Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/14890.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Kingdom_Hearts
  Relationship:
      Axel/Roxas
  Character:
      Axel_(Kingdom_Hearts), Roxas
  Additional Tags:
      Alternate_Universe_-_High_School, Car_Sex
  Stats:
      Published: 2009-11-17 Words: 1075
****** Under The Influence ******
by orphan_account
Summary
     Roxas wants to show Axel how happy he is to see him. Too bad he
     decides to do it on the freeway.
Axel slumped lazily in the driver's seat, hair flaming red against the cracked
brown leather.  The cheap silver rings on his fingers flashed as he hit the
horn again. 
           
"Need a ride, baby?"
           
Roxas hopped down off the curb.  He leaned in the front window, arms propped on
the roof of the banged-up old Honda Accord.  He grinned.
           
"What's it gonna cost me?"
           
"Hmmm…"  Axel drummed his fingers on the dashboard.  "Not much.  Just your
virginity."  He didn't bother to lower his voice, and a couple of girls
bouncing across the crosswalk turned their heads in perfect synchronization. 
Axel gave them his best pedophile leer.
           
Roxas laughed.  "A little late for that."  He shoved his bookbag through the
back window, scrambling in through the front. 
           
"Hey, hey, watch the paint," Axel said, giving the blond a smack on the ass. 
"It's already chipping off enough as it is."      
           
"Yeah, I noticed," Roxas commented, flicking a light blue fleck off his T-shirt
as he shoved his legs around to situate himself in the passenger seat. 
           
Axel grinned, winding his fingers in the stubborn spikes of the boy's hair,
pulling him over the parking break and kissing him, sloppy and open-mouthed. 
Roxas' breath escaped in a shuddery laugh.  He hoped none of his teachers were
watching.  But right now, he didn't think even his math teacher catching him
making out with a dude could kill his high.
           
It was warm, bordering on hot, two weeks away from summer vacation, and he was
with Axel.  He felt giddy and elated, wind whipping his hair around his face
and into his eyes as the car picked up speed, jetting away from school and
toward better things.
           
"So, where d'ya wanna go?" Axel asked, as they pulled up at a red light.  "Your
house, my house?  Are you hungry?"
           
"Anywhere," Roxas answered happily, and he meant it.  Axel had been away for a
little over two weeks, on a road trip with a friend.  He'd graduated from high
school a year ago, and had yet to show an inclination in any higher education. 
Whenever anyone asked him what he was going to do with his life, he'd toss them
a cocky grin. 
           
"Enjoy it as long as I can."
           
Roxas watched Axel survey the traffic, the way his eyes narrowed to squint past
the slanting afternoon light, how he tossed his head to shake his hair back
from his face.  
           
Turning the radio on, Roxas flicked through the channels, searching for
something besides static and country music.  He wasn't exactly sure which of
those was worst.
           
"You can't get a single decent channel out here, babe," Axel said, glancing his
way.  "Nothing but news.  And I'd rather not hear about the rapid decline of
life as we know it."
           
"It's cool," Roxas chirped, flicking the radio off.  "You're hard."
           
Axel arched a brow, glancing down in the general direction of his crotch. 
"Good call."  He laughed.  "Hell yeah, I'm hard, baby.  It's been nothing but
me and my left hand for two fucking weeks."  
           
As they pulled onto the main road, a positively devilish idea occurred to
Roxas. 
           
His fingers crept up Axel's thigh.  Muscles twitched and tensed under his
touch.  He rubbed a quick little circle over the buldge between his legs.
           
"Fuck!" Axel squawked, slapping him away, quickly jerking the steering wheel
back as they began to drift into the passing lane.  "Roxas, I'm fucking
driving!"  
           
"Yep," Roxas agreed, pulling down the zip, working a hand inside.  He was met
with the sweaty-slick skin of Axel's cock, thick and almost fully erect.
           
"Roxas…"  Axel was trying for anger, but his voice was doing that little
breathy rasp�"the sound he made whenever he was hopelessly turned on.  The
hands holding the steering wheel were clenched, the knuckles turning white.  
           
"Roxas, don't you dare suck my dick while I drive," he gritted out through
clenched teeth.  "I'll run into some goddamn kid on a tricycle."
           
"Hmm, I have faith in you," Roxas murmured, leaning down and sucking the
flushed head into his mouth.  The skin was a little sweaty and sour, musky from
being confined in a pair of jeans all day.  It didn't taste fabulous, and the
angle was pretty awkward, but all of that was secondary to the way Axel's
thighs trembled, the way his breath hitched as he fought to hold the car
steady. 
           
"Okay, seriously, Rox, I'm g-getting on the freeway.  You're gonna fucking kill
us!" 
           
Roxas just hummed, laving his tongue across the head, making sure to make those
lude slurping noises that always got Axel so hot. 
           
Fingers laced in his hair, alerting him to the fact that his boyfriend was now
driving with one-hand ,while under the influence of a blow job.  He was almost
giddy with nerves, the exhilaration turning him on, making him wish he was at a
decent angle to jerk off. 
           
"Rox, this is only supposed to happen in
pornos!"                                       
           
Roxas laughed, momentarily forgetting he had a cock down his throat.  He
choked, coughed a little, and pulled back with a wet sound.  Glancing up
through his bangs, he said, "Yeah?  Well, I always thought we'd make some sexy
porn."  He cleared his throat, going back to work, pulling Axel's jeans lower
on his bony hips, taking his cock back into his mouth.  He couldn't do much
besides quick sucks and little licks, not in the this position, but it was
definitely getting the job done.
           
Axel's fingers were stroking through his hair, and he was making noises that
fit somewhere between desperation and rage.  The car drifted off across the
neighboring lane, before it was jerked back by Axel's shaky grip on the wheel. 
They were beginning to attract the attention of their fellow commuters, cars
flashing their lights and honking their horns, like agitated beasts growling
out their anger. 
           
"Roxas, I'm gonna crash this car and they're gonna find us with my dick in your
mouth!"
           
"There are worse ways to die," Roxas murmured, probing his tongue into the slit
on the head, before plunging his mouth back down, sucking hard.  Axel cussed,
thighs twitching, fingers fisting in all that blond hair. 
           
Roxas had just enough time to swallow before the flashing red and blue lights
appeared in the rear-view mirror. 
           
"Shit!" Axel groaned.  "You fucking suck, man!"
           
