Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/808238.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Choose_Not_To_Use_Archive_Warnings, Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Teen_Wolf_(TV)
  Relationship:
      Derek_Hale/Stiles_Stilinski
  Character:
      Derek_Hale, Stiles_Stilinski, Sheriff_Stilinski
  Additional Tags:
      Established_Relationship, Future_Fic, Oral_Sex, Rimming, First_Times,
      Fluff, lovewolf
  Series:
      Part 21 of Right_Where_I_Belong
  Stats:
      Published: 2013-05-18 Words: 3211
****** "Porn Things" ******
by the_misfortune_teller
Summary
     Follow on fic from I'll_Be_With_You_Through_The_Dark.
     Stop looking panic stricken, Derek. You'll probably enjoy it.
Notes
     Prompt: (+4 months) Derek demands to know what the “porn things” are
     that he wants to try; a few videos on RedTube and a rather
     embarrassing conversation later, he gets to try them. Derek certainly
     doesn’t complain.
      
     Tagging this as underage, because I guess Stiles is in his own
     country!
See the end of the work for more notes
Stiles yawns as he peers at his phone; it’s 3am on a Wednesday morning and his
text message tone is obnoxiously loud. Who the hell is texting him at 3am on a
Wednesday morning? Opening his inbox, he finds out that it’s Derek who thinks
it’s appropriate to text at 3am on a Wednesday morning.
“Need to ask you something,” the text message reads. Stiles groans loudly,
figuring it’ll be easier to just call Derek back instead of trying to text in
his sleep addled state.
“What’s so important that you had to text me at 3am?” He demands when Derek
picks up, feeling too tired to bother with common courtesies like hello.
“That jar you gave me for Christmas,” Derek starts, sounding as though he’s
wide awake. As though it’s not 3am on a Wednesday morning.
“You texted me to talk about your Christmas present?” Stiles huffs. “Really?
Doesn’t that seem like a conversation we could have when I’m, you know, awake?”
“What porn things?”
“What?”
“One of the notes,” Derek clarifies. “You wrote that you want to, direct quote,
do porn things to me. What porn things.”
“I’m hanging up on you now. Some of us have to go to school tomorrow.” He ends
the call and throws his phone onto his bedside table before dragging one of his
spare pillows over his head and falling into a deep sleep.
::
Derek’s waiting for him in his room when he gets home from school that
afternoon; given that his dad hasn’t told him that Derek’s in the house, he can
only assume that Derek has resumed his old habit of sneaking in through his
bedroom window.
“Are you going to tell me now?”
“Tell you what?” Stiles yawns, clambering over Derek so he can flop face down
on the bed. “You’re being really weird you know.”
Derek huffs and drops a piece of paper beside his head, as though that explains
everything. Groaning loudly and spectacularly, Stiles forces himself up into a
seated position and picks up the piece of paper, recognising it immediately as
one of the notes from Derek’s jar.
“You’re still going on about this, huh?” He asks as he smoothes the paper out
on his knee and reads his, in his own handwriting, about how he wants to ‘do
porn things’ to Derek.
“What things?” Derek demands again, wrapping one arm around Stiles’ shoulder
and pulling him close.
“Just porn things,” Stiles yawns as he curls into Derek’s side and trails his
fingers across his stomach. “Things that I am categorically not doing to you
while my dad is in the house.”
“So just tell me.”
“Later,” Stiles sighs as he wedges his fingers under the waistband of Derek’s
jeans and closes his eyes. “Right now I need to nap, on account of some stupid
creature of the night waking me up at 3am.”
“I am not a creature of the night,” Derek grumbles, pinching Stiles’ upper arm.
“When’s your dad’s next night shift?”
“Friday night, I think,” Stiles replies sleepily. “Why? Planning on breaking
all the rules and coming over?”
He feels Derek nod above him as he presses a kiss against his temple. He falls
asleep leaning against Derek, soothed by the sound of his breathing and the
feeling of his fingers dragging slowly through his hair.
::
Derek’s waiting for him again on Friday when he gets in from school; at least
this time he’s apparently had the decency to use the front door and is sitting
in the den watching a TiVoed baseball game with his dad.
“Since when do you two hang out?” Stiles grouses, dropping his backpack in the
door way and sitting down beside Derek.
“Since you were late home from school,” John replies. “What did you do to wind
up in detention this time?”
“It was Erica’s fault...” Stiles starts, frowning at Derek when he gives a
quiet snort of laughter.
“It’s always Erica’s fault,” Derek smirks as he begrudgingly lets Stiles lace
their fingers together.
