Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/625731.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Teen_Wolf_(TV)
  Relationship:
      Derek_Hale/Stiles_Stilinski
  Character:
      Derek_Hale, Stiles_Stilinski, Other(s)
  Additional Tags:
      sterek
  Stats:
      Published: 2013-01-05 Chapters: 3/3 Words: 6442
****** Your Typical Fic, Right ******
by spindleofwords
Summary
     Stiles may or may not have some ideas about his place in the pack,
     i.e how exactly there isn't one. But Stiles has also never claimed to
     be the smartest.
     In which Stiles maybe probably has a crush on Derek and werewolf
     supersense is his enemy.
***** So It Starts Like This, Right... *****
“Wait!” Stiles gasped fruitlessly as Derek did not wait but instead immediately
violated his personal space, shoving the teen against the bedroom door. Which
did things to his, his, his heart and body, maybe (okay, no, body definitely,
if his jacked up heart beat was anything to go by) but, you know. Keyword being
violated. Stiles frowned at Derek breathlessly, hand placed weakly over the
alpha’s thin cotton shirt and chest. His very solid chest….his very solid, very
warm chest…blue eyes leaned into his view and startled him back to the sound of
Derek’s voice rasping lowly in his ears.
“You’re injured.”
Stiles barely suppressed a sigh as his head thunked weakly back into the wall,
upset that something that trivial had caught Derek’s attention--- but
surprised, too. He thought he hid it pretty well though, no matter how much he
may have liked the idea of Derek possibly maybe caring about him like pack.
“Dammit, Derek, that’s it? Jeez, you came in here like the Big Bad Wolf coming
to maul somebody, what the freaking hell---“
“Stiles.”
Shit. Derek’s scarily somber tone of voice was not a good sign at all, because
it sounded like Derek might have noticed that Stiles had skipped out of post
mission check-up, like Derek knew that Stiles had thrummed up his baby as soon
as they had all returned to the station because the teen had taken one glance
at the pack and their family-ness and had known, had just known he didn’t fit
in, that he was an outsider, and it made him feel too much like a freshman
searching for a table in the vast cafeteria the first day of school again and
Stiles hated it. Swallowing down the worry in his voice and knowing he was
stalling, Stiles ventured tentatively, “D’you need something, big guy?”
No way was Stiles going to come straight out and say anything. Derek only
growled deep and low in his throat and pushed Stiles further up and into the
wall, and, hey, whoa, Stiles would’ve been willing to bet that that wasn’t
possible, but there it was right in his face. Literally. The werewolf bared
slight fangs at Stiles as the teen tensed up even more in his tight grip;
Stiles’ hands flew up to clutch where Derek’s gripped his shirt and tugged,
just the slightest bit.
“Derek, c’mon, there’s no need for all of this, okay, just let go and we can
talk about this, I guess, if you really want to, though I’m not sure that’s
entirely necessary…”
Blue eyes that seemed right on the verge of flashing red captured his own in a
furious gaze that made Stiles gulp a bit, quieting as Derek growled, “Why,
Stiles.”
It might possibly have been a question, but Derek was so socially inept that he
didn’t even know when something was funny enough to laugh at (ahem, Stiles’
jokes) so Stiles couldn’t expect much from the wolf. Trying to keep his cool,
Stiles ventured a slight question, playing it calm and innocent.
“Why what, Derek?”
The man only pushed closer so that their noses brushed together slightly and
clearly bit off another agitated growl of “Why?"
The gawky teen squirmed in Derek’s grasp before sighing and falling limp into
the hold the wolf had on him. Stiles was exhausted and his entire side hurt
like hell and he probably had a cracked rib and three and he most certainly did
not want to discuss fucking feelings right now but it looked like that’s what
was on the Hale’s agenda. Wearily, Stiles muttered, “You can’t just leave it
alone? I just want to wrap my ribs in peace and sleep, god dammit, Derek.”
The alpha only raised an eyebrow and waited. Stiles made a face before
continuing, “Look. I didn’t stick around because my dad wanted me hom—“
“Liar.”
The word is snarled into the scant space between the two of them, ringing in
Stiles’ ears, and, well, sure, he was lying, but Derek didn’t have quite so
much of an ass to call him on it, thank you none too kindly.