"I know," Roxas grinned smugly, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. 
"Put your dick away."
Please drop_by_the_archive_and_comment to let the author know if you enjoyed
their work!
ver the
teen's full lips, asking for entrance to Stiles mouth which he was granted as
Stiles gasped and leaned even further into Derek.
Stiles pulled away panting for breath a moment later, resting his forehead
against Derek's and trying desperately to draw enough air into his starved
lungs for his brain to start working again.
"Stiles?" Derek murmured, turning his head to run his nose along the underside
of Stiles' jaw.
"Hmm?" was Stiles' hummed reply; his eyes closed in enjoyment of the new and
intoxicating contact.
"Untie me?" Being tied to the column and unable to move wasn't Derek concern,
it was not being able to touch Stiles like he craved.
"Right. Yeah, okay," Stiles stammered as he stepped back. He shook his head a
moment before returning his attention to the ropes around Derek's chest. His
mind reeled as he worked the rather dull blade of his cub-scout knife over the
thick ropes. Had that actually just happened? Had Derek really kissed him? Not
just kissed him, but kissed him like he wanted to do a whole lot more, too. The
kiss that Stiles wasn't even sure had actually transpired held a promise of so
much more.
He paused a moment to lift his hand to his own mouth as if he could feel the
press of Derek's lips and the burning trail of his tongue still against his
skin. He chanced a glance over his shoulder at Derek, but his heart dropped a
little when he found the werewolf staring straight ahead, his face locked into
his usual scowl. Clearly, Derek wasn't feeling as euphoric about their shared
moment as Stiles had been.
Stiles took a deep breath and refocused his attention back to releasing the
binds around Derek. Cutting through the last strand of the rope, he stepped
back as the coil started unwinding and fell around Derek. He helped to push the
rope down Derek's body until it fell loose around his legs, and took a couple
of steps back allowing Derek space to step free. Once he was no long bound
tight to the column, Derek was able to break the rope that tied his wrists
behind his back.
They stood awkwardly a few feet apart, neither saying anything, barely looking
at one another for a few moments before Stiles turned toward the entrance.
"Come on, I'll take you to Deaton's," he huffed over his shoulder, feeling
nervous about what had happened between them only minutes before. Derek
followed silently, wondering if he had made a mistake in kissing Stiles. He had
thought the kiss was wanted on Stiles' end as much as his—the second kiss had
been initiated by him after all—but now he was only getting a sense of
confusion and denial from Stiles. Despite the uninhibited feeling he still had
from the drugs he'd been given, he couldn't bring himself to actually ask
Stiles what he was feeling.
By the time they got to Stiles' jeep parked at the front of the building, Derek
had worked through the scenario in his mind several times. He couldn't deny how
he felt about the younger man any longer; it could be the drugs clouding his
mind, it could be the feeling left after finally kissing him, or maybe the
exuberance with which Stiles had returned that kiss, it didn't really matter.
He didn't want to stop this thing from moving forward if he could help it.
"I don't need to see Deaton. Just take me home," Derek said as Stiles turned
the key in the ignition causing the old engine to roar to life.
"Home?" Stiles asked, looking nervously over his shoulder at the Alpha. "Like,
your house? Or the train station?" he clarified.
Derek hadn't meant either if he was being honest. He had wanted Stiles to take
him to his house. He felt safe there, and he didn't want to be away from the
boy. The nervous energy rolling off the teen in his direction made him second
guess vocalizing that fact even though everything inside him was screaming for
it. Perhaps the effects of the drugs were beginning to wear off, or he had just
gotten used to them?
"It doesn't matter," he said leaning his head back on the head rest and closing
his eyes against the overwhelming urge to bury his face in Stiles' neck again.
He wanted to comfort him and reassure him that everything would be okay. He
hated the scent of worry on his skin; he always had, but knowing it was him who
had caused that distress made the feeling even worse.
"I think you should be checked over, you know, to just, um, make sure that,
you're...okay" Stile voice wavered as Derek turned his head and looked at him
with one cracked open eye.
"Stiles, just drive," Derek sighed. "Please? I'm fine," he tried again to calm
Stiles' nerves.
"Okay, well, uh, Isaac will probably stay with Jackson, I guess," Stiles began
thinking out loud as he threw the jeep into reverse and backed out of the
parking lot. "So he won't be going back to the station tonight, the house is
closer, but you haven't been there in a while, so the station is probably
better, I guess?" Stiles rationalized. "But if Isaac doesn't come back tonight,
you'll be there alone. He glanced nervously over at Derek as he drove down the
deserted road through the industrial area of town. "I could...uh, I could text
Scott, to uh.." he normally would have just suggested that he himself stay with
the Alpha, or that he come back to his house, but was feeling uneasy with the
very suggestion given the moment of unexpected intimacy that they had shared
back at the warehouse.
Nothing in Beacon Hills was actually very far apart, and it wasn't long until
Stiles was pulling into the old overgrown lot surrounding the decommissioned
train station that Derek and the others had been using as their base since the
threat of the Alpha pack had run them away from the ruins of Hale house.
"You're more anxious than normal," Derek said as soon as Stile had shifted into
park.
Stiles stammered his denial, "No!" knowing full well that Derek would be able
to tell he was lying. Hell, he would be able to detect that lie it was so
obvious. "Yeah, I am," he admitted with a nod, not even turning to see Derek's
incredulously raised eyebrow.
"Why?" Derek knew why, or he thought he did; that Stiles either regretted
kissing him, which he hoped wasn't the case, or that he wanted to kiss him
again. He wasn't able to determine which was the case from the mixture of
scents and cues coming from him though. His heart was pounding, and he smelled
of a mixture of nervous anxiety, and sadness that was cut with a heady dose of
lust. Stiles wiped his palms down the front of his jeans before finally turning
to look at him; their eyes only meeting for a brief second before the teen
looked away again.
"I just...well, I wasn't really, um...I wasn't expecting that, back there," he
stammered. Stiles was always animated when he talked, but he was practically
flailing about the cab of the jeep with his rambling confession. "The, uh...the
kiss, I mean," he added, finally flicking his eyes back to Derek, a flush
washing over his pale cheeks.
"Are you upset?" Derek asked quietly, not daring to look away; needing to see
the reaction in Stiles' face.
"No," Stiles was unable to look away from the werewolf now that he'd locked
eyes with him.
"Good." Derek shifted forward in his seat, turning to face Stiles in a slow
sure movement. "Stiles, I want to kiss you again." He closed his eyes a moment
against the blatant honesty the drugs still caused in him, but opened them
again quickly.
"You do?" Stiles seemed shocked.
"Yes."
"Oh," Stiles' voice cracked. He swallowed thickly, and licked his lips, drawing
Derek's attention first to his bobbing Adam's apple and then to his full bowed
mouth. Stiles just stared at him in return, his eyes wide with uncertainty.
