Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/1049336.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage, Rape/Non-Con
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Teen_Wolf_(TV)
  Relationship:
      Derek_Hale/Stiles_Stilinski, Stiles_Stilinski/Stuart_Stilinski, Peter
      Hale/Stiles_Stilinski
  Character:
      Derek_Hale, Stiles_Stilinski, Stuart_Stilinski, Peter_Hale
  Additional Tags:
      Dubious_Consent, Stilinski_Twins, Incest, Oral_Sex, Spanking, Chastity
      Device
  Series:
      Part 2 of Sex_is_Violent
  Stats:
      Published: 2013-11-18 Words: 6121
****** Pixelated Pornography ******
by GiggleSnortBangDead
Summary
     A little blurb told him Stiles had sent him a video. He didn’t want
     to open it. It was a bad idea. There was absolutely no way that the
     contents of this video could hold anything good.
     He pressed view anyway.
Notes
     This is the second part of a series. Maybe read the other part first.
See the end of the work for more notes
Derek drove back to his apartment immediately after whatever that was. His
throat had felt like it was closing up, his chest collapsing - as they should -
and he ran away regardless. He knew vaguely that it was weak and unheroic to
have left Stiles with those two. Stiles had been frightened and silenced and
Derek had been too stupid to do anything. Worried that he had harmed the boy,
he was deserting him so he could be hurt more, and he could barely even
consider any alternative course of action.
They were still in the house, and he speeding away in his car. He could have
easily turned around and gotten out and stormed in and pulled Stiles away. But,
instead, he sat, frozen in forward motion, in his stupid car, just trying to
breathe. It was almost as if he still thought he deserved to breathe.
Back at his apartment, after he had showered, he sat numb and still in his
kitchen, watching the clock, trying not to think. Five minutes, then ten, then
twenty passed. He finally took out his phone. Staring at it, he was consumed by
the need to hear that Stiles was okay, even though he knew with every ounce of
his being that the boy really wasn’t.
Calling was going to be useless anyway. Stu obviously had at least some control
over his brother’s phone. But, Derek realized he had to do something, and
called Stiles’s cell.
The phone rang twice and he was greeted by a lazy, smug, “Hey, Derek.” from a
voice that was all wrong and mocking and certainly not Stiles.
Derek hung up on Stuart before thinking it through. He almost threw the phone
at the wall as well, as if the device had been contaminated simply by carrying
Stu’s voice. Instead, he sat very quietly for another minute, staring at the
black screen.
He was about to put his phone away and sit silently in the dark, considering
what to do next, when a message notification and a little blurb told him Stiles
had sent him a video. He didn’t want to open it. It was a bad idea. There was
absolutely no way that the contents of this video could hold anything good.
He pressed view anyway.
It was a close up shot of Stiles’s face, and he was flushed and exhausted, his
eyes half-lidded and his mouth slack and wet. Someone, and the long, leanness
of the fingers indicated that someone was Stuart, was stroking their cock at
his face, their other hand tangled in his hair. Stiles’s eyes met the camera
and he weakly turned his face away in shame, but his brother’s hand held him
firmly set in place.
Stuart came, a string of ejaculate roping over the by’s cheek and the side of
his nose. Another string slashed across his red, swollen lips. Stu rubbed his
cock against his brother’s face, smearing the come, as Stiles turned his head a
little more and closed his eyes with nothing more than a look of resignation.
Derek did drop his phone as the video ended, his hands shaking too much to hold
it. Unfortunately, it only fell into his lap and did not break. He was out the
door in the next moment, keys snatched up from the table and shoes forgotten in
his room, and driving back to the Stilinski house in the early dusk.
===============================================================================
He parked in the same spot he’d had a brighter hour before and shut off the
engine, exhaling slowly. He gripped the wheel too tightly and glanced at the
house. Looking away, he banged his head against the rim. He couldn’t see them
or hear them or smell them anymore, but he could still feel them, and he didn’t
want to go back inside.
