Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/880374.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      No_Archive_Warnings_Apply, Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Teen_Wolf_(TV)
  Relationship:
      Derek_Hale/Stiles_Stilinski, sterek_-_Relationship
  Character:
      Derek_Hale, Stiles_Stilinski
  Additional Tags:
      Full_Moon, Werewolf!Derek, alpha!Derek, Horny!Derek, Masturbation, Forced
      to_come, sort_of, Werewolf_hearing, Scenting_sort_of, lots_of_fucking,
      Kissing, sterek
  Stats:
      Published: 2013-07-12 Words: 1941
****** Moonlit Desires ******
by ArchangelRoman
Summary
     The moon is out and Derek's emotions are heightened, including his
     already potent desire. What happens when Derek goes out for a run to
     cool off, but accidentally catches his name, full of pleasure and
     want, whispering through the wind.
Notes
     Ummm... I hope you like it, it came from nowhere and I just had to go
     with it.
See the end of the work for more notes
The moon is at its zenith, a big, bright and powerful beauty so close that one
could reach out and pluck it from the sky. Thousands of stars make dazzling
abstract art around the moon, twinkling like diamonds against a midnight
backdrop.
And Derek kind of hates it. The moon taunts him with its power, calling to him,
demanding him to change, take to the wild and allow his wolf to stride. The
funny thing is that he kind of does want to do that, just loosen the reins on
his self control for one night, just once, and let himself loose to forget
about the desire sitting like a boulder in his abdomen.
So he does. From his sitting position in the only surviving room of the Hale
house, Derek gets up and takes off at a sprint, stripping out of his too-hot
long-sleeve to his wife-beater underneath , and soaring out of the second story
window. He lands in a stable crouch, uninjured. In a matter of seconds his
irises bleed from green to red, his canines elongate in synchronization with
his claws, fur and sideburns.
The wind, though probably stinging to the mortals if they could travel the
speed of an alpha wolf, is nothing against his skin as he whips through the
woods at top speed and forgetting everything, letting his instinct take. He
lets himself run wild, but not so much as to completely lose control. At the
same time he attempts to cool his overheated skin.
Everything Derek sees is tinted red. His senses are heightened, allowing him to
pass easily through the woods by barreling over upturned earth and easily
gliding under hanging branches. It was so easy in fact, that Derek somehow
manages to end up near civilization, a very familiar patch of greenery behind
Stilinksi’s house.
Though he is in his wolf form Derek is still in control and still has his
common sense, so he knows that if he is near Stiles’ place he is too close to
any stray innocents. He’s just about to turn back and circle the woods around
his house a few times and perhaps do some work to the house. As he turns his
head to leave, his highly sensitive ears facing Stiles’ house, he hears it
clearly then: Derek.
His name whispered in a breathy moan of pleasure, barely tumbling past
trembling lips.
For a second Derek imagines that he imagined it. But then he hears it again,
this time more urgent: Derek please! Suddenly something feral and hungry
explodes inside of him, his desire returning tenfold. Without having thought
about it Derek was racing from the edge of the woods, scaling up Stiles’ window
and slipping through undetected. He moves into the shadows of the room and lets
the moonlight continue to stream unfiltered in a slice of light across from the
window to the door.
The sight he sees stuns him straight out of his transformation.
Stiles is on his bed with the covers thrown carelessly off to the side putting
him on full display. His eyes are closed but his legs are open, bending at the
knees so his feet are flat on the bed. Stiles groans, one hand wrapped around
his throbbing cock and the other hand curled save for his index and middle
fingers which continuously disappear between Stiles’ beautiful pale buttocks.
With his feet placed firmly on the bed, he pushes up his hips and his fingers
go deeper. He moans in pleasure and Derek has to use all of his self control to
stay
For the third time, Derek’s name leaves Stiles’ lip in a breathy moan and Derek
can’t just stand there anymore, he has to caress, lick and bite all of the skin
that, in another context, could be considered being offered.
His eyes bleed to red again and he’s achingly hard. He wants to be inside. As
soon as he comes back to himself, he takes a deep breath through his nose and
is nearly suffocated with the overwhelming smell of pure Stiles.
Derek clenches his fist—claws into his palms until the skin gives and blood
wells at his fingertips. A growl rumbles in his chest and if that doesn’t catch
Stiles’ attention, when Derek speaks, voice strained and full of aching desire
and want, it certainly does. “Stiles,” Derek chokes out. It could be a plea, it
could be a warning, and not even Derek is sure.
Stiles finally realizes he’s not alone, having been so occupied in his, what
sounded to be, a very intense masturbation experience that he wasn’t aware he
was being watched. When he realizes just who is watching him, his voice goes so
high he doesn’t make a sound.
For a while the both of them are stuck. Derek’s body hidden in the shadows,
claws clenched into fists, and bright red eyes literally glowing from the
shadows. Stiles, however, seems to be slower than usually as he still hasn’t
covered up. When he sees bright red eyes trailing over his body, something
clicks and he grabs for the covers and effectively shows Derek his ass when he
sprawls over the side of the bed to grab the covers. Eventually, though, he is
half decent.
Anger, confusion, embarrassment and arousal pitches Stiles’ voice to a weird
level, gives it a distinct tone as he hisses, “Derek, what the hell are you
doing here?”
The alpha finally steps out of the shadows, his features mostly human except
for his claws and his bright, supernaturally luminescent red irises. Instead of
answering the question, Derek stops beside the bed, his eyes raking Stiles’
naked chest. “I heard you.”
