Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/939303.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Teen_Wolf_(TV)
  Relationship:
      Derek_Hale/Stiles_Stilinski
  Character:
      Derek_Hale, Stiles_Stilinski, Kate_Argent, Laura_Hale, Sheriff_Stilinski
  Additional Tags:
      ghost!stiles, Alternate_Universe_-_Human, Voyeurism, Established
      Relationship, Plot_What_Plot/Porn_Without_Plot
  Stats:
      Published: 2013-08-24 Words: 1446
****** Laura Was Right ******
by Sheepnamedpig
Summary
     The first and last time Derek and his ghost boyfriend ever have sex
     in front of a mirror.
Derek feels Stiles coalesce as just as he starts stripping down for his usual
post-work shower. Cool hands untuck his shirt from his slacks as he unbuttons
the sleeves, then circle around to unbuckle his belt.
"Thought you were hiding from me," Derek says. He shrugs off the shirt and
drops it on the bed.
"Naw. Kate followed you home again, so I had to go chase her away," the ghost
answers, hands chilly on Derek’s back as he helps peel the thin tank top up and
over Derek’s head.
"I hope you didn’t throw things again. The neighbors are getting suspicious."
"Psh, they already know this place is haunted as fuck. Besides, who’re they
gonna call, Father Stilinski? He won’t exorcise his surrogate son guy. Who
would he watch the Mets with if I was gone?" Stiles quips. "And no, I just
heated up the sidewalk under her feet until she had to, heh, hotfoot it out of
there." He steps over to the bedside table and tips his head in its direction
with a questioning look.
Derek nods. A pre-shower fuck would be nice. Stiles opens the drawer and gets
the lube while Derek steps out of his slacks and underwear, toeing off his
socks last. He hears a noise behind him and looks over his shoulder to see
Stiles pulling the full-length standing mirror over near the bed.
"What’s that for?" he asks.
Stiles smirks broadly. “Fun sex things. You’ll like it.”
Derek snorts. “What I’d like is for Kate to stop stalking me. And to stop
calling my family and telling them we’re dating when we’re barely
acquaintances.”
"We can ask Dad," Stiles says, referring to Father Stilinski. Derek thinks it’s
cute that the whole surrogate son thing goes both ways. "He probably knows
someone from his Sheriffing days who can get you a restraining order."
"Yeah. Sounds good." Derek sits on the edge of the bed facing the mirror. He
gives his hardening cock a few tugs and watches it fatten up in his reflection.
Meanwhile, Stiles circles the room, turning on the lights now that the sun is
slipping behind the hills. Derek watches. He always looks a little more solid
at night, like a real living person instead of a faded, slightly transparent
apparition.
"So, I was thinking," Stiles says, bouncing on his toes as he wills away his
clothes, "You know how I can go invisible?"
Derek nods, already sensing where this is going.
"Right, well I thought that maybe you’d like to see what I see when I fuck you
without me getting in the way."
In the mirror, Derek can see his ears and cheeks turning red. Yeah, so he’s
always been a little shy about what he looks like during sex, but there’s
legitimate trauma there, ever since Laura walked in on him jerking off under
his covers and then spent months making fun of the dumb, cross-eyed expression
he made when he came whenever the adults were out of earshot. Stiles assures
Derek all the time that his sex faces are appropriately sexy, but Derek is
skeptical.
Stiles piles pillows on the bed behind Derek, who obediently leans back, eyes
darting between Stiles and the mirror as Stiles kneels between Derek’s thighs.
Derek wiggles closer to the edge of the bed and drapes a leg over Stiles’
shoulder.
The lube on Stiles’ fingers is cold against Derek’s ass cheeks and he twitches,
focusing his attention on Stiles’ face. He’s grinning widely, even as he mouths
at the base of Derek’s cock and sucks his balls into his wide mouth.
Distracted, Derek barely feels the first finger slip inside.
The second is noticeable enough, familiar after how many times they’ve done
this, and the third follows soon after, a warm stretch.
"Scootch," Stiles says, nudging Derek up against his pile of pillows. Derek
goes, making room at the edge of the bed for Stiles, who kneels and guides his
bare, slicked cock into Derek’s ass. It’s easy and comforting and so good after
another stressful day at work. Derek moans and rocks his hips down into the
cradle of Stiles’ hips and lets his legs hang over Stiles’ spread thighs,
content to let Stiles do all the work.