The air in the cab of the jeep was heavy and overly quiet for a long drawn out
minute as they stared at each other. Derek focused on the hammering of Stiles
heart and how he licked his lips nervously a few more times. He fought the urge
to reach across the small space and touch them, or to touch Stiles at all.
"Can I?" Derek finally broke the prolonged pause.
Stiles shifted, bit his lip and nodded with a nervous quick bobbing of his
head. He shifted again to turn in his seat to face the wolf across from him.
He'd had his first real kiss less than a half hour ago, unexpectedly, and was
apprehensive to say the least. He hadn't ever considered Derek in this
capacity, not really. Sure he could appreciate that the Alpha was attractive,
extremely attractive. Even given the fact that Stiles wasn't entirely convinced
of his bisexuality, he was willing to admit at least that much. Sure, he had
considered guys as a potential, but had never done anything to act on that. He
had been completely infatuated with Lydia until earlier in the year, and hadn't
really had a lot of time to focus on finding a new candidate for his affection,
what with the constant threats to his life due to his involvement in the pack.
Derek moved forward slowly, reaching his hand behind Stiles' neck as they
leaned closer together. Stiles watched him closely until he was so close that
he was no longer able to focus on his green-grey eyes, finally closing his own.
Derek paused a moment hovering his lips just above Stiles as Stiles drew in a
shaky breath, then lightly let his lips touch down. The contact was brief and
soft before Derek pulled back slightly, allowing Stiles' reaction to filter
into his senses. The boy was still nervous, but he wasn't giving off any cues
of panic or discomfort, so Derek leaned in and kissed him with more conviction.
He allowed his mouth to press to Stiles' closed lips for a few seconds before
gently moving against them. He toyed with Stiles' lower lip, drawing it between
his own teasingly and pulling another ragged breath from him. Stiles' hand
reached up between them and curled around Derek's shoulder. Derek took that as
a sign, allowing himself to relax into the kiss.
He let his senses flood with everything Stiles: the feel of his skin and hair
under his finger tips on the back of his neck; the smell of his skin as his
anxiety and nervousness melted into a building excitement and longing; the
sound of his heart as it beat in his chest and the soft hitching breaths in the
back of his throat threatening to turn into a moan at any second; and the taste
of him. The orange tic-tac taste was less obvious now allowing him to fully
savour the flavour of Stiles' mouth—sweet and something warm and familiarly
spicy like cloves or cinnamon. Derek snaked his other hand around Stiles' waist
and shifted him forward in his seat, pulling them closer to one another as the
kiss deepened. The mounting moan in Stiles' chest slipped free and Derek
swallowed the sound greedily as he teased his tongue into Stiles mouth, licking
and exploring every corner he could reach, Derek shifted forward in his own
seat, wanting to get closer still.
He raised his hand up the back of Stiles' neck to tangle in the short strands
of soft hair and drawing his head back, giving him access to the span of soft
pale flesh of his neck. Stiles gasped and sighed as Derek's tongue trailed up
the front of his throat and over his Adam's apple ending in a little nip to his
chin before Derek ran his nose along his jaw to his ear.
"God, I've wanted this for so long, Stiles," Derek breathed into the space
below Stiles' ear, winding his arms tighter around him. Stiles' braced himself
against Derek's broad chest, revelling in the feel of his hands and mouth on
him. He'd never experience anything as intoxicating as this and he wanted to be
closer to him still. He fought to ignore the voice in his head, the one planted
there by his father repeatedly about boundaries and taking things slow and
being respectful—although when his dad had given him these talks it was always
hypothetical since he'd never had an opportunity to exercise his dad's lessons
on behaving like a gentleman in reality. He wondered if they still applied when
he was the one that was clearly at a disadvantage both in experience and in
physical strength. He certainly didn't want to act like a gentleman. He wanted
to crawl into Derek's lap and press himself close to him. He wanted Derek to
know exactly the effect this was having on him; he wanted to push his hard dick
against him.
"Uhn, shit, what took you so long?" he choked out a belated reply to Derek's
confession, trying to keep a little decorum between them. Derek had spoken; it
was only polite to reply, right? With words if he could. Thinking was becoming
increasingly difficult as Derek's hands slid roughly down his back leaving a
burning path under his shirt. Derek was clearly having the same thoughts of
getting closer, as his hands scooped under his ass and pulled him forward,
dragging him across the space between the seats. Stiles clumsily moved one leg
to either side of Derek's thighs until he was effectively straddling his lap.
The jeep's cab was cramped for such close proximity given that neither of them
was particularly short. Stiles' ducked his head as he settled himself on
Derek's thighs.
Derek pushed his face back into Stiles' neck, holding firmly to his hips,
breathing the varied answers to Stiles' question between kissing and tasting
all of the younger man's exposed skin.
"I wasn't sure," he started with a nip to Stiles' earlobe, "you'd want this."
Trailing his tongue over the shell of his ear he continued with, "You wanted
Lydia, not me." A line of small kisses along the tendon in Stiles' neck were
followed with "And you're so young," the truth escaped Derek in a pained
sounding moan as he shifted his fingers under the hem of Stiles' t-shirt to
brush lightly along the skin above his waistband. 
A soft shuddering sigh was the only reply Stiles was able to make for several
minutes. Derek added to his distraction by hooking a finger in the neck of
Stiles' shirt and tracing his collar bone with the tip of his tongue.
"If it weren't for whatever they shot me full of, I probably never would have
said anything." Derek said with a huffed laugh in the dip of Stiles' throat.
The truth of what Derek had said was like ice water running through Stiles'
veins. The realization, or reminder rather, that Derek wasn't fully himself
right now came flooding back along with the Sherriff's life lessons over the
years.
"Oh Fuck, wait," Stiles gasped as he stiffened in Derek's arms and pushed
against his chest, trying to put some distance between them.
Derek's arms dropped immediately letting Stiles sit back against the dashboard,
still perched on his lap. "What?" He searched Stiles' face, feeling a sudden
panic bloom in his chest. He'd laid everything out on the table for Stiles,
holding nothing back, and was going to be crushed for showing the weakness.
"We shouldn't..." Stiles panted with a mixture of panic and lust stealing his
breath from his lungs. "We...you're not thinking straight...I can't...Fuck,
Derek, I'm sorry. I'm not that guy. I should have remembered. I'm sorry," he
rambled, scrubbing his hand through his messy hair.
"I am thinking straight, Stiles," Derek said quietly, reaching to touch his
arm. He allowed the kernel of hope rise within him. Stiles' smell filled the
cab and surrounded him and he didn't smell like he didn't still want this. "I'm
thinking more clearly actually. I wasn't lying when I said I've wanted you like
this for a long time." He slid his other hand up the front of Stiles' leg,
gripping firmly to the top of his thigh in an attempt to get back some of the
