Actions

Work Header

Prepared

Work Text:

            No one would ever say that Derek Hale isn’t prepared. Derek needs to excel at everything he does, so he’s very careful to memorize details. If being prepared means that he studied for four hours last night on the character he would be today while being filmed fucking another guy on camera, well he’s not fucking it up.

            The goal is to make his creepy uncle Peter some money, so that Peter will pay his way through school. The next goal is to make sure that if any future employers stumble upon his face on their screen moaning out some dude’s name, they will see that he commits to the job, to the character at the very least. The goal is to not hate himself when he goes home to an empty bed.

            These are all things that Derek reminds himself on a daily basis. Today, he’s playing a best friend to another guy. They joke about watching porn together, and throw on some heterosexual porn. The other guy won’t be able to resist touching himself. Derek’s supposed to start touching himself, until they touch each other. Then they’ll do a blowjob and have a quickie. That’s all.

            While the script isn’t very interesting in itself, Derek finds the situation a little different from the stuff he’s been doing lately. He gets to pretend that this is his first time, gets to be a little shy and bashful. It’ll be a nice change of pace.

            Derek hasn’t met the guy he’s supposed to be working with today, and he’s not sure what his name is. He usually works with Jackson Whittmore, who recently threw a hissy fit and said he would only continue working with the company—Hale and Argent—if he doesn’t have to work with Derek anymore. It hadn’t bothered him too much, except that he’s surprised at Jackson’s reasoning—sex with Derek had become boring, routine. They had a new script every Monday and Thursday, so Derek’s not sure how it had become boring.

            He doesn’t mind though. Working with someone new would be nice. Derek pushes the door to his uncle’s studio. He hates that Peter sucked him into this world, but if it paid for school, he wasn’t going to complain.

            Erica Reyes strides towards him, her red heels making him wince a little. How could she walk in those? She gives him her best sassy smile. There’s no other way to describe it. “Derek, you’re working with quite the hottie today.”

            “I am?” he says, lazily. It helps when his partners are attractive. Jackson had lost his charm quickly, especially with the harsh way he gave blowjobs. Many things Jackson does are harsh though. It’s more than a relief that they’re no longer.

            She nods. “You are one lucky duck. C’mon, let’s get you all dressed up. I had fun with this outfit. It’s super casual, so you’ll be comfortable on set for once.”

            “You’re an angel,” Derek says, giving her his best look of appreciation. She just hums in agreement and steers him into his room. “So is this guy new or…?”

            “I hate that you never check out the competition,” Erica says with a pout. “You could start doing that, you know. His stuff is great. I think he even got to Boyd.”

            Derek’s eyebrows jump up. Boyd has been working on set with them for as long as Derek can remembers. Boyd never got excited about gay porn. He mainly wore an expression of boredom whenever he was hanging around during filming. It’s a strange place to meet the love of your life, but Erica and Boyd had fallen in love. They’ve been going strong for over a year now.

            A new kid got to Boyd though, and that means that maybe, just maybe, Derek is working with someone interesting. For once. The last somewhat interesting person he’d worked with would have been Danny, but Danny had also requested to not work with him. Derek isn’t annoyed about that, because he and Danny just hadn’t…meshed well on-screen. Off-screen, they got drinks together sometimes.

            “Okay, I’m listening,” Derek says.

            Erica’s bubbling with excitement. “This guy has a great mouth. You’re going to fucking love it.”

            “The script doesn’t call for him to use his mouth on me,” Derek tells her with a shrug. She picks up a pair of sweatpants. He hadn’t worn these in a video in a few months. It’ll be nice, because they’re comfortable. She tosses him a black shirt. He strips in front of her, unconcerned about her seeing him naked. She’d see him fucking a guy in twenty minutes anyway.

            “Dammit, Derek. You’re going to wish it did. He makes great sounds. I mean, they’re actually great. And he does this thing with his hips when he fucks. It looks like magic or something.” Erica smiles at him. “You’re going to want to check out his videos after you’re done with him today, guaranteed.”

            “What’s his name, anyway?” Derek asks, tugging the shirt on.

            “He refuses for anyone except Peter to know. But he goes by Matt. Matt Daehler.” Erica snorts. “Do you remember that awful kid in high school? He had that name.”

            Derek shrugs. He doesn’t remember anyone from high school. “Is it him?”

