from reaching out. Stiles gulps.
"You didn't finish" Derek mumbles and stares onto the road as he eases the
Camaro out onto the street.
"Well, you interrupted!" Stiles squeaks, and his cheeks turn a brighter shade
of red that he tries to hide by looking out the window. "Oh my God!"
Derek only realises he's reacting when he hears his own growl and bless
whatever almighty beings actually existed, Stiles can't find any answering
words. It takes all he has not to maul oh so ready smelling Stiles somewhere on
the ride, so it really is a blessing that the boy's just sitting there, trying
to meld with the car door, leg jumping up and down in a pace almost as fast as
Derek's pulse. Somewhere during the drive it seems to dawn on Stiles that
there's something wrong, because they're not going in the direction of Derek's
loft or even any of the other places they usually discuss tactics and plans in-
but the preserve. He keeps sending Derek those shy, concerned looks and
nibbling on his thumb nail, but apparently his ideas of what's about to happen
aren't that far off, because he smells more aroused and sure by the second, and
it's really not something that serves to slow or calm Derek down in any way.
He's hard in his jeans and the movement of Stiles adjusting himself tells him
the boy is too and fucking finally they're deep enough into the woods that no
one will come by at this hour.
Derek stops the car and Stiles tenses.
"So what…?" Stiles begins but startles when Derek undoes both their seat belts
and growls again. The tight space inside the Camaro only serves to intensify
the thick smell of excitement and hunger and even though Stiles can't sense it,
he's obviously aware of the program, biting his lip and backing into the
passenger door like he's not sure if he should offer himself or flee. It's an
excruciatingly good look on him- a mixture of prey and mate, and Derek really
shouldn't be thinking about this because the boy is seventeen, he doesn't know
the meaning of forever the way it's inscribed in a wolf's existence- finding
the right person and sticking with them.
He has no excuse this time, the full moon has passed, he's been in control of
himself for almost a whole week, but this now, the close proximity, pheromones
all around him, the flush on Stiles' face and that unaware want reflected in
the boy's eyes make him this feral thing that he is definitely not proud of,
but feels a bit of righteous acceptance for in the urgent, needy look Stiles
sends him. He wants so badly and he really can't fight the urge down when
Stiles smells and looks and feels like he wants him in return, even though it
seems the boy still hasn't fully realised it yet.
"Come here."
It's not a request, and his voice is sandpaper rough and fuck he hopes Stiles
will surprise him by actually listening because if the kid runs and lets him
chase he knows the last of his control is done for. Of course Stiles doesn't
listen.
"You c-can't be ser-…" he mumbles, blushing harder, hand scrambling for the
door handle even as he tries to back away further. Derek doesn't even hear
himself growl, just realises the next second the front of Stiles' shirt is
between his fingers and the boy is sprawled across the seats, Derek's lips
stealing all the desperate noises he loses during the kiss. He doesn't let the
boy off easy, hand tight on the back of his neck, and Stiles flails a bit
before he finds he's just gonna hurt himself if he doesn't hold on. So he does,
palms on Derek's shoulders, gives a light yelp when Derek grumbles in approval.
He smells heavenly now- anxious and confused, yes, but also desperately turned
on. Derek's always known Stiles was a fast learner, but it's proven in the
easiness with which he kisses back, even though Derek uses too many teeth-
biting across Stiles' lips just to hear the boy whimper every time he pulls a
tad too harshly.
When he ends the kiss Stiles moans at the loss. He looks like everything Derek
wants, eyes shut tight in concentration and embarrassment, lips wet and swollen
and Derek can't pry his gaze away, has admittedly dreamt of that mouth too many
times this week. He can't help the groan that escapes him, or licking across
Stiles lips slowly, relishing Stiles' shiver and cling to Derek's jacket.
"God, Stiles…" comes out as a whisper, blown over Stiles' moist lips, and the
boy opens his eyes, pupils blown wide and stare off, even as he pants into
Derek's face and searches his eyes for something, maybe guidance. It's too
much, basically an invitation for Derek to tell him what to do, and it punches
the air out of the werewolf's lungs and all the blood down to his groin.
He pushes their foreheads together and lets himself get drunk on Stiles' scent
while he opens his fly and pulls out his cock, giving it a hard tug and
watching Stiles swallow as the boy tries to not look down. Derek is sticky with
precome already and he shifts in his seat, towards Stiles, nudging Stiles' nose
with his own. Stiles' heartbeat kicks up a notch when Derek buries his fingers
in his short hair, but he doesn't say a word when Derek pushes him down-
careful and slow, but nonetheless relentless. The whimper he makes when his
eyes fly down to Derek's cock only feeds both their arousal, so thick in the
air now Derek thinks he can taste it on his tongue.
When he's level with Derek's groin he gives a sorry little whine again and
looks up, so unsure and helplessly turned on, hands resting on Derek's thighs
like he doesn't know what to do with himself. He's such an exact replica of
Derek's fantasies that it makes him groan, even as he tries to calm the boy
down, running his fingers through his hair and across his cheek. Stiles closes
his eyes and takes a deep breath that comes stuttering out of him again when he
reestablishes eye contact. But he does look more certain now, ready and he
makes the filthiest moan when Derek thumbs his bottom lip and then forces his
mouth open. It's weird how wordless Stiles is when they do this, but Derek is
incapable of making himself believe that he's taking advantage because he knows
Stiles wants this as much as he does, just doesn't know how to ask for it.
