Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/11355279.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Teen_Wolf_(TV)
  Relationship:
      Derek_Hale/Stiles_Stilinski
  Character:
      Derek_Hale, Stiles_Stilinski, Sheriff_Stilinski, Chris_Argent
  Additional Tags:
      Sentinel/Guide_Bonding, Sentinel/Guide, Alternate_Universe_-_Sentinels_&
      Guides, Alternate_Universe_-_Sentinels_and_Guides_Are_Known, Bottom_Derek
      Hale, First_Time_Bottoming, Stiles_is_17
  Collections:
      Sterek_ReverseBang_2017
  Stats:
      Published: 2017-06-30 Words: 5212
****** Just Breathe, Derek ******
by DarkAthena_(seraphim_grace)
Summary
     When a Sentinel found a Guide that they were compatible with, and
     really really liked, they would go into a frenzy where they imprinted
     the Guide into their memory to serve as a kind of anchor, so the
     Guide was given the ability to pull the Sentinel out of a state where
     their senses overwhelmed them, or they became fixated on one of them.
     So, by placing them in a bonding suite, where they were surrounded by
     sense neutral confines, beige walls, sentinel friendly furnishings,
     scent and noise neutralisers, dimmed bulbs, they could imprint in
     peace.
 
“Is this normal?" Sentinel Noah Stilinski asked Guide Argent when he was told,
for the eighth day in a row, that his son was, yet again, not leaving the
bonding suite that the tower had placed him and his new Sentinel in. 
“Unfortunately,” Guide Argent said, closing the folder on his desk and standing
up. He had not expected Sentinel Stilinski to burst into his office, but, at
the same time, it was not unheard of. Sentinels were closer to their rage and
most bonding experiences only lasted two or three days, and it was best for the
new bond, and everyone else in the vicinity, if it was done in private in scent
neutral confines, “they’re not ready yet.”
When a Sentinel found a Guide that they were compatible with, and really really
liked, they would go into a frenzy where they imprinted the Guide into their
memory to serve as a kind of anchor, so the Guide was given the ability to pull
the Sentinel out of a state where their senses overwhelmed them, or they became
fixated on one of them.
So, by placing them in a bonding suite, where they were surrounded by sense
neutral confines, beige walls, sentinel friendly furnishings, scent and noise
neutralisers, dimmed bulbs, they could imprint in peace. The more scent neutral
the area the quicker the process took, sometimes it took a little shorter,
sometimes a little longer, but three weeks was a little excessive.
But at the same time Sentinel Hale was a Prime Sentinel and mostly they didn't
meet their Guides, the one person they decided was most compatible with them in
the entire world, in a shopping mall and have to be sedated and airlifted to
the tower because the Guide in question was considered latent and was only
seventeen and the Prime Sentinel managed to burn through his Guenidine, throw
said latent Guide over his shoulder, barricade himself in a dressing room and
bit the arm of one of the security guards who had tried to tell him that they
had contacted the local tower and that someone was coming to take them to a
bonding suite.
“They weren't "ready yet" two weeks ago, I have been coming here every day to
collect my son so I can try and get him back into school, and as far as I can
tell he’s been holed up in your bonding suite, is there a problem, is there
something you're not telling me? Is he hurt?”
“No!" Guide Argent blurted it out, “he is fine, Sentinel Hale could sooner cut
off his own hand than hurt him. It's just,” Guide Argent scrubbed his hand over
his face and beard with a long exhale and sighed. “This is something unusual,
Sentinel Hale is very powerful, he is an Alpha Sentinel, it means that when he
loses control he does so in a more explosive manner. I explained this all to
your son, we arranged for him to wake up before Sentinel Hale when we sedated
them, he was rather determined that he had been kidnapped and didn't quite
understand it all, I understand he was latent.”
“Where is my son?” Noah enunciated it. "I was bonded, the entire thing took two
days. I’m sure that you, Guide Argent, had a similar experience.”
Guide Argent pulled a face, the one that suggested he knew what Sentinel
Stilinski was saying, and he agreed with what Sentinel Stilinski was saying
however his hands were tied and he couldn't do anything about it but wait and
try to mollify Sentinel Stilinski. He had a job to do and that job was making
sure Sentinel Stilinski didn't get hurt interfering with this bonding, or that
he didn't end up with another Sentinel running naked through the Tower chasing
a phantom threat to their guide. Once was enough for that.