physical contact between them.
Stiles clapped his hand over Derek's on his leg, stopping him from moving it
any higher, even though he really wanted him to. He moved out of Derek's lap
and back to his own seat, further out of Derek's reach, trying to keep his mind
focused on the conversation rather than the tingle of his skin where it missed
the Alpha's touch.
"Derek, as much as I would love to keep playing tonsil hockey with you,
because, yeah, I totally, totally would. But seriously, I need to know that
your head is clear for real. That this isn't some side effect of whatever
Wolf's Bane cocktail those assholes gave you." He sighed heavily and slumped
back against his seat, closing his eyes. "I should have taken you to Deaton's."
"No. I don't need him," Derek muttered. They say quietly in the jeep, neither
looking at each other for a few long quiet moments. Their quiet brooding was
broken by the sound of Stiles' phone beeping a text message alert in his back
pocket.
Stiles arched his hips up to get at the phone in his back pocket, inadvertently
drawing Derek's attention to the still rather noticeable bulge in the front.
After reading the message the younger man sighed heavily before turning to look
back at the Alpha.
"It's Scott. He's just dropped Jackson and Isaac off, and is heading to
Alison's, of course." he said with an annoyed roll of his eyes. Scott was still
seriously hung up on the hunter's daughter, and even though she had proven
herself trust worthy, Stiles was still unhappy about the amount of time his
best friend spent with her. It certainly wasn't jealousy, either. "Do you want
me to tell him to come here instead?"
"No, he'll need the reassurance that she's okay; let him go," Derek answered,
avoiding looking at Stiles it seemed.
An awkward silence fell between them. Derek sat motionless, starting out the
windshield toward the entrance to the train station while Stiles fidgeted with
the phone still in his hands. Derek could sense his uncertainty again, and felt
it reflected in himself. He was sure of his feelings for the teen, that wasn't
a question, but the teeter totter of emotions that Stiles was projecting was
making him question that certainty. Despite the effects the drugs had had on
his inhibitions, Derek was having a hard time building up to what he wanted to
say to the youth.
"I..." he began, his voice coming out in a croak and betraying him. He drew in
a deep breath and swallowed thickly before attempting to speak again. "Will you
stay?" He closed his eyes a moment before turning his head to face Stiles.
Stiles' eyebrows pinched together low on his brow, masking his usually wide,
bright eyes with a heavy concern. "I don't think..." he began, only to be cut
off by Derek's rushed response to the unspoken rebuttal.
"I don't want to be alone," he admitted—clearly the potion was still causing
him to blurt his thoughts unchecked.
Stiles' mouth hung open slightly, his tongue running lightly over his lower
lip, which Derek couldn't' pull his eyes from. "Derek,"
"I won't touch you if you don't want me to. I just...please?" he asked,
quietly, raising his eyes from Stiles' mouth to meet his eyes.
Stiles was nodding before he spoke. "Yeah. Okay," he agreed.
Derek nodded too, and let out the breath he didn't realize he had been holding.
***** Kiss by the Book. *****
Watching the Alpha for cues, Stiles reached his hand up to rest on the latch
for the door, raising his eyebrows in a slight question. Derek followed suit.
They walked across the lot and up the steps to the station in silence,
maintaining a distance between them. As they descended the interior stairs, the
available light dropped off, until Stiles was left to hold tight to the
handrail and step down each stair carefully. Finally he reached back into his
pocket and retrieved his cell phone, using the light from the screen to light
his path.
"Hold on," Derek muttered, rushing down the remaining steps and disappearing
into a small room that must have been the ticket office for the station. He
returned a moment later holding an industrial flashlight which he switched on
and handed to Stiles.
"Uh, thanks."
Derek only nodded in response and turned around.
Stiles had only been to the station once before, but the differences were
immediately noticeable. The old train still sat at the platform, but the
platform itself and surrounding area had all been tidied up. Stiles noticed
that there were various items of equipment stacked against the wall of the
platform the further along they got.  Derek remained close to Stiles, walking
slow enough for him to keep up while watching the lit path under his feet. At
the far end of the platform they went through a door behind a gate. Looking
around, Stiles figured the room would have originally been an operations office
of some sort; a few pieces of equipment remaining along one wall. Now, the room
was a make-shift apartment. There was a desk and chair tucked into one corner,
a few books and papers scattered across the top, and a gas lantern on the
corner. Next to the desk was a shelf with neatly folded piles of clothing, and
a few personal items. A mattress laid on the floor along the opposite wall.
Stiles noted that the bed was neatly made which struck him as strange given
that it was located in an abandoned underground train station.
Feeling nervous as Stiles inspected his make-shift living quarters, Derek felt
the need to explain the situation to him. "Isaac managed to get the water
running so there's a bathroom."
Stiles nodded, still taking in his surroundings. It seemed more hospitable than
the burnt-out house Derek had been living in. He had expected it to be damp and
drafty, maybe crawling with rats, instead he felt comforted by the effort Derek
put into his space. And he felt tired; a wave of exhaustion swept over him as
he turned back to face the werewolf still standing near the door.
Seeing the human's fatigue, Derek stepped forward and guided him to the bed,
pulled the covers back. Stiles placed the flashlight on the floor near the head
of the bed, pointing it at the wall to create a pool of light. Not a word was
spoken as Stiles again took his cue from Derek and they stripped down to
underwear and t-shirts and crawled into bed.
Stiles lay on his back, clutching the blanket to his chest with his head turned
to face the man in bed with him. The man that he had been kissing frantically
only minutes prior. The anxiety of the situation swept through him again,
raising his heart rate and alerting Derek to it. He fought the urge to pull
Stiles into his arms and try to comfort him; he knew that would only make him
more nervous. Tentatively, he stretched his fingers across the cool cotton
sheet between them until it brushed Stiles' upper arm.
"Will you give this some thought?" Derek asked, closing his eyes against the
vulnerability of his request. "Us, I mean?"
Stiles smiled nervously, his eyes drifting over the other man's face. "Ask me
again in the morning when the drugs are out of your system," he replied
blandly, still feeling like the whole evening could be the result of Derek
being drugged by the Alpha pack. He hadn't thought about Derek in that way
before tonight, but that idea dropped a heavy sadness into Stiles' stomach.
"I will," Derek said.
Unsure if Derek meant he would ask in the morning or if he would still want
Stiles in the morning, Stiles decided the best thing to do was to go to sleep
and deal with it then. He leaned over to click the flashlight off and lay back
on the mattress. Derek slid his hand further forward to rest his fingers on the
curve of Stiles' shoulder.
Despite the stress of the night and being in a strange bed with another man,
Stiles fell quickly into a deep sleep.
 