“The hell do you mean, liar? Look, you’re the one that asked me why!!”
The resounding snarling howl-growl that the statement earned him almost made
Stiles regret the snark he had thrown back at the wolf but not really, so he
tilted his chin forward in a definite gesture of defiance. He nearly cowered,
though, when Derek bared his teeth again and there were actual fangs to worry
about now, his canines lengthy and pointed, and so Stiles thought maybe it
would be in his best interest to shut the fuck up at that moment in time.
“I can hear your heartbeat, Stiles.”
He hadn’t really thought that it was possible for his heart to get up faster in
speed then it had already been racing away at, but then again werewolves and
kanima and bullshit like that was also supposed to be impossible and, well. Let
one Stiles Stilinski show his life. So. And, Stiles had always been mildly
uncomfortable with lying, so sue him. Damn Derek and his werewolfy abilities.
“So? You gonna make something of it, Derek? It’s not like it’s an exact lie, my
dad always wants me home by a certain time.”
Amazingly, Derek rolled his eyes at Stiles’ words and shifted his grip in
Stiles’ shirt (which made Stiles choke back a gasp) as he snorted, “Like you’ve
ever cared about that before, Stiles.”
Stiles glared right back at the ridiculously agitated wolf in front of him,
pushing back all he could on Derek’s chest, trying helplessly to get some space
between them, because, yeah, he hadn’t ever really cared all that much because
it was all for pack, for his pack that wasn’t his pack at all and he really
really really hoped Derek didn’t know anything and couldn’t read minds or
emotions or whatever he called it when he read Stiles like a book.
“It’s not anything, sourwolf, don’t get your panties in a knot—“
He interrupted himself with a slight gasp (that was very firmly not a whimper
or anything resembling that at all, thank you very much) as Derek’s eyes really
did flash red and he was being lifted bodily and felt not the solidity of the
wall behind him but nothing but air as he was tossed unceremoniously on his own
bed, his side smarting as he hit the mattress. He had mere seconds to scramble
bemusedly in the bedding of his own mattress (in his very own fucking room, how
was this his life) before he was being manhandled into laying down, Derek’s
body covering his own with every intent of pinning just as a wolf’s gaze did
with a rabbit before it devoured him, and whoa buddy, whoa there, not great
thoughts, being devoured by Derek Hale, except for how they were really awesome
thoughts because they were oh-so-good, wet dream good, and god dammit, his
brain was so fucked up with timing, it really was. Because having attracted-to
thoughts about Hale while he was laying on top of him was a bad thing, really
bad, so bad except that it was so good because he wanted to stretch into the
warmth and heat and muscle of Derek enough to lay there forever and…that wasn’t
going to happen, because, holy fucking hell shit, Derek could probably smell it
on him.
Damn his hormones.
With a shuddering gasp, Stiles began to wriggle and fight in earnest. “Derek,
whoa, bad touch, bad touch, let go of me, fuck, this is such a violation of
personal space, don’t you have any freaking manners?” The alpha ignored Stiles’
pitiful squeaking, his narrowed eyes reminding the teen of a wolf ignoring the
scared song of a bird it’s about to pounce on. Expecting a scolding, Derek
surprised him by instead giving him a brisk shake. If he was indeed a warbling
songbird, his neck would’ve been broken by that shake, one that an alpha
usually reserved for either snapping necks or bringing a cub into line. Since
he wasn’t a cub (because cubs were part of the pack and he wasn’t a cub, no,
wouldn’t ever be a cub), Stiles wrinkled his nose and prepared to die as Derek
asked again quietly, voice longer and gentler, maybe the way a wolf snuffled
before a mercy killing? And how was it even fair that he could die for not
listening to the alpha’s orders when he wasn’t pack?
“Tell me, Stiles.”
The near-plea brushed a warm puff of air over Stiles’ cheekbone, entirely too
close for anyone to be comfortable, and so the teen tilted back his head and
shut his eyes, hoping to escape the dizzying feeling. Derek made an odd
sounding noise above him as the pale column of his neck stood out in stark
relief against a dark bedspread.