“Your son was bonded to a Alpha Prime, that makes things,” Argent paused, “I’ll
be honest, I have no fucking clue how long this will take, I do know they are
monitored, I do know your son is wearing an alarm bracelet and has alarms all
over the bonding suite, just in case, and if he presses that alarm, or the
bracelet registers his heart rate as being accelerated above the usual
parameters the entire room will be blanketed in a sedation mist. Everything we
can do to make sure both Sentinel and Guide come out of this fine we are doing,
the room is safe worded as well, so both of them can bring out the gas too.
“This is not our first bonding, Sentinel Stilinski, but it is our first Alpha
Prime and we're playing it by their timetable, the same way that the Tower
would have for your bonding, the way it did for mine.” He walked to a cabinet
behind his desk and pulled out a square bottle and placed it on the desk,
before going back for two glasses, “but I also have a daughter, a Sentinel, who
is about the same age, I do understand your concerns.” He poured two glasses
and handed one across to Sentinel Stilinski.
“You're a what, two sense D rating?” Argent continued, sipping his bourbon, “my
Sentinel is about the same, she’s hearing and touch, and in comparison to her I
might as well not have any sense receptors.”
“I have taste and smell," Sentinel Stilinski said, finally sitting down in the
desk.
“An alpha sentinel has all five senses, and a Prime has them rated A, to put
that in perspective an E rating has twice the vision of a non-sentinel, a D
rating, like yourself, has twice the vision plus twice the vision of the E
rating. Sentinel Alpha Prime Hale is A rated on all five senses, and rather
than his guide being an anchor to remind him of his humanity, he is more like a
beacon, an entire lighthouse in a sea of darkness. And I don't know how long
it's going to take, I know they're eating, food goes in and empty plates come
out, they're showering and changing the sheets, which is more than I expected,
but we have to work to their timetable.”
Sentinel Stilinski sighed, aware that Guide Argent was trying to guide him with
his empathy, and feeling that tickle against his Guenidine dampened senses was
reassuring even if he didn’t want it. He had been taking the drug since his own
Guide died seven years before.  “He's seventeen and he’s been in there for
three weeks.”
“I get it," Guide Argent said, “I really do. We have the entire Sentinel Nation
watching to see how this plays out because no one thought the Alpha Primes
would ever find a truly compatible guide, and well," he emptied his glass. “I
would love to be able to give you the two of them, I really would, it’s been
three weeks," he was just as exasperated as Sentinel Stilinski about the entire
thing. “We’ve gone through more laundry in those three weeks than we have in
the last three months, I actually had to go to the drug store myself yesterday,
and you get some damn strange looks when you're buying five maxi sized bottles
of lubricant because the Tower's stores are used up. They gave me a box of
single-use packets free because I spent that much on the company card.
“I didn’t think I could be embarrassed in a CVS anymore, I have a wife and a
daughter, I have no shame when it comes to these things, tampons, pads,
menstrual cups, creams for thrush or vaginosis, nothing bothers me and I was
embarrassed, I spent over five hundred dollars on condoms and lubricant, I
cleaned them out, because they have cleaned us out- The entire tower. I had to
restock.
“Then there is the meal replacement shakes, they didn't last three weeks, and
it's another three weeks before I get another shipment in, they’ve been getting
food. They're not supposed to get food, Sentinel friendly high fat meal
replacement shakes, so as not to upset their stomachs but full of calories.
“I actually sent in a fucking trifle yesterday, because the kitchens were
making it as dessert and it's high fat and easily digestible. If you think you
can get them out of that room go for it, I’m done. I get it, I'd be half mad
with worry if it was my daughter, but we are doing all we can, and I get it
doesn't seem like much, but our hands are as tied as yours. We can't send
someone in case Sentinel Hale takes it as a threat to his Guide whilst he's
sense-drunk, and if they’re not ready, they’re not ready.
“Yes, these things normally take days, we’re prepared for days," he poured
himself another glass of bourbon and emptied it, “right now all I can do is say
go home, and I’ll call you if it looks like they’re going to come out.” He
groaned, "I've been on duty since they've come in, I've not been home either,
next time we check in with Guide Stilinski, I’ll ask him if he has a message
for you, but believe me, Sentinel, we’re doing all we can.”