“Hey, that’s not fair,” John retorts before Stiles can even open his mouth to
speak. Stiles smirks at Derek, pleased that his dad is defending him for once,
only to have the smile wiped off his face when his dad quickly continues with;
“Sometimes its Scott’s fault, or Isaac’s fault. I think it might have even been
Boyd’s fault once.”
“I hate both of you,” Stiles complains, pulling his hand away from Derek’s grip
so he can fold his arm across his chest.
::
“Come on then,” Derek murmurs between kisses sometime later. “What are the porn
things?”  He’s done his usual trick of leaving just before Stiles’ dad and then
jogging back over an hour or so later so he can spend the night. Stiles
occasionally feels guilty about sneaking Derek into the house, but then the
awesomeness of getting to fall asleep next to him quickly cancels out any
feelings of guilt.
“Are you ever going to stop talking about that?” Stiles laughs, flinching
slightly as Derek digs his fingers into his ribs, tickling him and calling him
a hypocrite. “Just things. That I saw in this porn video I watched. Why are you
so interested anyway?”
“Maybe I like when you do stuff to me,” Derek replies as he ducks his head
slightly. Even in the low light of his bedroom, Stiles can see that Derek’s
ears are reddening in embarrassment. As much as he like might to exaggerate,
within believable reason, to his friends about the amount of sex he and Derek
have, and how not at all vanilla the aforementioned sex is, they don’t have
nearly as much sex as Stiles would like and Derek still gets embarrassed from
time to time, particularly if Stiles demands to know what things he wants to
try in bed or tells him what he wants to do to him. He doesn’t press it too
much usually, as he’s all too aware of the reasons Derek is still occasionally
weird and uncomfortable about sex.
“You can’t ask me to tell you about porn stuff if you’re going to get
embarrassed talking about it!” Stiles crows as he reaches up to flick Derek’s
ear. “You’re fucking adorable, you know.”
“Shut up.”
“Make me!”
Derek narrows his eyes and does just that, roughly dragging Stiles down beside
him and kissing him hungrily, because nothing shuts him up quite like Derek’s
tongue in his mouth. Thirty minutes later, Derek is shoving his hand down the
front of Stiles boxers and curling his fingers loosely around his cock.
“Tell me,” he whispers, dragging his thumb across the head of Stiles’ cock.
“Please.”
“Tell you what?” Stiles moans, arching his hips up and off the bed as he seeks
more friction.
“What things?” Derek asks as he nips at Stiles’ bottom lip and presses his
elbow against Stiles’ hip to stop him from moving and thrusting up into his
fist. “Tell me and I’ll think about moving my hand.”
“You’re seriously cruel, you know that?” Stiles complains breathily. “Can’t I
just show you the video instead?”
“Fine.” Derek lets go of him, rolling gracefully off the bed and grabbing
Stiles’ laptop from the desk.
::
“I don’t like his tattoos,” Derek grumbles as he shifts uncomfortably besides
Stiles.
“We’re not watching it for his tattoos, loser. We’re watching it because you
can’t leave well enough alone and want to know what porn things! Anyway, he
kind of looks like you.”
“No.”
“Uh, yes,” Stiles bumps his shoulder against Derek’s and grins at him. “That’s
why I like it.”
“Why do you watch so much porn?” Derek complains, frowning at the laptop. “I
don’t.”
“You don’t watch any porn. Have you ever actually watched porn before? Is this
a first for you? Oh my god, am I helping you pop your porn cherry?” Stiles
teases gently, hooking his ankle over Derek’s leg. “Anyway, I don’t watch that
much anymore. Just sometimes, you know, when the mood strikes. You realise that
I wouldn’t have to watch porn if you’d let me film you...”
“No.”
“God, you’re no fun tonight,” Stiles laughs, turning his head to the side so he
can press a kiss against Derek’s shoulder. “This bit,” he adds, gesturing to
the screen. He can feel himself blushing but carries on regardless. “That’s
what I want to do to you.”
“Huh.”
“Can I?”
“Do I get to take a shower first?”
“Only if I get to join you,” Stiles tells him with a leer; Derek scowls back at
him and shrugs before sliding off the bed and heading for Stiles’ bathroom.
Stiles trails after him, hopping onto the few inches of counter space next to
the sink and watching Derek as he gets in the shower.
“You don’t have to; not if you don’t want to,” he calls, raising his voice
despite knowing that Derek can hear him perfectly well over the rushing water.
“I don’t want you to feel like you have to do something just ‘cause I want to
do it.”
“I know that,” Derek grumbles, sticking his head around the shower curtain and
glaring at Stiles. “I want to, OK? To try it. Why do you think I’m showering?”