Stiles swallows, his blood boiling for a different reason all together—well not
entirely, he’s actually still pretty hard. “W-what do you mean?” he stutters,
feeling vulnerable under the questing gaze.
“You called my name,” Derek clarifies. His voice is dazed, his eyelids heavy
with lust. When his tongue darts out to wet his bottom lip, he gladly notes
that Stiles tracks the movement.
“No I didn’t,” Stiles denies instantly. His eyes dart upwards, meeting Derek’s
eyes and then trailing lower. He swallows and Derek hears it loud and clear.
“Yes you did.” Derek notice Stiles’ eyes linger on his chest and torso. In one
quick sweep, his shirt is off and tossed across the room.
Stiles eyes widen and he can’t believe Derek just did what he did. His eyes
track the movement of the shirt to its decent and then his eyes rest on Derek’s
chest once more, this time without any obstructions in the way. “No I didn’t,”
Stiles insists but he lacks conviction, his voice is dazed.
Derek doesn’t bother debating it anymore as he can clearly see, and smell, that
Stiles wants him. He heard it, too. “You can touch me, Stiles. I won’t bite, I
promise.” And though he’s sincere, he can’t resist smiling so that Stiles can
see his elongated canines.
Stiles heart leaps into his throat. Fear? Excitement? Too many emotions are
rushing through his blood at the moment but the most dominant one is his own
aching desire. Entranced, Stiles sits up, his eyes darting back to Derek’s for
confirmation that this is actually happening.
When Derek sees that Stiles obviously needs more encouraging, Derek leans
forward, sitting down on the bed when Stiles scoots over to make room for him.
The alpha raises his right hand, supported on the bed with his left, and lets
his fingers trail from Stiles’ collar bone and down his arm.
Still tense and captivated, Stiles relaxes when Derek touches him. Feeling
bold, Stiles reaches out and runs his fingers over Derek’s stomach and he feels
abdominal muscles made out of stone. And he wants them pressed against his own
naked, heated flesh.
At Stiles’ touch, Derek growls from deep within his chest. “I’m going to kiss
you now,” Derek warns. He has to, because he doesn’t believe he’d be able to
stop himself anyways, he has to taste Stiles.
“Okay,” Stiles breaths, licking his lips out of nervousness and because they
were slightly chapped.
Derek leans in, puckering his lips and closing his eyes. He uses the hand not
supporting his weight to cup Stiles’ cheek and guide him into the kiss without
their noses bumping.
The kiss is soft and chaste and perfect. When Derek pulls back and licks his
lips, he can faintly taste Stiles and hunger crests and he dives back in, more
instant. Licking at Stiles’ lips allows him access to Stiles’ warm, wet mouth
to which Derek uses his tongue to explore. Thoroughly.
This new kiss, more heated and hungry goes on and on. Somehow Derek’s pants end
up on the floor and he’s slotted perfectly between Stiles’ open legs, rutting
against Stiles’ hip with shallow thrusts without breaking the kiss.
The friction feels so good but when Derek’s cock snakes out from his boxer
shorts and he rubs his pre-cum –slicked cock against Stiles’, their rhythm
falters and they grind their hips harder together causing Stiles to cry out.
It’s instantly quieted by Derek’s lips.
When Derek is close—and he knows Stiles is if his erratic thrusts are any
indication--, he pulls away from the kiss, leans his weight onto his knees and
still Stiles’ hips with his hands. It’s a gentle pressure.
“Why’d you stop?” Stiles whines, his chest heaving and his hands fisted in his
sheets.
“I want to fuck you,” Derek tells him whilst looking him straight in the eyes,
brown to green. “Can I fuck you, Stiles?”
Stiles’ eyes widen and his breath speeds up and he hurriedly grips the base of
his cock in a grip way too tight to be comfortable; a makeshift cock ring.
“Fuck,” Stiles breathes in relief. “You almost made me come and you didn’t even
touch my cock, yes you can fuck me.”
Derek’s boxers are around his thighs and his above average, thick, cut cock
slips between Stiles’ ass cheeks, catching slightly on his entrance causing
them both to groan. Derek continues for a few more moments, adjusting to the
feel of Stiles’ soft, warm, slicked and yielding flesh. “Stiles?”
“Mmm?” Stiles is concentrating, trying really hard not to cum and embarrass
himself.
“I’m going to fuck you to the brink of insanity, until you just lay here, ass
bared as I take you again and again,” Derek tells him like it's a fact, as if
he’s talking about the weather. 'Oh hey, Stils. Blue skies, slightly cloudly
and oh yeah, I'm gonna fuck you.'
And that does it, Stiles comes with a shout of Derek’s name on his lips.
Several thick, white, hot jets of cum pain Stiles’ chest and Derek inhales the
scent, licks the taste of nothing but pure Stiles. His eyes bleed red and he
lets out hungry rumble resembling that of a growl.
“Are you ready?” Derek asks even though his voice is distorted with that of his
wolf, his features still normal. All but the eyes, that is.
“Fuck, Derek, yes, please!”
Derek presses in, the head of his cock popping in with a little bit of pressure
and a little more lubrication, courtesy of Stiles. He slides in all the way
until he bottoms out without stopping. Stiles cries out and it’s like music to
Derek’s ears. He slowly pulls out, pulling a needy whine from Stiles which
morphs into a groan when Derek snaps his hips forward.
Stiles lies there, cum on his chest and he just takes it until he comes again,
Derek finally following him over the edge the third time.
End Notes
     Leave them Kudos/Comments if you enjoyed! :D
Please drop_by_the_archive_and_comment to let the author know if you enjoyed
their work!