            “Oh no, this guy is much prettier.” Erica stands up. She looks at his face carefully. “You’re not sleeping well, are you? Sit. I have to put some make-up on. Don’t whine. You never see it on the camera.”

            “Fine,” he says, sitting down. She touches up underneath his eyes. “I’m glad I don’t have to work with Jackson anymore.”

            “He was boring,” Erica assures him. “You were much better with Danny.”

            “He requested not to work with me too,” Derek reminds her, with a frown.

            “Yes, but that was because he wanted to be friends with you,” Erica says, smiling. “He didn’t want work to mess that up.”

            “So he says.”

            “It’s true. There, you look beautiful again,” Erica tells him. He raises an eyebrow and she pokes it down with her finger. “Perfect. Want to meet your partner?”

            “Sure,” Derek says. He glances down at his bag, where the script is.

            Erica knows him well enough to know what he’s thinking. “You studied the shit out of that script. C’mon, you’ll be fine.”

            “New people aren’t always great,” Derek mumbles as he follows her out of the room. She just snorts. It’s true though. While he’s grateful for someone new, sometimes working with new people sucked. Derek wonders why Peter had called for a screen test. He usually does that, especially since not everyone enjoys working with Derek because he doesn’t always socialize after fucking.

            She hooks her arm in his and steers him to Jackson’s old room. She knocks. “Matt?”

            “Who?” comes a response. Then there’s a muffled laugh and the words, “I mean, yeah! Come in.”

            Erica pushes the door open. “I thought you’d want to meet your partner today.”

            “That’s great,” the voice comes. Derek steps into the room and freezes.

            Erica hadn’t been joking. The guy must be a few years younger than Derek, but he’s gorgeous. He has moles everywhere, and Derek knows that he wants to kiss every single one of them. He’ll follow the script. He will. But dammit. Erica had been the one to suggest this kid—he’s sure of it, because Matt is his type.

            He’s not complaining.

            “Hello!” Matt says, stumbling to get up. Erica had already dressed him in a pair of casual sweats and a loose red shirt. Derek is not going to get hard right now. He’s a professional, dammit. He’d been doing this for three years for fuck’s sake. “I’m St…Matt. I’m Matt Daehler. Remember the name, pass it around.”

            It must be a catch phrase. There’s a smile that promises it’s an inside joke. Derek shakes Matt’s hand. “I’m Derek. Hale. On screen, you can call me—”

            “Daniel. Don’t worry, I know.” Matt gives him a big grin. His phone starts ringing somewhere in the room, so his arms go flying as he spins around to look for it. He almost stumbles over his own feet. He picks it up off the chair he’d been sitting on. “Excuse me. Hello? Dude, I can’t talk right now. No, I—whoa, really? I didn’t know that. That’s awesome! But I should…ha, no. No one’s getting pregnant today. Thought I’d mix it up. Whatever, man. Tell the girlfriend I say hi. Love you too, bye!”

            It’s the shortest conversation Derek’s ever heard someone have. He’s positive whomever Matt had been talking to they’d been talking over each other. Derek only focuses on one particular thing though.”

            “You do heterosexual porn too?” Derek blurts before he can stop himself.

            Matt just shrugs. “Yeah, I’m bisexual. Gotta spread the love.”

            Erica snorts. “Whatever, Matt. Let’s get you two out. The sooner we can get started, the sooner I can go have normal sex with my boyfriend.”

            “Sounds boring,” Derek quips.

            She just shoves him, but she’s laughing as she strides ahead of him. Derek gives Matt a shy smile. He’s in character; he’s not actually shy. But when Matt wiggles his eyebrows, Derek finds himself looking away to smile.

            “Daniel, Matt,” Chris Argent says with a short nod when they get into the bedroom that they’ll be working in. Derek hates when Chris calls him by his stage name, but the man does it to bug him, so he tries not to let it show.

            “Yo, how are you today?” Matt says, obviously relaxed around Chris.

            “Fine, Matt. How are you?”

            “I’m doing alright. I heard about Allison getting on the honour roll—that’s awesome, man!”

            Chris beams at the compliment about his daughter. Derek doesn’t know Allison all that well, but whenever he’d met her, she was pleasant. “Yes she did. Thanks. You excited to work with the elusive Hale?”

            Matt rolls his eyes. “That implies that this wasn’t inevitable from the start.”