===============================================================================
 
Stiles woke feeling overheated. It took him a second to remember where he was
when he first opened his eyes. There was a small amount of light spilling in
through glass block at the top of the high ceiling, lighting the room enough
for him to see basic shapes around the room without the flashlight. He looked
around the old station office, shifting slightly, only to have the strong arms
circling his waist tighten around him. The strong arms he hadn't even realized
were there; the strong arms that seemed to be the source of the unreasonable
heat; the strong arms belonging to one Derek Hale, Alpha of the Beacon Hills
pack.
Stiles froze. Before he gave into the panic that threatened to bubble up from
his chest, he evaluated the situation. It was Derek's arms wrapped snuggly
around him, not vice versa. It was Derek's face pressed tight into his side,
not the other way around. He was the victim here, not Derek—maybe victim was a
strong word; he didn't feel victimised. On the contrary, apart from his arm
that was pinned against his side having a slight pins and needles feeling in
it, his body seemed pretty content with the situation—perhaps a little too
content even, but a 17 year old guy could hardly be blamed for waking up with
morning wood, could he? Whatever condition his traitor body was experiencing
could not fairly be blamed on him, surely.
Always wanting as much information as he could get about any given situation,
Stiles tried not to move his body and rouse Derek as he angled his head down so
he could see just what he was dealing with. Derek was on his side part way down
the mattress, one arm draped across his waist and wrapping around his side, the
other hand curled around his elbow. The werewolf's head was pillowed on the
teen's left biceps with his face pressed tight against his ribs; warm moist air
from his deep sleeping breaths warming the cotton over his chest.
Stiles marvelled at how peaceful Derek looked in his sleep. The Alpha's brow,
usually furrowed in what seemed to be a permanent scowl, was relaxed leaving a
clear sight line to the dark eyelashes that rested against Derek's cheeks. He
looked so much younger that he typically did when the weight of the world
seemed to rest on him. Stiles wondered at how it was possible that Derek could
be even more good looking—life just wasn't fair sometimes!
Even if they had been practically trying to climb into each other's mouths last
night, the closeness felt too intimate and Stiles felt like he needed to
disentangle himself—hopefully without waking Derek because he was sure that
there would be some sort of retaliation at being caught in such a vulnerable
position. Moving slowly, he clasped his fingers lightly around Derek's forearm
across his stomach, gently trying to lift it up and away from him. Of course he
had grossly underestimated the weight and strength of his snare and had been
too optimistic of his chances of getting out of the tangle of arms.
Derek woke with a start and before Stiles knew what was happening, he was
pinned to the mattress by a vice like grip around his upper arms, knees pressed
against each side of his chest and firm thighs pinning his hips down. Derek's
snarling face was mere inches from his own.
It was only a split second of the Alpha staring into the youth's wide shocked
eyes before he realised what was happening and released his grip on Stiles'
arms and leaned out of his face. He didn't, however, remove himself from his
perch on Stiles' lap which caused a instant flush of pink to the younger man's
cheeks as he realised he was still sporting a rather noticeable tent in the
front of his boxers.
"Oh...uh..." Derek muttered, realising the predicament he had placed them in,
and quickly removing himself from Stile's lap. Stiles sat up quickly and
scooted to the edge of the mattress away from the Derek. Derek, who was
kneeling on his side of the bed staring at an indistinguishable spot on the
sheet near his knees, his hands clenched on his thighs. His face was set in his
usual scowl, which settled Stiles' nerves a little--at least he was dealing
with more familiar territory this way.
"Um...I didn't mean to wake you," Stiles said quickly and quietly after a
painfully awkward silence. Derek lifted his head to look at him, his eyebrows
drawn tight over his eyes and his jaw set rigid. Stiles always felt the need to
fill the air when Derek was a stern and serious like that, so he continued his
quick ramblings. "How are feeling now? Better? You seem surly this morning,
or...I mean, you seem more like yourself...uh...well, I..."
"Stiles?" Derek growled at him.
"Yeah?" the teen answered; the click of his throat as he swallowed audible in
the quiet room.
The scent of arousal drifting off Stiles and mixing with the remembered
feeling, despite having been sound asleep, of having his arms around the youth
only moments ago was causing Derek some difficulty in restraining himself. He
remembered the feeling of Stiles' hands on him last night, the taste of his
mouth, the sound of his unrestrained pleasure. Derek wanted all of these things
and more, but fought the urge to act upon his desire.
"Shut up," he gritted out through clenched teeth.
'Uh...okay, yeah. I'll just, um...go I guess," Stiles continued to ramble as he
reached off the side of the mattress for his jeans. He had his pants pulled up
around his hips, buttoning them when the light touch of fingers on his forearm
stilled him.
"Don't," Derek's voice croaked quietly.
Stiles turned to look questioningly at the Alpha who moved across to the far
edge of the bed and stood on his knees in front of him. He couldn't find his
voice, which had to be some sort of first for him. He just gazed down at Derek,
his brow furrowed and his jaw still tight.
"Don't what?" Stiles asked finally, his voice hardly above a whisper.
"Just...don't go yet," Derek huffed. "We should," he stopped to take a deep
breath before starting again. "We should talk. About last night, I mean."
"We don't need to," Stiles mumbled, his cheeks blazing as he stooped to pick
his jacket off the floor and started to cram his feet back into his runners.
"Stiles!" Derek said more insistently, and clamped his hand around Stiles' arm.
The teen had no choice, but to stop his action, there was no way he was going
to get out of the werewolf's grasp. Derek wasn't holding tight enough to leave
a mark on his skin yet, but he knew from experience if he struggled his grip
would increase. All he wanted to do was get out of there so he could deal with
the odd rejection he could feel welling up inside of him. He hadn't thought
about Derek in that way until they had kissed last night, but had easily fallen
into a comfortable pattern once he got over the initial shock. Heck, he had
