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Hurt Me (to Heal Me)

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Getting lost in his building of employment on his first day of work was a new record of pitiful for Stiles. The receptionist at the front had just pointed at the elevator quickly before going back to her phone call, so Stiles decided that he was going to find the offices he was supposed to be at by himself. He hadn’t expected the twelve story building to be a labyrinth. He wandered in and out of various offices, looking increasingly distressed.

Finally, he stepped onto the eleventh floor and nearly walked into a tall woman with dark hair pulled back in a high ponytail. She looked surprised, but she quickly regained her composure as she readjusted her coffee cup and he spewed apologies. She blinked her green eyes at him.

“You look like you’ve lost your way,” she said, giving him a smile, and he felt his face heat up. “Where are you trying to be?”

Stiles couldn’t help but wonder if he had pit stains in his crisp white shirt. It felt like that kind of day. “Offices of Derek Hale?” he asked finally, like he didn’t belong there at all, like he wasn’t supposed to start working there, oh, fifteen minutes ago.

The woman blinked at him, before she put on a smile that he couldn’t quite decipher. “You poor thing,” she said, and he blinked at her. She chuckled. “Nevermind. You’re on the right floor. Just go down that way, and you’ll run into a bombshell blonde that will get you started.” She pointed down a corridor, before hitting the up button on the elevator panel. “Don’t let Derek scare you. He doesn’t bite.” She grinned as the elevator dinged and the doors slid open, before she stepped inside. “Hard.”

Stiles stared after her, confused and a little scared because now he was imagining his new boss as some kind of Cerberus. He walked down the hall he’d been pointed towards and finally came to a secretarial desk outside an office clearly marked ‘D Hale, Esq.’ The blinds to the office were closed, so Stiles couldn’t see the man working inside.

The woman at the desk looked up from a stack of files as he approached, and now he understood why she was called a bombshell. She was gorgeous, long curly blonde hair and almond shaped brown eyes. “Can I help you?” she asked, grabbing a sticky note tab and looking back down at her work.

“Uh, yeah, I’m Stiles,” he tried. “Stiles Stilinski?”

“Oh!” the woman said, before she stood up and reached across the desk with her hand, her cleavage deepening. “You’re the new assistant. I’m Erica Reyes. I work for Laura Hale, Derek Hale’s sister, but I’ve been working here until someone could replace the last assistant that quit.”

“Should I be worried?” Stiles asked as he shook her hand.

Erica just smirked at him. “Mr Hale is an acquired taste, to say the least. I hope you’re not too sensitive.”

Stiles rolled his shoulders back. “No, I’ll be fine. I’ve had angry bosses before.”

That smirk on Erica’s face didn’t change as she straightened up. “Okay, well, this job is pretty straight forward. Mr Hale will tell you what he wants done. Answer the phone, get documents, do things quickly, etc.” She waved her hand in the air before stepping to the side, beckoning Stiles over, and he quickly moved to her side. “You just need to go through these files and mark all the witness testimonies. Mr Hale wants to go through them right away.” With that, she grabbed her purse from under the desk and her jacket from off the back of the chair.

“You’re leaving already?” Stiles asked, sitting down and giving her wide eyes.

“Got to get back to Ms Hale’s office. I’m sure the work is all piled up there.” She pulled on a jacket and gave him a look. Then she sighed and grabbed a post-it note and a pen, jotting down a number. “This is my extension. Call me if you need any help.” She handed over the note.

He took it with a sigh of relief. “Thanks.”

“Don’t worry about Mr Hale,” Erica said, walking around to the other side of the desk. “If you do what he says, you’ll only get yelled at sometimes.” She grinned at him. “See you later, Stiles.” She sashayed off in a flurry of hair and swinging hips.

Stiles looked at the pile of work in front of him and sighed. He could do this. It wouldn’t be any different from the small law firm he’d interned at while he was in college. Everything was just… bigger. He grabbed a green sticky tab and started flipping through the papers, going through medical and police reports until he got to the testimonials. There were quite a few of them, but he managed to get through them all.

Standing with the folders in his arms, he walked over to the door of Mr Hale’s office and paused. After a second, he knocked, knowing that even if Erica would just walk right in, he and Mr Hale needed to at least introduce themselves before they had that sort of familiarity.

“Come in, Erica,” came a voice from inside.

Stiles opened the door and poked his head in, his throat closing up at what he saw. The most gorgeous man sat at a large wooden desk. He had broad shoulders in a perfectly tailored suit, upswept black hair and black rimmed glasses. When he looked up from what he was writing, Stiles could see bright hazel eyes that pinned him in place.

“You’re not Erica,” Mr Hale said, his pen still poised over a paper in front of him.

Stiles snapped out of his reverie. “No, I’m Stiles--Stiles Stilinski. I’m your new assistant.”

Mr Hale gazed at him, looking blandly unimpressed, before he dropped his eyes back to what he was doing. “Do you have the testimonies?” he asked, writing quickly as he spoke.

“Uh, yeah--yes, sir,” Stiles said, walking quickly over to Mr Hale’s desk and offering the folders to him.

Mr Hale looked at them, before he nodded to an empty spot on the corner of his desk, so Stiles placed them there and stepped back. His boss continuing his writing for a few long moments before he noticed that Stiles hadn’t left and looked up. “Is there something else?”

“Um, don’t you want to know anything about me? You know, since I’m working for you now?” Stiles asked, wringing his hands behind his back.

Mr Hale didn’t look impressed. “Can you do your job efficiently?”

Stiles swallowed. “Yes, sir. I worked for one of the partners at Beacon--”

“That’s all I need to know,” Mr Hale said, making a dismissive wave. “I’ll page you if I need you.”

“Oh, okay, sure,” Stiles said, taking a couple steps back before turning around and hurrying out of the door back to his own desk. He sat down and sighed, already imagining that his life was going to turn into Devil Wears Prada.


When Stiles got his first paycheck, a week after he’d started working, he had to stop and stare. He knew what he was going to be making, but the number hadn’t registered until he saw it on paper. What he made in a week at Hale and Associates was what he made in a month at the firm in his hometown. He wasn’t ashamed of the little dance he did when he got over the shock.

“I want to take you two out to dinner,” he said as he walked into the living room where his roommates, Scott and Kira, were playing Call of Duty on the sofa.

Scott looked over, brown eyes wide. “What? Why?”

“I just got paid,” Stiles replied with a grin. “I have some serious moolah, and I want to treat you guys. It’s purely selfish, of course, because I want to go somewhere fancy and eat expensive food, but I don’t want to go alone.”

That made Kira giggle.

“C’moooooon,” Stiles whined. “You guys can pretend it’s date night and ignore me while I stuff myself full of pasta or fondue or whatever.” He knew that Scott and Kira’s date night usually meant pizza and video games, so they deserved something more.

Scott and Kira looked at each other and did that telepathic communication that only couples could accomplish, before they went to take showers (probably together, ugh) and get ready. Stiles went to put on clothes that weren’t pajamas.

They ended up going to an expensive steakhouse, because the best way to celebrate a large deposit of cash into his bank was a giant slab of meat. He was going to eat so many rolls. They all piled out of Kira’s car and into the restaurant. It was a Thursday night, so it wasn’t as busy as it could have been, and they got a table pretty quickly.

While they were looking at the menus, Stiles was contemplating a $27 steak when Scott piped up.

“So, Stiles, does the money outweigh the headache?” he asked, eyes on his own menu.

“Well, I guess,” Stiles said, setting down his menu and leaning back in the booth. “He’s not exactly mean to me. He’s just impatient and rude. He treats everyone like that. he hasn’t yelled at me yet.” Stiles nibbled at his inner cheek a second. “But I haven’t done anything wrong yet, so…” Stiles shrugged, before he drew a deep breath in and let it out as a sigh.

“Something on your mind, Stiles?” Kira asked, voice gentle.

“He’s not a bad guy,” Stiles said, rubbing his thumb over the laminated menu. “I sat in on one of his court cases, and he’s so--so passionate about his cases and his clients. It’s crazy to see a guy that’s so closed off come to life in a courtroom.” He let out a long sigh. “You should have seen him smile when he got a ‘not guilty’. He was a whole different person.”

Scott and Kira gave him identical looks, and he felt his face heat up. “What?” he asked.

“Somebody’s crushing on their boss,” Scott teased.

“Nuh uh!” Stiles very maturely countered, before he turned his head as their server appeared. “Yes, hi, I’d like the 16oz sirloin, medium rare…”

The meal was good. Stiles was stuffed full of prime beef, mashed potatoes and about six rolls that he’d slathered with butter. He didn’t think he could move, though he was happy to place his debit card into the little slot inside the booklet that the server brought with the check.

When Stiles got home, he happily fell into a food coma.


Stiles was using his masterful highlighting skills, cap between his lips, on a stack of papers when the buzzer on his intercom went off. He hit the button. “Guh wahey bah mm,” was the garbled thing that came out of his mouth.

“What?” Mr Hale asked flatly.

Stiles spit out the cap. “Sorry, I said, ‘Go ahead, boss man.’” It had been almost two months since he’d started working for the firm. Mr Hale seemed to be getting used to his eccentricities. Mr Hale still gave him that bland, annoyed stare whenever he looked at him though.

“Are you finished with the police reports?”

“Almost, sir. I’ll bring them in once I’m done. Hey, did you know that one of the police that filed a report had--” The intercom light went off. “--And you’re not listening anymore, okay then.” Stiles let out a sigh, before he stuck the cap back in his mouth and went back to highlighting.

When he was done, he picked up the folder and walked over to Mr Hale’s door, knocking three times before opening it up and walking inside. “All done, sir,” he said, walking up to the desk and laying the folder in the empty spot on the edge. Mr Hale didn’t even look up. “Anything else I can get for you? Coffee?”

“No,” Mr Hale said shortly, not looking up from what he was doing.

“Okay, then,” Stiles said, turning and going toward the door. “I’ll just be at my desk then, waiting on your command, staring into space.” He opened the door. “Sacrificing virgins to Satan,” he added, starting through the door.

“What was that?” Mr Hale asked, sounding surprised, which was a tone Stiles hadn’t heard before.

“Nothing!” Stiles called, before he shut the door.

Once he was at his desk, he sat down and sighed. He hated having nothing to do. He was up to level 200 something on spider solitaire on his computer. He opened that up and dealt a two color game, letting that distract him for a good ten minutes until he’d beaten the level and was bored again. He went through a mental list of ways to keep himself occupied, from Facebook to Candy Crush. Nothing sounded appealing through.

Finally, he realized there was something he could do. He took his phone and Googled ‘New York BDSM clubs,’ and when the results came up he narrowed down ones that would be easiest to get to. The one that looked most promising was called The Menagerie. Its website was crisp and well formatted, detailing what it offered without being lewd. There was a picture of the building, and it was unassuming, just a grey washed building with no windows. There was a doorman to keep the minors out. The pictures of the interior were nice too, rooms with comfortable looking furniture and some staging areas. The website also listed back rooms with bed that were available, though there were no pictures.

Stiles wanted to go. It felt like forever since he’d be on the scene. He’d frequented a club back in California, but here, in New York, he was totally new. Things would be different here in a big city. The people would be different. But he wasn’t afraid. He needed to dive right in and get his hands--and maybe other places--dirty, so to speak. There was no time like the present. He was going to go that night.

Stiles was in need of someone to dom. He’d had three subs that he’d seen regularly at the old club, and he missed them. It had been hard telling them goodbye. But he would find someone else, a sub that he could have fun with. Tonight would be all about meeting people. He doubted he would find someone to do a scene with that night, but hey, he was nothing if not hopefully optimistic. He just had three more hours of work to trudge through.

“Stiles,” came Mr Hale’s voice on the intercom.

“Go ahead, sir,” Stiles chirped in response. His general attitude toward his boss was to be so sickeningly nice that the man couldn’t be too mean.

Guess he wasn’t going to play anymore spider solitaire.


It was almost nine at night when Stiles decided it was time to head out. He had put on a tight black tee and black jeans with fading at the knees. On his feet were purple high top Converse. He was almost too excited on his way over, having to keep himself in check so he didn’t speed and get a ticket.

He pulled into the parking lot on the side of The Menagerie, noting the amount of cars that were already there. The parking lot was half full, and it would probably fill up as the night went on. That meant it wouldn’t be too crowded walking in, which was good because Stiles didn’t want to walk into a wall of people. That would have made it difficult to connect with anyone.

Stiles had to fight not to skip up to the front door, excited for what lay within. He nodded to the doorman and was going to walk right in when suddenly there was an arm in his way. He stumbled a bit and looked at the doorman.

“ID,” the man said shortly, holding out his hand.

“Oh, yeah, sure,” Stiles said as he dug his wallet out of his back pocket. “I have a baby face, don’t I? That’s what I’m always told.” He tugged his driver’s license out of the slot in his wallet and handed it over to the doorman. “But, I promise I’m legal.” He was 24, for goodness sake. He just looked sixteen.

The doorman studied the ID a moment before handing it back and reaching over to open the door. “Enjoy your night.”

“Thanks,” Stiles said, stuffing the ID back in its place before stepping inside.

The first thing that hit him was the sound of soft music, string and wind instruments, so soothing that the tension that had settled between his shoulderblades released. He walked down a short corridor and met a woman sitting at a podium with a box of wristbands in front of her. She had straight brown hair pulled back in a ponytail.

She gave him a friendly smile. “Hi, you’re new here, right?” she asked, and he nodded. “I’m Caitlin.”

“Stiles,” he said, smiling back at her.

“Nice to meet you, Stiles,” she said, before she reached into the box. “Dom or sub?” she asked, picking up two bands, one red and the other blue.

“Dom,” he replied, and he didn’t miss the way her eyes widened a fraction before she schooled her features.

She held out the red band. “I would have lost that bet,” she said as he took the band. “Are you here to watch, or do you want to find a partner or two?” She held up a black band and a purple band.

Stiles was pulling on the red band, rolling it down his wrist. “I’d like to find someone.”

Caitlin handed over the purple band. “Okay, the club is divided into front rooms and back rooms. The front rooms are open to audiences and the back rooms are private.”

“Okay,” Stiles said, running his fingers under the bands. It was all pretty straightforward, which was nice. He’d been to clubs before that didn’t have set rules, and he hadn’t enjoyed them.

Caitlin watched him a moment, before her smile widened. “Well, go on, Stiles. They’re not going to come to you.”

Stiles laughed. “Right, thanks,” he said, before he headed further into the club.

The front rooms were surrounded by curtains, cutting out small spaces of semi-privacy. The first room he came across had a woman on her knees, a black length of silk tied around her head, blinding her to the goings on around her. A man, a dom by the band on his wrist, was sitting in front of her in an armchair, looking for all the world a king on a throne. He was touching her neck, her breasts, and she was leaning into every touch.

Stiles stepped away as the dom unzipped his pants and pulled the woman closer by her hair. He wasn’t looking to watch a dom getting pleasured tonight. He wanted to see something sub-centric. The next room looked more promising. There was a sub, a young man probably around Stiles’s age, tied back down on a coffee table. He was naked but for the silver cock ring that had his dick a deep angry red.

His dom, a shirtless man in tight leather pants and high motorcycle boots, was stroking the sub’s dick and speaking low to him. Stiles stepped further into the room, almost shoulder to shoulder with the other people that were watching. He wanted to know what the dom was saying.

“You gonna come for me, baby boy?” the dom was murmuring to his sub, who sobbed as his hips twitched. “Huh, you gonna come for all these people like the slut you are? Yeah, gonna come for daddy?”

Stiles turned away again as the sub whined deep in his throat. Humiliation wasn’t something he was really into, though he understood the urge. He definitely wasn’t into daddy kink, but if it gave that dom and sub pleasure, then he was happy for them. To each his own.

The next room Stiles came across made his mouth go dry. Now this was something he was into. There was a beautifully built sub bent over the arm of a couch, shirtless and pants pulled down, his bare ass in the air and his face hidden in his corded arms. All Stiles could really see were his short dark hair and the three connecting swirls of his back tattoo. And his ass, of course. It was on full display.

The dom, a tall, burly man with a chest that went on for days, was massaging the sub’s ass with both his hands, molding the supple flesh. He spread the cheeks apart, putting the previously hidden dusky hole on display, and the sub groaned into his arms. “You are so good for me,” the dom rumbled to his sub, before he gave his left ass cheek a light slap.

Stepping away, the dom picked up a broad wooden paddle, one with three holes right down the middle. He set his free hand on his sub’s lower back, brushing his thumb affectionately over his tailbone. “How many should I give you?” he asked, and the sub whined high in his throat. “How many do you deserve?” He looked up at the people surrounding them on nearly all sides. “How many do you think he should get?”

A few people offered their opinion. Five, ten, fifteen and twenty. The dom pointed to someone. “Ten. That’s a nice round number. We’ll start with that and see if he wants more.” He slid his hand off of the sub’s back and moved to a good angle as he lifted the paddle.

The sound of the smack was loud in the room where people were waiting on bated breath. The sound the sub made was gorgeous, a mix of pain and pleasure as his body rocked forward then back again. His ass turned red immediately. Stiles wanted to rub his hand across it, to feel how it flared with heat. Another strike came, and the sub’s body jolted again, his lax ass muscles rippling forward. The sub moaned into his arms, hands fisting in his hair.

The paddling kept on, and near strike six, the sub stopped jerking forward. He just gave in, his back and legs sagging and his fingers uncurling from his hair. And he took the last few strikes beautifully, in complete surrender. For a moment, Stiles thought he might have slipped into subspace, but when his dom set the paddle down and slid a hand up his back, the sub lifted his head.

Stiles froze, eyes widening. It was Mr Hale!

He watched, still in shock while the rest of the audience filtered out, as Mr Hale was pulled up onto his feet, a bit unsteady, and this dom pulled up his tight pants up over his ass. The dom smiled as Mr Hale hissed softly, before he tugged him into a hug. The dom gave Mr Hale a kiss on the cheek, before he murmured something in his ear, his eyes swiveling over to Stiles.

Mr Hale turned his head, and he and Stiles locked eyes. Stiles swallowed, his tongue like a dry, brittle piece of stone in his mouth. What was he supposed to say? ‘Fancy meeting you here?’ or ‘You have a great ass, never would have guessed?’

“Well, I need a drink,” the dom said, keeping a hand on Mr Hale’s shoulder as he started off. “You good, Derek?”

“Yes, Ennis, I’m fine,” Mr Hale said, not taking his eyes off of Stiles. He didn’t even watch Ennis walk away.