            That’s interesting. Derek tilts his head at that comment. Erica distracts him though. She starts fiddling with his hair, and keeps her voice low when she says, “You’re going to have a fun shift today, I promise.”

            “Sure,” Derek responds.

            “Alright, get into places boys,” Chris says.

            Derek straightens his shoulders, and then realizes his character wouldn’t be tense. He lets himself relax. Boyd finishes setting the laptop up for them, and gives Derek a nod. “Try not to be too messy today, boys.”

            “Sure,” Matt says, rolling his eyes.

            Boyd hands them both beer bottles, which Derek already knows will be filled with water. One of the downfalls of working on screen. He glances at Matt who walks over to the bed, and lets himself fall freely on it, bouncing slightly. He smirks at Derek, who walks tensely over. He’s trying to relax, but his heart is beating fast and he’s nervous. It’s the strangest thing.

            Derek Hale is prepared for anything, except this. He glances to see that Chris has already started filming. He likes ‘his boys’ to jump right in. He claims it makes them feel more relaxed or something. There’s less pressure without someone calling ‘action’.

            “Dude, tonight was crazy,” Matt says, leaning against the headboard. Derek shuffles onto the bed and nods.

            What’s his line again? Oh, right. “It was. We should do something else. I’m bored now.”

            Matt snorts. Why doesn’t Derek find that unattractive? “What are we supposed to do? Our girlfriends left for the evening…it’s not like we can entertain ourselves with sex.”

            Derek knows his line, but he just watches Matt for an extra beat. “We could always watch porn or something.”

            His co-worker—Derek should think of him that way, instead of watching the way his lips move—just pretends to think it over. Then his face lights up. “Oh have you seen that one video—some dude’s girlfriend is having sex with her two best girlfriends and then he comes home, and they all join in? It’s hot.”

            “I haven’t,” Derek says. It doesn’t come out as loud as his should. He watches as Matt scrambles forward to fake-find the video that had already been setup by Boyd. Derek’s eyes find their way to Matt’s ass.

            Matt sets his beer down beside the bed.

            How had Erica not mentioned Matt’s ass? It seems unlike her. He’s admiring it when Matt pats the bed beside him. Oh right, Derek and Matt are supposed to be lying beside each other for this scene. He drops his beer over the edge of the bed, vaguely realizing he couldn’t care less that someone would have to clean it up later. Matt’s eyebrows go up in surprise. Derek stretches out beside Matt.

            He had never been into lesbian or heterosexual porn, and watching gay porn had become a little boring once you knew how it worked behind the scenes. But Derek finds the way Matt watches porn to be intensely interesting.

            His face shows that he’s clearly enjoying himself. His lips part slightly, and Derek feels his dick jerking away. Wow.

            He’d never gotten a hard-on while filming before it was scripted to get a hard-on. Derek watches Matt though, admiring the video with appreciation. Then the movement catches his eyes. Matt’s already casually stuck his hand into his sweatpants. Derek tries to recall what his character’s supposed to do next, but he can’t think of it. He just watches Matt touching himself, watching him watch the screen. His eyes can’t seem to tear away from the view.

            Matt gives him a cautious look, and Derek catches the way his eyes narrow as if to say dude, it’s your turn. Derek inhales a little too sharply and then the words, “I can…I can help you with that, if you want,” come tumbling out.

            Matt’s eyebrows shoot up again. To the viewer, it would seem as though his character is surprised. To Derek, he knows that Matt is probably surprised because Derek had just said fuck the script to everyone there. That hadn’t been his line whatsoever. Matt glances down at where his hand continues to move on his dick, and then back at Derek. A smile reaches his face. “We’re not…”

            “I know,” Derek says softly. He tilts his head at Matt. “It just seems a little unfair, when a perfectly decent mouth is right here.”

            It’s okay to go off-script sometimes. But Derek had just thrown it out the top-floor window. Matt doesn’t seem to mind though, not anymore. “That’s…that’s very logical of you.”

            “I’ve been known to be logical from time to time,” Derek murmurs. He’s supposed to pull Matt’s sweats off and start giving a nice blowjob. But when he moves closer to Matt, he catches his scent, sees the way Matt’s lips curve upwards in anticipation out of the corner of his eye.

            Then he’s crushing his mouth against Matt’s. Fuck the script, just fuck it all to hell. Derek finds the way that Matt meets him with the same beat of urgency, the same need, very fucking hot. He wants more. One of the unwritten rules of porn is no tongue unless the script calls for it. Well, it’s too late to go back now.