“Why do you want to know?” His voice trembled and he hated himself for it, for
the weakness that shined brightly like a flare, but when he dared to make eye
contact Derek’s eyes had the same desperation in them even as he boomed angry-
desperate at Stiles like a thunderstorm, complete with the lightning shock of
his life.
“Because, Stiles, dammit...you think we didn’t notice you thought you weren’t
part of the pack?”
He couldn’t help the gasp he made or the way his eyes shot open to stare wide
and big and shiny into Derek’s, who was glaring down at him with such fury and,
and, and, hurt that Stiles breathed out in a near-sob and thumped his head back
down on his covers, feeling the weight of it bounce as Derek started to tremble
slightly, probably from the effort of speaking so many words, Stiles was sure.
Stiles raised his head again to look at Derek, who was….slumped, almost,
against him on the bed, his forehead bent low and nearly touching Stiles’
shoulder. They breathed, just sat and breathed for long moments that stretched,
and it was almost nice because apparently when combined with Adderall Derek was
a calming effect when he wasn’t being scary alpha dickwad; even the teen’s
thoughts slowed enough that he could actually, literally, almost completely
relax into deep breaths. It surprised them both to find that they were
breathing in tandem, chests brushing ever so slightly every time they breathed
in and parting as they exhaled. After forever, the alpha took a deep steadying
breath and tried again, his voice low and grumbly so that Stiles felt it more
then he heard it.
“Why would you ever believe that?”
Best as he was able to, the teen shrugged, keeping his gaze resolutely on the
ceiling as he answered softly, “I…I don’t know. I guess I just did.”
Derek huffed again against his shoulder, this time sounding more like a laugh,
fond and exasperated.
“You’re an idiot, Stiles.”
And maybe he was; but he couldn’t care, because he was the pack’s idiot, and
that made him inordinately happy.
***** Then His Life Goes Like This, Right? *****
They took great care with him, after that; he was invited places, he was carted
around on missions, forced to go to camp bonding sessions, finagled into
werewolf 101 classes (in which he was the best student and the fastest learner
because for once he could focus) and to be honest? Stiles never got tired of
it. He loved it and drank it up with an eagerness that nearly scared himself.
He spent many hours of his time texting Scott and sitting with Derek in his
room in front of his computer, learning about the healing abilities and the
triggers and everything there was to know about the care and feeding of your
very own personal werewolf pack.
It was wonderful.
But. But, it was getting harder, and harder, to stay and pay attention and be
focused anymore, because whenever he lay in his bed at night he could stare up
and feel Derek spread out all over him, only he wasn’t just spread all over at
him, scolding him, no, his lips were occupied marking his neck and his hands
were….busy. And it didn’t just stop at the slight remembrances of Derek’s
breath against his lips and the tip of his nose brushed against Stiles’ own,
no, his stupidly amazing imagination gave him too much to think about, to feel
those large hands push up his shirt, callused fingers brushing the sensitive
skin in the dip of his chest, groins lined up so they could push against each
other and get friction, glorious beautiful friction that left Stiles sticky and
gasping as he woke up abruptly in the nights, clutching fast to his pillow.
He didn’t know how it happened, but between spending time in werewolf class and
Derek giving him books and looking up research with him as the man sprawled on
his bed and made cutting remarks about the size of his intelligence, Stiles had
managed to develop something perilously close to feelings for one alpha wolf
social inept Derek Hale.
It became awkward to see him; it started to become that every time Stiles saw
those huge clear blue eyes he choked on his own cardiac muscle and had to
swallow it back down, feeling every pump of the ventricles along the way back
down to the proper spot in his chest.
And damn Scott for being perceptive at the worst time; Stiles looked up too
many times from his perusal of Derek to find Scott watching him at first
confusedly, but with more and more understanding each time it happened. After a
particularly grueling day of school in which the teachers were out for blood
and the entire school seemed to be particularly set against him, Stiles climbed
into the Jeep tiredly and waited for Scott to amble up and scurry in as well.
The pair rode in silence until Scott leaned back in his seat with a portentous
air that made Stiles cut his eyes at the wolf and finally sigh when there was
no inquiry forthcoming from the curly headed passenger.