Stiles swallowed as they were left alone, flicking his eyes in various directions as he tried to think of something to say. Lamely, he eventually came up with, “So… hi?”

Mr Hale narrowed his eyes at him. “What are you doing here?” he growled in the most unfriendly way.

Stiles didn’t take well to that kind of tone. “Shopping for Christmas presents,” he spat back. “What do you think?”

Mr Hale’s glared didn’t dissipate, but his eyes did drop to Stiles’s wrist, to the band. “You’re a dom?” he asked, obviously in disbelief.

It only annoyed Stiles further. “Yeah, and you’re a sub,” he said with a sniff. “Just when I thought you were the most tight-assed person in the world. We’re both surprised.”

That made one of Mr Hale’s attractively bushy eyebrows jump up. “You barely look like you can handle a flogger,” he said, crossing his beefy arms over his chest.

Stiles tipped his chin up. “Looks can be deceiving. I could have you on your knees in two seconds flat.”

Mr Hale smiled, and it was not friendly. It was mocking. “I doubt that,” he said with a snort.

Stiles nearly bared his teeth, taking a step closer and getting in his boss’s face. “Try me,” he bit out.

Mr Hale stared at him for a long moment, assessing with those bright green and brown eyes. He took a deep breath and let it out. “Fine,” he said finally, uncrossing his arms and letting them fall to his sides.

“What?” Stiles asked, blinking.

“You said to try you out,” Mr Hale said as he stepped around Stiles. “Let’s go to a private room.”

“What?” Stiles asked again, falling further into confusion.

“Unless you can’t back up your words?” Mr Hale said, that taunting smile on his face again. He just walked off them, heading further into the club.

Oh no, he didn’t. Stiles blew out an enraged breath through his nose, before he followed Mr Hale to the back of the club where the private rooms were. He watched him pick a room and go inside, not even looking at Stiles until Stiles was in the room and had closed the door.

Stiles licked his lips. “You like to be spanked,” he said, and Mr Hale inhaled sharply. “Are you into other pain?”

“Yes,” Mr Hale replied, almost automatically.

“So I can slap you?” Stiles asked, taking a step toward him. “Scratch you? Bite you? Pull your hair?”

“Yes,” Mr Hale said in response. “But don’t leave marks where they can be seen at work.”

So nothing high up on his neck. Stiles could do that, though it was a shame because he loved leaving hickies where people would see, would know that his sub had given in to him. Banishing that thought, Stiles moved on. “Safeword?”

“Green, yellow, red.”

“Can I call you names?” Stiles took a step forward, lifting his hand but stopping right before he touched Derek’s chest.

“You can tell me I’m good,” Mr Hale said, his voice going deeper. “But if you call me a dirty little come slut, I will bite your dick.”

Threats shouldn’t make his cock twitch. “Are you saying that you want to suck me?” he asked, laying his hand over Derek’s pec.

The smile that spared across Derek’s lips was devilish. “Better get to it, Stiles. And fast.” He licked his lips, an obscene gesture. “Before I lose interest.”

Stiles swallowed. “Wait, one last thing.” He took in a sharp breath. “Can I call you Derek?”

It was a long, pregnant moment before Mr Hale answered. “Yes.”

Stiles doesn’t say anything, just slid his hand up to Derek’s neck, giving it a squeeze with his palm against his Adam’s apple. It bounced against his hand as Derek swallowed, those green eyes with their rings of brown watching him closely. He just stares back, whipping his hand around Derek’s head to grab his hair and jerk his head back.

Stiles smiled as Derek grunted, probably more in surprise than pain. His eyes tracked Stiles as he walked around to his side. “On your knees then,” he said, lifting his foot to push at the inside of one of Derek’s knees, causing him it to buckle and bring him down to his knees.

Derek steadied himself and looked up at Stiles. “That was more than two seconds.”

Stiles felt like shouting something back like ‘Did I say you could speak?’ But he wasn’t that kind of dom. He loved it when his subs talked, when they babbled about how good they felt. He wanted Derek to feel like he could say anything. So he just tightened his grip on Derek’s hair until it got a hiss out of him.

“You’ve got such a sassy mouth,” Stiles said as he stepped around so he was in front of Derek again. “It’s going to look beautiful wrapped around my dick.” That made Derek’s eyes flick down, right to Stiles’s crotch, and Stiles smiled. “Go on, open them up and pull out my dick. I know you’re craving it.”

Derek didn’t look like he wanted to give him, but his pupils expanded in lust, and that was hard to hide. He brought his hands up and undid Stiles’s belt, popping the button. As he drew down the zip, Stiles let go of Derek’s hair and reached up to grab the back of his collar and pull his shirt off. He dropped it and set his hand back in Derek’s hair, curling his fingers in the dark strands. Derek pulled his dick out of his pants and just looked at it a moment. Stiles was only half hard, but it wouldn’t take much. The way Derek licked his lips was promising.

“Give me your hand,” Stiles said, and Derek did, though he looked unsure. Stiles placed Derek’s hand on his thigh. “You won’t be able to safeword, so tap if it gets to be too much, if you need me to stop at any time.”

Derek swallowed and nodded.

Stiles tugged on Derek’s hair a little. “Tell me you understand.”

“I understand,” Derek said immediately, his hand tightening on Stiles’s thigh.

“You understand what?” Stiles asked, a harsh edge to his tone.

“I understand, sir,” Derek gasped, his eyelids drooping over eyes with pupils totally eclipsing the irises. “Please let me suck your cock.”

Well, that made Stiles’s dick twitch in approval. “Go ahead,” he said gruffly, before his mouth fell open partially as he watched Derek drag his tongue from root to tip on his dick.

Oh shit.

Derek took his time, tonguing at Stiles’s dick, tracing a vein and lapping over the slit until it oozed precome, which he gathered on his tongue greedily. Stiles was hard by the time Derek took the head of his dick in his mouth and sucked. Stiles was right. Derek’s mouth looked gorgeous stretched out like that. Stiles let him set the pace, watching as he took almost all of Stiles’s dick into his mouth each time, so that Stiles just barely nudged at his throat.

It was a beautiful thing to watch. Derek had fantastic cheekbones, so every time he hollowed out his cheeks, they looked sharp enough to cut glass. Stiles let himself get lost in it, in the wet sounds of Derek’s mouth and the movement of it all. He let out a groan, and his eyes fluttered shut. It was so good, so hot and wet, and Derek was so eager.

Derek started to moan around Stiles’s dick, and Stiles figured that he was just enjoying himself. So he looked down at him, ready to praise him, and that was when he saw Derek’s shoulder moving. He tilted a bit to the side and spotted Derek’s hand shoved down the front of his pants, working back and forth.

Gritting his teeth, Stiles shoved Derek’s head back and smacked him right across the face, causing him to let out a gasp of pain. “Did I say you could touch yourself?” he asked, his voice surprisingly calm compared to the savagery of the slap.

Derek was breathing hard, eyes on the ground. He pulled his hand out of his pants and set it on the ground.

“Look at me,” Stiles said, and Derek did, shifting his eyes up. “Color?”

“Green, sir,” Derek replied, before he swallowed and looked back at Stiles’s dick. “Please.”

“Don’t worry,” Stiles said, grabbing onto Derek’s hair again and taking his dick with his other hand. “I’ll give it to you. Open up.” Derek did, opening his mouth wide and sticking his tongue out, wanting. Stiles shifted forward, letting Derek’s tongue run along the underside of his dick until he was deep inside his mouth.

The Stiles started to fuck his face.

Stiles wasn’t gentle about it, and he knew that Derek loved it by the way he was trying to keep up, trying to move faster than the hand in his hair. It only provoked Stiles to press deeper, to push against the clutch of his throat. He pushed as deep as he could and felt Derek’s beard against his balls, his nose in his pubes, and held him there.

He could feel Derek’s throat clenching and convulsing around the head of his dick. Derek’s hand on his thigh tightened, like he was thinking about tapping out. But Derek just let himself he choked until tears welled up in his eyes and rolled from the corners. Finally Stiles drew back and out completely, and Derek gagged, sucking in a harsh breath and coughing.

“You’re such a good boy,” Stiles said, and Derek looked up at him again. “Time to give you your reward.” He tipped Derek’s head back, watching him pant open mouthed for a second, before he grabbed his dick and started stroking. It didn’t take long before he was spurting onto Derek’s upturned face with a gasping cry, long streams of white over his cheek, on his delicate eyelashes when Derek closed his eyes, and over his abused, swollen lips. Derek stuck out his tongue again like he wanted to taste.

It was a good look on Derek.

When Stiles had his breathing under control, he does his pants back up, tucking himself in. He smeared the come across Derek’s cheek with his thumb. “Heh, it’s in your beard,” he said, still coming down from the high.

Derek just gave him a flat look.

“Here, get up,” Stiles said, taking Derek by the hands and pulling him up, before he backed him toward the bed in the room. It would be more comfortable than the sofa. As they’re moving, Stiles got his hands on the front of Derek’s pants, pulling them open and shoving them down. Derek’s rock hard cock sprung out, foreskin pulling back from the angry red head. Stiles gave it a few strokes, making Derek moan, before he grabbed Derek’s arm and whirled him around, pushing him down onto the bed face first.

Derek landed with a grunt, pushing his hands against the covers and looking back at Stiles. But Stiles just grinned at him, pushing his pants down further so they’re trapped around his ankles, before he pushed Derek’s knees apart as far as they would go. Stiles got his hands on Derek’s ass and pushed the cheeks apart to reveal the furrowed ring of muscle nestled in black hair.

He just imagined himself fucking into that hole, holding Derek down and just taking him. His cock gave a valiant twitch at the idea, and he mentally told it to calm down because this wasn’t about him anymore. It was Derek’s turn to get off, and he was going to do what he could to give his sub pleasure.

He pressed his thumb against that hole, and Derek shuddered. He rubbed it in circles, pushing enough to massage instead of tease. Derek moaned, and Stiles figured he liked it. He continued to rub in circles, smiling when Derek started to push back against the sensation. He turned his hand so that he could reach under with two fingers and start massaging Derek’s taint in time with his hole.

Derek made a sharp sound, hands scrabbling on the sheets, before he folded them and hid his face in his forearms. He continued to make little noises, his thighs and butt flexing with Stiles’s ministrations. Stiles could tell he was close by the way his body was trembling. He just needed a bit more.

“Gonna come for me, beautiful?” Stiles asked, smiling as Derek whined into his arms. “Do it. come for me.” He pressed his thumb against Derek’s hole until it popped inside.

Derek came with a muffled cry, his whole body quaking with his. Stiles loved the way his hole clutched at Stiles’s thumb, over and over. It made him want to sink more fingers inside of him, to stroke him to another orgasm. He didn’t, of course, not without lube, but also because they hadn’t discussed anything like that. So he drew his hand away.

When Derek made moves like he wanted to get up, Stiles helped him, taking him by the arms and pulling him to his feet. He helped him pulled up his pants too. But when Derek pulled away, turning toward what must have been the attached bathroom, Stiles didn’t follow. Instead he crawled onto the bed and waited, fully intent on cuddling the shit out of Derek when he was done.

Derek came out after a few minutes, and Stiles held his arms out, but Derek didn’t seem inclined to fall into his embrace, so he dropped his arms. “Okay, so you’re not into aftercare snuggling, that’s cool. Is there anything I can do for you?” he asked, and Derek just shook his head. “Oh, well, we should do this again.” Stiles was all smiles. “It was fun, right?”

After a prolonged moment of staring, Derek just turned and went out the door.

Well then. He didn’t even get a kiss goodnight.

Chapter Text

Stiles wasn’t sure what he had expected to change. He came into work, whistling, with two coffees and a bag with two muffins. He was hoping that he and Derek could talk. But when he offered the treats to Derek, he was dismissed with a snappishly short "I don't eat sugar in the morning." That was fine. Stiles drank both coffees and ate both muffins. Stubbornly.

He didn’t get a chance to talk to Derek for over a week because he kept getting waved off. He was getting frustrated with his boss, because he really did want to discuss what had happened. One day he was walking back out of Derek’s office when he stopped, hand on the door knob. If Derek wasn't going to give him the opportunity to talk, then Stiles was just going to have to make time himself.

"Hey," he said, turning back toward Derek. "Can we talk?"

Derek didn’t look up from his work. “I’m busy right now, Stiles,” he said without stopping his writing hand.

“I know, but it’ll only take a minute,” Stiles implored, shutting the door so they had privacy.

Sighing through his nose in agitation, Derek set down his pen and leaned back, pulled his glasses off. “What is it?” he asked as he rubbed at his eyes.

“What we did,” Stiles started, approaching the other man. “Did you enjoy it? You left pretty quickly afterward.”

Derek’s lips ticked down a second before smoothing out again. “It was fine,” he said flatly.

Stiles had a feeling that ‘fine’ was the highest sort of praise from someone like Derek. He stopped in front of the desk, and Derek gave him a blandly unimpressed look. “Do you want to get together again?” he asked, hands fidgety until he reached out and picked up Derek’s name plaque, turning it over and over in his hands. “We could go to the club tonight or some--”

“I’m not interested,” Derek interrupted, leaning forward to take the plaque and set it back in its place.

“Oh,” Stiles said, voice softer now. “Okay.” He watched Derek put on his glasses and pick up his pen again. “That’s fine. I’ll be at the club tonight if you change your mind.”

“You shouldn’t even be talking about that here,” Derek said shortly. “It’s inappropriate.”

Stiles’s lips pulled to the side as his eyes narrowed. “It’s not like I’m running through the offices yelling ‘Derek Hale likes to get his ass beat!’” He did jazz hands for the fun of it.

There was true irritation on Derek’s face when he looked up again. “Keep your voice down.”

Stiles didn’t want to fight, especially with his boss, so he just sighed. “I’m not going to tell anyone, dude.”

“Don’t call me ‘dude.’”

Stiles threw up his hands as he turned on his heel. “Fine! I tried. I’ll find someone without a stick up his ass,” he said, not giving Derek enough time for a rebuttal before he was out the door.


Stiles had plenty of time to think about Derek and what had happened between them. The man had said he’d liked it, more or less, but he seemed willing to totally forget about it. It was a definite waste of potential, because they could have been doing it all the time. Derek was a good sub. He took direction really well, and he seemed like he was eager to please, at least while he was on his knees.

The problem was that Derek was a total asshole while he wasn’t in a scene. He was closed off and in complete control. Stiles wasn’t exactly sure how he went from that to asking to be spanked and choking on a dick. Derek was totally confusing. There was some way to talk to Derek, to get at what he desired, but Stiles hadn’t figured it out yet.

At lunch that day, Stiles got his food at the firm’s cafe and was going to head outside to eat in the park like he did everyday, but then he spotted someone that could probably help explain the enigma that was Derek Hale. He walked up to Erica’s table and set his food down, sitting in the chair opposite hers.

Erica looked up from her phone and blinked at him. “Something I can help you with?”

Stiles let out a loud sigh. “How do you talk to D--to Mr Hale without punching him?”

If Erica caught the slip, she didn’t show it, but she did smile at him. “It’s difficult. He’s a dick.”

That made Stiles let out a bark of surprised laugher. “Tell me about it.”

Erica put her phone on the table and folded her arms over her lap. “He’s just not a nice guy. I’m pretty sure that he doesn’t like his job.”

Stiles paused as he was unwrapping his sandwich. “But he’s so good at it.”

Erica shrugged. “I think he’d rather be doing something else. But it’s the family business, y’know?”

That made Stiles scoff. “Doesn’t give him the right to take it out on us.”

She gave an elegant shrug. “It doesn’t, but it explains it.”

He just sighed in response. “I guess,” he said, before he took a bite of his sandwich.


This was why Stiles didn’t go shopping by himself. He stood next to a display of buttondown shirts of all different colors and prints and sighed. He wanted to wear something nice to the club that night, and his black tee shirt and black jeans were dirty still, because he was awful at doing the laundry but for every three weeks when he had nothing to wear left.

He couldn’t very well wear plaid to a BDSM club either.

“This one brings out your eyes,” came a voice, and Stiles looked up to find a beautiful redheaded woman holding up a deep golden brown shirt.

He reached over and took it, turning it in his hands. “Uh, thanks,” he said, looking back at her.

She smiled and picked up a deep red shirt, offering it too. “Or this one. Both are good.” After Stiles took it, her smile widened. “Dressing up for something special?”

Stiles looked between the shirts, trying to figure out which one he wanted more. Maybe he could buy them both. “Uh, yeah, a club,” he responded, leaning towards the red even though he liked the gold to. Fuck it, he was getting them both.

“If you going dancing, you may want something lighter, something with short sleeves,” she said, glancing at the other shirt displays like she was looking for alternatives.

Stiles came right out and said, “It’s not a dance club. It’s a BDSM club.” He wasn’t at all ashamed.

The woman blinked at him, and after a moment she asked, “The Menagerie?”

“You know it?” He figured it was the most popular club in the area. It certainly had the best reviews, since it was the cleanest and offered the safest place to play.

She smiled at him, sly this time. “I’m the manager.”

“Oh.” Well that explained it. He all of the sudden wanted to hug her and praise her management skills, because he loved the club.

She head out her hand to him, silver bracelets clinking together. “Lydia Martin.”

He took her hand with its perfect manicure and shook. “Stiles Stilinski.”

“Is ‘Stiles’ a nom de plume?” she asked, smiling with teeth now.

Laughter bubbled out of Stiles’s mouth. “Easier to pronounce than ‘Sobiesław.’” Polish wasn’t a language that a lot of people knew in the US, and he’d stopped trying to correct people when he was ten. Nicknames were easier.

Now Lydia was full on grinning. “I haven’t seen you around the club before.”

“I haven’t been in the city long,” he admitted as he walked around the table of shirts so it wasn’t separating them anymore. “I’ve only gone once.”

“Let me get you a drink tonight,” she told him. “On the house.”

“That’d be great,” he said. “Thanks.” He was really looking forward to that night.


Stiles decided to wear the red shirt that night. It looked good with the black slacks that Lydia had also convinced him to buy. His tie was a deep purple, and he’d waffled on buying it until Lydia had told him he could stuff it in someone’s mouth or use it to tie someone’s hands.

“How’d you know I’m a dom?” he’d asked her, and she’d just given him this secretive little smile. He had a feeling that she wasn’t ever going to tell them, but her perceptiveness was what made her so good at her job.