            And Matt seems to appreciate Derek’s tongue very much. The sounds he makes, the low rumble of amusement, and the small whine of need, almost put Derek over the edge. He brings a hand up, cupping the back of Matt’s neck, and deepening the kiss.

            Matt tugs on Derek’s bottom lip and he moans. Derek doesn’t moan unless it’s been scripted. That’s just how it goes after three years in the industry. But he moans and then he feels Matt’s hands tugging at his shirt. He shifts, taking his lips away, just so that Matt can yank the shirt over his head.

            Derek can’t hear anything anymore. Usually he notices the whirling of the camera, the scraping noise it sometimes makes as it moves angles, or some people whispering. Derek wonders if he’s gone deaf, and then he hears the way Matt moans in appreciation for his chest and he knows his hearing is perfectly fine.

            Matt pushes on Derek’s shoulder, so Derek pulls him closer. Matt leans down and his mouth. Holy god, what is his mouth doing? It’s so…it’s so good. This is what sex should always be like. This is…Derek can’t think. Why can’t he think?

            Oh right, Matt’s mouth is doing wonderful, wonderful things to his body. Derek’s lips feel a little bruised, but in the best way possible, as Matt tears his away. He starts kissing down Derek’s neck, and around his collarbone. When Derek realizes that Matt’s giving him a hickey, he almost pushes him away. It’s part of his contract to never receive hickeys. Then Matt’s hands cup his crotch and Derek doesn’t care what he does.

            He could be covered in little round bruises for the next year if Matt would just keep rubbing him there.

            It occurs to Derek that he should be the one blowing Matt, but apparently, Matt has other ideas.

            He arches his hips up, wanting Matt to have a harder grip. Matt just chuckles and rubs his hand too lightly over Derek’s cock and balls. The material of his sweatpants help with some friction, but it’s not enough. He needs more. He wants it now.

            Then Matt’s tongue is circling around his bellybutton. Since when has that been a turn-on? Since now. Since now. Oh god. Derek arches up a little more. Matt chuckles again. And then he’s not touching Derek.

            His eyes flash open, but he’s relieved when he sees Matt leaning down to kiss him again. Derek shifts on the bed. He starts to tug at Matt’s shirt. “Must.”

            “Hm?” Matt says against his lips.

            “Off,” Derek grunts. He starts pulling it off, and throws it somewhere around the room. It’s forgotten before it hits the floor. “Matt.”

            “Stiles,” Matt whispers, as he starts trailing kisses down Derek’s chest again. “Call me Stiles.”

            That’s…weird…Derek…doesn’t care. Matt’s hands are back to rubbing his junk and Derek’s pretty positive he’s died and gone to heaven. He suddenly understands the meaning of that. He also has an epiphany about the meaning of needing something more than breathing. If he could feel like this forever, he would gladly give up oxygen.

            Matt’s hands move away from his dick, and Derek frowns in disappointment. Then Matt’s hands are tugging his sweatpants down. He arches to make it easier, and holds his breath until Matt’s lips brush against his V.

            This is the longest anyone’s ever gone without actually fucking, Derek decides.

            He moans. “Need. More. Now.”

            “Soon,” Matt says, chuckling. His hot breath dances over Derek’s skin. Now.

            He doesn’t know how to voice his need anymore, because Matt runs his fingers up Derek’s inner thigh. He jumps at the pleasure, and hears Matt chuckling again.

            “Do you like this?” Matt asks quietly. His voice is barely there. Derek registers that the cameras probably won’t pick it up and the thought pleases him. Matt runs his fingers up the other inner thigh, and Derek clamps his legs shut tight. It’s not on purpose, it’s because his skin is tingling everywhere. God, he vaguely remembers once when Jackson had hung out with him high and said he felt fuzzy.

            Derek’s not just fuzzy. He’s on fire. Matt just laughs again. “Do you want more?”

            “Please,” Derek whispers. The cameras won’t pick up that desperation either. He knows it. The microphones are crap.

            Matt parts Derek’s legs, and then straddles his left thigh. His fingers dance around Derek’s cock, touching him lightly here and there. Derek keeps arching and jerking while he does.

            His hands have been digging into the bed for fuck knows how long, and Derek is close to begging.