"Fuck," Stiles grunts. "I love how easy you open for me."
"Self defense, you being the horny little bastard you are," Derek says,
smirking. 
"Forever young, I want to be forever young," Stiles warbles. He plants his
hands on either side of Derek’s ribs and begins rocking steadily into him.
Derek slides his hands up Stiles’ abdomen to tweak and tug his nipples. Stiles
leans into the touch, a solid, tingling pressure against Derek’s callused
palms.
They shift further onto the bed, Derek curled between the heap of pillows and
Stiles body as Stiles lays into him, fucking him with the long, steady strokes
he knows drive Derek absolutely crazy. Derek just takes it, his eyes drooping
closed and his toes curling with every pass of Stiles’ cock over his prostate.
"Holy god, but you feel good," Stiles gasps, leaning down to catch Derek’s
mouth. "If you’d been around when I was alive, I’d never have let myself die
like a chump."
Derek laughs, then gasps as Stiles gives him a few brisk thrusts before slowing
back down. “Seeing as,” he says breathily, “seeing as you died saving my great
grandfather, if you’d, oh fuck, there, if you’d lived he’d have died and I’d
never exi-oh fuck yeah-exist.”
Stiles gets his hands into the crooks of Derek’s knees and pushes them toward
Derek’s chest, opening his ass right up for a sinuous grind. Derek tips his
head back against the pillows and grips Stiles’ waist with pressure-white
fingers.
"Heaven forbid," Stiles says. He adjust his knees, squishing Derek further into
the pillows, and starts pounding into Derek’s wide open hole. Derek shouts and
claws blindly at Stiles’ back, curling up off the bed and wrapping his arms
around his broad ribcage. His hands slip, sweat on ghostly sweat, and he
presses his face into Stiles’ throat as Stiles fucks him with abandon.
"Look," Stiles says. "Look in the mirror."
Derek’s eyes flutter open to discover that Stiles has gone invisible in his
arms. He looks through him into the mirror and sees—
God, he sees himself, red and sweaty and debauched, his knees wantonly spread
and his ass gaping open around Stiles’ invisible cock. It rhythmically dilates
and contracts as Stiles’ cock saws in and out, and when Derek tilts his hips
just so, the light shines in and Derek can see how pink and wet he is inside,
how wanting and needing and greedy he is. He watches his own face contort, his
eyebrows scrunching as his mouth falls open, lips red and shiny and swollen.
Stiles reaches between them, his hand edging into visibility as he starts
jacking Derek’s cock, and Derek makes a face like porn, but not the
professional stuff,face like porn as in the really amateur stuff where nobody
is acting and the pleasure is animal and the orgasms so genuine. He watches his
face go plaintive and desperate as Stiles strokes him, long ghostly fingers
pale against his blood-flushed cock. The muscles of his torso ripple as he gets
close, sweat shining on a bright sex flush, and Derek forces his eyes open as
he comes, watching his hole clench around Stiles’ cock and his balls twitch as
they send sperm up through Derek’s twitching cock and out onto his chest and
belly. Derek watches himself twitch and shudder through the aftershocks as
Stiles fucks him through his orgasm. He flickers into visibility as he comes,
his body a taut arch over Derek as his hips rut and grind against Derek’s ass.
A few minutes later, when they’ve cooled down and cuddled up, Derek stuffs his
head under his pillow and moans, “Ugh, Laura was right.”
"Hmm?" Stiles mumbles drowsily into his shoulder.
"My O face. She said my eyes cross and I make a dumb face and she was
totally right.”
"Yeah," Stiles agrees casually. "But it’s seriously the hottest dumb-and-cross-
eyed look ever, so I wouldn't sweat it if I were you."
Derek whines and pulls another pillow up to cover his head.
Stiles pats his back. “If it makes you feel better, I love you and I think
you’re beautiful even when you’re dumb and cross-eyed because I know I was the
one who made you that way.”
And okay, that makes Derek feel a little bit better, but still. Most of him
still can't get over the fact that Laura, of all people, was right.
Please drop_by_the_archive_and_comment to let the author know if you enjoyed
their work!