He took a quick glance around the club once he got there, looking for a familiar grumpy face, but he couldn’t find Derek anywhere. He sighed, knowing it was probably better that way. Things between him and his boss didn’t need to get murky or anything. So he headed to the bar.

Lydia was there, talking with the bartender. She looked over and smiled, waving him over. “What’s your poison?” she asked when he was close enough.

“Rum and Coke?” Stiles said, sliding up onto a stool.

“Sure thing,” Lydia said, before she motioned to her bartender. When the drink was made, she handed it over to Stiles and hopped up on the stool next to him. “I knew you’d look good in that shirt,” she told him, crossing her arms on the bar top.

“Thanks,” Stiles replied, smiling a crooked smile. “You look great too.”

In actually, Lydia looked damned amazing. She had on a deep, emerald green bodice, laced up tight in the back. Her skirt was short and black, just kissing the tops of her stockings. Her boots were high up on her calves, and the heels were tall. Her hair was pulled into a braid around her head with wisps of red hanging down. She looked ready to kick some ass. Stiles might have been in love.

“Thanks,” Lydia purred with a smile. “So what are you looking for tonight?”

“Haven’t figured that out yet,” he sighed with a shrug, lifting and dropping his shoulders before he lifted his drink. He took a sip and hummed in pleasure.

“Don’t have your eye on someone yet?” Lydia asked, and when he didn’t respond right away, she leaned toward him curiously. “What?”

“Well, it…” He sighed, pulling his lips to one side. “I don’t really know what to say about him.” He glanced behind them, but no one was listening.

“You don’t have to tell me, Stiles,” Lydia said, reaching over and setting her hand on his arm. “Privacy is important to me, to the people here.”

Stiles took a deep breath and two big gulps of his drink, bolstering his courage. “It’s… This guy. He’s not like any kind of sub I’ve had before. He’s not disobedient, but he is defiant. He doesn’t do aftercare, and…” He sighed long and hard.

“Sounds like you need to have a strong hand to deal with him,” Lydia said, sitting up straighter. “Is he here tonight?”

“I didn’t see him, no,” Stiles sighed out, shaking his head. “It’s not just that. He…” He raised his eyes to Lydia’s green ones. “He’s my boss.”

Lydia’s eyes popped wide in surprise. “Oh, honey,” she breathed, before she set her hand on Stiles’s shoulder. “I’m sorry to say it, but that sounds like a situation you need to remove yourself from. It could get messy.”

That pulled a sigh straight from Stiles’s core. “Yeah. I doubt it’s going to go any further anyway. I tried to ask him about it, and he shut me down hard,” he grumbled as he rubbed his thumb against the glass, squeaking a little.

“Probably for the best. There’s always another road, plenty of fish in the sea, so on and so forth,” Lydia said, patting his back. “You don’t need the drama while you’re here anyway. You need to meet someone you gel with, not someone that you have to fight.”

“I know,” Stiles whined, before he turned big, sad eyes on Lydia. “But he’s so hot.”

That made Lydia laugh, and she leaned in to kiss his cheek. “Ah, sweetheart. There are plenty of hot people here. Do you want me to introduce you to anyone?”

“Nah,” Stiles said, before he downed the last of his drink. “I think I’ll just go browse for now.” He slid off his chair and caught Lydia’s hand in his, giving it a squeeze. “Thanks though.”

“Sure thing, cutie,” she replied, giving him a soft smile as he walked away.

Stiles headed back into the belly of the club, intent on watching for now. The first room he landed in already had a bit of a crowd, and it was immediately evident why. There were two women in the scene. The sub was naked and tied with her wrists to her knees, spread wide on her back on a leather ottoman. The other woman, he dom, wearing just an underbust purple corset and a black thong, was bent over her sub, petting her hair.

“Such a pretty girl,” the said in a voice only just loud enough to the audience to hear. She ran her hand down her sub’s neck and to her chest, catching a nipple and tweaking it. “You look beautiful like this, all spread out for me.” She cupped her sub’s breast, giving it a gentle squeeze, before she ran her hand over to the other. Then she slid her hand down to the shaved pussy, lips already a bit shiny.

“Are you wet for me, hm?” the dom asked, spreading those slick lips and showing the pink inside. Her fingers made a wet noise as they sank into those folds, and the sub whined softly. “Oh yes, you’re completely soaked, baby,” the dom said, withdrawing her fingers and pulling her hand up to the sub’s face. “Here, have a taste.” She offered her fingers to her sub, who opened her mouth and sucked those fingers in. “Sweet, isn’t it? Like a ripe fruit, just begging to be devoured.”

Smiling, the dom pulled her hand away from her sub’s mouth and went to cup her pussy again. She rubbed her middle and ring fingers up and down the engorged labia, before she lifted her hand and gave that pussy a smack.The sub let out a little cry, and the dom smiled at her. “You like that, huh? You want me to spank your sweet pussy?”

“Yes, mistress, please,” the sub whined, trying to spread her legs wider by grabbing at her knees and pulling.

“Your wish is my command, love,” the dom said, before she lifted her hand and brought it down on her subs folds, the slap loud in the quiet. The sub let out a harsh noise, closing her eyes and putting her head back. The dom spanked her pussy again and again, the lips getting red as wetness dripped down onto the ottoman.

Stiles adjusted his pants and turned away, heading to another room.

There he found a male sub, standing on a small dais with his arms bound behind back with broad leather cuffs. His cock stood tall and hard in front of him. He was blindfolded, panting through his parted lips as his dom, a woman in a black dress and elbow length gloves, played with his nipples. She was speaking softly to him, too soft for Stiles to hear, but she seemed to ask him a question, because he nodded emphatically.

The dome turned and picked up a small box, lifting from it a clothespin. There was a rumble of approval from the people watching, and she smiled, her eyes shining with mischief behind her glasses. She took one of the pins and caught the sub’s nipple with it, making his gasp. “Good?” she asked, and he nodded again, so she did the same to the other nipple. She set down the box and started to play with the pins on her subs chest, pushing and rolling them gently with her fingers.

When she abruptly jerked the pins off, her sub cried out and jerked, surprised. She hushed gently with loving words, rubbing her thumbs over his red and puffy nipples. He was still hard, so he must have gotten off on the pain. She noticed too, so she took him in hand and stroked, making him whimper. She leaned in and said something in his ear. Whatever it was, he liked it, because he smiled and nodded.

She took a pin in one hand and her sub’s dick in the other, holding it up so she could pin a bit of the sensitive skin at the base of his cock. She made a ladder on his dick and and a fan across his balls. It made Stiles want to grab his junk and hide, but the sub seemed to be really into it, even when she started ripping the pins off. Stiles turned and retreated then, and not without a little whimper.

There were a few more scenes going on, one with two ladies involving a double headed dildo and one with a dude getting rimmed hard, but nothing really made Stiles want to sit and stay. In one of the last rooms, there was a woman waiting there, sitting on one of the couches with bundles of red rope next to her. She was blonde with finely styled ringlets cascading down her shoulders. Her grey-green eyes flitted up as Stiles stepped into the room.

Stiles glanced down at her wrist. There was a blue band for sub and black for being already taken. When he realized he was staring, he jerked and immediately stuttered out, “Oh, shit, sorry, I didn’t mean--I’ll go.” He turned to leave.

“It’s okay,” the woman called after him, and he turned back toward her. She gave him a sad kind of smile. “I must be a sad sight, huh? Sitting here all by myself.” She sighed. “My dom stood me up.”

“I’m sorry,” Stiles said, stepping further into the room and giving her his most sympathetic face.

“It’s okay,” she said, patting the spot next to her, and he sat down at her urging. “I guess anyway. He’s never forgotten like this before.”

Stiles set his elbows on his knees and laced his fingers together loosely. “I was hoping I’d find someone here, but he’s MIA too. I guess we’re both out of luck tonight.”

The woman gave him a long look, that sad smile still on her face. “I’m Heather,” she said.

“Stiles,” he replied, offering his hand to her, and she shook it.

She caught a glimpse of his wrist then. “You’re a dom?” she asked, holding onto his hand and touching his wristbands with her free fingers.

He was content enough to let her. “Yeah. Don’t look it, do I?”

“Appearances can be deceiving, blah blah,” Heather said with a sweet giggle. “Do you know anything about intricate rope bondage and suspension?”

Stiles swallowed. Heather wasn’t one to beat around the bush, was she? Stiles found that pretty hot in a sub. “I’ve done some knotting work,” he said, licking his lips. “Honestly most of the tying I’ve done was solo experimentation, because when I get this idea in my head I have to research it to absolute death. So I practiced all the knots alone, rather than with--”

Heather smiled, her hand over Stiles’s mouth. “I want you to tie me up,” she told him very firmly. “And hang me from that.” She nodded toward a suspension ring hanging in the middle of the room, one Stiles hadn’t noticed before. “Think you can do that, Stiles?”

Stiles nodded quickly, and he smiled when she did, before he took a bundle of red silk rope from her. They both stood, and he startled to unfurl the length of rope. “So how do you want to do this, dressed or--?” He stopped and she just pulled her tank top over her head, revealing her chest. “Oh, okay,” he said, getting an eyeful, before he took the rope and looped it behind her and under her arms. “But next time,” he started, dropping his tone and leaning in. “You undress when I say. Got it?”

Heather bit her bottom lip, probably to help disguise her smile, but it didn’t work. She nodded. “Yes, sir,” she said, before she blinked and turned her head toward him. “Master?”

“Ew, no,” he said right away, and she laughed an adorable laugh. “‘Sir’ is good.”

Stiles continued to work, laying the rope against Heather’s pale skin and binding her arms together behind her back. He figured she would look so good strung up. Maybe he would run his hands along her skin when she was tied and suspended. Maybe play with her nipples even. He wasn’t sure yet, but they would figure it out.

“You’re really pretty, you know that?” Stiles said as he looped the rope around her pelvis. She didn’t say anything, so he looked up to see her staring over his shoulder. He turned and looked.

There was Derek, standing just outside the room and looking just about as indecisive as possible. He was shirtless again, and he looked just about as hot as sin, but Stiles wasn’t going to drool for him.

“Oh,” Stiles said, before he looked at Heather. “Remember I told you I wanted to meet someone here?”

“Yeah,” Heather said, still watching Derek, who stepped into the room and looked like he wanted to say something, to do something.

“Is there something you want?” Stiles asked Derek, much less friendly than he could have.

“You,” Derek said, sounding pained.

“I’m kind of busy at the moment,” Stiles replied, securing a knot over Heather’s hip.

Derek shuffled his feet. “...Please?”

Stiles gave him a long look. “Look, man, you can’t just come in and expect me to--”

“Heather?” came a new voice, and everyone looked to see a man stepping into the area, his eyes on Heather.

“Donnie!” Heather said, face breaking into a grin. “I thought you weren’t coming.” She continued to grin as he came over and embraced her.

“Sorry, babe, I hit some traffic and my phone was dead,” Donnie said, before he stepped back and gave Heather a once over. “I see you got started without me.” He didn’t seem upset. He was still smiling. “I’ll take it from here, buddy,” he said, relieving Stiles of the rest of the rope. “Thanks.”

“Oh, sure,” Stiles said, feeling like someone had taken the wind from his sails. “See you, Heather.” He started off.

“Bye, Stiles,” she said after him. “And thank you.”

Stiles gave him a vague wave before he headed out of the room, right past Derek. He didn’t have to turn around to know that Derek was following. He could feel him. Finally he whirled about, surprising Derek and making him jump.

“What makes you think you can just show up and have me wait on you hand and foot? I’m not your subordinate here,” Stiles said, putting his hands on his hips and standing tall. He was almost the same height as Derek, he noticed, maybe an inch off. He’d thought Derek was far taller than him. Maybe that was just his personality.

“You said you would be here if I changed my mind,” Derek said, his voice autonomous. But he was staring Stiles right in the eyes. Stiles had to wonder if it was a defense mechanism to go robotic when faced with confrontation.

“Yeah, I did say that, but I’d found someone else. I didn’t say I would wait here for you all night, and if Heather’s dom hadn’t shown up, I wouldn’t be having this conversation with you because I would have told you to piss off.”

Derek didn’t move, didn’t even look like he was breathing. “Do you not want to do a scene with me anymore?”

Stiles almost wanted to say no, but he looked into those hazel eyes and found them open, imploring. He sighed, all the tension going out of his shoulders. He was starting to think that Derek just didn’t know how to ask for things like a normal person. He was used to getting what he wanted right when he wanted it, and that didn’t exactly translate to being a sub. He was just… confused.

“No, I want to do a scene with you,” Stiles said, his voice calm and gentle now, and Derek bit his lip. “But we need to talk first, okay?” He reached over and took Derek’s hand, a move that seemed to surprise the man, because he just looked at their hands for a while before curling his fingers around Stiles’s.

Stiles led Derek to a private room, the same one they’d been in before, and he made sure to close and lock the door, before he turned toward Derek. “You’re weirdly quiet,” he said, and Derek just gave him a blank look. “Is everything okay?”

“Everything in fine,” Derek said, before he stepped close and crowded Stiles up against the door. “I want you to fuck me.”

Stiles blinked at the determined green eyes right in his face. “Oh,” he said, rather lamely.

After a beat, Derek’s face changed just a little, mask slipping so hurt showed, before he pulled his features back together and stepped back. “You don’t want to.”

“No, I do,” Stiles said immediately, reaching up to take Derek’s face in hand so he didn’t go too far. “I just wasn’t following that segue.”

Derek’s features softened just a touch, and he leaned his cheek against Stiles’s hand. His eyes fluttered shut, and he let out a sigh that seemed to loosen his bones.

“You sure that everything okay?” Stiles asked, putting his other arm around Derek’s middle and pressing their bodies together. Derek’s skin was so warm that Stiles could feel it through his shirt.

“Yeah,” Derek said, eyes still closed. His lashes were longer than Stiles had thought, and they looked pretty resting low. “Just a bad day at work.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” Stiles asked, rubbing his thumb along Derek’s high cheekbone. He wasn’t surprised when Derek shook his head. “Okay, well, we still have to talk. You want me to fuck you, right?”

“Yes,” Derek said, opening his eyes partway.

“How?” Stiles asked, moving around Derek and heading to the bed, pulling him along by the hand. “Do you want me to bend you over the bed and have you from behind? Or do you want to be facing me when we do it?”

Derek swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing attractively, making Stiles want to nip it. “I don’t…”

Stiles wanted to destroy whatever made Derek unsure of what he wanted, like he couldn’t just ask for it. There was something wrong there, something Stiles couldn’t see. It was something Derek kept close to his heart.

“Do you want me to decide?” he asked, and Derek nodded, looking relieved that that was an option. “Okay, no problem.” Stiles stepped back, removing his hands from Derek, giving him a look. “Take off your clothes.”

Derek didn’t even hesitate. He pulled off his boots then unzipped his painted on pants, shimmying out of him until he could kick them away. He stood proud of his body, just like he should, because it was beautiful. He had such an insane shoulder to waist ratio. He should have been a superhero. His uncut cock was fattening up, giving an interested twitch.

“Now take of my clothes,” Stiles instructed, before he held up a finger as Derek reached out to him. “Slowly. Don’t rush.”

Derek stuttered a little, like he’d been about to claw Stiles’s clothes off, but Stiles would rather his outfit be intact when he left the club that night. He watched as Derek touched his tie, running his fingers down the length of it a moment before he loosened it enough to pull it off. Then he didn’t seem to know what to do with it.

“You can leave it on the ground. I don’t care if you wrinkle my clothes,” Stiles said, licking his lips.

Derek dropped the tie, his hands moving to the first button of Stiles’s shirt, undoing each one a little too quickly, but he was obviously trying to control himself. Stiles just watched as he got his shirt open and pushed it down his arms, letting it fall. Then he dropped to his knees, which was a pretty sight, his hands going to Stiles’s shoes. He loosened the laces and pulled them off, followed by his socks. Derek ran his hands up Stiles’s legs, a feeling that made Stiles shudder, before Derek undid his pants and pushed them and his underwear down. He moved them away when Stiles stepped out of them.

That left them both naked. Derek didn’t get up off the floor immediately, instead staying on his knees and giving Stiles’s cock a long look like he wanted to swallow it down.

“Do you want to suck me?” Stiles asked, and Derek nodded, running his tongue over his lips. “Okay, go ahead, just a little though. I have plans for more.” Stiles didn’t miss the shudder that moved through Derek’s body.

The long drag of Derek’s tongue up the underside of Stiles’s cock was enough to jump start getting him hard. Derek held him in one hand as he mouthed at his dick, licking and sucking at the sensitive skin. He nuzzled at Stiles’s balls, before he sucked the head of his dick into his mouth, hollowing his cheeks.

“Ah, that’s good,” Stiles told him, and Derek moaned softly around his dick. “Just a bit more.” He was hard now, his dick deeply interested in what was going on. He let Derek bob his head a few times, slick sounds and Stiles’s soft breathing breaking up the silence. “Okay, that’s enough,” he said, taking Derek by the hair and guiding him back, not pulling hard because he didn’t need to. A line of spit connected Derek’s sinful mouth and the head of Stiles’s cock a moment before it snapped.

“I know what I want to do next,” Stiles said, and Derek rolled his bright eyes up. “I want you to ride me. Can you do that for me?”

“Yes,” Derek almost moaned.

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, sir,” Derek breathed out like blessing. “I want it. Please.”

“Of course,” Stiles said, not needing to tug very hard on Derek’s hair to pull him up. “Get on the bed.” He watched as Derek climbed onto the bed and didn’t need any direction to put himself on display, his cheek on his folded arms and his ass up, legs open to show of the hole that was normally well hidden.

It was enough to make Stiles’s mouth go dry.

After getting a hold on himself, Stiles went to the nightstand and pulled out a condom and a bottle of lube. That was another reason why he’d chosen this club. He tossed the condom on the bed before he oozed some of the thick, expensive liquid onto his fingers, rubbing them together to warm them.

“Someday I’m going to eat out your ass until you’re begging me for more,” Stiles promise as he ran a slick fingertip in a circle around the furrowed skin of Derek’s hole. Derek let out a whining sob, his dick dropping a line of precome onto the bed.

Soon stiles had two fingers inside of Derek and was twisting them this way and that and spreading them apart. Derek was moving back onto his fingers, making little noises like he was desperate for more. Stiles gave him another finger, and Derek let out a low moan that ended on a whine. Stiles just pumped his fingers in and out, watching Derek’s hole clutch at them and release.