He quite suddenly felt stupid for coming back. He had no plan. He had been
driven only by the desire to make things right without the knowledge of how. He
only knew everything would be better if he could just get Stiles outside. From
there, he figured, he could take him somewhere safe. Everything would start to
be okay and Derek might not be the bad guy.
He got out of the car and walked up to the door. He raised a hand to the
doorknob, to break it open if he had to and just stopped. He just couldn’t get
his hand any closer. Physically, it was impossible, and he could recognize a
barrier when he felt one. Panic flared in his chest as he tried to force his
hand to the door handle.
He took a step back to breathe, slowly, calmly, composing his thoughts. He knew
Stu was thorough - to a paranoid, obsessive extent - but he checked all the
windows and the backdoor anyway, circling the house a few times.
Under Stiles's window, looking up, he tried to figured out what to do next when
his phone went off.
“What.” he barked.
“Hey, Derek,” Stuart hummed. “I didn’t think you’d be back so soon.”
“Why are the doors blocked?” Derek asked.
“I think you can guess.” Stu told him. “We need some alone time without an
stray dogs pawing for attention. Mountain ash keeps our friends in and our foes
out.” He paused, then added, chuckling, “Although, to be honest, I doubt our
friend needs much convincing to stay.”
“Peter.” Derek bit out, feeling even more nauseated.
“Yeah.” Stu sighed. “Guy knows how to party. He’ll probably have to stay the
night. It’s for the best anyway. It just means we can pick up right where we
left off after breakfast.”
Derek hung up on him, because he couldn’t listen to any more of it - he just
couldn’t. And, ten minutes later, when his phone beeped again while he was
driving, telling him he had a new video message, he just ignored it.
Or, he ignored it for fifteen more minutes until he was back in his apartment
and sitting in his kitchen. He placed the phone carefully on the tabletop so he
wouldn’t drop it this time and pressed view.
The footage was a little shaky, at an accidental Dutch angle, as if the person
filming was doing something else at the same time. But it was clear enough.
Derek just kind of wished it wasn’t.
Stiles, lips swollen, face pink, was groaning as his brother sucked him off. He
didn’t look hurt or scared or resigned. One of his hands was petting through
his brother’s hair, his mouth open, allowing for a flash of teeth and tongue.
Head falling to the side, he looked up and eyed the camera, and, suddenly, he
didn’t look so content anymore.
He blanched and squirmed, as if preparing to get up and stop the video from
being taken. Stu’s hand came to his hips to keep him down and he hummed a noise
of warning. Stiles, desperate, cried out and wiggled under him weakly and, eyes
still locked on the camera, said a soft little stop.
Stuart didn’t but the video did, and it left Derek cold and guilty and alone
again.
===============================================================================
His phone rang and he jerked awake. His laptop was open, blacked out, and he
was surrounded by several, thick, useless texts. The night before had been
spent trying to find a way for wolves to move mountain ash as sleep had eluded
him - but this wasn’t his strong suit. Stiles was good at research. Derek
needed Stiles to tell him where to go.
His phone was ringing and his neck was sore. Caller ID said it was the
Stilinski home phone, and he doubted it was anyone he wanted to talk to, and he
didn’t want to answer.
He groaned, running a hand over his face, and took the call. “What do you
want?”
“I-” the voice hesitated. “Derek, it’s Stiles.”
“Stiles,” he choked, his spine going rigid. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” he aid, quickly. “Look, can you come over?”
“Are,” Derek paused and swallowed once to keep his voice from getting too
thick. “Are they going to be there?”
“No.” Stiles said.
“Are they there now?”
Stiles said nothing.
“Are you okay?” Derek asked again.
“You already said that.” the boy huffed. “Just come over. I have to - to talk
to you.”
And, just like that, Derek felt his heart freeze and he thought he might be
sick. Talking, when said like that, didn’t really sound like talking at all.
“Stiles, what are they making you do?”
“Please,” Stiles tried again, avoiding the question. “Please, just come here.”
“Okay, okay,” and Derek stood, starting to look for his shoes and keys. “I’ll
be there soon.”
But, in the car ride over, his phone beeped again, signaling a new message from
Stiles. He pulled over, thinking it was just a text, but nearly stopped
breathing when he saw it was another video. Running a hand over his face, he
killed the ignition and played the video.