“What, Scott, what?? I swear, you've been giving me the confused puppy vibes
for like weeks now, what is it?”
“Why do you want to fuck Derek?”
The question, expected but not in the exact sense it was posed, made Stiles’
heart jump into hyper drive and he twisted the wheel frantically before
slamming to a stop on the road, breathing hard. Shit, shit, he had just
spazzed, he was being too defensive already and he hadn’t even said anything,
how was he going to play something like this off?
Scott’s raised eyebrow (he must have acquired that from Derek, it was new and
looked entirely wrong but somehow fitting on the teen) told his friend that
Stiles had major explaining to do. Still breathing hard, Stiles let his
forehead fall down to the steering wheel with a resounding whump, heaving an
even bigger sigh.
“Shit, Scott, what the hell kind of question is that?”
Scott shrugged and looked out the window, eyes following the beginnings of a
gray drizzle that started to drip down the glass.
“One you should answer? You tell me, Stiles. You’ve been following Derek like a
lovesick girl for days. Allison just kinda mentioned it and once I saw it, I
couldn’t not see it, you know? It’s right there, in your eyes and your
heartbeat.”
Stiles sighed and reached out blindly to punch Scott, who yelped more out of
the sensation then the pain, then dragged his head up heavily to turn and look
at Scott.
“You…you can’t tell him.”
His dumb friend looked genuinely confused, for gods’ sake. What was hard to
understand about protecting one the biggest secrets in his life ever?
“Why not? He wants a go at you too, Stiles, he smells so weird every time he
sees you.”
Shuddering, the now hyped up teen pulled up straight, putting the car back into
drive from where he had thoughtfully pulled it over into park during his
freakout minutes before. Maybe Scott was right or maybe he was wrong, but what
Stiles did know was that he wasn’t going to go up to the scary alpha male and
ask.
“Whatever, Scott. It’s nothing, so just leave it.”
His friend didn’t look too sure but thankfully fell quiet anyways, keeping his
mouth shut for the rest of the ride as Stiles’ heartbeat remained uncomfortably
fast and his thoughts kept running down the road ahead of him to bring him back
images of Derek from his goddamned dreams. By the time he stopped by Scott’s
house the other teen was only too happy to scramble away from the smell of
arousal that Stiles’ was sure he had, however low-key, and to be honest Stiles
was too happy to be alone that he didn’t even feel bad for him.
Stiles never said a word about any of it, nothing at all, even when that first
day after he told Scott his goober friend had looked determined to say
something to Derek and Stiles practically tackled him from across the room
trying to shut his mouth. They had ended up tussling on the floor, making
Jackson and Lydia roll their eyes, making Erica purse her lips and laugh
mockingly, making Derek…walk away? The older man had stalked out of the door
into the open air outside without a so much as you please, anger straightening
out the lines of his body and pushing tension into them. Instead of immediately
going to Derek, like he really wanted to do with all of his stupid Hale-filled
heart, Stiles held himself back (rather admirably, he thought) as he pushed a
scowling Scott off of him and looked questioningly after Derek’s lone figure
for a long moment before turning back to the pack.
***** And Then, For Once, It Just Feels Right. *****
It blew up in his face. He knew, sooner or later, that it would; nothing ever
went right in his life for long, not long at all. And because Stiles wished so
very hard for Derek to never find out, find out Derek indeed did, although
maybe not with the awful repercussions Stilinski expected.
And it came in the form of something completely unexpected. Instead of almost
dying by a wolf attack or some other creepy non-human thing, or being grounded
to death by his father, Stiles fell one day, fell getting out of his own damn
Jeep in front of his own god damn house. What the fuck kind of justice was
there in that, that the moment that ruined his life was a stupid accident
caused by a moronic foot placement? Stiles only sighed and picked himself up,
unaware that this slight injury would be his entire world’s downfall as he saw
it.
Stiles limped into the house and went to close the door behind him only to be
swept up in a whirlwind of…of…muscle and heat and dammit, Derek, in his fucking
house again like he owned the entire place and the neighborhood freaking
beyond.
“De-rek!”