“Do you think you’re ready to take my cock?” Stiles asked, and Derek let out the same sound, just a little higher in pitch. “Tell me, Derek. Use your words.”

Please, sir, can I have your cock?” Derek moaned, looking over his shoulder at Stiles. “I need it.”

Stiles pulled his bottom lip between his teeth, before he removed his fingers from Derek’s ass with a wet sound. He grabbed the condom off the covers as he moved to lie down, his head propped up on the pillows. “Put it on me,” he said, holding the condom out to Derek.

Derek took it, ripping it open with his teeth and spitting out the little bit of foil. He tossed the rest of the wrapper away and rolled the condom down on Stiles’s dick with ease. Then he climb onto him, his knees on either side of Stiles’s hips. He reached down and grabbed Stiles’s dick, getting into position, before he lifted his eyes to Stiles’s, waiting for permission.

“Go ahead,” Stiles breathed to him, before he moaned as Derek sank down on him in one smooth motion. “Fuck,” he bit out, his hands going to Derek’s hips as they threatened to move. “Slow, slow, okay? I want you to build up to it.” He wanted this to last.

Derek began to roll his hips in slow circles, his hands sliding up Stiles’s stomach and chest to splay on his pecs. His mouth was open, parted lips slick where he kept licking them. Stiles stared at those lips in awe, before he reached up and touched Derek’s furry cheek.

“Hey,” he said. “Kiss me.”

Derek’s hips stalled, and he leaned away from Stiles’s hand, his eyes dropping. “I don’t kiss.”

“Oh,” Stiles said, not bothering to hide his disappointment. “That’s okay. I don’t want you to do anything you’re uncomfortable with.” He swallowed as Derek looked at him again, eyes gone all guarded. “It’s cool.” He set his hand back on Derek’s hip and gave it a squeeze. “Continue.”

Derek did as told, working his hips in a way that had them both letting out little noises like ‘ah, ah’ and ‘ngh’ with the occasional ‘fuck’ every now and then. Stiles watched as Derek started to lift up and drop himself on Stiles’s dick, picking up speed and force in increments until he was slamming down on Stiles’s cock with a loud slap of skin each time.

“Ah, fuck,” Stiles moaned, and it was the highest praise, running his hands up the furred expanse of Derek’s stomach and chest. “You’re so good.” He looked at Derek’s cock where it was bobbing heavy with a near stream of precome oozing out of it. “Are you gonna come on my dick, Derek?”

Derek didn’t answer, just put his head back and continued what he was doing. Stiles couldn’t very well have that, could he? He grabbed Derek under the thighs and rolled them so Derek was on his back under him. Derek looked surprised, but he groaned hard when Stiles shoved back inside him and started to fuck him hard.

“I’ll ask you again,” Stiles said, pushing Derek’s legs open wide by the grips he had on his knees. “Are you gonna come?” This time, Derek nodded rapidly, and Stiles smiled. “Go ahead. I wanted to feel it. Come for me.”

Derek’s body jerked like he had been shocked, his dick spurting white in ropes as his ass clenched and clung to Stiles’s dick, almost like it was trying to milk him. Stiles keened, doubling over him and burying his face in his neck, filling the condom with heat as he gasped into Derek’s skin.

For a long few minutes, they remained that way, Stiles like dead weight on Derek as they panted. But eventually Derek started to shift, and Stiles lifted his head to look at him. Derek had that closed off expression on his face again, and Stiles wanted to chase it away, to bring back that openness he’d shown earlier.

Stiles sat up and took Derek’s face in his hands, and Derek gave him a confused look. “I’m going to get us cleaned up,” Stiles said. “Promise me you’re not going to run away again?” Stiles stared at him hard until he nodded, and a smile bloomed across Stiles’s face. “Okay, great, stay put.”

Stiles hurried into the attached bathroom, quickly disposing of the condom and picking up a cloth to run under the tap. He caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror. His hair was messier than usual, and there were smears of Derek’s come on his stomach. He wiped himself of it quickly, before he rinsed his pubes of the residual lube. He wet and wrung out the cloth again, before he headed back into the room and to the bed.

“I love how convenient things are in this place,” he said as he hopped onto the bed with a bounce. He started to clean up Derek’s stomach immediately, wiping his impressive abs of come. “The club I went to back in California didn’t have any of this stuff.” He dipped the cloth between Derek’s legs, wiping the lube from his puffy, abused hole. “How long have you been coming here?”

Derek didn’t answer, just stared at him like he couldn’t figure him out.

So Stiles dropped the cloth off the side of the bed and flopped down on the bed, holding his arms out. “C’mere, big guy, give us a snuggle.” That made the confusion on Derek’s face deepen, and he made no move to get closer. Stiles didn’t relent though, holding his arms out at an awkward position until his shoulder started to hurt. “You don’t really have to if you don’t want to, but I want to cuddle you to death so you know that you’re appreciated. I really do appreciate you, Derek.”

Derek continued to stare, before he bit his lips and moved closer, right into Stiles’s arms. He pressed against him and hid his face in Stiles’s neck, still tense as Stiles wrapped his arms around him and gave him a squeeze.

“I remember when I went to my first BDSM club, it was with a sub I’d met online. We both went to the same website where you could breed and fight imaginary animals like dragons--and that’s not important, anyway! When we got there, there was a guy in a full gimp mask and sensory deprivation suit, just hanging from the ceiling. We both ran away pretty fast. It was totally my fault for not doing the right amount of research. I was just too eager.”

There was a chuff from Derek against his skin, and Stiles looked down. “Did you just laugh? I made the Derek Hale laugh, holy shit. I must be doing something right. I didn’t even tell you about the time when I went to another club all by myself and was trying to get this one sub’s attention, but then I fell over a coffee table and fractured my wrist.”

Derek laughed again, chuckling into Stiles’s chest, and the tension released from between his shoulders. He actually leaned into Stiles, moving his arm to embrace him back.

Stiles found it elating. He nuzzled his cheek against Derek’s hair. “We’re going to do this again, right?”

Derek sighed into Stiles’s collarbone. “I’d like that.”

Chapter Text

It was coffee again for that morning, no muffins this time because of Derek’s absurd no sugar in the mornings policy. So Stiles got Derek a tall black coffee while his own was at least half cream and sugar. When he got to his desk, there were papers waiting to be transferred to Derek, so he grabbed those too. He knocked briefly on Derek’s door before he headed in.

“Good morning, boss man,” Stiles sang as he walked in, plopping Derek’s coffee on the the desk. “Black for you, o’ hater of sugar.” He smiled as Derek took the cup, taking the lid off and taking a breath of the steam.

“Thank you,” Derek said, and Stiles couldn’t help but stare in surprise. Derek never said ‘thank you’. Next he might even smile, and Stiles would have a heart attack.

Derek just gave him a blank look when he didn’t say anything. “Is that for me too?” he asked.

Stiles looked down at his arms, just then remembering he had a file in his hands. “Oh, yes, it’s the Michelletti file you requested from Ms Hale,” he said as he handed it over. Then he paused, looking down at the paperclipped papers left in his hands. “And I have something else for you, something from me.”

That made Derek stop flipping through papers and look up, his eyes on what was in Stiles’s hands. “Oh?” he asked. Stiles handed the packet over, and Derek gave the first couple pages a look. “What is this?” he finally asked, looking up.

“A kink survey,” Stiles replied. “I printed one out for both of us. I figured we could fill them out and compare them, that way we know what each other likes and can build scenes around them.” He licked his lips. “I’m sure you’ve filled out a bunch of these before, but--”

“No,” Derek said, still looking down at the packet. “I never have.”

“Oh.” Stiles blinked, finding that odd. He had to wonder how long Derek had been on the scene if he and a dom hadn’t ever filled out a kink survey before. Maybe Stiles was just a bit of a nut when it came to researching and organization, but he’d done this with all his subs. He’d just thought it was common practice.

"Well, I doubt you'll need to, but you can text me if you have any questions." He and Derek stared at each other a moment. "You don't have my phone number, do you?"

Derek actually looked a bit guilty, but he didn't break eye contact. "It's in your file, I'm sure."

Stiles snorted, before he pulled out his phone. "We should trade numbers." He managed not to roll his eyes as Derek looked dubious. "I promise not to spam you with memes and stuff like I do my friends."

When they traded numbers, Stiles sent a test text to Derek of a thumbs up, and then he worried a moment that because Derek didn’t like fun he might not have emojis on his phone. But Derek didn’t say anything of it as he sent his own text, a bland one that simple said ‘Test.’ Who was grammatically correct while texting? Seriously.

“Anything else?” Derek asked, looking over the tops of his reading glasses at Stiles.

“No,” Stiles said, taking a step back. “Just, uh, fill that out at your leisure, I guess. I’m already done with mine. We can compare them when you’re ready.” He took another step. “Right, back to work.” He turned and headed for the door.


Stiles hadn’t really expected Derek to text him with questions, because he was a grown ass man with the power of Google at his fingertips. So Stiles went back to his work, and when that was done he started playing around lazily on his phone. Lunch had long passed, and he had about an hour left before he could escape into freedom.

That was when his phone went off with the default tone, because he’d yet to set Derek’s number with anything yet. (He was thinking something really happy like Call Me Maybe, just because it was absurdly unlike his boss.) The message read, I’m done with the list if you’d like to compare them now.

Ooh, doing scene work on company time? Scandalous!

Stiles grabbed his own kink survey and sashayed into Derek’s office. “I’m here, boss man,” he said, giving Derek a bright smile wide enough to make his cheeks ache. “What happened to not talking about this at work because it’s inappropriate?” Derek didn’t smile back, nor did he respond, but that was to be expected, so Stiles laid his list down on the desk where Derek’s was resting, looking unassuming.

It would have been innocent if not for the fact the first thing on the list was ‘anal sex’. Which Derek was open to both giving and receiving, so that was nice. He had marked it was a big fat 5, which meant he loved it. Stiles had done the same.

Derek seemed to be into a lot of things, actually. Anal plugs, asphyxiation, blindfolding and so on. Stiles had already known that he was into biting, but he was glad to see a nice 4 next to it. He was into all the bondages too, whether it be light, heavy or worn in public under clothes.

Now Stiles was imagining wrapping Derek up like a present for later.

“You know, I’ve never caned anyone before,” Stiles said as he compared their lists. “I’m open to it, but I don’t have a cane or anything.”

“I do,” Derek said simply, his face perfectly bland.

Stiles had to stare a moment, but Derek’s face didn’t change. “Really?”

“I like to be prepared.”

Stiles had to squint at the other man. “Do you have a dungeon you’ve failed to mention?”

Derek didn’t answer but for a ghost of a smirk on his lips. Then he turned the page on the list.

“Oh my God, you do,” Stiles squeaked, feeling almost light-headed suddenly.

“Maybe,” Derek said, looking back down as their lists. “I did have one thought though.”

“Shoot,” Stiles prompted, smiling.

“We should go to my place instead of the club this time.” Derek didn’t look up from the lists.

“What?” Stiles asked, blinking. “Really?

“We’d just be getting a private room anyway,” Derek said like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“Yeah, but--are you ready to let me into your space? I’d offer up my place, but I have two roommates.” Stiles was a bit stunned by this turn of events. He’d kind of figured that Derek would just submit to him until the newness wore off, then they’d never speak of it again. But that was like taking a whole step forward in a relationship.

“It’s fine,” Derek said lightly, not looking at Stiles now. “I feel comfortable at home anyway, and isn't that an objective?”

“No, yeah, that’s totally important,” Stiles blurted out, and Derek finally looked at him. “I want you to feel comfortable, to feel safe.” He licked his lips quickly. “I mean, this is all essentially on your terms and about you.”

Derek’s brows furrowed like he wasn’t sure how to take that at first, before he dropped his gaze again. It made Stiles worry about his past experiences. That guy that had been paddling him that first night--Ennis?--he had seemed like a cool enough guy, though he hadn’t stuck around for any aftercare. Stiles wanted to ask about Derek’s past partners, if any of them had been unkind, but he didn’t want Derek to withdraw again. So he let it go for now, instead focusing on the present.

“Anyway,” Stiles went on, taking Derek’s list and clearing his throat. “We seem to like pretty much the same things,” he said, and it was a delight. “Is there anything you want to add to the list?”

“Only that I like to be given orders.”

Stiles flipped some pages. “Isn’t that on here?” he asked, before he found it.

“It is, but I want it to be a central part of our scenes. It--It helps me get out of my head.” Derek glanced away, obviously trying not to look embarrassed. Stiles had never heard him stutter before.

“I can do that,” Stiles said evenly, resisting the urge to hug the other man. He just wanted to hold him until all his worries melted away. Derek seemed like the kind of guy that bottled everything up. It explained his need to submit, to let go. Stiles wanted to be the one to help him do that, safely.

Derek checked the time on his phone, before he started to tidy his desk. “It’s five o’clock,” he said, pushing his chair back and standing up.

"Time flies when you're having fun," Stiles babbled immediately, feeling a heady rush now that he knew this was on. He got up too, picking up their lists. "So should I follow you or do you want to text me your address, and I'll come over later?"

Derek pulled his phone out of his pocket. "You can follow me, but I'll give you the address just in case." He tapped away for a moment before hitting send.

Stiles’s phone gave a cheerful little 'bleep bloop!' He grabbed it and looked at the address. "I don't recognize that zipcode. Is it in the city?"

As he was packing up his briefcase, Derek shook his head and replied, "It's in the suburbs."

"Really? I can't see you as the picket fence type. I thought you'd have a high-rise loft with steel and glass furniture." Now he was imagining Derek in a comfortable sweater, reading by a fireplace. He was bound to give himself an aneurysm.

Derek snorted, closing his briefcase and walking around the desk and heading for the door. Stiles scrambled to catch up, grabbing his keys from his desk when they passed it and following Derek to the elevator. A comfortable silence fell on them for about twenty-five seconds before the doors opened again and Laura Hale stood there.

She blinked at the two of them as she stepped in. "What's this?" she asked, eyebrow jumping.

"Nothing," they both replied, calmly for Derek and at bit spazzy for Stiles. They looked at each other.

"Yeah, nothing," Stiles went on, failing to shut up even as Derek gave him a hard look. "We're just two dudes. In the same elevator. Going to the same carport. At the same time. Nothing suspicious going on here." He tried to smile, but it was more a nervous baring of teeth.

Derek looked at him like he was reconsidering life choices.

Laura’s brow only climbed. "Mmhmmm." She stepped out once they reached her floor.

Sighing heavily, Derek rubbed at his eyes. "And now everyone will think we're fucking."

"Interpersonal relationships probably aren't allowed, are they?" Stiles asked, trying to make his face do things like apologetic and sympathetic, but he probably looked like he was having a stroke. "We could just pretend I don't completely fail. Y'know, just ignore the problem until it goes away." He pushed his hand out and to the side, like he was sweeping his disastrous conduct spoof to the side.

Derek let out a long breath through his nose. Stiles was half expecting him to call the whole thing off, but he just shook his head and said, “Ignoring it works.” The doors pinged open then, and Derek started out into the carport. “You are a complete fail though.”

“Rude!” Stiles called after him, before he hurried to catch up. He wasn’t actually upset though, and he couldn’t stop smiling.

Derek stopped next to a beautiful black Camaro, which beeped in greeting when Derek hit the button on his key chain.

“Oh, okay, now people will think I’m following you with the intent to rob you,” Stiles said with a pout. He pointed to his dinky looking blue Jeep in the corner. “That’s mine over there.”

Derek looked at it then slid his eyes back to Stiles, pressing his lips together as his eyes went a little wide. Bastard was trying to to laugh! He rubbed at his lips and coughed softly. “Are you sure that thing can make the drive? Does it shake like it’s coming apart over forty miles per hour? Does it stall at stop lights?”

With narrowed eyes, Stiles huffed at the other man. “Haha, I’ll have you know that Roscoe made the trip from California all the way here and didn’t break down a single time. He’s been with me since high school and is totally faithful.” He walked around Derek and headed toward his car. “He only sticks in reverse sometimes.”

“Your car is a he?” Derek said after him, laughter in his tone.

Stiles somehow quashed the urge to flip his boss off over his shoulder. He hopped into his Jeep, and it hiccuped to a start after he turned the key in the ignition. He patted the dash and murmured words of love to his dear car, before he backed out of the spot.

Derek was waiting for him at the carport exit, the Camaro as quiet as a kitten compared to the Jeep's chugga chugga. Stiles followed the other man out onto the road, settling in for what was probably a half hour drive, if not more.

It allowed him to collect his thoughts and come up with a plan for the night. Since Derek loved taking orders so much, Stiles had to step it up, to figure out exactly what he wanted while it still being what Derek wanted. It was a difficult place to be in, but he wouldn't back down, not when Derek was trusting him with all this, his privacy and his home. Besides, Stiles had their lists.

The scenery slowly changed from skyscrapers and businesses to row houses and parks. It changed even further as they exited the city entirely and headed into the quiet of the suburbs. Yards got bigger, spacing out between the houses. There were kids riding their bikes through the streets, unafraid of the fast cars and angry taxi drivers that had hold on the city.

The driveway they pulled onto was a long one of white gravel, leading up to a broad two-story house that looked like an estate or a manor, not a simple house. Stiles watched Derek pull into the garage, parking behind him and staring up at the house in awe. What had he gotten himself into?

"You don't have two giant dobermans that are going to eat my face because I'm not classy enough to be here, right?" Stiles asked as he got out of his Jeep and walked to the front door with Derek.

"I don't have any pets," Derek said with a smile that he managed to mostly hide, but Stiles was observant.

"I like how you avoided the question as to whether I'm classy or not," Stiles said with his own bright smile.

Derek pulled out his keys and unlocked his front door. "Are you?"

"I fart in bed, so definitely not," Stiles replied smoothly as he followed Derek inside. What he said seemed to surprise a laugh out of the other man, and that had Stiles grinning wider.

He looked around once he was inside and had to take a breath. It was beautiful, majestic, all those words that described houses that had butlers and bookcases in every room. “Are you secretly Batman?” he asked, moving across the marbled floor to touch the polished wood of the spiraling staircase bannister.

Derek let out a snort. “No. My parents just left me this house when they retired. Laura was already married and had a home, otherwise they probably would have given it to her.” He shoved his free hand, the one not holding a briefcase, into his pocket and looked around. “I don’t use most of it, only one of the six bedrooms, the kitchen and one room as a study. Everything else has sheets over the furniture.”