It was the night before, Derek could tell. He was already a violent pink, from
his ass down to his thighs, so it must have been going on for a while, as
another slap sounded in the faraway room and Stiles cried out.
“I’m sorry.” Stiles told them, his voice muffled by his folded arms, which he
had buried his face in. He was turned away, bent over Peter’s lap, one of the
man’s hand on his upper back, keeping him steady as the boy jerked and shook.
The other hand was raised to spank down again. It did, hard, and Stiles keened
once more. Peter rubbed the hand along his turning red backside, before
starting up again.
Stuart, behind the camera, asked. “Sorry?” his voice mocking and light and
feigning ignorance. Peter paused for a moment. “Sorry for what?”
“For Derek.” Stiles sobbed and Peter swatted at him once more, with a little
less force.
“You’ll need to be more specific.” Stu said. “I don’t think I know what exactly
you’re talking about.”
Stiles started to cry as Peter smacked down again.
“I should have asked first.” Stiles babbled him through tears. “I’m sorry, Stu.
I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
“It’ll be okay.” Stuart said, taking a few steps forward for a better view as
Peter ran his hands down the back of the boy’s thighs and cooed at him to hold
himself open. Stiles shook his head weakly into his folded arms and Peter
slapped across his right cheek, hard.
“You’re only going to make things worse for yourself.” Peter said, in very
reasonable tones. So, sobbing, Stiles reached behind to hold himself open. His
cheek was smooshed up against the bedspread and he made a quiet, muffled sound
as Peter flicked his forefinger over the exposed hole.
“Wow, would you look at that?” Stu said, almost reverently.
Peter hummed in agreement before smacking down between the boy’s cheeks, over
his hole. Stiles wailed.
The video cut off. Derek wasn’t watching anymore anyway. Instead, he was out of
the car, retching acid onto asphalt.
===============================================================================
The house was quiet; no cars in the driveway and the door was unlocked. Derek
tried the handle, finding no barrier, but thought better of it. He knocked.
There was some soft padding inside and then Stiles opened the door. He didn’t
smile, just looked at him with a controlled face, gauging Derek’s own reaction.
When Derek didn’t say or do anything, he bit his lip and lowered his gaze,
stepping aside for Derek to come in. He shut the door behind them.
“Are you okay?” Derek started with - and he knew the boy wasn’t, he had the
evidence on his phone, but he asked anyway.
Stiles just rolled his eyes. “Hi, Derek. Nice to see you too. I’m doing great.
How are you?”
Derek didn’t respond, a little too thrown by the boy’s levity. There was a
brief silence.
“Where’s your dad?” Derek asked.
“Dad worked late last night.” Stiles told him, leading the man upstairs.
“Sometimes, when he’s got a lot going on, he just sleeps at work.” He paused at
the head of the stairs, his eyes darting back to Derek, and he admitted,
“Actually, I think he’s gotten a motel room that’s closer.”
Derek came to stand a few paces away from him, keeping an awkward distance
between them. Stiles took a step forward and gave him a secretive smile. In a
lowered tone, he allowed, “Stuart says he must have found some girl over there
whose been keeping him busy.”
“But that’s not true.” Derek said.
Stiles’s smile faltered and then failed altogether. “No.” he said, looking down
and taking the distance between them back. “No, that’s not true.”
“Your dad knows?”
Stiles glanced at the door to his bedroom. “I didn’t think he’d take it as
badly as he did. I mean, it makes sense - Stu didn’t want Dad to see because
he’s Dad, you know? But, he walked in and-” Stiles cut himself off. He peeked
up at Derek. “Come on. Let’s go to my room.” He reached out to take Derek’s
hand. Without thinking, the man snatched his hand back, as if the brush of
fingers had burned.
“Oh.” Stiles said, his arm falling to his side. He shook his head at himself a
little. “Of course.”
“No, Stiles,” Derek said, and his own fingers came forward to lightly press at
Stiles’s hand. The boy allowed himself to be pulled, but Derek didn’t touch him
anywhere else. He tried to think of what to say and ended up with only, “When
did your dad find out?”