even been hopeful that Derek had meant what he had said when he'd asked if
there was a possibility for them to try this...whatever this was. But the way
Derek had launched himself across the bed away from him and avoided making eye
contact had crushed any hope that Stiles may have had of Derek feeling the same
once the drugs had worn off.
Stiles thought he should be used to rejection by now; he certainly wasn't a
stranger to it--but this felt worse because he hadn't been the one to start
things rolling. Without looking at Derek at all, Stiles pled his case. "Derek,
please. Let me go," he sighed quietly.
"Not until you listen to what I have to say. This isn't easy for me, okay? Just
sit down?" Derek asked, pulling Stiles gently forward. The younger man sat on
the edge of the mattress and rested his arms on his raised knees; his head hung
low still not making eye contact with the wolf.
Derek sighed heavily, opened his mouth to start talking and closed it again. He
rubbed his hand through his hair and sighed again. "Jesus, Stiles, I don't know
what's making you so upset, but can you just look at me, please. The sadness is
rolling off of you."
Stiles turned his head slowly and licked his lips nervously before raising his
eyes to look at Derek, who was now sitting next  to him on the edge of the
mattress with one leg bet underneath his so he could face Stiles.
"You don't need to explain anything Derek. I knew last night that when the
drugs were out of your system, that things were going to go back to normal...I
just didn't expect it to sting so much, that's all," Stiles mumbled the last
part under his breath while turning away from Derek again. It was loud enough
for Derek to pick up easily.
Derek reached his hand out, hesitating a moment with uncertainty flooding
through him, before letting his fingers brush lightly over Stiles neck where a
small purple mark had been left by his mouth the night before. Seeing the mark
on Stiles' pale skin made the possessive nature of the wolf rise up within him,
he wanted to add further marks to the boy.
"Stiles, things are the same as they always have been," he said quietly, a
little hurt that Stiles had flinched at the light touch.
"Yeah, thanks for clearing that up," Stiles quipped, his voice heavy with his
usual sarcasm as he got to his feet and made for the door.
"Stiles! Damn it, would you look at me?" Derek growled, catching Stiles' arm
and stopping him before he walked out of the room, letting his hand fall back
to his side once Stiles had stopped. "Everything I said last night is still
true...it's always been fucking true. That's..." Derek's breath caught as he
saw Stiles' crumpled brow soften as his words started to get through to him.
"That's what I meant by things are the same. You said to ask you this morning
when my mind was clear if we can try this...Stiles, my mind is clear, and I
still want to try this if you're up for it," Derek finished, and watched
Stiles' face carefully for his reaction.
"Jesus! I think that's the most words I've ever heard you speak at one time."
Stiles relied on the first thing to come to mind to fill the space while he
digested Derek's confession. He looked into Derek's piercing eyes, realising
everything he had said was completely true. In one fluid motion, Stiles dropped
his jacket, stepped forward quickly closing the gap between them, raised on
hand to the back of Derek's neck and kissed him hard. It was only a split
second before Derek caught up with the sudden attack and met him with as much
force and hunger. Grabbing Derek's hip with his other hand, Stiles turned them
so Derek's back was to the wall and backed him into it. Derek's breath huffed
out of him as his back hit the wall.
Stiles had spent countless hours thinking about--fantasizing about-- what it
would be like when he finally found someone that liked him back, and none of
the things he had imagined had even been anything like this. None had ever been
this charged with pure need. None of them had ever, ever had him aggressively
attacking his partner's mouth so ferociously, and none of them had ever been
with Derek 'I'm-a-fucking-god' Hale. He briefly thought that he must be
dreaming--it was the only possible explanation as to why the Alpha werewolf was
letting him press him into the wall with his body. Deciding if it was a dream,
he had better make the best of it before he woke up.
He pushed himself flush against Derek, feeling his hard muscled body under his
chest. He ran his hand roughly down Derek's sides pulling a gasp from him,
which Stiles swallowed while licking into Derek's mouth. He slid his long
fingers under the hem of Derek's grey t-shirt and traced his path back up his
rib, bunching the shirt up along the way. Derek's skin was hot and smooth under
his touch, and he wanted to feel more of it. Still holding on to his Dad's
prudent talks about personal boundaries, he felt the need to check with Derek
if what he was doing was okay, only to have his question answered by Derek's
own exploring hands. He broke away long enough for Derek to pull his shirt over
his head.
Derek's hands smoothed down Stiles' back, pulling their bodies tight together
again.
"Oh, shit!" Stiles hissed as Derek arched his hip off the wall while holding
his hips, rubbing their very noticeable erections together.
"Tell me if you want me to stop," Derek panted, his pupils blown wide and
rimmed with a hint of red.
Stile shook his head briefly before finding the ability to string words
together to answer Derek's concerned look. "I want to say yes," he breathed,
nodding his head for emphasis, "Not no." Registering Derek's still hesitant
look, Stiles dragged his hand further up his sides and took his shirt off too.
"That's ok?" he asked, waiting for Derek's nod of approval before bending his
head to lick and kiss his chest. "Just talk to me?" he asked, making his way
lower.
"Yeah, okay. I can do that," Derek agreed in a breathy pant. "Oh, fuck!" he
moaned as Stiles swiped his tongue over his nipple before letting his teeth
lightly trap it.
Stiles' asking Derek to talk worked, for once. Murmurs of appreciation fell
from him as Stiles dragged open mouthed kisses along his collar bone. His
breathy moans of "fuck, yes" encouraged Stiles' to continue touching and
exploring the muscles of his back and shoulders. His gasping of Stiles' name
like a prayer as those long, sinful fingers he'd been watching for months
dipped just under the waistband of his underwear coupled with a questioning
quirk of eyebrows before Stiles attacked his mouth again with fervor.
On the contrary, Stiles had never been quite so quiet that Derek had witnessed
before; he was all silent intensity as he put his oral fixation to good use.
"Stiles?" Derek panted, as Stiles ran the tip of his tongue along the shell of
his ear. He wanted to just let go and give into to Stiles completely, but he