His voice came out in a singsong tone of annoyance as he was deposited on….the
counter? Squirming a little, already a bit uncomfortable, he only looked up
into Derek’s eyes with his own huge brown gaze. When nothing else was
forthcoming except that Derek had stepped back fully so that was about a foot
or three between them, Stiles sighed and slid off the counter right onto his
bum ankle that he had just literally twisted seconds ago, how messed up was he
that the sight of Derek removed all events prior in his memory banks? Of
course, he couldn’t support the weight on his ankle, because that was kind of
how injuries worked, so he pitched forward instead and splayed his hands wide
across Derek’s broad chest as he ended up ungracefully falling into the older
man.
Derek’s expression ranged from surprise to anger to that stupid I-am-alpha-I-
must-protect-look and just, just, no, okay, Stiles didn’t need this shit right
now as Derek’s hands framed the shape of his elbows and locked him in place,
frozen against the length of Derek’s body.
“D-Derek, big guy, you'll need to let go of me, I—“
“Shut up.”
Shit, he was in trouble yet again.
Derek glared down at him balefully, his shockingly blue eyes piercing, and even
through the pain in his ankle Stiles’ heart jumped into a mile run just from
looking at Derek, just from looking at his eyes. Those same eyes that widened
in surprise again as the wolf’s ears picked up the jump in heartbeat. Not good,
really not good, there was nothing good about this encounter so far today.
Nervously chuckling, Stiles began in vain to try and pry himself free with even
more vigor.
“Let go, sourwolf, I gotta check my ankle, right, gotta make sure I heal up
okay, you know, part of the pack and all that jazz, so…”
Ignoring his words, Derek leaned close to…to snuff at Stiles, obviously
breathing in the teen’s scent, which was stupid and wolf-like and dumb and not
attractive except how it was really kind of amazingly attractive because who
liked Stiles enough to even look at him, let alone smell him?
“You smell…”
“Like car oil? Ehehe, I did just fill her up—“
Derek’s eyes only narrowed and he grabbed up Stiles even tighter.
“Like you're aroused.”
Stiles’ thought stuttered to a halt at the words. Did those…was he saying…fuck,
Stiles had seen enough Animal Planet in his day to know exactly what “arousal”
meant, and the accompanying mental image made his heart not only go faster,
now, but start to beat in a staccato rhythm that couldn’t be good for him, and
strangely enough his heartbeat against Derek’s chest made the other man duck
his head and lay it down to touch his forehead to the teen’s shoulder.
“D-Derek, what would give you such a stupid idea, that’s, t-that’s crazy, why
would I…?”
But Stiles couldn’t bring himself to finish the flimsy excuse because Derek had
tensed up at the first sound of his weak, pitiful voice and his ridiculous lies
and, Jesus, he didn’t want to have to lie anymore. Not to Derek.
From beside him Derek mumbled, “Stiles, for how long?”
“U-um…"
He could feel himself start to tremble; was aware that he was shaking in the
grip of Derek’s hands but couldn’t stop. He was afraid that if he told the
alpha how long he’d had a puppy dog crush on him, Derek would be too angry to
talk to him; he couldn’t get a read on Derek, didn’t know if Derek was
colossally disappointed in him or was laughing at him and trying not to show
it. So he opened his mouth to deny any and all claims of feelings and emotions
and girly bullshit until Derek turned his head and swiped his tongue across
Stiles’ jugular.
The shock of it made Stiles jump in Derek’s arms and then arch closer into the
touch, already wanting more of that same touch everywhere and anywhere he could
get it. With a sound like a whine Derek pulled Stiles fully into his arms and
kissed him harshly, their teeth clicking and their jaws hurting and his
hands—oh hell—traveling across his waist until they rested under Stiles’ shirt
and the alpha was holding Stiles as tightly as he could. Leaving Stiles
panting, Derek pulled back to breathe, his breath mingling in the small area of
space between the two of them, both of them breathing heavily and the tip and
crest of Derek’s nose rubbing gently against the side of his own with every
breath.
“Stiles, you really are the biggest idiot alive.”
“I….might possibly be of the lesser intelligence persuasion, yea, I see how you
might get that.”
