Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/595102.
  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:
      Glasses, Blow_Jobs, glasses!kink, Sarcasm
  Stats:
      Published: 2012-12-16 Words: 1613
****** Your Eyes on Me ******
by slipintothewater_(secondstar)
Summary
     Stiles hates his new glasses. Derek does not feel the same way.
Notes
See the end of the work for notes
Stiles blinked repeatedly, looking at himself in the mirror.
“I hate them,” he muttered, rubbing at his eyes beneath his brand new pair of
glasses.
“Well, you’re just going to have to get used to them,” the Sheriff conceded as
he paid for them. Stiles sighed, clearly against the glasses. “Maybe if you
tried a little harder to put the contacts in-”
“No, no way. Sticking things in my eye? No thank you. Do not want, at all. Did
you see me trying?”
“I did,” the Sheriff chuckled, shaking his head. “Hilarious.” Stiles frowned
angrily. It wasn’t his fault that the contacts felt like hellfire when they
touched his eyes. He would rather wear something that was easy to put on than
fight with his eye every time he wanted to drive his Jeep, because now,
apparently, he needed to wear them in order to drive. He called bullshit on the
whole conspiracy.
“Ha ha, dad,” Stiles snarked, adjusting the glasses on his face. He wondered
how long it would take him to break his first pair. Glasses, while being chased
by alphas, didn’t sound like a very good plan. He gave this pair a week, tops.
Stiles heard his phone go off in his pocket, letting him know he got a text. He
pulled it out, seeing that it was from Derek. “What?” He said to no one in
particular. The text read ‘pack meeting, where are you?’ “Oh, shit.”
“What is it?” His dad asked, raising an eyebrow at him. “Don’t tell me-”
“I gotta go,” Stiles chirped. He stopped dead in his tracks at his father’s
look.
“Oh no you don’t. You and me? We’re going to dinner. Scott can wait.” Stiles
made a face, thinking about mentioning that the text wasn’t, in fact, from
Scott, but from Derek. That wouldn’t go over well so Stiles pursed his lips,
keeping that little tidbit of information to himself. He sent Derek a quick
response of ‘can’t.’ and left it at that.
He didn’t end up getting home until well past dark, with his dad going in for a
night shift. Stiles had a huge pile of homework, which was his fault for
putting it all off until the last minute but he had hours before he would
normally even think about crawling into bed.
Stiles barely had time to even open his book and boot up his computer when he
heard his bedroom window open.
“Scott, I really can’t-” Stiles turned around to see that it wasn’t his best
friend crawling into his room, but Derek. “Oh.” Derek was staring at him weird,
with one eyebrow raised. Stiles did it back, flailing his arms around. “What?”
“You’re wearing glasses,” Derek pointed out. Stiles had forgotten for half a
second and moved a hand up to his face to feel them.
“Oh, yeah. I have glasses now. Which explains why I’ve been squinting so much
lately.”
“You, uh, glasses.”
“You make sentences good,” Stiles mocked as he turned back around to open up a
word document to start typing up whatever assignment he had to get done for
English.
“You weren’t at the pack meeting,” Derek stated. Stiles could tell by how his
voice shifted that Derek had made his way over to Stiles’ bed, like he always
did when he climbed through his window, which was becoming more and more
frequent as of late.
“Yeah, my dad took me to dinner,” Stiles said offhandedly, biting his lip as he
read over his assignment. “It was good. Fries and a burger, the usual.”
“Stiles,” Derek prodded, wanting Stiles’ full attention. Stiles swung in his
chair, looking at Derek, his breath catching in his throat at how Derek was
looking at him.
“Derek...?” Stiles muttered, elongating Derek’s name, his voice rising at the
end to make it a question. Within seconds Derek was inches away from him, his
hands on the armrest of Stiles’ chair. “Hey there, buddy,” Stiles joked,
patting Derek’s head. “Whatcha doin’?”
“I want to touch you,” Derek informed him, his voice catching right before the
word ‘touch’. Stiles’ cock practically came to life in his jeans at the notion.
Stiles gulped.
“I’m sorry, repeat that sentence,” Stiles deadpanned, his hand pulling away
from where he was just playfully petting him. He had not expected those words
to come out of Derek’s mouth.
“I want. To touch you,” Derek reiterated, slowly, through clenched teeth as if
it was painful to say.
“Oh, okay. That’s a lot clearer and makes more sense the second time around-”
“Stiles.”
“Yeah alright, dude, I don’t see-” Derek’s lips were on his, his hands cupping
Stiles’ face, his thumb against the frame of Stiles’ glasses. Stiles’ eyes were
wide until he realized that Derek’s were shut, that Derek was kneeling in front
of him between his spread legs, and that Derek’s tongue was teasing his lips
apart. Stiles relaxed into the kiss, closing his eyes, parting his lips enough
to let Derek in. It was easy, causing him to let out an involuntary moan,
sending a shiver down his spine. Stiles gasped as Derek ended the kiss, one
hand on Stiles’ thigh, his palm spread wide. “Holy shit.”