Stiles is still looking at him, and when Derek runs his thumb across his lip
again, he whines once more and opens his mouth wider, only lowering his eyes
again when Derek grabs the base of his cock and pulls Stiles closer by his
neck. They both groan at the first contact of Stiles' lips with the head and
Derek knows this will last an embarrassingly short amount of time. He feeds
Stiles more of his dick and the boy's eyebrows draw together in concentration
and withheld desire. Stiles is careful enough to cover his teeth, but he's
pushing back against Derek's hand as if he wants to do this all by himself.
Derek is too far gone to care much anyway, because Stiles' mouth is warm and
wet and he's keeping his lips tight enough that it feels perfect- and Derek has
to hold him still for a bit before this is over too soon. He comes back down
when Stiles' makes a choking noise and wickedly pulls Stiles in more just to
hear it again when he hits the back of Stiles' throat. Stiles flails a bit and
then just digs his fingers into Derek's thighs, the sound of his fingernails
scrabbling against jeans loud in Derek's ears, but not as loud as the thump of
Stiles' heart- and amazingly it's not panic, it's pleasure. He doesn't fight
back, just holds on and holds out, even when tears form in his eyes and yeah,
Derek's gonna come in less than a minute.
He lets Stiles go and the boy pulls back, gasping for breath and wiping at his
eyes, but he stays down between Derek's legs and freezes when Derek pets him,
fingernails gentle against Stiles' scalp right over his ear. Stiles looks up at
him and whimpers, but doesn't say anything, not even commenting on the obvious
dog joke hanging between them. Then he licks his lips and goes back in and
Derek lets his head roll against the car window when Stiles envelops him again,
pleasure zinging bright and hot like lightning through his blood. This time
he's the one holding on for dear life, fingers tight in Stiles' hair as Stiles
bobs his head. His rhythm is irregular and faulty, but Derek's on the edge
quickly anyway, especially because Stiles makes such a good sight, cheeks
hollowed, concentrated frown on his blushed face, spit running down to his
chin. Derek makes him go faster simply by rolling his hips up and Stiles moans
desperately, tries to keep up, fingers shaking against Derek's thighs.
When Derek comes it feels like all his withholding over the week prior is
seeping out of him, that huge weight off his shoulders, and he almost howls as
he spills inside Stiles' mouth, keeping the boy close by the grip he has on
him, thankfully human nails digging into the skin on the back of Stiles' neck.
Stiles whimpers and tries to swallow all but chokes halfway and Derek has
enough of his sense back to let him go and cough abashedly into his palm as he
sits up.
They're both catching their breath and Derek looks Stiles over, slumped against
the passenger seat, hand against his mouth, dishevelled and small, pulling on
the leg of his jeans to ease some of the pressure on his painful looking
erection. He moves to wipe the come and spit off his jaw, but Derek grabs his
wrist and burrows into his space. It's an unexpectedly big sting in his chest
when Stiles doesn't look at him, keeps his watery eyes trained to the side,
even as he stifles his moan when Derek licks his face clean.
There's not much space in the car so they end up uncomfortably sprawled around
each other, legs tangled in weird angles, Stiles pressed into the corner
between the door and seat and Derek kisses him again, sweetly, tries to get
Stiles confidence back up because he's been so good. Some of that he must have
said out loud because Stiles moans and holds onto his shoulders again, letting
him lick his own taste out of Stiles' mouth. He palms Stiles through his jeans
and if their position would have granted it, Stiles would have curled in on
himself, going tense all over and whining like he's hurt. Derek takes pity on
him and opens his fly, looks into Stiles eyes, even as the kid still can't look
at him and instead watches as Derek takes out his cock and starts stroking him,
nice and steady. His palm is dry but it seems to be more than enough for
Stiles, who squirms and gasps and tries and fails to hold his hips still. He's
so beautiful, blush high on his cheeks, face wet and open, shiny eyes trained
on Derek's hand on him as if he's still not sure this isn't all a dream.
"Fuck, you're perfect…"
Stiles looks up at him then, surprised, like no one has ever called him that
before, and Derek has to kiss that expression off his face until Stiles is a
trembling, moaning mess beneath him, holding onto Derek's T-shirt tight as he
comes messily all over it and his own and Derek's fingers. Derek strokes and
kisses him through it until Stiles pushes at his arm and whines from
oversensitivity. He lets his head fall back and watches Derek lick his come off
his fingers, groans at the action. He looks well fucked and kind of out of it
and Derek wants to take him home and wrap him in a blanket, keep him safe so no
one but him ever sees Stiles in this state.
When they've both calmed down, Stiles clears his throat and sniffs, looks back
out the window again and awkwardly tries to get his legs disentangled from
Derek's.
"So was this… actually a booty call…?" Stiles murmurs, sweetly sheepish now
even with his limp cock hanging out of his jeans' fly.
Derek sighs, tries to regain his posture when all he really wants to do is
nuzzle the boy's neck and fall asleep on top of him.
"No."
Amazingly, Stiles seems to calm at the word.
"I still need to know what you found."
Stiles nods, still doesn't look him in the eye. He blushes harder while he
rearranges himself and tucks everything back inside. It seems to Derek that he
licks his lips more than usual.
"Right… erm, well… let's get it over with then. I kinda want to find this
fucker sooner than later… I mean, I have better things to do than spend my
nights looking for clues about supernatural shit going on…"
Derek can't help the smirk that spreads on his face.
"Indeed" he says and Stiles blanches when he looks at him.
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