            “Alright,” Matt murmurs. And then Derek feels it. He feels Matt’s hot breath on his cock before he feels his fucking mouth.

            Erica is right, Derek thinks in a new world. Erica’s right. His mouth is amazing. The things…Derek cannot comprehend anything except that he needs more now. He keeps jerking up into Matt’s mouth, and he can’t stop. Matt doesn’t seem to mind whatsoever, and doesn’t seem to lose focus.

            “More. Matt. Please.”

            Matt tears away from the world’s best blowjob to quickly lean forward. He steals a kiss from Derek, which should be a little gross but Derek’s never been more turned on—something he realizes he keeps thinking every second that he’s getting more turned on. Matt brushes his cheek against Derek’s and whispers, “Stiles. My name’s Stiles.”

            Derek nods, understanding. Then Matt—Stiles—goes back down. His lips are wet and his mouth is heaven. It’s heaven. Derek jerks upwards, and realizes he’s panting. Wow. Okay. He’s never panted from a blowjob before.

            “Stiles,” Derek whines. “Stop, or else I’m going to…I’m going to…”

            “Maybe,” Stiles says after sucking hard on Derek’s tip. “I want you to.”

            “Fuck. You.”

            Stiles laughs, but he understands that Derek wants to fuck. Derek watches in confusion as Stiles lifts Derek’s legs to go over his shoulder. And then it hits him. They’re going to fuck.

            Somewhere in the back of his head, he recognizes that he was supposed to give Matt—Stiles, dammit—a blowjob. He was supposed to be doing the fucking. Stiles freezes. “Shit, condom.”

            Derek watches in surprise as Stiles moves away, so his legs fall back down on the bed, and Stiles is crawling around the bed looking for a condom. It catches him off guard, so Derek starts to laugh.

            “Shut up,” Stiles says, but he’s grinning. “Do you want me to fuck you properly, or not?”

            “Oh, I do,” Derek murmurs. He wiggles his eyebrows as Stiles had earlier, which only makes Stiles laugh again. It’s a good feeling, laughing with Stiles. Derek realizes that they had just met and that they were in the middle of filming porn, but he loves the sound too much to give a shit. “Find it yet?”

            “Fuck you,” Stiles says, shaking his head.

            “I was hoping you would,” Derek remarks.

            It earns him another surprised look from Stiles before he starts laughing all over again. Yeah, Derek could get used to that sound. Stiles finds the condom and lube, and holds it in the air. “A-ha!”

            “Hurry up,” Derek begs. “I need you to…”

            “I know,” he says, as he rips the condom package. He rolls it on. “I know. God, I need this…”

            “Yeah,” Derek urges. “C’mon on. Get to it.”

            “You’re bossy, huh Derek?” Stiles says, smirking. Somewhere in the middle of all this, probably around the time Stiles told him his real name, they had bonded. At least, Derek sure as hell hopes so. He nods urgently. Stiles laughs as he pulls Derek’s legs up over his shoulder again. “Well, I gotta do what the boss tells me to do.”

            “Yeah, yeah you do,” Derek says. “I pay you the big bucks.”

            “No, you pay me the good fucks,” Stiles corrects. There’s a moment of slight hesitation. “Should I have…?”

            “Just lube. Just…I’m ready. I’m so fucking ready, Stiles.” Derek shifts his ass down a little. Lydia in editing is going to hand his ass to him when she realizes how much talking—how much Derek whimpers Stiles’ name—that she’ll have to edit out. Stiles bites his bottom lip, which almost makes Derek come from the sight, before Stiles is lubing him up. A few seconds later, he enters him slowly.

            Derek had been right. He’d been ready. He jerks a little, his fingers digging harder into the bed. He’d never been that type, but he is now. Stiles lets out a small moan as he pushes further into Derek.

            “More, now,” Derek hisses.

            Stiles is smirking but Derek doesn’t care. He needs it. As Stiles starts rocking his hips, Derek thinks that Stiles should do this professionally. The thought is a lazy one, lost in a haze, before Derek realizes that Stiles does do this professionally. And so does he for that matter. It doesn’t feel like it though. It feels as though this is his first time—as if no one before Stiles exists anymore.

            “Holy, fuck Derek,” Stiles moans.

            It brings Derek’s entire body to life—as if it hadn’t already been alive. He reaches down to touch his cock, and Stiles slaps his hand away. He smirks. “No, today you’re going to get off without anyone touching your cock. You hear me?”