That… sounded kind of sad, really. “Oh,” Stiles said, searching Derek’s face, but it was placidly blank although open, like he didn’t care at all. “Well, uh…” Stiles was off course now and had to get back. “Show me that dungeon of yours. Is it in your basement? Are there spiders and pools of blood?”

Shaking his head, Derek let a smirk come onto his lips. “No, it’s in my bedroom. Let me just put away,” he said, nodding to his briefcase before he walked off.

Stiles busied himself by looking around, elated to have this insight into Derek’s life. He’d thought they’d just fuck at the club every now and then, but this was personal. His eyes landed on a wall of photos, and he walked over to get a closer look. What he found made him smile of goofy-like. The wall was covered in the happy lives of the Hales and their children. From what Stiles could gather from the progress of the pictures, Derek had not only Laura but an older brother and a little sister. If those weren’t cousins anyway. It was difficult to be sure.

What Stiles could infer was that Derek had a big family. And he was happy, smiling, bigger than Stiles thought him capable.

When Derek came back into the room, Stiles shot him a bright smile, before they both went up the stairs. Derek’s room was cozy, lived in. The bed was a kind four poster, the bedclothes unmade and charming. The nightstand had a lamp, an alarm clock, a half a glass of water on a coaster and another pair of reading glasses. There was a large window with an armchair next to it. An open door showed a walk through closet to what stiles assumed was the master bathroom. Finally there was a bookcase.

“Okay, I see a place where fun stuff happens but no fun stuff for it to happen with,” Stiles said, pointing at the bed, before he looked at Derek. “You didn’t lie about having a bunch of toys to lure me here and kill me, right? You’re not planning on making a coat out of my skin?” He gave Derek a long long. “Riiiight?”

Derek pulled his lips to the side, before he walked over to the bookcase. “I doubt that coat would fit.”

“That is not helping, Jesus Chr--Is that a hidden room!

Derek had swung the bookcase out to reveal a door behind it, smiling wider as Stiles gaped at it. Opening the door, Derek beckoned Stiles as he went in, and Stiles scrambled to follow. It was definitely a hidden room, and it was filled with the most fantastic of things. There was a set of flogs, a drawer of plugs, three different canes, etc, etc.

Stiles plucked a cockring of a hook on the wall, rubbing it with his thumb. “Okay, now I really think you’re a secret crime fighter. Kink Man, defender of the lifestyle.” He giggled at his own joke, feeling almost heady. Derek rolled his eyes, but it was fond. “Why do you hide all this stuff away?”

“I didn’t use to,” Derek said, glancing around at his collection. “But my sister brings my twin nieces over sometimes, and once they found my dildos and used them to swordfight. So I decided to have this room put in.”

How the hell did he say that with a straight face?

Stiles snorted, trying to hold it in, before he burst out into laughter, slapping his knee and everything. “Oh my God, that’s the best thing I’ve heard in weeks!” Stiles rubbed at his watery eyes. “Well, I get it. Sorta. I keep my stuff in a box under my bed. My roommate learned not to snoop when we were teenagers.”

Derek made a noise of assent, before he looked at Stiles’s hand. “Planning on using that?” he asked, meaning the cockring.

“Yeah,” Stiles said, grinning and twirling the ring in his fingers. “I want you to wear it.” He pulled his bottom lip between his teeth. “And I want to be the one to put it on you. Anything specific you want to do tonight?”

Derek shook his head, posture changing to something more open, tension unfurling from his shoulders. “No. Can you decide?”

“I can,” Stiles said, nodding and looking around the room. “Go take off your clothes and wait on the bed for me. I need to do a bit more browsing.”

“Yes, sir,” Derek breathed out in a sigh, before he went back out into the bedroom.

Stiles let out a shaky breath, taking a moment to get into character. Derek wanted him in complete control, so that was what Stiles was going to get him. He looked around the room. Did he want to give Derek a bit of pain tonight? Hm, maybe not. Just mind numbing pleasure was good too.

He ended up grabbing a pair of leather cuffs, which were worn soft on the insides upon inspection, and a thick black dildo to go with the cockring. He walked out of the hidden room, shut the door and moved the bookcase back into place.

Derek was on the bed, sitting with his legs off the side while watching Stiles. He didn’t drop his eyes as Stiles drew near, instead lifting his chin and looking at what Stiles had. Stiles smiled at him and set his bounty down on the bed.

“I want to put these on you,” Stiles said, lifting the cuffs. “Along with the cockring. Then I want to eat your ass until you’re begging for more. Then you’re going to fuck yourself with this--” He touched the dildo. “--while I watch. Okay?” He took a breath as Derek nodded. “Color?”

“Green,” Derek said, putting some feeling into it like he would like Stiles to just get on with it.

Stiles snorted, before he held up the cuffs, and Derek immediately put out his hands so he could secure the cuffs around his wrists. Then he pushed Derek so he’d lie out on his back, his eyes falling half-lidded and his posture totally open.

“God, you’re handsome,” Stiles said, grabbing the cockring and moving between Derek’s legs. “But I bet you hear that all the time, huh?” He took Derek’s dick in hand, pulling a sigh out of the other man. His dick was chubbing up in his hand, already half hard, the perfect thickness to slide the ring down and have it fit snugly at the base.

“Roll over for me,” he said, and Derek was quick to comply, turning over and shifting his bound arms above his head. Stiles took Derek’s hips and pulled them up, so Derek was forced onto his knees, startling a grunt out of him. Stiles dug his fingers into the meat of Derek’s ass, pulling him wide open so he could see into his red heat. Stiles leaned in and dragged the flat of his tongue along that exposed hole.

Derek made this sound like it was ripped from him, and Stiles wanted him to make that noise again, to make all the noises until he was just moaning in abandon. He kept up the swipes of his tongue, going slow because he wanted to savor this, and he wanted the slow build of arousal in Derek. He was going to have him begging.

Stiles kept up the long, flat licks of his tongue, his fingers squeezing the cheeks of Derek’s ass, his nails digging in almost hard enough to break the skin. Derek would probably have bruises later, and it thrilled Stiles to think of Derek touching them as he remembered how they got there. Someday he was going to cover Derek in bruises, ones that could be hidden under his nice suits, but all he would have to do was shift and he would feel Stiles everywhere.

Stiles put more force behind his licks, spurned on by Derek’s increasingly whiny sounds. When he paused to look at him, he found him with his face buried in his arms. His fingers were clenching at the pillows, rhythmically spasming. Stiles went back to his licking, teasing the rim of Derek’s hole before he stabbed his tongue in and out. That made the pitch of Derek’s noises change, more insistent as he started to rock his hips back.

Pulling back, Stiles gave his ass a sharp smack, which startled a noise out of Derek. “Be still,” he told him, dragging his nails over the red spot he’d made.

“Sorry, sir,” Derek gasped into the crook of his elbow.

“It’s okay.” Stiles leaned in and nipped at the reddened skin of Derek’s ass, causing him to jerk with a grunt. Chuckling, he spread him open again and set to work getting him sloppy wet, using his tongue like a piston and slurping at Derek’s hole.

“Fuck, Stiles,” Derek moaned, practically shaking with the effort to keep still. His dick was hanging heavy between his legs, oozing precome from its angry, deep red head. “Please.”

“Please, what?” Stiles asked right into Derek’s tailbone.

“I need to come, please let me come, sir,” Derek whined, shifting his arms so he could reach his hands down under himself. He didn’t grab his dick though, probably because he knew he’d be punished if he did.

“Not yet,” Stiles said, laving Derek’s hole with one last lick. “Where’s your lube?” He smiled as Derek did little more than nod his head at the nightstand, snuffling at the pillows.

Stiles thought he was adorable. He reached over and pulled out the drawer, digging through it until his fingers found a bottle. He pulled it out and smiled. It was the same expensive brand that Stiles used, the same one from the club too. He popped the cap and oozed it onto his fingers, rubbing them to warm the liquid.

He started with one finger, smiling at the sigh Derek let out as it slid home. Derek was so relaxed, so wanting, that it was easy to graduate to two and then three fingers, stretching him carefully. Derek was shuddering and clenching around his fingers, anxious, and Stiles gave his prostate a couple strokes to show how good he was being. He didn’t do it too much though, because he didn’t want to get him too close.

“Think you can fuck yourself on this from that angle?” Stiles asked, picking up the thick black dildo and starting to slick it up with lube.

“I can do it,” Derek gasped, shifting his arms further down and twisting a little to reach for the dildo. Stiles handed it over, and Derek gripped it by its flared base, trying to press it against his open hole even with his hand tied together and awkward. The head of the dildo slipped and slid a little, before Stiles helped, getting it into the right position so Derek could shove it in with a deep moan.

Stiles watched as Derek didn’t waste any time starting to fuck himself with the dildo, going for fast and hard right away and proving his impatience. Stiles grabbed his wrist and stalled the thrusts. “Slow down, I want this to last. It’ll be so much better for you if you work up to it.”

Derek huffed through his nose, but he did as instructed, wrist flexing as he moved the dildo in and out of his stretched hole, slowly.

Stiles sat back and watched, running his tongue between his lips. “That’s good, huh?” he asked, and Derek just sighed. “Sometimes all you really need is a nice big dick deep inside you. It touches all the places you can’t reach.” He watched as Derek trembled with the effort of keeping his movements long and slow.

“Just a bit faster now,” Stiles said, and Derek hurried to comply. “I can tell you’re aching for it.”

Reaching over, Stiles ran a finger along the stretched pink of Derek’s hole, watching the way it shifted as it stuck to the sides of the dildo. “Do you fuck yourself like this often?” he asked, and Derek did little more than whine, his hand stuttering a moment before it started to move faster. “You just shove something inside you until you come, don’t you?”

“I’m impatient, sir,” Derek bit out, more of a growl than anything.

“I can tell,” Stiles said, pressing the heel of his hand against the bulge in his pants. “Go ahead and fuck yourself like you want. I want to see it.”

Derek didn’t hesitate, going hard and fast, like he’d rather beat his prostate to orgasm than coax it gently. Stiles could understand that. Sometimes he did the same thing, because who didn’t want a good hard fucking once and a while?

Stiles undid his pants and pulled his pulsing dick out of the whole in his boxers, giving it a stroke just to take the edge off. What Derek like this, God, it was enough to get him off. He’d wanted to fuck derek after he was done, to sink into that open and puffy hole, but that would have to wait.

It didn’t take that long until Derek started to quake harder, his thrusts becoming erratic. “Stiles,” he moaned, his free hand clenching into a fist.

“Yeah?” Stiles asked, stroking himself with a hand still kind of slick with lube. He thumbed the head and bucked up against his own hand.

“Please, can I come, sir? I need to come,” Derek growled out, not quite begging be certainly close enough for Stiles.

“Yeah, go ahead,” Stiles gasped, already close just from watching.

Derek shoved the dildo in one last time and let out a shout, dick spurting ropes of white as his ass twitched. Watching him come, the way his back tensed and his abs convulsed, almost brought Stiles right over the edge. He continued to watch him as all the tension in Derek’s body just gave out and he melted down onto the covers, panting hard and letting the dildo go so it just slid out of his gaping hole.

Stiles grabbed the dildo and set it to the side. “Turn over for my, okay?” he said, and Derek groaned but made an over to shift onto his back, looking boneless. Stiles smiled down at him, because Derek wasn’t even trying to keep his eyes open.

“So good for me,” Stiles murmured, sliding the cockring off and setting it with the dildo, before he shifted so he was straddling Derek’s thigh, his hand going back to his dick. “You were perfect, so perfect,” he babbled as he stroked himself, stripping his dick over Derek’s stomach. “God, so good, so--fuck!”

His orgasm seized him like a shot of electricity, tensing up his muscles before releasing and letting him paint Derek’s stomach and chest with white. He gasped as pleasure took hold of him and didn’t let go until he was spent. He dropped to a sit on Derek’s thigh and gave him a smile as Derek just watched him silently. “It’s been a long time since I’ve come that hard,” Stiles told him, before he yawned.

Derek didn’t say anything, just held out his arms.

“Oh, right, sorry,” Stiles said, undoing the straps of the cuffs and taking them off.

As Derek rubbed at his wrists, Stiles looked him over, tracing the lines of come on his stomach and chest with his eyes. He had to say it was a nice sight, to see this man usually so uptight all uninhibited and come covered. He leaned forward and swirled two of his fingers in the quickly cooling come, gathering a bit on his fingertips.

“Here,” he mumbled, offering his fingers to Derek, and the man gave them a look before he opened his mouth and sucked them in. Stiles bit his lip as Derek swirled his tongue around his fingers, licking them clean. “Fuck, if you could see what you look like.”

Derek rolled his eyes up to look at Stiles and gave a suck, his cheeks hollowing out.

Laughing, Stiles withdrew his hand. “Cheeky.”

“Can you move?” Derek asked. “I’d like to get cleaned up.” He shifted, looking uncomfortable. “And I’m in the wet spot.”

Guess the scene was over. Stiles shifted off of Derek and off the bed, stuffing himself back into his pants and zipping them back up. He watched as Derek got up, stretching out his long legs and arms, before he grabbed the dildo and cockring and headed for the bathroom. He had such a great ass, but it was his back that Stiles watched.

“What does your tattoo mean?” Stiles asked, shoving his hands into his back pockets and standing outside the closet to look through it at Derek, where he was standing with his back to him at the sink. “Is it Celtic?”

“Yeah,” Derek called back, before he turned on the tap to the sink, the sound of running water starting up. “It’s a triskele, and it means a lot of different things. To the Christians, it’s for the Father, Son and Holy Spirit. For me, it’s past, present and future.” The sound of water cut off with a squeak, and Derek turned to walk back out. “A reminder that my decisions affect every aspect of my life.”

“Cool,” Stiles said, looking into Derek’s eyes. “I kind of want to get a tattoo, but I went with Scott to a tattoo parlor once, and I was the one who fainted.”

Derek’s lips twitched at that, before he walked around Stiles and went to where his clothes were piled in the armchair by the window. He pulled on his underwear and pants then his dress shirt, but he left his jacket off.

“I guess you want me to leave now, huh?” Stiles asked, watching him.

“Did I say that?” Derek responded, padding over on bare feet.

“No, I kind of inferred it,” Stiles said, looking down at Derek’s adorable toes. “This is a ‘wham, bam, thank you man’ situation, right? Because you don’t like sticking around, so why should I?”

“If that’s what you want it to be,” Derek replied with an eyebrow raised. “But if you leave, you’ll miss out on the dinner I’m going to make.” Then he walked right out of the room.

Staring after him in confusion, Stiles managed to get his break into gear so he could go after him. He caught him at the stairs. “You want to make me dinner?” he asked, following him down to the ground floor.

“I’m hungry, and it gives us time to discuss our arrangement,” Derek answered without stopping.

“Arrangement?” Stiles couldn’t help but ask, feeling silly as he toddled after Derek, just getting more confused by the minute.

Derek sighed and turned about, stopping. “I want you to be my dom.”

Stiles skittered to a halt. “What, like, permanently?”

“Are you going to make a question out of everything I say?” Derek prompted, a smile spreading across his unfairly handsome face. Then he turned and started toward the kitchen again.

“Maybe,” Stiles mumbled, going after him again.

He was left in the dining room and sat down to wait, his head spinning. Derek wanted him to stick around, to continue doing scene together. Stiles was more than all about it, but they definitely needed to talk about it. And Derek seemed to be even open to that too. Stiles had no idea what he’d done to make Derek let him in like this, but he wasn’t going to squander it. He was going to be the best dom ever.

Derek came back after a while with a fragrant curry on rice, setting a bowl down in front of Stiles before sitting down across from him. It smelled heavenly, and Stiles felt his mouth water as he leaned over and took a deep breath of it.

“I want to meet at least once a week,” Derek started, stirring the curry into his rice. “I have a pretty busy schedule, but I think I can manage that.”

“‘Kay,” Stiles said, before he blew on his spoonful then took a bite. He let out a moan that belonged in the bedroom. “Oh my god, feed me always.”

There was a gentle smile on Derek’s face before he wiped it away with his fingers. “We can go to the club sometimes, but I’d rather do scenes here.”

“So you don’t want me to paddle you in front of everyone at the club like that dude Ennis?” Stiles asked, already chowing down on the food. He knew he should savor it, but it was so damn good.

Derek dropped his eyes to the table. “That was more of a spontaneous thing. I’d prefer we talk about what we’re going to do ahead of time.” He dragged his bottom lip through his teeth. “If I ever want you to show your dominance over me in public, I’ll tell you.”

“Okay,” Stiles said, his cheek bulging.

Derek didn’t say anything immediately after that, just focused on his food. For a while, they ate in silence. Stiles kept glancing up, but Derek seemed content how he was, silent and eating. That was okay. If either of them came up with any other rules or concerns, they could tell each other.

“Have you ever had a long term dom?” Stiles finally asked

“Yes,” Derek said, pushing the last of his curry around in his bowl. “Once.”

“Do you want to tell me about them?” Stiles gently pried, thinking that maybe Derek would be open about it since Stiles had blabbered about his past experiences with his subs.

But Derek just shook his head. “No.”

Stiles licked his lips. “Were they good to you?”

Derek’s jaw tightened, and there was a muscle tick. “No,” he finally said.

“Oh,” Stiles breathed out, getting sad all of the sudden. Without thinking, he reached across the table and took Derek’s hand in his. “I’ll be good to you,” he told him with deep conviction.

Derek gazed at their joined hands a moment, before he turned his hand to grip Stiles back. “I know.”

Chapter Text

Stiles walked into the cafeteria feeling totally distracted. When he'd given Derek some papers earlier, Derek had said that he wanted Stiles to come over after work again. He said it so plainly, like he was asking for a cup of coffee, not for a hard fucking with a side of pain. Stiles was very much into this very direct way that Derek asked for things. It had him smiling as he waited in line for his sandwich and gelato.

He went over to a table, ready to tackle his dessert first because it was already melting and he didn't want to have to drink it. But he was immediately distracted from his tasty treat when Erica set her tray opposite of him and sat down. She gave him a smile, eyes sparkling with mischief.

"Uh, hi," Stiles said slowly, glancing around. "What's up?"

"What makes you think something is up?" Erica asked, pulling the plastic off of her chicken wrap with finely manicured fingers.

"I've been working here almost four months, and you have never sat with me." That one time he'd sought her out, she'd seemed put out by his presence at first. But now she seemed open to his existence, like it was a new and exciting thing she got to touch.