Stiles eyes flashed up to his, his mouth open and his grip tightening on his
hand. “About an hour before you did.” He turned and started to tug the man
behind him to the bedroom. “Dad and Stu had a fight and Dad stormed out, so Stu
called Peter.”
He opened the door, and the smell wasn’t as offensive as Derek had thought it
might be. Stiles had changed his sheets and the window as open to air out the
room. “Peter and I,” the boy continued, “We were - uhm - busy and I guess
that’s when Stu got my phone to text you. Tell you the truth,” he laughed
weakly, “I haven’t seen my phone since then. Shut the door.”
“How long have you two been,” and he nearly gagged on the words, glad his face
was turned away from the boy as he shut them in, “With Peter?”
“Peter and I have been you know for a couple of months. Stu lets Peter, but
they don’t - They’re not compatible. Got that whole alpha-top-dominant thing
going.” He smiled again, a little weakly, and shrugged. “I guess I’ve got a
type.”
Derek flared. “I’m not - I’m not like them.”
Stiles huffed, more in fond amusement than anything else. “No, you’re not. They
would have tried to touch me by now.”
“Stiles, we need to go.” Derek said, being reminded of his purpose and taking a
step even closer. “I can get you out of here.”
The boy’s eyes widened. “Why?” And, he must have thought it was funny to
pretend to be confused, but it just made Derek frustrated. He had to clench his
fist to keep from yelling.
“Why?” Derek repeated. “Why? You - I’m not an idiot. I can see what they’re
doing to you. I want to help you.”
“Oh, so what?” Stiles verbally waved him off, closing n on him, his hands
coming up to Derek’s belt to start fumbling with it. “They get a little rough
sometimes. I like it. I always come, in the end.”
“That’s not-” Derek started, catching and holding the boy’s hands. He tried to
calm down, exhaling shakily.
“You really don’t want me.” Stiles sighed, pulling back. He looked away from
him again, his shoulders slumping and his arms crossing over his chest. “Stu
said you wouldn’t after that. He said he was the only one who could even really
forgive me for being a cheating - And I just wanted -
“He was the one who told me to call you, you know.” His eyes darted up in a
unsure glance at Derek’s face. “He told me you wouldn’t like me after you knew,
but I should call. I’m so sorry, Derek. I didn’t want to lie to you but I
really like you and you were always so good to me and you never asked - so I
thought it might be okay to have both of you.”
“Stiles, I don’t - I still want you.” Derek told him, and the boy didn’t look
relieved. Instead, he just sent him a mad, disbelieving look. He brought his
hands back to Derek’s belt, more aggressive this time.
“You’re not acting like it.”
Derek tried to push him away without hurting him and, once he got Stiles’s
hands off, he flipped them around and forcibly sat the boy onto the bed. Stiles
groaned on impact, and then looked up at Derek, as if hoping he hadn’t noticed.
As it was, the man looked upset and apologetic as he let him go and took a step
back. He tried not to remember the keening wail he’d head from the boy just a
few minutes before.
Stiles rearranged his limbs so he was leaning more on his side. “Did Stu send
you those videos?” he said, sounding conversational, but strained. Derek nodded
and Stiles scrubbed a hand through his hair. “I’m so embarrassed. You... You
shouldn’t have seen those.”
“Did someone,” Derek started, softly. He cleared his throat and asked, “Did
someone take care of you?”
“Peter and Stu have been taking care of me for a while.” Stiles said, his
eyebrows knitting in confusion.
“I mean, after Peter,” Derek swallowed, fighting nausea, “After he hurt you.
Last night.”
Stile eyes widened and he wet his lips. “I-” and then he shook his head. “No.
No, I... I didn’t know you saw that. I didn’t know Stu was filming when - What
did you see, exactly?” Stiles pushed himself up a little more. Derek shifted
uncomfortably as the boy kept him under a very intense gaze.
“You should come with me.” he said instead of answering. “I can get you help.”
“What are you even talking about?”