            “I hear…” Derek moans and anything else he could have possibly said fades away.

            Their movements seem to match perfectly with one another. When Stiles wants more, he picks up the pace, and it’s always just when Derek needs more too. He can feel his body shaking, the way Stiles’ fingers tremble a little on Derek’s hip. He’s too aware of the sound of Stiles’ panting, too turned on to ever want to stop.

            It doesn’t matter though. He can’t hold on any longer, and before he can warn Stiles, he’s coming.

            His jizz is landing all over his chest, on the sheets beside him, on his arms. Stiles keeps going, just a few more seconds, and when Derek’s spent, he can feel that Stiles is shuddering with his own orgasm.

            Derek jerks his body one last time. Stiles gasps in surprise, before he moans loudly. He’s shaking, as he collapses against Derek’s legs. Then Derek realizes they’re both shaking. He looks down at Stiles, and gives him a small laugh. “Holy shit.”

            “Yeah. Yeah,” Stiles murmurs. He pulls out slowly. It makes Derek’s cock twitch to life again. Stiles laughs. “It might take me a few minutes there, big guy. We can’t all be built like a god.”

            “A god?” Derek says, shaking his head. “You’re nuts. Come here. Let me take care of you this time. I’m a man of my word.”

            Stiles snorts. But he takes the condom off his dick and tosses it somewhere off the bed. They’re going to pay for that, Derek knows it. He doesn’t give a shit though. He sits up, pulling Stiles in close to him, and presses his lips against his.

            He tugs on Stiles’ bottom lip this time, and runs his tongue around Stiles’ mouth. He finds his heart pounding, as though he’s on an adrenaline rush. He never wants to come down. His hand reaches for Stiles’ cock. It’s not soft. He doesn’t know what Stiles was talking about.

            “This is,” Stiles whispers while he kisses Derek’s jaw, “incredible.”

            Stiles’ lips press against the skin below his ear.

            Derek whispers back, “More, I need more already.”

            Stiles chuckles. His hot breath makes Derek’s single tingle once more. Derek’s fingers wrap around Stiles’ cock, and there are no games. He starts stroking, slowly building it up. Stiles moans against Derek’s ear.

            It’s an intimate move, but Derek kisses the crook of Stiles’ neck, kisses his collarbone, and wishes to the universe that he could do this for the rest of his life.

            He’s fucked many people. Sex isn’t a big deal to him. He can get behind the mechanics of it. But this, this isn’t something Derek’s ever experienced before. He kisses the tip of Stiles’ shoulder just before Stiles arches against him.

            Stiles’ hands try to grip a part of Derek’s body, to hold himself up, as Derek’s hand picks up the pace. “Derek, oh my fucking god. I’m not going to make…oh god.”

            Derek takes his free hand and carefully pushes Stiles backwards, just so he has enough room to get his lips on Stiles’ dick. If he’s about to blow, Derek wants to taste him. He wants to enjoy it while it lasts.

            Stiles lasts maybe thirty seconds more, before he jerks hard into Derek’s mouth, and clutches onto Derek’s shoulder. He tastes good. Actually, he tastes fucking great. Derek remembers that he had put it into his contract to never swallow a blowjob—he’d never wanted to before. He’s going to have to make some adjustments. He licks the tip of Stiles’ seriously sensitive cock, and then sits up to lick his lips.

            Stiles mouth comes crashing onto his.

            “Cut!” a voice comes.

            Stiles pulls away from Derek, his eyes big with wonder. Derek gives him a lazy grin, and runs his hand through Stiles’ hair.

            “Guys, I don’t know what the hell you were thinking—going so far off script,” Chris is saying, walking over to them. They don’t move though, huddled together in an intimate manner. “—but that was incredible. Peter is going to enjoy this, because you guys are going to make us money. Now, clean up and be out of the studio in fifteen minutes. We have another video to shoot today.”

            Derek’s hand falls off Stiles’ shoulder, and he starts to pull away. However, Stiles steals a quick kiss and makes Derek freeze.

            Then Stiles is scrambling off the bed, and pulling a pair of sweatpants back on. Derek recognizes them as his.

            Stiles is gone four seconds later. He looks at Boyd, who’s come to pick up the laptop that had been pushed off the bed at some point. “What…happened?”

            “I don’t know dude, but I can tell you that Erica and I are going to have fun tonight,” Boyd says, with one side of his mouth curved upward.

