Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/1032683.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Teen_Wolf_(TV)
  Relationship:
      Derek_Hale/Stiles_Stilinski
  Additional Tags:
      Established_Relationship, Plot_What_Plot/Porn_Without_Plot, Gags, Bottom
      Derek
  Series:
      Part 3 of Teen_Wolf_Kink_Meme_Fills
  Collections:
      TNW_Kink_Meme
  Stats:
      Published: 2013-11-05 Words: 1459
****** Hush (I'm Gonna Make You Scream) ******
by hexthejinx
Summary
     Stiles doesn't mind Derek being loud when they have sex. Most of the
     time. But with the Sheriff downstairs it becomes quite an issue and
     they could use a bit quieter behavior. Luckily for all of them,
     Stiles is a resourceful person.
Notes
     Another fill for TW_Kink_Meme (man, I'm on fire with these).
     Prompt.
     I turned the prompt around a little bit because I really wanted to do
     it with bottom!Derek. Enjoy!
See the end of the work for more notes
Derek Hale posses more self-control than anyone Stiles knows. It has probably a
lot to do with being a born werewolf, trying to live among people. He had to
learn how to keep from shifting in front of outsiders at a very young age, how
to avoid flashing his eyes or growing his fangs even when he was angry. But
nevermind a life-long experience at keeping himself in check. All of this goes
out of the window when they're screwing.
Usually Stiles doesn't mind. It's sort of a praise of his sex skills that he
can make Derek so far gone he loses his ability to contain himself, right? And
anyway, they spend most of their private time at the loft, where it's not an
issue. But sometimes, Isaac has a company over. Or Peter lurks around and
refuses to leave even when Derek snarls at him. Fighting about it with either
of them is pointless and unproductive so at times like these Stiles and Derek
retreat to the Stilinski house. And then it becomes an issue.
"Goddammit, Derek!" Stiles hisses, slowly working his finger in and out of
Derek's ass. "Be quiet!"
The Sheriff is downstairs in the living room. Stiles can hear the hushed sounds
of the TV even with the door to his bedroom closed and knowing his father, he's
probably dozing off on the couch already. Still, Stiles doesn't want to risk
him hearing something and coming up to check on his son. The Sheriff finding
out about him dating a six year older guy is one thing, but walking on them
having sex is something Stiles never wants to experience.
"Sorry," Derek mutters, looking rebuked. The silence lasts for about fifteen
seconds it takes Stiles to smear the lube over his fingers and put them back
inside Derek, this time adding the second one. The answering whimper is quiet
but once Stiles' fingers brush his prostate it morphs into a sharp moan.
"Shit," Stiles curses, freezing. He listens for a moment for any suspicious
noises from downstairs but there's nothing beside a dull rumble of voices from
some talk show. That was close, though.
"Okay, that's enough," he says, mildly annoyed but no less horny because of
that. Another glob of lube is used to slick his cock.
"I'm trying, okay? It's just..." Derek says, sounding already breathy, even
though they've barely started.
"I know," Stiles assures him, leaning to the side and grabbing the first piece
of fabric he can reach.
It turns out to be his briefs, tossed carelessly over when they stripped. He
almost puts them away, but then... why not?
He aligns himself at Derek's entrance and slowly pushes inside, revealing in
the tight, warm heat enveloping his cock. When Derek gasps, mouth opened wide
and another moan threatening to fall out of it, Stiles stuffs it with the
balled up underwear.
He expects Derek to spit it out and shout 'what the fuck, Stiles?'. After all,
it's his briefs and they aren't even fresh; Stiles has worn them for the whole
day. Instead, Derek moans again, only this time the sound gets lost in the
folds of the fabric. Feeling bolder, Stiles adjust the makeshift gag with his
fingers, making sure it fits snuggly and won't fall out by itself.
"Now, that's much better, isn't it?" he asks, smirking at Derek. The werewolf
answers by clenching his ass, urging Stiles to go on.
“Mm, pushy,” Stiles murmurs but rolls his hips and start to move them, slipping
out almost completely and pushing back in.
His movements, initially slow and teasing, quickly change to something much
more vigorous. He fucks Derek fast and deep, the way the werewolf likes, and
Derek punctuates each thrust with a new noise. But this time each little groan,
gasp or whine he lets out gets muffled by Stiles’ briefs. Stiles pants loudly,
grunting every once in a while and the bed creaks a little as they sway
together but otherwise the room is silent.