 
—-
 
They'd actually managed to get dressed today, that’s how close that Stiles got
to leaving the bonding suite, then as Derek was buttoning up his shirt he said
something, and there was a bit of a grin on his lips and that was it, they were
kissing again and clothes were in the way. They were so in the way neither
actually bothered to remove them. 
Stiles didn't even remember what it was that Derek said, just that all of a
sudden his fingers were in the fabric of Derek's shirt and fumbling with the
buttons whilst they pressed their mouths together, trying to press themselves
together closer. “I can't," Stiles protested, "I really really want to but I
can't,” this was said between kisses as Derek kissed at his neck, licking and
scraping the skin with his teeth like Stiles’ neck wasn't already a high collar
of hickeys. "Oh man," Stiles protested as he dug the tips of his fingers into
the meat of Derek's shoulder. Derek was as covered in bruises as Stiles himself
was. “The spirit is more than willing," he groaned into Derek’s mouth when it
came up to meet his, “but the flesh is weak, abraded and kinda sore.”
Derek sucked the lobe of Stiles’ ear into his mouth, biting down just lightly
enough that Stiles ground his hips into Derek's. “Derek, please," Stiles said,
“a moment to think," his hands didn’t stop stroking up and down Derek's arms,
“I had to ask them for something today," he buried his face in Derek's shoulder
as he said it, "I had to ask them for some cream, for down there," Derek was
chuckling into his shoulder, “they gave me a butt plug to put it on with,"
Derek growled and Stiles wasn't sure it was because he liked the idea of Stiles
plugged up or because he hated the idea that something other than himself was
inside Stiles.
“I’m sore, I’m sure if you tried to put a stick of butter up there right now it
would feel like it was wrapped in sandpaper.” They’d had three weeks locked
alone in the room with nothing to do but talk and have sex, and Derek actually
seemed to like it when Stiles spoke before his mouth caught up.
Derek laughed, “well how about you fuck me instead?” he said as he pushed his
hand down Stiles briefs, sentinel friendly cotton jersey, and started to toy
with the plug in his ass. “Give this," he twisted the plug, “a rest.”
"I hate you so much right now," Stiles told him, as Derek,  sat against one of
the tables in the centre of the outer room to their bonding suite, one that the
staff had been using to leave food, knowing the inner room could be locked and
they could work, now they had taken over what Stiles had been calling the
airlock for their fucking. They’d gotten that close to being able to not touch
each other long enough to actually leave the suite.
Derek was grinning, and Stiles loved to see him smile like that, it wasn't an
expression that he found comfortably.
“Have you ever?” Stiles asked, he was stood in the space between Derek's legs,
Derek had lost his trousers somewhere, but had kept his briefs, and socks, and
for some reason, although Stiles had been raised by the media to think of the
sock gap as a genuine thing, he found it really sexy.
“Never wanted to," he shrugged, “but I want to with you.” With one hand Derek
was scratching through the hair at the back of Stiles’ neck, which he had
learned almost turned Stiles’ knees to jelly, and the other lightly tapping
against the plug in his ass. “Do you want to?”
Stiles was, by his nature, loquacious, he talked, a lot. He talked in his
sleep; he talked when he drove; he talked in the shower, and Derek liked to
hear him talk but in that moment every word that Stiles knew vanished from his
head. It was as if a great trapdoor was in the back of his head, where Derek
was scratching, and he had unlatched it for all of his smarts to fall out. He
made a noise, it was an unmanly noise which started off as a word and ended as
a squeak like his voice was breaking all over again and Derek just laughed.
It was a whole body laugh, “you like the idea then?” he asked.
Stiles tried to speak again. He impersonated a goldfish for a few long moments.
"I thought it was something we’d do eventually," he admitted, “that I'd be able
to talk you around, you're a Sentinel, you’re..."
Derek put his finger to Stiles’ lips, “gendered nonsense, you're a Guide, not a
girl, I know that, I've spent the last however many days quite enjoying that
you are not a girl, you are my guide," there was a possessive growl to his
voice as he spoke, “mine, and if that means I want your cock in my ass I’ll
tear the throat out of anyone who argues," he sucked another bruise on Stiles’
jaw, “with my teeth.”
“Sentinel Alpha bullshit," Stiles said, “thinking I’d want you with bloody
teeth.”
Derek rocked his hips forward, “like you haven't thought about it.”
Stiles gave him a shrug, he didn't want to admit that he hadn't thought about
it but was certainly thinking about it now. Who knew that he would have a thing
for his Sentinel, his, and that was so new and wonderful and unexpected that he
kept catching on the idea, being vicious and almost feral.