“I was starting to think that maybe you were running away from my porn,” Stiles
replies, stretching out his leg so he can curl his toes into the shower curtain
and tug it aside. “On account of not liking the dude’s tattoos.” Derek scowls
at him and yanks the curtain shut again, rudely demanding that Stiles go back
to his room and wait for him there.
Stiles eyes the taps beside him, toying with the idea of turning on the hot one
to make the water run cold on Derek but reconsiders, figuring that pissing
Derek off won’t make him anymore willing to try something new.
::
“I’d say that was the longest shower humanly possible,” Stiles comments when
Derek finally reappears in his bedroom, “but I feel that’d be wasted on you, on
account of you not technically being human.”
“Shut up.”
Stiles just grins, lunging for Derek and trying to pull away the towel he’s got
wrapped around his waist. Derek evades him easily, moving behind Stiles so
quickly that he doesn’t have time to turn around before Derek is reaching
around and grabbing his wrists, holding them tightly and mouthing at the back
of his neck.
“If you’re not going to take off your shirt, you don’t get to pull my towel
off,” Derek murmurs, his lips close to Stiles’ ear.
“Can’t take it off while you’re doing this,” Stiles points out as he tries to
free his wrists from Derek’s grip. Derek laughs shortly and lets go of him,
moving away to sit on the edge of Stiles’ bed and watching eagerly as Stiles
yanks his t-shirt up and over his head, tossing it in the direction of his desk
chair; it’s promptly followed by Derek’s towel.
“You don’t think it’s kind of gross?” Derek asks as he lies back, pulling
Stiles down beside him.
“No, I think it’s fucking hot,” Stiles tells him. “That’s why I want to try it.
If I thought your ass was gross, I wouldn’t put my fingers or my dick up
there.”
“That’s different.”
“Not really,” Stiles replies, pushing at Derek to try and get him to roll over
onto his front. “It’s still just your ass and some part of my body in contact
with each other.”
Derek grumbles but rolls onto his front anyway, sliding his arms underneath
Stiles’ pillow and hiding his face. Stiles moves away to kneel between his
legs, taking a moment to lean forward and run his hands up Derek’s back, trying
to work some of the tension out of his muscles.
“You have to relax, Derek,” Stiles sighs, running his hands up and down the
back of Derek’s thighs. “You’re not going to enjoy anything if you don’t
relax.”
“I feel weird,” Derek mumbles, his face hidden against the pillow; Stiles bites
back the urge to tell him that he is weird and sighs, leaning forwards until he
can lean down a press a kiss between Derek’s shoulder blades.
“If you want me to stop, you just have to say,” Stiles reminds him, moving
backwards slightly as he kisses his way down Derek’s back; out of the corner of
his eye, he sees Derek nod and grins to himself. He shuffles a little lower on
the bed, lying down on his stomach and running his hands over Derek’s ass.
“Hey, can I take a photo of your ass?”
“No.”
“So mean,” He laughs, leaning down and playfully grazing his teeth over Derek’s
ass cheek. He hears the little muffled noise of complaint that Derek makes into
the pillow and God, he loves him. Loves that Derek’s letting him try this,
trust him enough now to talk about it in the first place.
He rubs his hands over Derek’s ass one last time, before pulling his cheeks
slightly apart and lowering his head to drag the flat of his tongue over
Derek’s hole. Derek shivers at the contact, his quiet moan not quite stifled by
the pillow. Stiles is pleasantly surprised, having expected to find the
actually act, in Derek’s own words, kind of gross. It’s anything but; Derek
tastes a little bit like Stiles’ shower gel, and mostly like himself, and from
the way he’s moaning every time Stiles licks at him, he’s definitely enjoying
it too. After a few minutes though, he’s starting to get a crick in his neck
that doesn’t seem like it’s going to go away anytime soon.
“Ugh,” Stiles grumbles, sitting upright. Derek turns his head to look over his
shoulder, so fast that Stiles is surprised he doesn’t give himself whiplash.
“I’m not ugh-ing at you,” he adds hurriedly, “it’s just that the angle’s all
wrong. Gimme a pillow.”
Derek does so, passing it back to Stiles rather than throwing it at his head
like he normally would and raises his hips obediently so Stiles can slide the
pillow underneath him.
“No coming on my pillow,” he adds with a laugh, slapping Derek lightly on the
ass; Derek responds by lifting his leg and kicking him in the back as he makes
himself comfortable again. Stiles grins; he definitely likes this view, likes
looking at Derek naked below him, his legs spread obscenely. He settles back
down again, sliding his arms underneath Derek’s thighs and up towards his ass
so he can hold him open more comfortably.