The fabric of the briefs darkens where it touches the corner of Derek’s mouth.
Stiles assumes that the gag makes his mouth produce more saliva the usual and
for some reason he finds it really hot. He adjusts the hold he has on Derek,
hoisting his knees a bit higher before changing the angle slightly. The new
position apparently works really well for Derek, if the way he tilts his head
back and clutches at the bedspread is any indication. Stiles can’t resist the
long expanse of Derek’s neck, bared in front of him like an invitation. He dips
his head to suck on the warm skin, running his tongue along the prominent vein
on the side. Then he uses his arms to lift up his torso and hover over Derek.
“Touch yourself,” he orders quietly.
Derek obeys, fisting his cock with his hand, trying to match the rhythm of
Stiles’ thrust. A new litany of muted whimpers resonates in the small bedroom.
Stiles decides he likes this sounds much better than the regular unbounded
noises Derek makes when they’re having sex in the privacy of the loft.
Something about them makes that hot sensation in Stiles’ belly uncoil and
spread over his whole body. He keeps his eyes locked on Derek’s face, loving
the sight of his half closed eyes and gag stretching his mouth wide.
He slows down, pelvis moving in small jerks, and shifts his weight on one
elbow. Derek’s hand and cock are now trapped against Stiles’ stomach, his
movements impeded. Stiles uses his free hand to trace a finger around Derek’s
mouth, tracing the wet trail where some of the drool escaped his mouth and ran
down his chin.
“You’re gorgeous.”
Derek looks like he wants to smile but he can’t with his mouth full. His eyes
find Stiles’ and the boy reads everything he needs to know in the heated gaze.
“Yeah, I know,” he murmurs, leaning down to kiss the corner of Derek’s lips.
Stiles resumes his previous pace, grinding down with practiced force, rolling
his hips every time he’s buried deep inside Derek. A few more flicks of his
wrist and Derek is coming, shooting all over his hand and chest. He cries out
in pleasure, biting on the briefs. Stiles is so glad he’s put them there as it
would be impossible for his father not to hear it if Derek weren’t gagged. He’s
close too and with Derek’s ass clenching on his dick erratically it takes only
a couple more pushes to finish. He grunts when he comes, collapsing on Derek in
a boneless heap.
Sometimes later, could be several seconds or several minutes, Stiles raises his
head and gently removes the gag from Derek’s mouth. The briefs are soaked in
spit, pierced where Derek’s fangs elongated as the orgasm overtook him. Stiles
throws them to the side, thinking he probably won’t get to wear them ever
again. He doesn’t mind.
“Are you alright?” he asks, stroking Derek’s cheek.
Derek moves his jaw from left to right, working out the tension caused by too
much stretching.
“’m good,” he whispers.
Stiles rolls over of Derek but stays close, leg draped over the werewolf’s,
fingers dancing on the other’s chest.
“So,” he says conversationally. “I may be mistaken but it seems like you
enjoyed my little initiative?”
“Maybe,” Derek replies but he’s smiling so Stiles knows he’s right.
“Me too,” Stiles admits, feeling a little sheepish but the post-sex contentment
overrides anything else and besides, if Derek’s not complaining, then Stiles as
hell doesn’t have any reason to do it. “Maybe next time we could do it again?
But this time I’ll be prepared. Like, I can get a scarf or something.”
Derek doesn’t speak for a while, pondering something. Then he asks, “Do you
have a duct tape?”
“It is somewhere, for sure,” he waves his hand around, indicating the mess his
cluttered room is. Then he realizes the implications of the question. “Do you
want... oh my God.”
Derek raises an eyebrow, a small smile still present on his lips. “Why not? And
if you have enough I’ll let you bound my wrists too.”
“You’ll...” Stiles’ eyes brighten and he lowers his head to give Derek a quick
kiss before he jumps out of the bed and starts rummaging in his desk drawers.
“You know,” Derek remarks dryly, watching in amusement as Stiles searches for
the tape frantically. “I may be a werewolf but I still have a refractory
period.”
“You’ll be good by the time I’ve finally found the damn tape... Where are you,
you little sticky shit?” Stiles curses, diving under his desk.
Derek leans on the pillow and laughs until Stiles throws a pencil at him.
End Notes
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