Derek was an Alpha Prime which meant his senses were jacked, but it also meant
he was closer to feral than most sentinels, and he was stronger, faster,
because he was an Alpha Prime, so he could carry Stiles about like a stuffed
toy, which also kinda did it for him, “do we have any lube left?” Stiles asked,
because sometimes he had to be the practical one, it wasn't often and he didn't
expect Derek to get used to it, “because that cream they gave me isn't very
slick.”
“A few of those single use packets," Derek admitted, "I want to do it here,
though,” he said, “want to lie back on this table whilst you open me up, so the
next time they bring us our meals we know that we fucked there, that you fucked
me there." Stiles made the noise again, he couldn’t help it, and the more he
made it the more Derek laughed, and Stiles wanted to make Derek laugh so he
wasn't as mortified as he had been when they started this and Stiles made the
noise to every sex act that Derek suggested.
Stiles had gone to the mall a virgin with a latent guide gene that had seen him
unfit to even be trained, and ended up in a bonding suite with an Alpha Prime
Sentinel who was quite content to do things to Stiles' body, with his consent,
that pretty much made sure that no part of Stiles could be considered virginal
anymore - take that Jackson Whittemore who had been teasing Stiles about that
just before he had actually gone to the mall where he had met his sentinel,
his.
He might have been as possessive as Derek was.
And what had truly surprised Stiles, because when he had first woken up, with
Derek still sedated in the bed beside him, Guide Argent had told him a lot and
given him an information packet to skim through which told him that Derek was
taciturn and he was not to be offended if he was preverbal for at least the
first few hours, some sentinels became so when in the bonding madness, as he
called it - was that Derek talked, and he listened, and he laughed, and there
was time they would lie in bed doing nothing but talking, with Derek pressed up
tight inside him, draped over him like a blanket, playing with his earlobes
with his fingers as he tried to memorise the texture of the skin, including the
divot where Stiles had had his ear pierced and then took out the stud after it
had healed because he slept on his side, at least at the start, and it stabbed
him in the back of the head.
Derek listened and talked, and he was clearly delighted with Stiles, as if he
had won the lottery and he told him so, often, and not just when they were
fucking.
So Stiles wanted to make this special for him, he wanted to make it as good for
Derek as Derek had made it for him, and that made him nervous, even with Derek
leaning into him, his weight supported by the table, and his heat leeching
through the air between them and his fingers, one hand in his hair and the
other, in his briefs, tapping lightly on the plug Stiles wore.
“Can I, can I eat you out?” Stiles asked, stammering through it.
Derek rocked forward, unto his feet, and slipped his briefs to the floor,
before climbing back onto the table to lie with his feet on the wood and his
knees bent, “can you reach me like this?” he asked, “or do you need me to turn
over?”
It was kind of awe inspiring the sight in front of him, Derek lay across the
table like a masterpiece, shirt open, wife beater rucked up, cock erect and
balls taut, hairy thighs spread and feet and ankles covered in black wool.
"I,” Stiles started, reaching out to run his hand over Derek's cock, just a
light stroke because he wasn't sure what else he should do with his hands, “I,”
he sort of stumbled forward, between Derek's legs to kiss him, to shove their
mouths together. They had hoped that the mating frenzy had calmed, but Stiles
wasn't sure it was ever going to end- this wanting.
Derek was cupping Stiles face, fingertips against his orbital bones, and mouth
sucking against Stiles’ own, whilst Stiles’ stroked his hands up Derek’s side,
up under his shirt, pushed up his wifebeater to expose his nipples. He was
spread out like a feast and he was Stiles’ to devour, and it made Stiles feel
powerful.
The media made out that Guides were soft, almost feminine, they were there just
to keep powerful, Sentinels fed and make them look more masculine in how they
protected their Guide, but the reality felt very different. He suddenly wanted
to take his favourite Sentinel novel, in which a Sentinel went rogue to
eliminate the terrorist organisation that killed his guide, and throwing it out
of the window as a bunch of hokum.
Derek needed Stiles as much as Stiles needed Derek and that puffed up his ego
like he was a peacock.