And Stiles became something much more smooth and easy then the nervous figure
he had been a moment ago. The way he slid off the bed and sank to his knees
before him was sensual and graceful and seemed too practiced. Derek was only a
few feet away, and he wanted to take another step back, but Stiles was in front
of him like that, taking up the distance between them, and he was stuck.
“If you really want to help me,” Stiles said, looking up at the man through his
lashes. His gaze darted back down to the crotch of Derek’s pants as he wet his
lips again. “You’ll let me blow you.”
Derek reached down to bring Stiles to his feet. “No.” he growled.
“Please,” Stiles begged, weakly pulling at his hold, “Please, Derek. Let me do
this for you.” He got away, his fingers curling around the backs of Derek’s
thighs as he thudded to his knees again.
“Please, Derek,” he said, his cheek pressing against the denim over Derek’s
cock. “I’ll make it so good for you. You always liked it before. You said I was
a natural at it.” He pulled back, looking up at him again, and brought his hand
over to stat rubbing at his trapped dick.
And Derek groaned, feeling sick to be reminded that such a thing had left his
mouth after the first time the boy had brought his lips to the man’s cock. He
had just been shocked by how easily Stiles had taken it in. It hadn’t even
occurred to him that it wasn’t his first time. He had just been so sure. “I
didn’t mean it like-”
“Derek,” Stiles pleaded. “Just do me this favor.”
“Did they - Are they making you do this?” Stiles froze and Derek took a half-
step back to look at him. “Did they tell you to do this? What’s going to happen
if you don’t?”
Stiles almost sat back on his heels and thought better of it. “I don’t know.”
he admitted. “Stu just - He said he thought it would be best, for both of us,
me and you - if I offered. He said he wouldn’t mind. And - after everything - I
feel like - if he’s okay with it... And I don’t want to make him mad.”
“Stiles, you’re scared-” Derek tried to say.
“I’m not scared,” he hissed back. “He’s my brother. I just don’t want him upset
with me.”
“That’s right. He’s your brother. Brothers don’t do this.”
“Well, we do.” Stiles said. “You wouldn’t understand. Twins are different.” he
tried to explain. “Closer.”
“Look, just stand up.’ Derek said, reaching down again. Stiles yanked his arm
away. “I’ll find something to help with the bruising and we can go-”
“No.” Stiles bit out. “N-O. How are you not getting this? Jesus. It is not that
difficult. I can’t leave. I can blow you. I want to blow you. What is so
fucking hard? Because, it’s obviously not you or I wouldn’t be able to have
this conversation right now.”
“How can - How can you talk like that?” Derek rasped out.
“Easy.” Stiles snapped, smiling with no warmth. “My mouth is empty. Haven’t you
noticed?”
Derek was silent, and then asked, “If I let you... If we do this, will you
leave with me?”
“No.” he refused immediately, starting to tug at Derek’s belt again.
“Please, Stiles.” Derek said, quietly. “Stop.” and the boy’s hand stilled.
Derek reached down to cup his cheek. “You’re hurt. Can I just take care of
you?”
Stiles slapped the hand away. “No. I don’t need you to “take care” of me like
that. Things got out of hand. I got out of hand, with you. Before. All of that
was my fault, and I hurt you and Stuart.”
“So-” Derek balked. “So you deserved this?”
“I don’t know what to give you.” Stiles deflected. “You say you want me but
you’re not acting like it. I’m being honest with you. I apologized. I’m trying
to make things better.”
“Please just leave with me. I don’t want to force you.” Derek told him.
That brought Stiles to a complete halt. He seemed to lose his breathe for a
moment, blinking in shock. When he spoke again, his voice was very small. “You
would force me?”
Derek looked down and him and couldn’t say anything. Stiles was still staring
up at him, holding him in a honeyed gaze. Finally, he shook his head.
“No,” he said. “I wouldn’t force you. I - I can’t do that to you.” and he took
a side-step away to the door. “I’m going.”
Stiles clamored to his feet. “You’re just gonna leave me?”