felt lost and needed to gain some control back, even if just momentarily.
"Hmmm?"
The vibration of Stiles' voice on his throat pushed Derek's wolf nature closer
to the surface. "Fuck," he growled as teeth sunk into his ear lobe. Grabbing
Stiles' wrists, he quickly turned them around and pinned Stiles' arms to the
wall at shoulder level. "My turn."
Stiles' shocked face quickly slipped back into a lascivious grin that Derek
kissed away leaving him breathless. He slid Stiles' hands down the wall and
turned them so his palms were flat on the cool wall near his hips. "Keep your
hands there?" Derek asked, rather than instructed, maintaining the clear
consent guidelines.
***** Role Reversal *****
Chapter Notes
     Short short chapter tonight, sorry. Hopefully the next one will make
     up for it.
One quick movement had Derek on his knees in front of Stiles before Stiles had
a chance to even fully realize the role reversal. He pressed his palms into the
wall where Derek had put them, trying to keep from reaching out to touch Derek.
A task that became even more difficult when Derek leaned forward and buried his
face in his stomach.
"Uh God, Derek," Stiles gasped as the Alpha's burning mouth skimmed down his
skin leaving him tingling and aching for more. More was exactly what Derek had
in mind, too, as he deftly slipped the button of Stiles' jeans open and slid
the zipper down, skimming his knuckles over the hard bulge of his dick. Derek
wasn't taking his time, but he kept up with his agreement to talk as he went.
"Stiles, I'm going to suck you," he said, looking up the length of the younger
man's body from his position in front of his waist, waiting for confirmation
despite knowing that Stiles was fully on board with his plan; having
supernatural senses came in handy for more than just hunting down enemies and
detecting lies.
Stiles nodded frantically. "Yeah. Oh, hell yes," he gasped, reaching to help
Derek's fingers already in the waistband of his boxers. Derek guided his hand
back to the wall before pulling the obstructive cotton away and taking Stiles'
cock deep into his mouth.
An unintelligible noise, not unlike the sound a wounded animal might make
pulled from Stiles' chest at the feeling of warmth enveloping his dick.
Derek bobbed up and down Stiles' length, alternating between swirling his
tongue over the head and sucking hard enough for his cheeks to hollow out. He
didn't have a lot of experience when it came to blow jobs—giving even less than
receiving—but it wasn't long before he found a rhythm that had Stiles
whimpering and writhing against hold on his hips.
Stiles had his eyes closed and his head thrown back against the wall
concentrating on the amazing feeling of Derek's hot mouth. Derek growled deep
in his throat to pull the teen's attention back to him as he stared up at him.
Once he'd made eye contact, he flicked his eyes to one of Stiles' hands and
back to his face before humming his encouragement. It was only a brief moment
before his intent registered through Stiles' lust-hazed mind, and the long
fingers Derek had so long been watching twined into the hair at the back of his
neck. He arched into the touch and practically purred in response without
stopping his teasing of Stiles' dick.
He slid his hands off of Stiles' hips where he had been holding him still
around to tug the teen's jeans a little further down, allowing him to fill each
hand with smooth white flesh of his ass.
"Shit, Derek...I'm close," Stiles panted a few minutes later, rocking his hips
forward and tightening his hold on Derek's hair in an attempt to warn him. It
was only the polite thing to do, right?
Derek hummed around the mouthful of Stiles' cock, sending a shudder through
him. He looked up, catching Stiles' eye again and holding it. Holding the slick
base of Stiles' cock, Derek hollowed his cheeks as he slid his mouth back up
the length, growling his approval as Stiles tugged lightly on his hair again.
"Oh, fuck," Stiles gasped as his body tensed and his orgasm peaked. He came in
Derek's waiting mouth. Derek pumping his hand up and down, milking every drop
from Stiles who leaned his head back against the wall and shuddered and moaned
above him. Derek continued to suck and lap until Stiles began to squirm with
the sensitivity. He held the younger man's hip firm against the wall and looked
up at his blissful face.
"Holy Hell, Derek," Stiles sighed. He felt weak in the knees and if it weren't
for Derek's firm hold on him, he was sure he'd collapsed in a boneless heap to
the floor.
Rising to his feet in a fluid motion, Derek guided Stiles over to the mattress
on the floor and settled him on the bed and lay down next to him. He watched
Stiles in awe, tracing the path of pink flush over the teen's naturally pale
skin from his cheeks, in blotches down his neck and mottled over his chest.
Stiles shivered under his light touch and a smile broke over his mouth before
he turned his head and cracked one eye open to look at Derek.
"Oh! I can uh, help with that," Stiles stammered, shifting onto his side and
reaching his hand out to where Derek was lazily stroking himself through his
underwear. Derek caught his wrist before he had a chance to, though.
"No," Derek mumbled shaking his head, looking briefly at Stiles and then away
quickly, like he was embarrassed or suddenly shy about something.
"Why not?" Stiles felt a little self conscious which Derek must have caught on
to quickly.
"I don't want to finish yet," he explained quietly earning a perplexed look in
return from Stiles.
Lacing their fingers together and drawing Stiles closer to his chest, he leaned
in to nuzzle the boy's neck a moment before whispering his real explanation
into Stiles' ear. "I don't want to come until you're inside me."
Shock streaked through Stiles at Derek's confession. He must have heard the
Alpha wrong or something. Maybe Derek had misspoken? He drew back until he
could look Derek in the eye, searching for the truth of what he'd heard. He
felt like a fish out of water, his mouth gaping as he struggled to wrap his
head around what Derek had said. "What?" he asked, his brow crumpling a moment
in confusion. Derek remained quiet and let his request fully sink in.
"Oh my g..." Stiles trailed off, still searching Derek's face as if he were
waiting for the 'gotcha' moment or a punch line. "Oh!" Stiles' eyes widened as
realization swept over him. "Yeah?" he asked finally, his eyebrows rising
comically high in question.
Derek nodded and breathed "yeah", remembering his promise to keep talking to
Stiles.
"Holy fuck," Stiles groaned. He pulled their laced fingers apart and grabbed
hold of Derek's hip roughly pulling him closer and kissed him brutally hard.
After a moment the kiss slowed and deepened and threatened to rob both of their
breath. Panting, Stiles pulled back to confirm again that he'd heard Derek