He moved down Derek's body, placing laving kisses, the ones that Derek liked,
on each nipple, just enough that they were wet and would contract in the air of
the mating suite, before kissing his way down his sternum, not touching his
stomach, because Derek didn't like that, and placing a few, wet, slobbery
kisses on the head of his cock, then trailed the tip of his tongue, pushed into
a point, down the vein on the underside of his cock, and then sucked first one
ball, then the other, into his mouth, nosing into the more sparse hair there,
before spitting into his hand, with what saliva he had left, smearing it around
and using his wet palm to lift Derek's balls up, rolling them around a little
as he did so, as Derek groaned out a “fuck.”
“Do you need to dial down your touch?” Stiles asked, licking his lips, “is it
too much?”
Derek reached down and grabbed his wifebeater in his hands where he had been
clutching the desk so hard it was creaking and stuffed it in his mouth before
letting his head fall back down. Content that Derek would say something if his
senses would spike, Stiles watched as Derek put his hands under his thighs and
opened himself up, baring himself entirely to Stiles.
Stiles bent down, taking a deep breath through of his nose before he laved his
tongue over the muscle and listened to Derek groan.
Stiles ate Derek out with gusto, enjoying the way Derek squirmed under his
tongue, making noises into the fabric of his wifebeater, so Stiles spread his
hands on the place on Derek's thighs where they met his ass, that wondrous
crease, and held him open even more so he could get more of his mouth there,
laving and sucking and even scraping it with his teeth, before spearing his
tongue against the muscle, opening it to his mouth.
Derek was hot and tight inside, and groaning and trying to press his ass
further into Stiles’ mouth and Stiles doing this to him, Stiles himself was so
hard it almost hurt, but he wanted to keep doing this, he wanted to bring
pleasure to this man spread in front of him, he wanted to take his time and
learn him in the way that Derek had spent the last three weeks learning him,
inside and out.
“Use your fingers,” Derek said, spitting out the fabric, “open me up for your
cock.”
That was when Stiles realized that although they had lube it was in the basket
by the bed, which was all the way across the room. “Hold that pose," Stiles
said, moving back and half running half falling across the room to get to the
basket, “thank you Guide Argent for getting us more lube," he said as he
scrabbled across the floor to get back to him, “he’s like the infamous lube
fairy," and laughed at his own joke, aware that he really needed to get his
head into the game, as it were, followed by his brain singing the song from
High School Musical, “gotta, gotta getcha head in the game.” He never claimed
to be consistent in this, even he didn't know how his brain worked sometimes.
And Derek clearly saw it because he chuckled.
Seeing Derek and knowing that he was an alpha prime Sentinel, one who has all
five senses rated A, people immediately assumed he would have one of those deep
masculine voices, like Jason Statham, all gravel, and gunpowder, but his voice
was surprisingly soft, a tenor, not a baritone. “Come here,” he said, and
Stiles’ jaw dropped and with it, the lube fell to the floor, so he had to bend
down to pick it back up, although the packets seemed as slippery as their
contents he was that fumble fingered.
He managed to get back across the room and dumped the packets, he must have
picked up at least ten, on Derek's stomach, and Derek' laughed as they fell to
the desk on either side of him.
Stiles picked one up and tore it open with his teeth, “ick, honey flavored," he
said scrubbing his teeth over his tongue and then squeezed the contents over
Derek's ass, it was cold so Derek hissed on contact which made Stiles
apologetic and even more panicky.
“You're not going to hurt me," Derek said softly.
Stiles made a noise of protest but Derek cut him off quickly, “when I fingered
you and I caught you with my nail what did you say?”
“Ow,” Stiles said.
“And I stopped straight away, and I know if I say stop you will stop, I won't
let you hurt me," Derek said, “at all, I trust you to do this,” Stiles pursed
his lips together, “give me your hand.”
Derek took his hand off his thigh, but didn't remove it from under his leg,
holding his leg up without the help, and took Stiles’ hand, fumbling about so
he could hold two fingers out and curl the others underneath. He rubbed the
tips of his fingers against the slick that was dripping down Derek's taint, and
then pressed them against the furled muscle, which gave under the pressure and
then the tip of Stiles' fingers were inside where it was hot and tight and
clutching, and Derek's eyes widened a moment at the breach, but luckily Stiles
didn't see it because his eyes were fixed on the point where he was penetrating
Derek.
“Go on," Derek said and pushed down with his hips, rolling back onto Stiles'
fingers with a groan, “it's good.”  Derek used his hand to pull Stiles’ fingers
back and push them back in, making circles to loosen the muscle.