“I’m going to get you help. You won’t come with me, so I need to-” He stopped
at the door and turned to the boy. He promised, “I’m going to get you out of
here. Everything’s going to be okay.”
“Please don’t tell anyone.” Stiles started to beg. “Please. No one else can
know. They won’t understand.”
“Because it’s wrong.” Derek stressed. “I think you know it’s wrong.”
Stiles, shaking his head fervently, corrected: “Because love means something
different to everyone.”
Derek blinked, not knowing how to respond. He just turned back to he door and
twisted the handle. He was about to walk out, but Stiles placed on hand lightly
on his arm to stop him.
“Would you at least kiss me?” he asked, softly. Derek faced him and the boy was
flushed slightly, his lips still wet and parted.
He knew he should have said no. Stiles was unstable, to say the least. What he
thought was normal romantic - or even just sexual - behavior was becoming more
and more apparently skewed. His ability to make this sort of decision for
himself was questionable. Derek knew that leaving was the only way to not take
advantage of the boy.
But he looked so sad, so soft. And the longer Derek stood there, just staring,
the closer Stiles shifted until he was just a hair’s breadth away. One of his
hands was on Derek’s hip and the other came to rest on the man’s jaw, his
fingers brushing against his stubble.
So, Derek kissed the boy and shouldn’t have. It wasn’t light or even
superficial. The moment Stiles’s mouth was on his, he wasn’t just trying to
comfort the boy. He was trying to make him forget - make them both forget.
Licking into the boy’s hot, slack mouth, twisting his body closer, he closed
his eyes very tightly and tried not to think about all the other things that
might have been in Stiles’s mouth in the last twenty-four hours.
All the could think about was marking his territory, as Stiles moaned into his
mouth and pressed in a little tighter. Derek wanted to suck and bite at the boy
until he bruised. He wanted to kiss him so well, so thoroughly, that he would
take enough of Stiles out of the house for him to be safe.
Stiles’s hand started to creep under his shirt. “Stuart’s going to be gone for
hours. He and Peter are getting coffee or shopping or plotting or something. We
have lots of time, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
There was a brush between their bodies, Stiles’s crotch pressing for a moment
against Derek’s thigh, and something was wrong. Quicker than either of them
could comprehend, Derek pulled himself away, a deep, heavy nausea settling back
in his stomach.
Confusion fell to embarrassment the longer Stiles stood there, panting and
flushed.
“What-” Derek’s voice was much quieter than his pounding heart, so he doubted
it could be heard. He raised his voice. “What is that?”
“I think you should go.” Stiles said.
“Stiles, what is that?"
“You said you wanted to leave.” Stiles reminded him. He bridged the gap between
them and started to push Derek out of his room. “Just go. I thought you wanted
to go.”
Derek, unmoving, stared at him dumbly. He could have easily held Stiles against
the wall and felt the awkward, foreign bulge in his jeans again. He could have
even forced the boy’s pants down to look. Stiles couldn’t have - wouldn’t have
- stopped him. Stiles might have given off waves of fear, he might have
struggled weakly at the invasion, but Derek, ultimately, would be forgiven. It
would have maybe even been seen as the devotion Derek was so desperately trying
to convey.
“Stiles, please,” he said softly, instead. His hands found and covered the
boy’s, just holding him. “I need you to tell me. You can be honest with me. I
promise - I’m going to try to understand whatever you say.”
Stiles pursed his lips for a minute and looked down at his feet. “Stu said,” he
started, and then shook his head. “He’s put me in,” But, that wasn’t right
either - worse, even, if the mortified look and sense of utter humiliation the
boy was giving off was anything to go by. “I didn’t want you to find out.
That’s why I offered to blow you. Stu said he doesn’t care who uses either of
my - He doesn’t care who I’m with. But, I’m only allowed to - I can only - with
him. He’s the only one allowed to make me.”
Derek felt muddled and over-hot, and he was shaking. “And that,” he clarified.
“You don’t think there’s anything wrong with that?”
“I thought you said you’d try to understand.”
“I am, but-” Derek shook his head. “You’re right. I should go.”
“Where?” Stiles asked, skeptically.
“I’m going to find your dad.”