properly.
***** Do You Want To? *****
Chapter Notes
     I can't even believe how long this one has sat without being
     finished. If anyone actually reads it, thank you! and I'm sorry for
     the crazy long delay. There will be at least one more chapter after
     this one.
"Stiles," Derek panted as the teen searched his face disbelievingly. He
remembered Stiles' earlier request for him to keep communicating. It had seemed
to work in his favour to be as direct as possible up until now, so he asked,
"Do you want to fuck me?"
Stiles nodded his head, his perpetually parted lips falling further open as he
drew in a sharp breath. Derek could hear his heart hammering, and raised his
hand to press against the pale skin of Stiles' chest.
"Good. I want you to. I try not to think about how much I want you to," Derek
confessed. Once the truth spilled from his mouth, he felt powerless to stop
more from following. Not due to the intoxicating effect the wolfsbane
concoction had had on him the night before, but from the liberating feeling of
not denying what he wanted any more. "God, Stiles," he groan as he nuzzled into
the younger man's neck, whispering his secrets into his skin. "I've spent so
much time watching you and wondering what it would be like if I could do this;
if I could just touch you. Never letting myself think too far ahead because I'd
never thought that you would ever want me, too," he pulled back and looked in
the teen's face again, making sure that was in fact true.
Stiles nodded again before gasping out a "yeah." They watched each other a few
moments as hands drifted over skin slicked with the heat of being tangled
together until Stiles managed to get his senses back under his command and
asked, "Um...how?"
"How?" Derek raised a questioning eyebrow
"Okay, not how, exactly. I think I can figure that much out. I do have an
internet connection," Stiles rambled. He was a teenager with a curious mind;
he'd seen a healthy share of porn or just about every description. (So, he'd
done a little exploring in his earlier teen years, what of it?) He had a
healthy view of what his interests were, and yes, he was definitely interest in
fucking Derek. "Where do you want to be, I guess? I mean, I'm not going to lie,
the whole Alpha wolf thing hasn't really been that intimidating for a while,
sorry, but being a...um...bottom isn't something I ever expect from you."
Stiles was letting his mind run away with him, working himself into a frantic
rant as different thoughts occurred to him. Sure, Derek was fully in control of
his wolf nature—he'd been born that way, if he didn't get it by now he was a
lost cause—but the idea of him submitting and giving control over to someone
else like that was something Stiles just couldn't get straight in his head.
Stiles sat up and tucked his knees underneath him as he turned to face Derek.
"I wasn't an Alpha when I figured out what I wanted in bed." Derek said simply,
with a little raise of his one eyebrow.
Stiles wasn't sure how it was possible to be even more surprised in this
situation, but Derek's matter-of-fact tone did just that. "Oh. You've done this
before?"
"A couple of times," Derek confirmed with a shrug. "Sit back against the wall,"
he instructed while standing and pushing his underwear down over his hips. He
bent to pick up a small bottle of lube tucked between the top of the mattress
and the wall and knelt on the mattress again.
"Yeah. Okay. This works," Stiles stammered as he slid back toward the wall as
Derek swung one leg over him to straddle his thighs. He raised his hands and
lightly rested them on Derek's hips. At Derek's insistent "I'm not going to
break, Stiles," he curled his fingers into smooth skin as Derek settled in
Stiles lap.
The first brush of their cocks against each other had Stiles hissing with
pleasure, arching his back off the wall, and leaning up to attack Derek's
mouth. Stiles pulled Derek down while pressing up into him; loving the contact
of hot skin, and loving even more Derek's nearly crushing weight. Derek didn't
even try to hold himself off the smaller man, knowing that despite appearances,
Stiles wasn't a skinny weakling; he could take it, and clearly he wanted it by
the way he was clawing at him.
After what was either a few seconds or hours of grinding and sloppy wet kisses,
Derek shifted his weight and blindly searched the mattress for the discarded
lube. He kissed a wet streak down Stiles' neck before pulling away. He watched
Stiles a moment, both of them panting to catch their breath. Stiles' eyes
followed his as he looked down to flip the top on the lube and pour some onto
his finger tips. He clicked the bottle shut and placed it within reach while
rubbing the lube between his fingers to warm it. Stiles watched him intently,
never letting go of the hold on Derek's hips, as Derek rose slightly onto his
knees and reached behind to start opening himself up.
"Jesus, that's hot," Stiles murmured causing Derek to smile—a genuine smile.
Something Stiles hadn't witnessed much, and certainly never at this close
range. It left him reeling and scrambling to catch up as he stared at Derek's
freely upturned lips.
"You still with me?" Derek asked, his smile turning into a smirk.
"Yeah. Yes," Stiles stammered, nodding frantically. "Can I?" Stiles sat forward
a little and reached tentatively around Derek's hip, sliding his fingers
lightly along the back of Derek's hand, brushing along his knuckles in askance.
Derek nodded, slipped his fingers free and wound them with Stiles to share the
slick lube. Stiles breath caught in his throat. He didn't break eye contact
with Derek at all as e slid his middle finger smoothly around the rim of
Derek's hole before pushing it in alongside Derek's own fingers.  Stiles
watched, slacked jawed, as Derek closed his eyes and tipped his head back, a
soft moan passing his lips and his muscles fluttering around their entwined
fingers.
"God, you're fucking beautiful." Stiles' mused admiration was more a
realization to himself than directed at the werewolf in his lap, but Derek
reacted by leaning forward and capturing his mouth in a wet, filthy kiss.
It wasn't long before Derek was breaking away and panting "I'm ready, are you,"
against Stiles' kiss swollen lips. "Do you still carry a condom in your
wallet?" he asked after Stiles nodded his enthusiastic agreement.
Stiles blinked and raised his eyebrows as he shook his head, attempting to
focus on Derek's question. Protection was important. He mentally scolded
himself for forgetting that very important detail; his dad would be so
disappointed that his continual safe sex lectures hadn't fully sunk in. Not
that he intended to let the Sherriff in on that little detail, of course.
"Yeah, I've got one," he nodded. 
End Notes
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