He drops his head and presses a fleeting kiss against the back of Derek’s thigh
before moving back up and flicking his tongue teasingly against Derek’s hole.
“You OK?” Stiles asks tentatively as Derek gasps.
“Yeah....I,” Derek starts, shifting slightly and opening his legs further.
“Don’t stop.”
“Yeah?” Stiles grins, lowering his head again and slowly dragging his tongue
upwards; Derek shivers and buries his face in the pillow once more. He keeps
licking at Derek, in slow, methodical strokes; he hears the quiet moaning
noises Derek is making every so often, feels him starting to relax and open up
beneath his tongue. He digs his fingers into Derek’s ass cheeks a little
harder, just enough to leave little crescent moon marks and extends his tongue
further, tracing small circles against Derek’s sensitive skin.
He thinks he can hear Derek murmuring his name, interspersed with moans and
curses. He tries to remember some of the other things he’s seen in the porn
videos he likes so much and figures that trying to push his tongue inside of
Derek is the best way to keep him whimpering and moaning.
“Fuck...” Derek exhales above him, raising his hips up and off the pillow a
little more as Stiles continues to work his tongue into him. Stiles
contemplates saying something, or asking for confirmation that Derek if he
likes what he’s doing to him, but figures he’ll let Derek’s muffled moans speak
for him. Derek’s getting more relaxed and open around his tongue as every
minute passes and Stiles is seriously considering adding a finger to the mix.
He’s trying to ignore the way his own cock is starting to hurt he’s so hard;
Derek doesn’t help matter by moaning obscenely and pushing back against Stiles.
Stiles unhooks one arm from Derek’s thigh and pulls away from him just enough
that he can raise his hand to his mouth and suck on his index finger. Derek
makes a little bereft noise and glances over his shoulder at Stiles, his eyes
half closed and a light pink flush colouring his cheeks.
“Patience,” he murmurs around his finger, winking at Derek. Derek flops back
against the pillow in response, lifting his leg again and resting it against
the back of Stiles’ legs.  Stiles takes that as positive encouragement and
slowly pushes his finger in before lowering his head and licking around the
tight ring of muscle surrounding his finger. Before long, he's worked in a
second finger and is finding it to difficult to mouth at Derek like he wants
to.
“You think you can come from this?” Stiles asks, withdrawing his fingers slowly
and tonguing Derek's relaxed hole again.
“Probably not,” Derek admits as he lifts his head off the pillow. “I – I like
it though.”
“Turn over,” Stiles demands suddenly; Derek whines again and reaches one hand
back, trying to grab hold of Stiles to pull him close again. Stiles slaps him
away, sitting upright and waiting for Derek to do as he’s told. “I can blow
you, right?” He asks when Derek finally obliges.
“You don’t have to ask permission,” Derek replies, reaching for his leaking
cock and giving himself a few unhurried strokes. “You know I like it when you
do that.”
Stiles grins happily before leaning down to take Derek in his mouth, savouring
the taste of pre-come on his tongue. He decides that scrabbling in his bedside
table for lube isn’t worth it, because Derek sounds like he’s already pretty
close and he doesn’t want to waste any time. He carefully works his still spit-
slick finger back into Derek, curling it upwards as he searches for Derek’s
prostate. In no time at all, Derek’s coming, filling his mouth and gripping at
his shoulder tightly.
::
“You liked it?” Stiles asks shyly, curling into Derek’s side as he lies back
down beside him. He’s feeling slightly hazy and almost as though he’s floating
in warm water, sleepy and sated after a pretty impressive blow job from Derek.
“Mm hmm.”
“So I can do it again sometime?”
“Yes please,” Derek murmurs as he pulls the comforter over them both and grabs
hold of Stiles’ wrist before he can pump his fist in the air. “Only if you want
to,” He adds, pressing a kiss against the top of Stiles’ head.
“Hell, you let go of my arm and I’ll head down there right now!” Stiles laughs,
making a half hearted attempt to yank his wrist from Derek’s grip. Derek makes
a huffing noise in his ear and wraps his arms around him, pulling him close,
and yeah, while rimming Derek is pretty awesome, lying curled around a naked
Derek is even better and he’s definitely not going anywhere anytime soon.
 
End Notes
     Yes, I am aware that rimming is probably not the most pornographic
     thing out there, but give poor Stiles a break! He's only 17, it
     probably seems fairly exotic to him! I hope this reads as kind of
     awkward between the two of them, 'cause lets be honest, in this
     'verse, they're both pretty inexperienced and not everything is going
     to be amazing and 100% gratifying first time!
     Watch me do a tumblr thang!
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