Stiles was speechless, perhaps for the first time in his life.
“You can do more," Derek said, and his voice was ragged, his hips rolling back,
“use another finger.”
“I need more lube," Stiles said, and Derek didn't contradict him, more was
better and if it made Stiles more comfortable he was happy to be a little
squelchy. It was the word that Stiles had used when Derek had been a little
eager and used nearly a whole tube in Stiles’ ass after the fifth time that day
when he accidentally squeezed the tube a bit too much. It was hard to think
about things like lube when Stiles was sucking on his balls.
Stiles made a triangle with his fingers, took another packet of the lube and
ripped it open with his teeth, pouring this one over the hand still in Derek's’
ass, pushing the lube inside, and rubbing around to spread the slick. “Feels
good,” Derek reassured him, head back and mouth open, “oh, just there, there.”
He tried to angle Stiles' fingers so that they would touch there again, “do you
see it, my Guide making me feel so good, look at it, you’re making me so proud,
so good, it’s so good.”
He was red-faced, and his wifebeater was rucked up under his armpits, his shirt
open and one of his socks had slipped down around his ankle, he had one hand
holding up his thighs, and the other was holding Stiles’ wrist, “so good,
Guide, so good.” He wasn't capable of saying much more.
Derek had never really investigated his ass, as a Sentinel sex was problematic
for him, he could easily lose himself in a fugue but Stiles' scent was in his
nose, and his heartbeat was in his ears, and the taste of him in his mouth
keeping him grounded, even the feel of him twisting his fingers inside him.
Stiles picked up another packet of lube, tearing it open so there was a burst
of artificial honey scent and then Stiles did something Derek could not see, a
wet slapping sound, that suggested he was slicking up his cock, and Derek let
go of Stiles' wrist, reaching out for it, to bring the head of his cock up
against his wrist.
Stiles swallowed as he pushed his cock into Derek's hand, the angle was new but
this they knew. “I," Stiles started but Derek pulled him forward, pushing him
against where the fingers of the other hand were stretching him open.
“You're so good for me, so good for me,” Derek said, and lifted his legs to
rest them on Stiles’ side, “my Guide, mine," and with that Stiles pushed the
head of his cock inside and Derek moaned, he couldn't help it, and Stiles made
a sort of high pitched noise and sort of fell forward, putting his hands around
Derek's waist and lunged forward with his hips, he couldn't help it, and Derek
just moaned into it, as Stiles started to stutterfuck into him, too new, too
nervous to do anything this, but damn him if it didn't feel good, there was
some stretching but no burning, Stiles had used too much slick for that, and it
was squelching creating a wet slap slap slap as Stiles drove his hips into him.
There was no finesse, little more than Stiles jackrabbiting into him as Derek
groaned and clutching Stiles' forearms to try and pull him in closer, to pull
more of him inside because it felt so good, this was his Guide, his, and he was
rubbing up against this place inside him that felt like magic and fugue and
frenzy all in one go and Derek was so close, his cock heavy and hot and wet on
his stomach, smearing trails of precum, “so close," Stiles stammered.
"Me too," Derek groaned, “more, just a little more.”
Stiles came with a wail, slamming his hips hard into Derek as if to push
himself inside even further and then sort of fell forward into a kiss with
Derek, Derek's cock forgotten between them for long moments whilst they kissed,
but then Stiles slid backwards, and took Derek's cock in his mouth like he was
hungry for it, his hand, slick circling the bottom and the very touch had Derek
arching up off the desk with a cry, then falling back when the orgasm was done
with him.
Stiles sort of fell to his ass on the floor looking up at Derek as they both
panted for breath.
“So yeah," he said finally, “that happened.”
“Yeah," Derek agreed, a little breathlessly, “and it’s going to happen again,"
he added on as a caveat. He wanted to reassure Stiles that it had been good,
even if he felt a bit empty now, and definitely squelchy. There would be time
to refine technique later.
They were quiet for a few minutes, letting their brains unscramble and sharing
the silence in an intimacy that Stiles could not have imagined but Derek was
glad to experience with him. “D’ya think," Stiles began, “tomorrow?” he left it
open meaning that they might leave the mating suite tomorrow. They'd be
together for life, but they could see his dad and get back to normal when they
were out.
“Yeah," Derek said, “maybe tomorrow.”
 
 
 
Please drop_by_the_archive_and_comment to let the author know if you enjoyed
their work!