Derek actually chuckled and kissed Stiles again, taking away his attention so
firmly that Stiles never noticed he was being lifted until they were halfway up
his stairwell to his bedroom. Derek stopped in the middle of the stair to push
Stiles up against the wall and attack his neck, making the teen moan and push
into Derek’s heated touch. Stiles wasn’t sure what was going on anymore; his
brain was too busy trying to wrap around the fact that he was making out with
Derek Hale, the alpha, in his own freaking house, and that oh, hell, Stiles
moaned, arching his back Stiles was effectively turning Derek on even though he
was just like that, he gasped, hand tentatively then firmly pulling in Derek’s
hair, made the wolf whine some stupid teen that was accepted into the pack
because he forced his way in. How was this even happening?
When they finally made it up the stair Derek pushed Stiles into his own bedroom
door and brusquely removed Stiles’ shirt, panting, “I want to see you,
you’re….”
And Stiles only nodded and fingered Derek’s shirt, because he knew exactly how
the wolf felt. But Stiles didn’t get far; he had Derek’s shirt half pushed up
his abs when Derek attached his mouth to one of his nipples and began to kiss
after the sting he left, over and over and over and it made Stiles groan the
loudest yet, his bum leg hooking over Derek’s hip as he tried to bring him
closer without collapsing. Derek moved but kept his head bent, moving on to the
other nipple, and Stiles was so sure that the harsh nips were leaving bruises
on his chest but he didn’t care, how could he when Derek moving closer meant he
got shoved up the wall further and their groins aligned? Always one to look for
trouble, Stiles rolled his hips experimentally, and then things got really
fast; Derek stripped off his own shirt, stripped off Stiles’ jeans and boxers,
knelt down and took Stiles’ all the way into his mouth all before Stiles could
say anything.
“Shit!”
Stiles sank into the door with a cry, fingers scrabbling for a grip on anything
at all that could give him purchase, needing something to hold onto for dear
life and finding nothing. Instead he forced himself to stay standing as Derek
took the head of his cock into his mouth slowly, licking the underside before
swallowing him fully, cheeks hollowing.
“Shit, shit, shit, Derek—“
The older man chuckled, sending vibrations up the length of Stiles’ cock that
made him double over, belly nearly touching Derek’s hair. He could feel his
legs getting wobbly, and as they started to tremble underneath Derek’s hands
Derek lifted him and shook free one of the lean legs from the puddle of jeans
and boxers on the floor before he sat Stiles’ pale legs on his own shoulders,
leaving Stiles without a ground at all as Derek started to bob his head up and
down Stiles’ cock. The teen gave in and his hands drifted into Derek’s hair,
fingers pulling tight as Derek hummed in approval. With every zing of pleasure
that shot up his spine and coursed renewed heat through his veins, Stiles knew
he wasn’t going to last long; tugging frantically at Derek’s hair, he managed
to ground out, “A-Ah, D-Derek, I’m gonna…I’m g-going t-to…”
Derek pulled off with an honest grin at Stiles, knowing he was keeping the teen
just at the edge of a very long precipice. In fluid motion, with grace that
Stiles knew he could never hope to achieve, the man stood and picked Stiles up
like he weighed nothing, wrapping the teen’s legs around his own waist and
ambling over to the bed, all the while kissing Stiles gently down from where he
was trembling at the stimulation. Stiles gratefully laid out on the bed when
the pair reached it, reaching for Derek as soon as he was able and kissing him
with all he was worth, trying to put all of the overwhelming feelings he had
into the sensation, trying to lay out the story for his wolf by mapping out his
mouth and stroking the sensitive spot on his tongue.
He must’ve done something right, because Derek situated himself between Stiles’
legs with a moan into his mouth before he started to grind into the human
beneath him. Stiles arched up with a cry.
“That’s…! That’s, so, so—“
Derek only took the opportunity to mark at Stiles’ neck anew, kissing
underneath of his ear and the edge of his jaw before heading down the column of
his throat, leaving a mark every place his lips touched, and, heatedly, Stiles
tried to pull away while also pushing into Derek’s thrusts. “D-Derek, you’re
going to leave fucking m-marks, how am I supposed to explain those away?”