“Good luck.” Stiles scoffed, trying to sound more confident than he did. “It’s
his day off and there’s way too many motels nearby. Me and Stu are probably the
only two people who can find him.”
Derek leveled a look at him and the boy, catching it, shook his head. “Nope.
Not telling you. I told you - there’s nothing wrong, but people aren’t going to
understand. And Dad’s still mad at Stu, so-” He paused, cutting himself off,
and his expression changing as he looked back at Derek. “Tell you what.” he
murmured, “I’ll trade you.”
Derek stared at him. “You,” he started, trying to comprehend what was
happening. The hooded way the boy took him in and the coy little flick of
tongue over his lips implied that his thoughts had already turned again.
“You’ll trade me?”
Stiles nodded and said, slowly, like Derek was stupid, “Yes. You fuck my face
and I’ll tell you where my dad is staying.”
“Stiles, I don’t want to do that to you.”
“I don’t want to tell you where my dad is, but-”
“Stiles, please.” Derek begged.
“You could just fuck me instead. Is that it? Do you not like my mouth?” Stiles
didn’t sound like he believed that. It was like he was flirting, fishing for
praise. He, one last time, stepped into the man’s space and placed his long,
now-steady fingers on Derek’s belt. Finally, as Derek made no move to stop him,
he unbuckled it. “That’s a good boy.”
Derek eye’s closed and he tried not to focus on Stiles’s hands, one pulling his
belt out of the loops slowly, the other snaking around, groping Derek’s ass.
“Okay.” Derek grumbled.
“What was that?” Stiles asked, dropping the belt to the side.
“Okay.” Derek grit out. “Fine. I’ll trade you.”
Stiles smiled at him genuinely. His body rubbing and pressing against Derek’s,
he slid his other hand around to meet it’s match, kneading into the man’s ass.
“Thanks,” he hummed, brushing a light kiss on Derek’s lips. Derek would have
kissed him back under any other circumstance, he wanted to kiss Stiles at
almost all times, but he could feel that awkward wrong bulge in the boy’s
pants, firm against him, and everything felt so sick. All he could do was
stand, still and quiet.
Pulling back, Stiles sighed at Derek’s lack of enthusiasm. “Guess we gotta fix
that.” He shimmied Derek’s jeans down a little and started to feel him through
his briefs. Momentarily, he looked a little discouraged. “Do you want to see my
cage? Stu said you might like-”
“Don’t talk about him.” Derek growled. “And no.”
Stiles huffed. “Derek.”
“I’m trying.”
Stiles sank to the ground and stripped his briefs down to where his jeans were
pooled at the man’s knees, then pulled them down to his ankles. Without looking
up, Stiles leaned forward to mouth Derek’s mostly soft cock.
Derek did groan, but the noise was sad, lost, pulled from his mouth without his
consent. His hands curled into fists at his sides as a wet warmth surrounded
his dick. Looking down, Stiles’s eyes had slid shut, eyelashes resting on his
cheeks as he tried to work the man hard. Derek closed his own eyes and tried to
think about something better.
He couldn’t, though, and the only thing he could remember was how Stiles had
cried afterwards so many times when they were alone. And how each time he had
been certain he had hurt the boy and each time Stiles would tell him that he
was fine, that he was so gentle, like it was the worst and best thing, and bury
his face deeper into Derek’s chest. He had thought it was odd but sweet, just a
quirk, because, being a supposed virgin before Derek, Stiles had been
overwhelmed by the sensation, and now Derek knew better and the realization of
it was hot and heavy in his stomach.
Even more vividly, his mind caught on how aroused the boy would smell when
giving head before, and that he didn’t smell anything like that now.
Derek opened his eyes to meet the boy’s gaze. Stiles was using his hand now,
looking up at him thoughtfully. “Do you want to sit down? Get more
comfortable?”
“I’m fine.” he bit out.
“It’s never been so hard to, uh, get you hard.” Stiles told him. “It’s okay,”
he added with a wink. “We’re getting there.” He brought his tongue to the head
of the man’s half-hard cock before taking it in between his lips.