"Well, that should change. We are the secretaries of the firm's partners. We should stick together." Erica gave him another smile, but it did little to ease the suspicion knotting between Stiles’s shoulder blades.

He squinted at her. "Yeah, okay. I can see that happening. After you ask the question you're dying to ask." Stiles could see it written all over her face.

Erica just smiled wider, not even denying it. "Are you and Mr Hale sleeping together?" She asked, pitching her voice low and quiet, but her excitement was easy to see.

"There it is," Stiles said with a deep sigh, finally setting his gelato and spoon down so he could lean back in his chair. Erica just looked at him eagerly like this was the best bit of gossip she'd ever heard. "Who told you? Was it Ms Hale?" Since Erica was her assistant, it seemed likely.

Erica didn't bother denying it. "She said that she caught you two together in the elevator."

Stiles rolled his eyes high. That made it sound like Ms Hale had caught them with their pants down to their ankles and mid-hump. “Yeah, we were riding in the elevator. Together. It happens.” He knew that Derek didn’t want the whole building knowing about them, so he was ready to deny it to the death. Stiles didn’t want scrutiny from his peers either. They weren’t dating or anything, just fucking every once and a while.

It didn’t matter that Derek had made him dinner. He’d just been hungry. Yeah.

Narrowing her brown eyes, Erica stared at him a long moment. “So you’re not sleeping together?” When Stiles shook his head, she hummed. “Okay, I believe you, I guess.”

“You guess?” Stiles asked, looking down at his partially melted dessert and nearly pouting. He’d been about to devour that.

“Yeah, I guess I’ll take your word for it. I was excited when Laura told me what she saw, because all I could think was that I was happy for Derek.”

Stiles blinked at that, before he lowered his eyes. Erica wouldn’t have been happy if she knew what their actual arrangement was. They weren’t even friends with benefits. They were just people with benefits. They didn’t even kiss. It was working for them so far, but that was all it was going to be.

“Sorry to disappoint,” Stiles said with a sigh.

“It’s okay. I should have known Laura was making something out of nothing. Oh well.” There was a beep, and she picked up her purse to dig around in it, pulling out her phone after a few moments. She smiled at whatever she found there, before she tapped out a response. When she was done, she looked like she was going to put her phone up, but she paused. “Hey,” she said, looking at Stiles. “What’s your phone number?”

“What, why?” Stiles asked, his mouth full of creamy gelato.

“So I can pester you at random times and send you pics of kittens,” Erica replied, straight-faced.

Stiles stared a moment. “Oh.” He pulled out his phone and rattled off the number for her. After a moment, he received a text from her, and it was indeed a photo manip of a kitten doing kung-fu. With a snort, Stiles sent back a picture of a tiny baby kitten yawning.

“Awwww,” Erica squeaked, smiling wide to show her perfect teeth. “We’re going to be besties.”


“You’re tense,” Stiles said as he sat on Derek’s thighs and massaged the muscles of Derek’s back.

When they got to Derek’s house, he’d ordered Derek upstairs to the bedroom, to strip and lay out on the bed. Stiles had undressed too, but he wasn’t in any hurry to get down to business. He wanted Derek as relaxed as possible.

“Yeah,” Derek mumbled into the pillow. “Important case. Court on Monday.” At least he wasn’t monosyllabic.

“Don’t think about that right now,” Stiles replied, pushing at a knot in Derek’s back and making him moan softly. “Just think about what’s happening in this moment. I’ve got you. You’re safe. Work is a million miles away.” He dragged his fingers down Derek’s spine, inciting a shudder.

Derek sighed deeply, rubbing at his nose a second, and Stiles was struck with how cute that gesture was. Derek wasn’t allowed to be adorable. He had to be nearly thirty. Usually he looked like a painfully handsome cactus, but right now he was being adorable.

Stiles curled his fingers and dragged his nails down Derek’s back, and Derek’s reaction was instantaneous. He gasped loudly and arched into the sensation, letting out a garbled sound. That made Stiles grin. “Feel good?” His grin just grew as Derek nodded rapidly. “Do you want me to scratch you all over?” Another nod from the man underneath him. “Okay.”

Stiles lifted up onto his knees and started to scratch lines down Derek’s back, leaving red lines that bloomed with heat and sting. He contented himself with just dragging his nails down the length of Derek’s back, delighting in the patterns he was making. Then his braced his nails in either side of Derek’s spine and scratched outward over his shoulder blades like wings. Derek let out this strangled noise and flexed his back.

"God, you’re hot like this," Stiles said with a lecherous smile. He knee walked his way down so he could scratch at Derek’s butt and thighs. "So responsive." He kept making lines down the fleshy mounds of Derek’s ass until it was all red and hot. He laid his hands over it and smiled as Derek canted his hips back. "I know what you want, but I'm not done with you yet. Turn over for me."

Derek did as told, twisting onto his back and looking up at Stiles with his pupils blown wide so there was barely a bit of green around them. Stiles dug his nails into Derek’s shoulders and raked them down his chest, making sure to catch his nipples, which were already hard and beaded. He scratched over the hills and valleys of Derek’s abs, briefly jealous, before he came to his cock. It was standing tall and hard in its nest of black pubic hair, so ready.

Stiles took Derek in hand and gave him a stroke, which pulled a whine from the other man's throat. "Do you want me to make you come?" he asked, and Derek just panted in response. "You have to say it, Derek. Come on, I know you can do it."

"Please," Derek spat desperately, arching. "I need to come. Please make me come, sir." He tried to spread his legs, present himself, but Stiles had him pinned.

"Well since you asked so nicely," Stiles said, before he shifted so he could lean down and swallow Derek's dick in one go.

Derek arched again with a high keen, grabbing onto the pillows above his head and holding on. He was a beautiful sight when he bit his lips together and gazed down at Stiles through half-lidded, glossy eyes. Stiles gave him a suck, hollowing out his cheeks and spreading his precome on his tongue.

"Can you do something for me?" Stiles asked after releasing Derek’s dick with a pop. He smiled when Derek nodded emphatically. "I want you to be loud. I want you to moan and shout. I want you to beg me. Do you think you could do that for me, Derek?"

Derek licked his lips and nodded, before he rolled his hips in an effort to get Stiles back to the task at hand. It made Stiles laugh and swat his hip.

"Demanding," Stiles murmured with a smile.

Derek immediately shrank into himself, some of the light dulling in his eyes. "Sorry, I didn't mean to be," he said quickly, eyes averted.

Stiles lifted up on his knees and swiftly took Derek's face in hand. "Hey, hey, it's okay. I didn't say it was a bad thing. I actually like that you know what you want and know how to ask for it." When Derek gave him a guilty look, Stiles blinked at him. "Have you been asking for what you want?"

Derek didn't meet his eyes, and that was answer enough.

Stiles slowly sank back onto Derek’s thighs, sadness filling up the space where delight had been been a minute ago. He slid off the man's lap and moved to lie next to him, and Derek kept his eyes pointed away. "Hey, c'mere," Stiles said, opening his arms and beckoning Derek closer with his hands. "We gotta cuddle this out."

Derek gave him an incredulous look, before he slowly shifted onto his side and scooted closer. He looked like he wanted to trust it, but also like he felt it was a trap. Stiles wiggled his fingers like jazz hands, and Derek shifted closer. He folded himself into Stiles's chest, letting out a sigh.

Stiles wrapped his arms around Derek and nuzzled his hair. "It's okay to ask for things you want. I encourage it. I want you to be happy." Stiles dragged his nails across Derek’s scalp, earning a shiver. "Let's do this. I want to ask for one thing you desire each time we do a scene together. Think you can do that?"

It took a few moments, but Derek nodded against Stiles's chest. So Stiles pet his hair for a little while, feeling with the arm wrapped around Derek’s back as the tension slowly left his body, muscle by muscle. When he was loose and leaning heavily against Stiles's chest, Stiles drew back enough to look at his face.

"What's your request this time?" he asked.

Derek took a took, steadying breath, keeping his eyes on Stiles’s. “I want you to suck me off,” he said, before he immediately drew back a little and looked like he was ready to be denied. Or slapped.

Stiles just smiled, even as he was starting to think that Derek had had a dom with terrible BDSM etiquette before. They could talk about it one day, but right then Stiles wanted to give Derek everything he asked for. So he rolled them so he was on top of Derek, pushing himself up onto his hand and nudging Derek’s legs open with his knee. Derek promptly spread his legs wide, so it was easy to shift down and settle between them, face to face with his dick.

Derek’s erection hadn’t flagged, even with the conversation, and Stiles kissed the head as he worked Derek’s meaty thighs up onto his shoulders. He took Derek into his mouth again, humming in delight at the weight on his tongue, and Derek sighed above him, shuddering. When Stiles set to work, it wasn’t with the intent to tease. He took the whole of Derek’s cock into his throat over and over again, alternatively burying his nose in his pubic hair and sucking at the head.

His gag reflex had died a peaceful death long ago.

Stiles ran his nails up and down the outsides of Derek’s thighs over and over as he worked his mouth over his cock, listening to the soft sounds Derek was letting out. They seemed to be gaining in volume and intensity, so Stiles was pleased that Derek was taking his request to heart. He wanted the man loud and slutty.

It seemed like he would get what he wanted, because Derek started to cry out with each downward bob of Stiles’s head, and Stiles opened his eyes to watch him, digging his nails into the man’s hips. Derek seemed to be struggling to keep still, his body twitching this way and jerking that way. It reminded Stiles that he was hard too, and he fought not to hump the bed.

“Stiles,” Derek moaned, throwing his head back. “Ah, fuck, sir, I’m gonna come, please let me come.”

Stiles shifted, sitting up and wrapping both hands around Derek’s cock to give him something to fuck up into. “Do it,” he said, watching as Derek dug his feet into the bed to give him leverage to rock his hips. “Come for me, show me how much you appreciate me sucking your cock.”

Derek came with a garbled shout, arching high and tight as rope after rope of white come hit his chest and even his chin. He had a bit of come in his beard now.

That sight made Stiles chuckle, and he reached up and fingered the goo in the soft black strands. “You’re perfect,” he said, beyond pleased with Derek even though he was still hard and wanting. “So perfect for me.”

Derek was breathing hard, coming down from his high, but eventually he started to squirm. Stiles thought at first he was just uncomfortable from being covering in quickly cooling come, but then he reached between them like he was trying to get at Stiles’s dick.

“Tell me what you want,” Stiles hand, grabbed the man’s hand and lacing their fingers.

Derek stared at their adjoined hands a moment, before he swallowed. “I want to make you come.”

Stiles giggled. Giggled. “It won’t take much,” he said as he knee walked up Derek’s body so he was straddling his chest. “I’m already on edge. Use your hand.” Stiles kept hold of the one he already had, giving it a squeeze.

Licking his lips, Derek brought up his other hand, wrapping it around Stiles’s dick. He didn’t bother going slow, and Stiles moaned at the feeling, hitching his hips. Derek really knew how to pull a guy off, strong strokes with a twist at the head. It was enough to bring him off fast.

“Oh Guh--oh fuck, I’m gonna, ah!” Stiles babbled, before his entire body tensed, keening before pleasure crashed into him like a crested wave. He had his eyes shut as he came, but the sight that greeted him when he opened his eyes was so worth it.

Derek’s face was striped with come, over his full lips, his high cheeks and sticking his eyelashes together. He opened his eyes slowly, and when he found that it was difficult, he lifted his hand and swiped his thumb over his eye, before he popped it in his mouth and gave it a suck.

Stiles’s knees felt weak, and it was all he could do to fall to the side instead of forward. He breathed heavily, shifting so he could look down at Derek. He was gazing back, eyes sleepy, and there was a soft smile on his face.

“I’m gonna get you,” Stiles said, and Derek blinked at him with a little “Hm?” Stiles shifted. “I’m going to cuddle the daylights out of you once I have feeling back in my legs.”

Derek snorted out a laugh, before he endeavored to get up. He shifted across the bed and more or less fell into Stiles’s arms, wrapping him up in an embrace.

“That works too,” Stiles said, throwing his arms around Derek’s neck and pressing their foreheads together. There was a wet squish. “Oh, goddammit,” he muttered. “We need to start keeping wet wipes out here.”

Derek laughed, a deeply amused belly laugh that shook his body, and Stiles couldn’t help grinning like an idiot.


On Saturday, Stiles did what he always did on the weekends, and that was sit around in his boxers and a stained tank top and play video games with Scott. The game of the day was Call of Duty, and Stiles was being chatty today, probably because he’d been up for a long time.

“I never thought I’d end up in a situation like this,” he said, tapping quickly at his controller. “I’ve never had to keep a relationship secret before. It’s kind of thrilling, in a way, all this sneaking around, but I also wish that we could be seen together without everyone flipping their shit.”

“Have you told him that?” Scott asked, blowing someone’s brains out.

“No,” Stiles said with a sigh. “Derek doesn’t want anyone to know.”

“Did he say that?” Scott asked him.

Stiles paused and his character was blown to pieces. “No, but he definitely implied it. He didn’t seem happy when his sister found us both in the elevator--innocently riding together--and said she would tell the whole building we were fucking.”

“Hm,” Scott replied, and that was okay. Stiles had long since gotten used to using Scott as a sounding board to talk at. Sometimes Scott had good advice, but not always.

“The sex is worth it though,” Stiles said, and Scott snorted.

“What’s worth it?” Kira asked as she entered the room with a bowl of chips and three beers.

“Oh blessed goddess,” Stiles said, taking a beer and twisting off the cap to take deep swigs.

“Stiles is doing his boss, but it’s on the down low,” Scott said, accepting a beer and handing Kira the third controller.

“Oh, really?” Kira asked, sitting next to Scott on the couch. “How’d you manage to get into that kind of situation, Stiles?” She logged onto her Xbox account and joined the game.

“Uh, well, we both went to the same club,” he started, and he needn’t say anymore, because they both went ‘ohhh’ at the same time. He sighed. “Yeah, it’s all good. In fact it’s great when we’re together. We do these perfect scenes where we both forget everything else. There haven’t been any problems, not really.”

“But?” Scott prompted gently.

Was there a but? He was pretty happy with what he and Derek were doing. They met a few times a week at Derek’s house, did a scene, then Derek made dinner. It wasn’t a date or anything. It felt deeper, weirdly domestic. He liked it. He wished they could kiss though.

“But nothing,” Stiles finally, turning back to the game.

They focusing on shooting people in various fatal places for a while. Kira even saved Stiles by stabbing a dude. It was fun to just relax with your best pals, blowing shit up and taking no prisoners. After a while, Scott shifted to the floor so he could shovel chips from the coffee table into his mouth while playing, and Kira scooted to play with her legs on either side of Scott’s body.

“Hey, Stiles?” Kira spoke up a while later, and Stiles just let out a ‘mm?’ to show he’d heard her. “I know you don’t want to hear this, but it might not be wise to sleep with your boss.” She was so gentle about it that Stiles couldn’t even be slightly affronted.

“What do you mean? We’re both consenting adults and shit,” Stiles replied, picking up some ammo and climbing to the top of a tower to snipe people. He knifed the guy that was already there.

“Well, if someone at your office finds out, they might get the wrong impression about what your intentions are with your boss,” Kira said, still soft like she was concerned with offending Stiles.

But Stiles knew that she only meant the best. “What, like I’m trying to sleep to the top? Get more perks on the job?” he suggested and she shrugged. “Well, I’m not. No one’s going to find out. We’re discreet.”

“If you say so,” Kira said, setting her hand on Stiles’s arm. “Just be careful.”

“I will. I am,” Stiles told her, nodding. “Thanks for looking out for me.”

She smiled at him then turned to blow the head off of someone on the opposing team.


When Stiles got to the offices Monday morning with coffee, he was surprised to find Derek’s office empty, but then he remembered that he had court that morning. “I’ll just wait here then,” he said to himself, sitting down at his desk and proceeding to drink both coffees because that was healthy.

It was nearly lunch time when the elevator at the end of the hallway pinged open and Derek stepped out. Stiles put on a smile and stood up as Derek approached. “Hey boss, man,” he started. “How was--” Derek stormed right past him and into his office, slamming the door. “...court?”

That was telling. Court must not have gone well if Derek was in a huff.

Stiles stood there a moment, before he finally just sat back down. He didn’t have any work to do, so he just picked up his phone and starting to play Kwazy Kupcakes. He didn’t know why this game was so addictive, but there was a reason over 500 million people played it. Maybe it was because the cupcakes danced.

He was well into a level when the light on his intercom lit up. “Stiles, can you come in here, please?” Derek asked, and the light went off.

Stiles stood up, putting his phone in his pocket and heading into Derek’s office. Derek was standing in front of his desk, hands fisted at his sides, and Stiles halted when he saw the angry determination on his face. “Derek?” he asked.

“Lock the door,” Derek said, and Stiles reached out behind him, flailing around blindly for the doorknob a moment before he grabbed it and locked the door. “I need you to do something for me.”

“This isn’t a ‘help me hide the body’ situation, right? I don’t know if I could handle that. I’m a bit squeamish,” Stiles couldn’t help but blurt out, actually like of afraid of Derek’s expression right then.

Derek just gave him a look like he was an idiot, before his hands went to his own belt, unhooking it. “I need you to spank me,” he said, like it was the most casual of requests. He unzipped his pants then pushed them down over his ass as he turned around, bracing his hands on the desk.

“Wh-what?” Stiles asked, his widening eyes fixating on Derek’s bare ass. This was totally out of the blue. “Are you sure?”

“What I be in this position if I weren’t sure?” Derek growled over his shoulder, before his expression softened to something much sadder. “Please, Stiles. This is my request.”

Stiles brought his eyebrows together, before he nodded. “Okay,” he said, stepping closer. He had no idea what this was about, why Derek’s need was so great, but he could definitely tell that he needed it. “Can you be quiet?”

“Yes,” Derek breathed out, his shoulders sagging as he leaned against the desk. “And even if I weren’t, this office is soundproof.”

“It is?” Stiles asked, standing next to Derek now. He grabbed the tails of his jacket and shirt and lifted them up, exposing his ass better. “Why are we not having sex in here all the time?” He took hold of an ass cheek and squeezed.

Derek snorted, which was good. “Sometimes I actually like getting some work done.” He pressed back against Stiles's hand, insistent.

Stiles just let out a chuckle, before he lifted his hand and brought it down hard on Derek’s perfect ass. Derek jerked, before he shifted back into position. Stiles did the same thing to the other cheek, and Derek just rocked with the momentum, forward and then back again.