            “Holy shit, Derek!” is the first thing Erica says as she scrambles over to the bed. “I have no idea what that was except hot. Please tell me you’re going to get his number.”

            “I’m getting his number,” Derek says. He launches into action, by pulling Stiles’ slightly-too-small sweatpants on. They do the trick. Erica tosses his black shirt at him and gives him a laugh and a thumbs-up. He doesn’t put the shirt on, but uses it to wipe up his own jizz on his chest. Stiles should’ve licked it off. Although, Derek’s not sure he could’ve handled it.

            He strides over to Stiles’ room and knocks on the door. He hears a muffled voice, so he pushes the door open, only to see that Stiles is on his cell phone with his back to the door.

            “No, dude, oh my god, you don’t get it. I know I’m being paid to fuck him. But I don’t give a shit about the money. I want to do that again. Like now. I want to do that again now. Fuck Chris for calling cut. I could’ve done that all day,” Stiles is saying.

            Derek smirks, feeling a little pleased. He has to admit though, Stiles had taken charge and that didn’t happen too often in the bedroom with Derek. He loved it. He knocks on the door again.

            Stiles spins around as he’s saying, “Dude, you—whoa, hi there.”

            “Hi,” Derek says.

            “I gotta go, man,” Stiles murmurs to whomever’s on the other line. He lets his cell phone drop to the floor, and Derek’s not even sure he had hung up. “Hi.”

            “You said that already,” Derek points out.

            “Well, I just…are you here to yell at me or something?” Stiles asks, flustered. “All I’ve heard is about how professional you are, and how you take the script seriously. I actually studied for this, and memorized all my parts. I didn’t want to mess up in front of you, because you’re pretty famous around the lower porn stars, you know.”

            Derek can’t stop smiling. He’s too amused.

            “Danny said that you growled a couple of times that he went off-script, so I made sure that I knew everything. But then…I don’t know I felt as though…” Stiles trails off this time.

            Derek closes the space between them. He says, “I am always prepared. I always study the scripts. I don’t even know what my first line was supposed to be today. I wasn’t prepared for you…”

            “Oh,” Stiles says.

            Derek presses his lips lightly against Stiles’s. “I hope you don’t mind, but I don’t want to be on any script tonight.”

            “Me neither,” Stiles responds, his expression bright. “No script. Your place or mine?”

            “I don’t care,” Derek says. “Do you?”

            “No, but can we get food first?”

            Derek laughs. “Are you a traditional boy?”

            “No, just a hungry one. This sex god made me work up an appetite.”

            “What an asshole,” Derek deadpans. He leans his forehead against Stiles’. “I need you to be well-fed then, because we want you to be prepared for when I fuck you.”

            Stiles kisses him eagerly. Derek pulls away. “What?”

            “Who’s Matt Daehler?” Derek asks, curious.

            Stiles laughs. “He’s this asshole I went to high school with. Now whenever someone Googles him, porn will pop up. He’ll never get another job. It’s my personal revenge.”

            Derek laughs into his next kiss.

 

 

            “I’m only working with Stiles,” Derek tells his uncle when he pushes his way into the office.

             “It’s funny you say that. I wrote up contracts for you and Stilinski. I don’t want you two working with anyone else from now on.” Peter holds up two stacks of paper, and grins. “I told Stiles when he started that it wouldn’t take long for him to get to the top to be with you.”

            “I’ve heard,” Derek says. “I’ve watched his previous stuff. He should’ve been with me immediately.”

            “You still had a contract with Jackson. Why do you think I was okay when Jackson wanted out?” Peter hums. “I knew your asses would look good together.”

            “Gross,” Derek mumbles.

            Peter smiles. “Derek, your tuition has been officially paid for, and you can quit the business after next year. I think it’s a good deal.”

            Derek smiles. It’s the first time he’s smiled at his uncle since he started working here. He has a pretty damn good reason though.

 

♚♞♚♞♚♞

 

            “I’m so ready to be your schoolboy tomorrow,” Stiles tells Derek with a laugh when he lifts up their new script.

            “Only if you’re ready to be nothing but yourself tonight,” Derek murmurs, kissing Stiles lightly.

            “I’m all yours. But I’m prepared to let you prove it to me if you want.”

            “I want. I always want.”

            Stiles laughs as they tumble down onto the bed.