He started the hum, the low vibration making Derek moan, and Stiles peeked up
at his face, a pleased uptone synching in. He moved his fingers from their hold
on Derek’s naked thigh and found Derek’s own hand, balled at the man’s side. He
guided that hand to his hair, placing it there for him to comb through or tug
as he chose, returning his fingers back to their previous place.
Derek, now hard and gripping lightly at the boy’s graciously offered hair,
stayed quiet and motionless as Stiles bobbed and sucked diligently. Finally he
pulled off, looking frustrated.
“I said fuck my face.” Stiles reminded him, pumping him instead.
“What.” Derek said, more shocked than anything else.
“Fuck my face.” Stiles ordered. “Come on, I can take it.”
“I - I don’t want to do that.”
“Of course you do.” Stiles snapped back, still working him with a firm grip.
“No, I don’t.” and he hissed as Stiles twisted his grip.
“Yes, you do. You want to own me, don’t you?”
“No, that’s not-“ Stiles just sighed and sent him one last, mad look before
bowing his head again, sucking harder. His fingers on Derek’s thigh dug in
tighter as he pulled back to kiss the tip, dirty and open mouthed, making eye
contact with the man agin. The look was slutty, smug, tongue out to lap at the
wet head, and hand still holding and stroking the base of his cock.
“Come on,” Stiles tried again. “Show me how hard you can give it.”
“Stiles, I’m not them.” Derek said, without thinking. “That’s not how I want
you.”
Stiles lost his flirty look, his mouth falling shut for a moment. Still jacking
Derek off towards his face, he said, “My dad’s staying at the Motel 6. He’s in
room 218,” and he opened his mouth to take him into his heat again.
Derek had to groan, unable to respond in any other way, as he clutched Stiles’s
hair, feeling his own release coming. He moaned out his name in warning, and
Stiles pulled back, fisting his dick as he came hot across the boy’s face.
All Derek could think was how easy it would be to smear that white across the
boy’s cheek with his softening dick. Stiles wouldn’t have even tried to stop
him.
They remained silent, still touching, panting, for a moment. Stiles moved to
clean Derek’s cock with his mouth, but Derek pushed him gently back. Stiles
stared up at him.
“I guess you should go.” Stiles said, not even sounding angry anymore.
Derek pulled back and shuffled his pants and underwear up. “Stay here.” He left
the boy on his knees in his bedroom.
When he came back, he had a wad of wet toilet paper. He hesitated at the door,
seeing the boy waiting obediently where he left him. He crossed and helped him
to his feet. He thought about setting him on the bed and felt his jaw tighten
as he reminded himself why he couldn’t.
“I, uhm,” he started, awkwardly, showing him the toilet paper, seeing if the
boy would take it, ‘I don’t know where you keep your wash-cloths.” Stiles
didn’t take it, so Derek slowly brought it to his cheek, the corner of his
mouth, starting to clean him off.
“Bottom cupboard.” Stiles told him very quietly, his voice swallowed up,
looking at him with something that almost seemed like awe.
“Oh,” Derek said, his hand gently cupping the boy’s chin, turning his face a
little to clean up the ejaculate on his jaw.
“Stop.” Stiles breathed.
Derek’s hands stilled. “What’s wrong?”
“Stop being so nice to me.” Stiles begged. “Please. I can’t take it.” His eyes
fell closed on gathering moisture.
“This is what people who care about each other do.” Derek said, finishing and
pulling the soiled material away.
“No.” Stiles said, looking at him evenly. “This is what you do. I hate it. I
want you to stop.”
Derek stepped away, feeling ragged and wrecked. “Why do you hate it?”
Stiles didn’t say anything. He wiped furiously at his cheek as something
escaped his eye. Finally, voice thick, he said, “I want you to go now.”
Derek nodded and turned without touching him again or saying anything else and
left to go find the Sheriff.
===============================================================================
End Notes
     Jeez-o-weez, this took forever to write. I hope it turned out okay.
     Shameless tumblr plug: My_Blog
Please drop_by_the_archive_and_comment to let the author know if you enjoyed
their work!