“Have you been a bad boy?” Stiles asked in a husky way as he continued his strikes. “Is that why you want to be punished?” He licked his lips, delighted at how red Derek’s ass was already.

“Yes,” Derek croaked, sounding barely human. “Please, sir, punish me.”

“How many should I give you, huh?” Stiles asked, resting his hand on the heat of Derek’s ass. “I’ve already done five. Should I give you five more? Ten? Twenty?”

In answer, Derek just moaned, pushing his ass back against Stiles’s hand.

“Ten seems like a good number,” Stiles said, and Derek let out a soft whine, nodding his head where it was dropped between his shoulders. “I want you to count for me. Start with six.” He drew his hand back and smacked Derek across the left ass cheek.

Derek moaned, before he swallowed. “Six,” he finally said, voice low and rumbly. With every spank, he growled out the number. “Seven, eight…” It was so hot to have him like this, barely controlled and moving back into the pain. “Nine, ten…”

Stiles put more oomph into his strikes after that, grinning as the relaxed muscle of Derek’s ass rippled with each one. This was why he was an ass man. They were just so much fun to play with.

“Fourteen, fifteen,” Derek gasped out, and he was shaking with the effort of holding himself up.

“I’ve got you,” Stiles said as he rubbed his hand along the red and bruised flesh of Derek’s ass. He reached around him, pulling up his pants. He thought he’d have to maneuver around an erection, but Derek was soft, so it was easy to pull his pants up and draw up the zip before threading the button through the hole. “Here, slide down for me.”

They both went to their knees in front of the desk, and Stiles leaned against it as he manhandled Derek around to lie down with his head in Stiles’s lap. Derek wrapped his hands around Stiles’s thigh, letting out a bone-deep sigh.

“You wanna talk about it?” Stiles asked, drawing his fingers through Derek’s hair. “Why you needed to be spanked, I mean.”

Derek didn’t say anything immediately, just started off at an opposing wall. Stiles was starting to think that he just wasn’t going to answer at all. That was fine, of course. Stiles didn’t need to know, even though he wanted to. He just sat there and petted Derek’s soft hair.

“I lost the case,” Derek finally said, lips pressing into a line as he turned his head more into Stiles’s thigh. “It was a very important case too.”

“Oh,” Stiles said, heart sinking. Derek had been working hard on that case for ages, since before Stiles started working at the firm. He’d had other cases too, ones that Stiles got to witness in court, but this was the big one. “I’m sorry.”

“The prosecution added on some surprise evidence, and I couldn’t get it suppressed. My client and I were screwed from then on,” Derek said, more mumbling than anything. He sighed through his nose and shifted so he was on his back instead of his side, looking up at Stiles’s face. “Thank you.”

Stiles nodded down at him, carding his fingers through Derek’s black hair, lightly scratching his scalp. “It’s not a problem. I’m happy to help.” He gave Derek a smile, and Derek returned it with a small one of his own. “Emergency spankings are totally my thing. I should have that put on a business card.”

That made Derek’s smile widen, and he let out a long sigh that seemed to liquify his bones, before he turned his face into Stiles’s stomach. They stayed like that a long while, Stiles petting Derek’s hair. Stiles had always thought it was an impressive amount of product that kept his hair that perfect, but it looked like he was just born fabulous. Then Stiles had a thought.

“Do you like your job?” he asked, and Derek swiveled his eyes up to look at him. “I’m just saying. This is a pretty intense reaction to have.”

Derek let out a short breath. “I like practicing law,” he said slowly, brows coming down. “I wish I could do more pro bono work, but that’s not what this firm is about.”

“Why don’t you branch off and do your own thing?” Stiles suggested, and Derek closed his eyes with a shake of his head.

“I can’t. It’s impossible. This is my family’s company.”

“Oh,” Stiles said, almost sad. He kept petting Derek’s hair, letting the silence fall over them.

Stiles didn’t know how much time had passed when Derek opened his eyes and gazed up at Stiles, before he sat up, bracing one arm on the other side of Stiles’s lap. He just stared at Stiles’s face a long, pregnant minute, before he leaned in and touched their lips together, so soft that it was barely more than a caress.

Stiles blinked rapidly as Derek pulled back, before he gave him wide eyes. “Uh?”

“Don’t make a big deal about it,” Derek said, still inches from Stiles’s face. “I just felt like doing it.”

“Okay,” Stiles replied first, before he looked at Derek’s mouth and licked his own lips. “Can we do it again?”

Derek snorted, before he leaned in again and connected their lips, harder now. They opened their mouths at the same time, deepening the kiss as their tongues slid and rolled against one another.

Now Stiles knew what he’d been missing when Derek insisted they not kiss, and he wished that they’d been doing this from the very beginning. Derek lips fit against him like a vacuum seal, like they were meant to be there, and he was very enthusiastic with the licks into Stiles’s mouth.

Stiles curled his fingers in the hair on the back of Derek’s neck, giving as good as he got it. He had to wonder this meant though, that Derek was breaking his one and only rule. Did Derek trust him more now? Did he want him more now? He knew that he should ask, but he didn’t want Derek to take it back. He’d wait.

When the kiss finally broke, Stiles was breathing a little harder through his nose, his heart thumping in his chest. He watched as Derek shifted to sit next to him, leaning against the back of the desk. He laced his hands in his lap, letting out a sigh.

“I’ve been thinking,” Derek said, cutting into the comfortable silence, and Stiles looked at him. “I’d like to go condomless.”

Well that was a surprise to Stiles. He shifted to sit up straighter. “Oh, okay, that sounds cool. We’re already exclusive anyway, so it’s not much of a stretch.” He paused, a darker thought sinking in. “We are exclusive, right?” That got him a glare, and he hurriedly backpedaled. “Okay, okay, sorry, jeez. I’m just saying, it’s not like we ever discussed it.”

“Do you have other subs?” Derek asked, low and unhappy.

“No,” Stiles said immediately, lifting a hand to run his fingers over Derek’s jawline. “You’re the only one.”

“Good,” Derek said, catching Stiles’s hand and bringing it down to hold in his lap. “Then we’ll stop using condoms.”

“We should probably both get tested too, just for peace of mind,” Stiles added with a nod.

That had a wry smile twisting Derek’s lips. “Even though I’ve pretty much eaten your ejaculate?” he asked, snorting.

“Who calls it ‘ejaculate’?” Stiles countered.

Derek let out a deep sigh of the long sufferer.

“I’m serious though,” Stiles pressed on. “Let’s get tested. It’ll be just one thing we don’t have to worry about.”

After another sigh, Derek nodded. “Okay, we’ll get tested.”

They sat in silence for a moment, before Stiles squeezed the hand holding his. “Do you want me to pet your hair some more?”

Derek didn’t even hesitate, lying down with his head in Stiles’s lap. “Yes,” he said.

“Okay.” Stiles did just that.

Chapter Text

It was time to celebrate.

Stiles’s test results came back clean, like he knew they would, but it made him want to dance anyway. He couldn’t wait to give Derek the good news, which was probably why he skipped his way onto Derek’s floor, squeaky with joy. He burst his way into Derek’s office, two coffee cups in a holder and a surprise in his satchel.

“Guess who doesn’t have any STDs!” he all but shouted, thrusting his test results at Derek.

“Congratulations,” Derek replied flatly, though there seemed to be some kind of smirk tugging at the edge of his mouth. “I have chlamydia.”

“Say what?” Stiles asked, eyes going wide, but Derek just let that smile grow on his face. “Oh, you asshole, I was scared there for a second.” He shook his head, before he accepted Derek’s tests as they were passed to him. He gave them a cursory glance, seeing negatives across the board. “Nice.”

Stiles took his own results back and opened the flap of his messenger bag, stuffing them inside. “You know, I figured that we both deserved a little prize for our clean results.” He found what he was searching for and pulled it out, showing it to Derek. It was a bulbous black plug, medium sized and a little squishy. “Color?” he asked, all smiles.

Derek stared at the plug a moment, face going blank. “Yellow,” he said, narrowing his eyes. “What did you have in mind?”

Stiles’s grin change, going sharp. “I want to plug my come inside you, and you’ll have to wear it until I take it out tonight.”

Derek took in a sudden breath through his nose, his tongue flicking out to lick at his lips. “Green,” he said, voice husky.

Stiles grabbed the lube out of his bag, before he dropped the bag on the ground. He walked around the desk, watching Derek stand up and push his chair back with his foot. “I love the idea of messing you up for the rest of the day,” he said, setting the plug and lube down. He brought his hands to Derek’s jacket, undoing the two buttons before slowly pushing it off his shoulders and down his arms. “I know you don’t have court or anything today, but I almost wish you did.”

“Want me stuffed full and clenching around a plug while I deliver final arguments to jurors?” Derek asked, voice soft like a rumble.

“Fuck, yeah,” Stiles said, working on the buttons of Derek’s crisp blue shirt now. “Can we do that sometime? Then we can fuck in a closet when court adjourns or something.” He laid the shirt over the back of Derek’s chair with the jacket.

Derek took in a deep breath. “Maybe. That’s not very discreet.”

“Yeah, but it’d be fun,” Stiles countered, grinning, and he got a small smile back. His fingers dropped to Derek’s belt, pulling it open before he popped the button on his pants. “There is a sincere lack of fun in your life, and I am here to correct that.” He pulled down the zip.

“Oh, are you?” Derek replied, that little smile growing. “Here to corrupt me?”

“Definitely.” Stiles pushed Derek’s pants down past his ass, before he grabbed his face and pulled him into a searing kiss. Derek moaned against his mouth, and when Stiles shoved his tongue into his mouth, Derek gave it a hard suck.

Stiles didn’t let the kissing last long, instead drawing back and moving to the side so he could push Derek forward to brace his hands on the desk. Then he grabbed the lube. “I don’t want you to come this time, because I want you on edge,” he said as he slicked up his fingers. “I want to pull orgasms out of you tonight when we’re in private and you can be uninhibited.” He slid his slid fingers through the crack of Derek’s ass, earning a shudder. “Understood?”

“Yes, sir,” Derek replied curtly, rolling his shoulders like he was impatient.

So Stiles sank two fingers inside of him with no warning, and Derek let out a soft cry, probably feeling a sharp burn. He felt smug as Derek dropped his head forward and pressed back on the fingers inside of him, a silent request for more. So Stiles gave it to him, stretching out his fingers before slipping them in and out. He added another finger, and the stilted gasp it incited was beautiful.

Stiles made sure to steer clear of the man’s prostate, not wanting to get him too stimulated. He knew that Derek wouldn’t come unless instructed, but Stiles didn’t want to make it too difficult a task not to. He stretched him out until he was sloppy and open and perfect.

“Do you have a request for me this time?” Stiles asked, and Derek promptly shook his head. “That’s alright. We’ll see if you want something tonight.”

He made quick work of his pants, pushing them down just enough to free his dick and balls. He grabbed his cock and oozed more lube onto it, swiftly slicking it before getting into position. The slow slide made him bite his lips, and Derek moaned as the head of Stiles’s cock popped past his rim and the length slid home.

A guy could make hyperbole about seeing God with his dick sheathed in a perfect ass like this. But Stiles would rather praise Jesus that the world had delivered unto him someone like Derek. He was everything that Stiles wanted tied up in a hot package.

Stiles took hold of Derek’s hips, rolling against him and earning a little whine. “I can’t wait until I have you spread out on a bed tonight,” he said, nosing at the back of Derek’s neck as he starting to rocking his hips back and forth, speeding up so he could get off quickly. “I’m going to play with your ass until you’re begging for me to fuck you. And I might not, not even then. We’ll see.”

“Please,” Derek panted, pushing his ass back to meet Stiles’s thrusts. “Come in me. I want it.”

“I am, I will,” Stiles promised him, kissing along his neck and shoulder. “God, you feel so good.” He pressed his forehead to the top knob of Derek’s spine, losing himself in the back and forth and pleasure of what he was doing. Derek squeezed down on him, making him cry out.

It was so good, so good, and Stiles didn’t have to bother to hold back. He let the sensation wash over him like water in a short glass, filling him up and making his toes curl in his shoes. “God, fuck, Derek,” he moaned, digging his fingers into Derek’s hips.

His orgasm almost took him by surprise, blasting through him in a way that ripped a shout from his lungs and made him see white. His hips stuttered, and he could feel his dick pulsating inside of Derek, filling him up to the brim.

Now this next part Stiles wasn’t sure how to coordinate. “Can you hand me the--?” He pointed at the plug, and Derek grabbed it to pass back to him. He took it and slowly pulled out of Derek, trying not to start a river of come by accident. He wasn’t quite fast enough to stop the dribble as he was slicking up the plug, but when he pressed it in--with a loud moan from Derek--he managed to save the rest.

“There we go,” Stiles said, stepping back and stuffing himself back into his pants. He grabbed a couple tissues off of Derek’s desk, wiping up the excess, before he pulled Derek’s pants up too. “Turn around, big guy.” When Derek did, Stiles got an eyeful of his erection. He wanted to pet it, but he didn’t, because he wasn’t a sadist. He didn’t want to see Derek suffer too much.

Stiles pulled Derek’s boxers up, the head of his dick peeking above the elastic. He did up his pants and looped his belt. Then he turned and grabbed his shirt, putting it on him and doing up the buttons. The jacket was next, and Stiles had a moment to be jealous of how it laid over his beautiful chest. He ran his hands down his front.

“There, now you don’t look like you’ve been perfectly debauched,” he said, smiling as Derek snorted. He leaned in and pressed their lips together, a gentle thing compared to Stiles ramming his dick into Derek’s ass. “I guess I should let you get back to work now, huh, boss man?” He grinned at Derek when he rolled his eyes. “Gonna think about me inside you all day, right?”

“Do I have a choice?” Derek asked, and Stiles laughed.

“Nope!” he replied popping the P before he sashayed out, completely smug.


As Stiles was getting ready to head down to the cafeteria at lunch, his phone sang in his pocket. But I can't compete with a she wolf who has brought me to my knees. What do you see with those yellow eyes? 'Cause I'm falling to pieces. That was Erica’s tone. He pulled out his phone and gave it a look.

Come to Panera Bread with me. Followed by a grinning black cat emoji.

Oh my God, Panera Bread. He hadn't had that in ages. Soup in a bread bowl was calling his name.

Totally down for that, he replied as he headed for the elevator doors.

Meet me by the entrance. We'll walk together. <3 she sent back.

Ugh, walking? Stiles was too lazy to walk, but he figured the place had to be close since the firm was right in the middle of the business district, and traffic would have been murder during lunch anyway. It didn't dampen his spirit though. He was too happy that Derek had been open to his request, and an orgasm didn't hurt his mood.

Erica gave him a curious look when he met her out in front of the building. "What's got you looking like the cat who got the cream?" she asked, looping her arm around his and starting to walk.

Stiles hadn't known they were at the point in their relationship where they casually touch, but he didn't complain. His smile didn't even falter. "It's just a very good day," he replied, his steps falling in time with hers.

“It’s impossible for a Monday to be a good day. You’re losing it,” Erica countered with a pout.

Stiles just grinned at her.

Panera Bread was pretty busy, filled with employees of different places getting their lunches. He and Erica had an hour, so Stiles wasn’t bothered by the wait. He ended up getting a tomato soup in a bread bowl with a grilled cheese. So much bread. He was going to devour it all. Erica got broccoli and cheese with an avocado BLT, and that sounded good too, but Stiles was already committed to his choices.

They grabbed a booth, waiting on their food, and Erica tapped her perfectly manicured nails on the table top, leveling a stare at Stiles. “I can’t believe you like Mondays,” she said, apparently unable to let things go. “I would so prefer it to be Friday. Speaking of which!”

Ah, a segue.

“My fiancé and a friend of ours are going out this Friday for drinks, probably a little dancing too. Wanna come?” Erica went on, smiling that she wanted to see Stiles six drinks in and trying to do the electric slide.

“I usually hang out with my besties on Friday night. It’s our game night.” Among their other game nights. Really all they did was play games together. Sometimes they went to the movies, but mostly they were just lazy shits.

“Bring them with you,” Erica suggested, continuing to tap her nails. “The more the merrier and all the shit.”

Stiles let out a startled laugh at her being abruptly crass. “Okay, I’ll see if they want to go.” It sounded like a good time, and Stiles would get to meet the man that was engaged and thus tethered to Erica. He had to be a nice guy.


"Were you good for me today?" Stiles asked as Derek let him into his bedroom. He crowded him up against the door, touching the buttons of his shirt. "You didn’t sneak to the bathroom and rub one out, right?"

"No," Derek murmured slowly, before he took in a deep breath of air. "I was good."

"I bet you experienced low grade arousal all day, huh?" Stiles probed with a grin, fingers undoing the top button of Derek’s shirt. "But you waited, even when the plug pressed against your prostate. You waited, because you're a good boy. My good boy."

Derek shuddered as Stiles ran his fingers over his neck, letting out a shaky sigh. "Yes, yours," he said, and it sounded like it took some effort, like he was restraining himself. Stiles would have been on edge too if he’d had something rubbing around inside him all day long. He had no idea how Derek managed it, because Stiles would not have the self control to keep from playing with it.

“C’mere, you,” Stiles said, pulling him toward the bed by his shirt collar. “I’ve been thinking about this all day.” That made Derek smile, almost in surprise, so Stiles kissed him square on the mouth. As he licked over Derek’s teeth, his hands opened Derek’s shirt and jacket, exposing skin that he could caress and scratch, drawing quivers from the other man. He pushed the shirt and jacket off of his broad shoulders, letting them fall to the floor.

Turning them about, Stiles pushed Derek to sit on the edge of the bed, before he bent over to make quick work of his shoes and socks. Derek curled and spread his toes, and dammit, that was cute. Not allowed. He undid the front of Derek’s pants, tugging them down as Derek obediently lifted his hips. He wasn’t surprised to find Derek already hard and leaking. He must have been like that for ages. Like this, Derek’s heavy balls hid the prize behind them, and Stiles gave Derek’s hip a gentle smack.

“Scoot back and turn over for me,” Stiles said as he straightened up and started pulling his own shirt off. He needed to be naked right then.

Derek turned as instructed and crawled up the bed, the plug like a sinful black spot among so much perfect skin, undulating as that wonderful ass shifted. Then Derek laid down, folding his arms under his head as he spread his legs wide like an offering.

Stiles fought not to drool all over the place at the sight. That was just for him, no one else. Once he was naked, he knee-walked his way between Derek’s spread legs, before he laid his hands on Derek’s lower back. Derek drew in a sudden breath, back tensing for a moment before he relaxed again.