At the annoyed snark, the wolf growled and pinned Stiles’ hands above his head,
eyes flashing red for just a moment.
“You aren’t.”
Stiles gulped, realizing he was nose to nose with a predator who wanted to
claim him and that yes, his body found that very hot and sexy, thanks. Biting
his lip to keep quiet, Stiles froze for a moment and then tilted his head back
a little more, showing he was submissive to the alpha. Pleased, Derek rumbled
and bit harshly at the juncture between his neck and shoulder before laving
over it with his tongue, soothing the hurt away. And the thought of Derek being
rough with him….Stiles choked out a plea for more before he knew he was even
thinking it, but after he said it and Derek only gaped at him, the teen held on
with a steady gaze, albeit accompanied by a rapid flush of bright red.
It took them both the space of a heartbeat and then they both were tearing at
each other how was Stiles supposed to concentrate when Derek put his mouth
there and Stiles spared a second to thank whatever god was watching over them
that his dad wasn’t home because off, he was panting, offoffoffoff, he could
hear himself say over and over as he tugged at Derek’s belt loops who knew that
Stiles made some pretty fucking wanton sounds when he was aroused? Not Stiles,
to be sure. He didn’t even know that A curse as Derek fumbled with the drawer
and accidentally smashed a finger but held up the desired prize Derek was
capable of doing something like this, but then a detached small part of his
brain, the only rational part, told him that of course he should be practiced
in something like this because Stiles was pushing into Derek’s touch, Derek was
only spreading big big hands across his skin in endless patterns but it drove
him insane if someone is made of walking sex appeal they had to get it some
way, right?
And then his brain shut down entirely as his entire world narrowed down to the
feeling of Derek spreading his legs apart gently, knees opened wide. Almost
lovingly, Derek stroked Stiles’ knee, kissed it and murmured something into the
skin, while one finger trailed down his cock, circled his balls, and then
teasingly massaged the innermost part of him with a slick finger, Stiles’ own
tube of wet on the bed next to him.
“D-Derek…”
He was reduced to a panting, sprawling, moaning mess on the bed, bright red
nearly all over in a full body flush as his legs twitched and he held himself
open like some whore but Derek made everything better, Derek who kissed his
fluttering stomach muscles and licked at the head of his dick and pushed his
finger in slowly, agonizingly slowly and then sat there finger fucking into him
deep and slow until his muscles could take another finger in. The teen learned
if he just concentrated on the feeling of it his body went all soft and loose,
and he’d be rewarded with another finger. Stiles whined and tried to push down;
he was stopped as the other male reached out a shaking hand and gripped his
waist. Voice low, eyes hooded, Derek just sat and watched his fingers pump in
and out of Stiles, making the overheated teen thrash on the bed in his
supernaturally strong grip.
“You’re…”
Derek’s voice faded as if he lost his train of thought, watching the boy’s
torture with a boundless patience as he studied Stiles’s prone form and felt
Stiles become more and more restlessly nervous under his fingertips.
“D-De—ah—D-Derek, come on, come on, I want you to fuck me, get on with it!”
Derek’s azure gaze snapped up to meet Stiles’ own stare and, not sure if it
would work or just look stupid, the teen bit his lip and made his eyes go kind
of big and soft.
“P-Please?”
Sucking in a near gasp, Derek crawled back up the bed to kiss Stiles senseless
and shucked off the last part of his clothing, jeans and underwear flying
somewhere behind him that Stiles couldn’t even pretend to care about. Ripping
the condom out of the wrapper, Derek hurried to roll it on, but Stiles plucked
it from his fingers and said, “Let me,” in a voice that was hardly his own,
raspy and needy and full of sex. The man above him only moaned as Stiles’
fingers brushed along the line (the rather thick, long line) of his cock as the
teen drew his hand away, the rubber completely on. Slicking himself with a
little more lube, Derek pushed Stiles flat on his back with one hand to the
center of his chest and rumbled, “Are you…okay? With this? We don’t…”
Stiles growled, growled in frustration, sure that speaking his own language was
the only way to get through to him. Nearly snarling, Stiles said, “Derek.
Hurry. Up.”