Derek let out a shuddering breath, a laugh hidden beneath it. Stiles smirked,
licking his lips absentmindedly.
“Where did that come from?” Stiles asked, not knowing what to do with his
hands, so he gripped the armrest tightly. Derek’s nostrils flared slightly,
which, wow, Stiles’ face was still really close to Derek’s. Way close. So close
that Stiles felt Derek’s breath on his skin as he leaned in again, capturing
his lips once more.
“Been keeping it to myself,” Derek admitted.
“And you decide now, the night I have to write an essay and I didn’t show up
for a pack meeting, would be the night that you climb in my room and seduce
me?” Stiles asked, his breathing shallow and quick. Derek smiled knowingly.
“It’s the glasses, isn’t it?”
“I may or may not like the glasses on you.” Stiles felt his cheeks reddening.
He hated his glasses, he didn’t want them.
“I look stupid in them.”
“I disagree,” Derek argued, a finger pushing Stiles’ glasses against his face.
Stiles’ mouth twitched, as did the growing bulge in his pants. Derek looked
down, as if he just knew. Stiles fidgeted in his seat.
“Ah, well, uh...”
“Can I touch you?” Derek asked again. Stiles balked, his jaw dropping as he
nodded. He watched Derek sit back on his heels, the hand on his thigh slid
upwards, rubbing against him, his fingers gripping him through the fabric of
his jeans. Stiles made a loud squeaking noise, completely unexpected. He
clasped a hand over his own mouth as his legs spread apart instinctively.
Derek, the corner of his mouth turned upwards in a self satisfied smirk, leaned
down and raked his teeth across Stiles’ jeans as a hand slid upwards underneath
Stiles’ shirt. Stiles hooked a leg around Derek’s back as he let out a strained
moan, his cock practically throbbing in his pants at Derek’s touch. Derek
lifted his head, his hand replacing his mouth as he looked Stiles in the eye.
“I’m going to blow you.”
“Shit, yeah, okay,” Stiles stuttered, nodding his head as he bit his bottom
lip. Derek practically yanked at Stiles’ jeans, unzipping them and pulling them
down Stiles’ thighs just enough that he was no longer restricted. Stiles was
halfway off the chair, but recovered quickly, pulling himself back up by the
armrest, fingers gripping it tightly, his knuckles white.
When Derek wrapped his hand around Stiles’ erection, his stomach muscles
convulsed involuntarily. Stiles laughed nervously, because holy shit Derek’s
hand was on him, and it was stroking him and he was basically leaking precome
like there was no tomorrow. Derek slicked Stiles’ shaft with it as his wrist
twisted, changing angles. Stiles’ head flew back, resting on the back of the
chair with his eyes closed. He just about jumped out of the chair when he felt
Derek’s mouth on the tip of his cock, his tongue teasing his head. His mouth
open and gasping for air, Stiles whimpered as Derek took him into his mouth,
his hand jutting out and gripping Derek’s hair as Derek bobbed his head up and
down, sliding his tongue against Stiles’ length.
Stiles jerked his hips, forcing Derek further down his throat, choking out a
sob as he felt his cock hit the back of Derek’s throat. His stomach tightening
as it happened again and again, the sound of Derek’s mouth filled the room as
he sucked and lapped at Stiles. Stiles came down Derek’s throat quickly,
quicker than Stiles would have liked, considering it was his first blowjob
ever.
Stiles still had his fist in Derek’s hair as Derek backed up, his hands on
Stiles’ thighs. Stiles dropped his hand once he noticed that Derek was leaning
in for another kiss. Stiles could taste himself on Derek’s lips. He moaned into
it, his fingers automatically returning to where they just were, his legs
hooking around Derek as he pushed against him.
“Like that?” Derek asked. Stiles nodded as he laughed a bit.
“Surprise blowjob? What’s not to like about that? I mean, damn. You could have
told me that climbing through my window twice a week was going to lead to
blowjobs.”
“Nah,” Derek said, his mouth on Stiles’ neck, teeth raking across his skin.
“The glasses put me over the edge.”
“You can’t be serious,” Stiles replied, his hand instinctively adjusting his
glasses. Derek nodded. “Well, fuck.”
Derek laughed, kissing him again. Stiles was actually glad he had to wear
glasses now.
End Notes
     This was written for Mel, who donated to my theatre!
     She wanted Stiles to get new glasses, to not like them, and for Derek
     to take.... an interest in them ;)
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