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The Fuzzy Kind

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“Fuck.” Stiles gritted out, as Derek just… just went to town. “Fuck.”

He had an arm braced on the headboard to keep from slamming into it, and a hand braced on the bed just starting to shake. He knew he was going to be sore in the morning, shit, he was sore now. He could almost feel his hips bruising where Derek was holding him in place, at the perfect angle for Derek to just light him up every time he slammed in.

Stiles knew it was not going to take long. Derek so rarely let himself go like this… But Stiles had been deliberately baiting him all evening, playful, teasing, starting things, and then heading off to do the dishes or take out the trash or- the laundry was the last straw. Derek picked Stiles up bodily, with one arm, over his shoulder, and carried him from the laundry room. Stiles squirmed and yelled all the way until Derek threw him on their bed (which had more-or-less been the plan, after all. Just, Stiles expected less man-handling… which in hindsight was stupid).

And now here they were, going like energizer bunnies…

Stiles felt the sharp prick of claws emerging at his hips, and then Derek threw himself forward with a particularly forceful thrust, plastering himself across Stiles’ back. Stiles focused on the regret of loosing another set of sheets, and maybe a mattress topper, to keep himself from coming immediately at the sight of Derek sinking his claws deep into the bedding on either side of them.

It was a good thing he couldn’t spare a hand to jerk himself, because this was it, he was pretty much there already, mostly untouched, just knowing how into it Derek was.

Goddamn they needed a mirror up, like, yesterday. Stiles was willing to be derek was completely wolfed-out behind him. And he couldn’t see it! Face to face then, next time, if he could manage it. Maybe he’d stretch first…

“Der-derek. I’m gonna-”

Derek growled, actually growled, and pulled Stiles upright with the backs of his arms, claws safely pointing away. A sharp move with his knee, and an angled jut of his hips and Stiles’ legs were wide, almost seated on Derek, who was supporting him fairly well as he thrust up and up and up. Stiles cried out and turned his head, needing to see Derek who, yup, was completely fur-faced. His fangs were bared in a way that might have been completely terrifying if Stiles didn’t know it was pleasure that had his lips tight and pulled back like that, his eyes were bright and unnatural beneath his half-open eyelids, and his breath was hot as he panted out his rhythm.

Stiles was done for.

He came with a full body convulsion that forced his eyes shut. He couldn’t pitch forward with Derek’s arms there, but his hips canted up up up and he could feel himself shooting up his body, across his left collar bone, over his shoulder, everywhere. Derek growled and whined and pulled Stiles down, shoving himself deep one, twice, three times, grinding into him as deep as he’d even been.

Stiles, sated, content to let Derek do as he liked, blinked away some of the haze when he… when he felt it.

A little more clear-headed, he clenched experimentally and Derek grunted happily. Yup.

“Derek. Did… are you knotted?”

Derek stilled, suddenly, and then buried his hot face against the back of Stiles’ neck.

Stiles could feel the fur, but no fangs, Derek’s teeth clenched as tight as his fists were, stiles saw when he glanced down, tight enough to draw blood.

“Hey, buddy, no,” Stiles said, pulling out enough coordination to pet Derek’s arms and try to coax his hands open. “Derek, it’s okay. I like it. It’s… well I’d say it’s what I wanted to happen, but since I didn’t really know it could happen…”

A miserable whine forced its way out of Derek’s throat.

Stiles gave up on his hands, and reached back to pet at his head instead, running fingers through his hair where he could reach it, tracing the pointed shape of his ears.

“It’s really okay Derek.”

He could feel Derek relaxing a little bit, enough that his hips started moving a little again in a slow grind that Stiles thought he could definitely get used to. Even when he wasn’t hard, it felt… really pretty good. Pressure in all the right places and…

“Are you, you’re still coming right?”

He clenched deliberately around the knot, and Derek let out an involuntary grunt of pleasure, and nodded against his back.

“For a while?”

Stiles felt Derek’s shoulders go up in a shrug.

“Well, I like it-” He broke off to shiver at the sensation, which really was fucking awesome, “But my legs aren’t gonna stay up much longer, dude. Can we-?”

Derek held Stiles’ hips against his with one arm, careful not to move and tug on Stiles’ (increasingly) sore rim, and gently leaned them down, and then rolled them sideways, so Stiles didn’t have to take his weight.

The slow, tight, good movements kept up. Stiles thought he could almost get hard again, if he wasn’t so tired. He tucked one arm under his own head for a cushion, and ran his other down Derek’s arm, finally coaxing his fist open.

“No commentary, buddy, but I might drift off a little. Feel free to keep doing what you’re doing.”

Derek finally relaxed, letting the last of the tension go, and settling in to enjoy the tie.

Yeah, Stiles thought, they were very good at this.