Derek’s eyes became hooded as he bent his head and pushed into Stiles slowly,
taking his time though the brunet’s head thrashed on the pillow and his fingers
dug into the tan skin of Derek’s biceps, asking for more. He rolled his hips
against Stiles’ skin after he was pressed flush up against the brunet and
Stiles moaned, pushing back down with his own hips unthinkingly. Hands
tightening into the soft pink skin at Stiles’ hips, Derek began to thrust in
slowly with measuredly deep thrusts that made Stiles stutter out a small,
hitching gasp nearly every time the wolf drove into him.
Unable to help himself, Stiles wanted to get closer, closer still, addicted to
the feeling of Derek in him, claiming him roughly as if he were something that
belonged to the wolf, something wanted and cherished. The teen’s hands bluntly
clawed red welts down Derek’s back, arching into Derek just to get more of the
brush of skin on skin, and even as he bared up his chest and heart and soul
Derek leaned down and demanded Stiles’ lips, groaning at the feel of Stiles’
tongue pushed up against his even as Stiles tried to focus on getting enough
air to kiss him with. Stiles felt dizzy, as if he was floating in a dream-like
state that was all too real, like someone had turned up his television to high
contrast and he was seeing everything in sharp and bright detail. The way the
sweat fringed at the tips of Derek’s hair; the way his skin felt like it was
bruising under Derek’s punishing grip; the way the pale light of a half-moon
spilled into his room from the window and lit up the line of Derek’s back and
his own hands gripping Derek’s shoulders tightly. Everything noticed but
forgotten in the space of one breath, one thrust, able to think too much in the
sharp pull out but unable to do anything but hang on for the push back in, the
slide of it making Stiles shudder in Derek’s arms as Derek gathered him closer,
an arm around his waist that tilted him up and —oh holy mother of god—changed
the angle.
“A-ah, ah, Derek! Derek! Right there, that’s—“
His voice trailed up into a near scream as Derek slammed into his prostate
again, taking the waves of pleasure he was experiencing and folding them into
themselves doubly. They were starting to build, not only waves now but literal
shocks of sensation that spiked across his spine and out through his
fingertips, and he was hyper aware of his cock brushing against Derek’s
stomach, of Derek whispering, “Yes, just like that, come on,” every time he
shivered into a gasp or moan, and Stiles knew that he was going to be fried out
before long.
“Shit, shit, Derek, I’m…I-I’m…please, can I, will you let me…?”
It didn’t feel right to not ask permission, felt like the most right thing in
the entire world to ask permission from his alpha for one of the most important
moments he’d ever have with Derek. Voice low and wrecked, Derek laid Stiles
flat on the bed and leaned in close, hooking one of the pale long lines of his
legs over his shoulder and pushing into Stiles faster.
“I can smell it all over you, you’re so tense, come on already, come, I want to
see it.”
A violent shudder ran through Stiles’ muscles before he slammed up, back in a
perfect bow, as he shot long stripes of white across his own chest and belly,
feeling, belatedly, a spot of it land under his chin. Spent, Stiles relaxed
completely only to whimper and lock his arms around Derek’s neck as Derek
finished, thrusts erratic and even faster, brushing against his oversensitive
prostate in a way that hurt brilliantly well.
Both of them panting, Derek pulled out slowly as he was able to manage, earning
a whimper from Stiles as he trembled on the bed. The alpha lay slowly down next
to Stiles after he tied off the condom and threw it away, and immediately had
himself an armful of spent, happy, come-smeared teen. Stiles unashamedly
pressed in closer to Derek, arms wrapped around him, tucking his head under the
larger man’s chin.
“Mmm, Derek.”
Derek’s voice was tired but amused as he tilted up Stiles’ chin and licked at
the small stripe of come under his jaw, murmuring, “Yeah, Stiles?”
The teen only pushed into the touch and smiled tiredly at the small lapping of
Derek’s tongue cleaning his neck.
“Stay?”
Derek tensed for a second before re-arranging himself and Stiles on the bed so
that Stiles was sprawled across his chest, then closed his eyes and relaxed
into the mattress before muttering yes with that stupid half smirk that Stiles
knew very well.
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