“Fuck, if you could see the picture you make,” he said, his voice almost a whisper as he dragged his hands down and spread Derek’s ass cheeks wide.

He just watched as Derek moaned and clenched around the plug, making it shift up and down slightly. Stiles gave this lecherous grin, far too pleased with himself because this was all his idea. He was a total genius.

Stiles grabbed the base of the plug and twisted it, pulling a shocked noise from Derek as his hole was tugged. Stiles licked his lips, turning the plug this way and that and listening to the chorus of Derek’s moans, watching him grip spasmodically at the covers and push back against Stiles’s hand. Stiles gave the plug a little pull, but Derek’s ass had it gripped tight. He touched the stretched skin of Derek’s hole, finding it rather dry. Stiles should have known that the lube would have worn off.

“I’m not hurting you, am I?” he asked, concerned now as he leaned around Derek’s backside to look at his face.

“Feels good,” Derek murmured, opening his eyes to give Stiles this lustful look with his pupils blown huge.

“Oh,” Stiles said, wondering if he was actually causing pain but Derek liked it. “Well, I don’t want you to tear, so I’m going to add more lube,” he announced, before he went for the nightstand, fishing the bottle out.

“‘Kay,” Derek breathed out, swallowing.

Stiles set to work getting Derek wet again, that way he could twist the plug with ease, drawing long sounds from Derek’s throat. He pushed the plug in as far as it would go and was rewarded with Derek clenching down. When he relaxed, Stiles angled the plug down and pushed, drawing a stuttering whimper from the man.

“I bet you could come from just this, couldn’t you?” Stiles asked, smiling as Derek flexed his fingers in the covers and whined. “You’ve been turned on all day, and you can’t wait to come. Well, you’ll have to be patient. The longer it takes, the sweeter it will be.” He just grinned as Derek let out this distressed sound. “Are you willing to wait? I’ll make it so good for you.”

“Yes, sir, please,” Derek whined, turning his face into the pillow.

“Flip over for me,” Stiles said, pulling his hand away. “I want to see your face and I take you apart.” He shifted back so he wouldn’t be whacked by a leg.

Derek turned, looking like it took far more energy than it should have. He settled on his back and grabbed his legs under the knees, pulling them up so he put himself on display without even being prompted. Stiles thanked whatever deity he was in the good graces of and reached to take hold of the plug and pull.

“Ngh, fuck,” Derek gasped, putting his head back as the plug was slowly, so slowly, drawn out of his body. His hole stretched wide on the bulbous body of the plug, looking pink and dirty, before it slid off the tip and was left gaping wide.

Stiles watched as Derek’s ass winked closed a moment as Derek clenched his muscles, before he relaxed again. “Shit,” he whispered, and it was the highest of praise. Quickly Stiles slicked up his fingers and replaced the plug with them, in awe at how easy Derek’s body took them, with little more than a sigh. "Jesus, Derek."

Derek's leg twitched as Stiles rubbed over that place inside of him, jumping a little before Derek pulled it higher. How Derek’s arms weren't tired from holding himself on display, Stiles didn't know, but he liked the view. He grazed over Derek’s prostate for a minute or two, watching as Derek’s breath came quicker and his abs were bunching.

"Are you close?" Stiles asks, withdrawing his hand to play with the loose and puffy skin of Derek's hole. He got a whimper and a nod as Derek came back from the brink. So Stiles teased him him a while before going back to massaging him inside. He waited until Derek was trembling, before he pulled his hand back again and started to toy with his taint.

Derek whined, writhing a little, before he dropped his legs and let them sprawl out. "Stiles," he whined high, digging his feet into the bed and trying to can't his hips in a way that would make Stiles's hand go where he wanted. "Please, I can't--" He cut himself off with a soft sound of frustration.

"You can, and you will," Stiles told him sharply, pressing his fingers inside of him again. Derek cried out and arched his back. "You're doing so well, just a little longer."

Derek's dick was a rigid, angry red length, leaking a small pool of precome into Derek’s happy trail. Stiles waited until it was jumping before he drew back again. He smiled at the violent sound Derek made, watching him pant and come back from the edge one last time.

Stiles smiled down at him, waiting until Derek’s eyes opened again, irises gone. "You are perfect," he said, and Derek made a desperate little noise. "And you're all mine." He shifted up onto his knees so he could leaned forward on his hand and catch Derek's lips in a burning kiss, biting and licking. Derek just went with it, passively opening up to Stiles’s questing tongue.

Stiles pulled away after a hot minute, giving the other man a bright smile. "You've been so good. You deserve to be rewarded." He didn't answer Derek’s questioning mewl, instead grabbing onto Derek’s dick with one hand and pressing three lubed fingers inside of him, aiming right for his prostate.

Derek jolted like his body was struck like an electric current, back snapping into an arch and fingers clawing at the covers. He didn't bother being quiet, crying out every time Stiles nailed his prostate or twisted his fist at the head of his cock. He jerked and writhed, looking like he was going to implode from the pleasure. But still he didn't come.

"Sir, puh--please," Derek begged, alternating between fucking up into Stiles's fist and down on his fingers, a rapid, desperate movement.

"Yeah," Stiles breathed out, entranced by this beautiful creature that he had at his fingertips. "Come for me."

Derek didn't need anymore prompting, coming over his stomach, chest and Stiles's hand. His ass clenched six--no, seven times around Stiles’s fingers, impossibly tight for how stretched he had been, before his whole body sagged like his bones had turned to goo.

Stiles watched Derek come back to himself for long moments, his heaving chest slowing down and his panting lips closing as he started to breathe through his nose. He licked his lips and opened his eyes, finding Stiles and giving a little smile.

"Hey you," Stiles said, shifting so he was next to Derek instead of between his sprawled legs. "Was I right about the waiting?" He gently cupped Derek’s cheek.

Derek turned his face into the contact. "Yeah," he said, voice hoarse from all the crying out. He nuzzled his nose into Stiles’s wrist a bit, before his eyes traveled down Stiles's body, coming to rest where his cock was sticking up. He looked back up at Stiles's face. "Let me make you come too," he said, shifting closer.

Stiles wasn’t going to argue with that. "What did you have in mind?" he asked, pretty sure he knew by the way Derek licked his lips.

"I want to suck you," Derek said, voice low and gravelly in a way that made Stiles's toes tingle. "I want you to come in my throat, want to swallow it, please. Can I?"

"Yeah, you can totally do that," Stiles said in a rush, a little awed that Derek liked sucking dick that much and was so eager to please, but Stiles wasn't going to question his blessings. “How do you want me?” He stroked his thumb over Derek’s furry jawline.

For a second Derek looked indecisive, like he hadn’t been expecting to be given any sort of choice. But he just licked his lips again and shifted down the bed so there was a good foot and a half between his head and the top of the bed.

Stiles got the message pretty fast, wobbling on his knees so he was over Derek’s head, facing the man’s stomach. “Hand,” Stiles said, and Derek offered his hand, which Stiles took and laid it on his thigh. “You know the drill, tap out if you need to.” Then he guided his dick into Derek’s mouth.

Derek set to work immediately, hollowing his cheeks and flicking his tongue as Stiles began to thrust. It was so good, even better when Derek grabbed his other leg and pulled on him to speed up. He drew Stiles into his throat over and over, and Stiles was getting dizzy from the pleasure at the visual of Derek’s neck working extra hard. Derek’s Adam’s apple bobbed like it was getting punched, and oh God.

“Derek, Derek, I’m gonna--I’m so close--” Stiles gasped, scratching at the covers on either side of Derek’s broad chest.

With the grip on Stiles’s thighs, Derek pulled him in so far that his nose was nestled against Stiles’s balls, swallowing around the head of his dick. Stiles let out a shocked noise, hips hitching as he came down Derek’s throat.

"Fuck," was Stiles’s masterful opinion, and and he slowly pulled back out of Derek’s throat and mouth all together. He panted down at him as Derek coughed a couple times and rubbed at his neck. "You're awesome." Derek gave a tight smile at that, before he sat up. "No, I'm serious. I'm not saying that because you give good head, which you do. I think you're just generally an awesome person."

Derek stared at Stiles for a few heartbeats, before this smile spread his lips, one that was genuine and warm. "Thanks."

Stiles opened his mouth to say more, to praise Derek more, but his stomach made this awful and loud growling rumble. Stiles could feel his cheeks heat up as he covered his belly with his hands, laughing sheepishly.

"Hungry?" Derek asked, looking amused.

"I guess I am," Stiles conceded.

Derek scooted off the bed and pulled on his underwear. "I'll make dinner."

"You spoil me," Stiles told him, and Derek just gave him a smile over his shoulder.

Derek made lasagna, and it was so good that Stiles had three pieces.

Derek walked him to the door after dinner, and Stiles was feeling full and content, ready to go home and plop into his bed. "I guess I'll see you tomorrow?" he asked with a smile.

"Yeah," Derek replied, sounding distracted, so Stiles paused and waited for him to say whatever was on his mind. Derek licked his lips. "You know, if you wanted, you could stay the night sometime."

Stiles's eyebrows went up. "Really?"

Derek's eyes flicked away, unsure. "If you wanted."

"I do," Stiles assured him, smiling when Derek looked at his eyes again. "Not tonight though. I don't have any clothes. I'll pack a go bag to keep in my Jeep for next time this happens."

"Okay," Derek replied, nodding. "Goodnight, Stiles."

"Goodnight, Derek," Stiles said, before he gave Derek a peck on the lips and out the door he went.


Stiles and Derek didn't get to meet again that week because Derek got busy with a big case again and was taking his work home with him. That was fine with Stiles. It wasn't like the overnight bag in his backseat was going to expire. So Friday rolled around, and it was time to go out with Erica.

She'd been texting him excitedly all day, saying that Stiles better take a cab because she was going to get him hammered. She was also going to beat his ass at pool. It wouldn't be hard; last time he'd played he whacked himself in the face with the stick. Maybe he could convince her to play quarters. He was decent at that.

He changed out of his work clothes and dressed casually in just some jeans with a graphic tee and his worn red hoodie. He met Scott and Kira in the living room. Scott was dressed much like Stiles, but Kira had on a short black dress with Avengers leggings. "Are you trying to out cute us?" Stiles asked, making his envy known, and Kira just giggled at him.

They all piled into a cab, and Stiles gave the driver the address that Erica had texted him. The bar looked almost like a dive, but it was also charming in its own way. After being carded, they walked in, and Stiles spotted Erica waving at them from a place at the bar. She was with a tall, broad black man and another dude with curly hair.

"Hey," Erica said when they drew closer. "I'm glad you could make it. This is Boyd, my fiancé. Boyd is his last name, and that's what everyone calls him but me. I have exclusive rights to call his Vernon."

Boyd offered his hand, and Stiles, Scott and Kira all shook it in turn. He seemed like that strong, silent type if his polite but kind of empty smile and firm handshake were anything to go by.

“And this is Isaac,” Erica went on, gesturing to her friend, who was wearing a scarf even though it wasn’t really that cold out.

Isaac did a little wave and let out a soft “Hey.”

“Hey,” Stiles said, waving back. “I’m Stiles. These are my friends, Scott and Kira.” He indicated to them both, and they moved forward for handshaking too.

“Now that introductions are out of the way!” Erica chirped, lunging forward to take Stiles’s arm and turning him toward the bar. “How many jager bombs can you do before you throw up?”

“Uh, I don’t know,” he said, worried by the way Erica’s face split into a Cheshire-like grin.
“Let’s find out!”

Thus began a night that Stiles wouldn’t remember all of. There were many drinks between all six of them, none of them too concerned with staying lucid since they were all taking cabs home. Isaac held back more than anyone else, and he suggested a friendly game of darts with a wager. Being under the influence as he was, Stiles was pretty sure that his hand-eye coordination got better with the liquor sloshing around in his belly. They bet five dollars on the first game, and Stiles won, so he suggested they up the ante to $20.

Isaac destroyed him.

“I just got hustled!” Stiles squealed, red in the face and swaying a bit. Erica put a shot in his hand, and he downed it with indignance, before he shook the empty glass at Isaac. “You, with your big doe eyes and--and your magnificent jaw! Were you carved out of marble or something? I see what you are now! Acting all innocent. You’re a be-scarfed devil.”

Isaac just stood there and took Stiles’s wobbly but righteously angry rebuking. “I like you, Stiles,” he said, making a show of shoving the money Stiles just lost into his wallet.

“Fuuuuck you, sir,” Stiles hissed at him, before he pawed at his side until someone handed him a drink. He took a deep swig of what tasted like sour apple. He blinked at the extra sweet drink in his hand, before he sloppily ran his tongue around the rim to get the sugar.

“You guys should, you know,” Erica said as she leaned on a pool cue. She and Kira were having a girls only competition that was less trying to get the balls in the holes as it was trying to keep the balls off the floor.

“What’chu talking?” Stiles slurred at her.

“You and Isaac,” she said, giggling as she pointed to them in turn. “You should totally fuck. Then you should fall in love and we can all go on triple dates!”

Stiles and Isaac looked at each other, and Stiles would have been offended by Isaac’s look of distaste if he weren’t making the exact same face.

“Uh, yeah, I don’t think that’s gonna happen there, drunkie,” Stiles said, pretty much the pot calling the kettle black.

“Aww,” Erica whined.

“Too bad you didn’t invite Derek,” Scott chimed in, looking sleepy and happy. “Then it would have been a triple date plus one.” He seemed overjoyed with his input.

Stiles whirled toward him, sloshing appletini everywhere. The floors were already sticky. It was fine. He gave his friend this horrified look of disbelief, and Scott blinked at him. “Dude,” Stiles spat like Scott had just stabbed him in the back like Brutus.

Erica let out this high-pitched noise that would probably have dogs howling if they were outside. “You are doing the boss!” she squealed, nearly smacking Kira with her cue.

Stiles heaved a sigh and turned to glare at his friend. “Thanks, Scott.”

Scott had his hand over his mouth, brown eyes huge and guilty. “I forgot it was a secret!” he whisper-yelled through his fingers. “My bad!”

“You’re fired.” Glaring at Scott like he might set him on fire with his gaze, Stiles thought about how to contain the damage. It was hard to think when he was drunk as shit, but he turned to Erica and put on his imploring face. “Uh, is there anyway I can convince you not to tell anybody?”

Erica grinned at him, and there was evil there. “I dunno. What is it worth to you?”

Stiles let out a whine.

She held his gaze a couple moments more, before she threw her head back and cackled like a person that owned flying monkeys. “I’m not gonna tell anyone, silly,” she told him, grabbing his face and smooshing his cheeks together so he made a fishy face. “But I want details.”

“What do you want to know?” he asked, voice going all funny because he was still in her clutches.

She released his face and threw her arms around his shoulders, which she probably only accomplished because she had heels on. “What’s it like to date Derek Hale? Is he romantic? Is he smooth? Does he buy you chocolate and roses? Does he give you massages with hot oil?”

Stiles’s shoulder sagged. “We’re not dating, Erica. We just have sex sometimes. It’s nothing significant.” For some reason that actually hurt to say. He would have liked to say what he and Derek shared was special, but it wasn’t a relationship. They were just fuck buddies with handcuffs.

Erica frowned too, staring at his face. “Aww, now you’ve gone and made me sad,” she said, her pretty face all screwed up with concern and disappointment.

“Tell me about it,” Stiles grumbled.

Erica’s face shifted to sympathy, and she patted his shoulder. “You need more shots.”

Stiles didn’t remember what ever happened afterward, but he managed to get home and into his own bed, where he woke up on the covers coated in sweat with a mouth that tasted like dead bodies.


After a sweaty, breathtaking round of sex and chicken alfredo for dinner, Stiles stood under the spray of Derek’s shower and let his tiredness take his body. It loosened his muscles and made his bones sag. By the time he was out of the shower, he was ready to be one with something soft. He made a cursory attempt at drying his hair, before he pulled on some clean undies and walked out into the bedroom.

Derek was sitting on the bed, his phone in his hand, tapping with his thumbs.

“Checking your Facebook?” Stiles asked teasingly as he got under the covers and got comfortable. He thought he’d feel some apprehension staying over at Derek’s for the night, but all he felt was warm and cozy.

“Just making a note to check something at work tomorrow,” Derek said, before he set his phone on the nightstand and swung his legs up onto the bed. “I don’t have a Facebook.”

“Wow, what a shocker,” Stiles deadpanned, and Derek snorted. “It’s probably for the best. You seem like the kind of guy that would get obsessed with Farmville.”

“I have no idea what that is,” Derek said, pulling the covers over his legs and turning to plop down half on top of Stiles, his arm thrown over him and his face in his neck.

Stiles’s comeback died in his throat with a grunt at the impact, before he blinked at the ceiling. He’d thought Derek would keep his distance, but here he was being an octopus. “Who would have thought that Derek Hale is a cuddler?” he asked the room.

Derek huffed out a sigh, a warm puff across Stiles’s neck. “Only with you.”

Well that made Stiles’s tummy all tingly. He wrapped his arm around Derek and turned his head to nuzzle at his hair. “You’re sweet. This means you trust me, right?” Derek nodded into his neck. “Does this mean you trust me enough to tell me about your past doms?”

“I don’t want to talk about anything. I want to sleep,” Derek grumbled.

“Okay, okay,” Stiles relented, holding him a little tighter in case he wanted to pull away. “But I’m not going to stop asking. It’s important.”

Derek was quiet for a long time, and Stiles just thought he was done with the conversation, before he said, soft in the darkness, “I’ll tell you someday.”

Chapter Text

Stiles came out of his dream slowly, visions of being chased by a horse made out of pineapples fading away into barely a memory. He blinked in the dim morning light filtering in through thin black curtains, wondering what time it was. It wasn't often he woke up before his alarm. Maybe it was because he really had to piss.

He tried to sit up and found himself pinned to the bed. He glanced down and saw Derek spread across his front, holding him down. Oh. Right. Derek the cuddle octopus. He shifted a little to the right, trying to gauge whether or not he could get out from under Derek and to the bathroom without waking him. He managed the first movement, so he attempted to scoot further the second time.

Then Derek made this noise. It was like a kitten mewing after being poked while it was asleep. He then snuffled and turned his face further into Stiles’s chest.

Stiles couldn't help the "Aww!" that burst from his mouth at the sheer cuteness that was Derek at that moment.

Unfortunately the sound roused Derek from his sleep too. He lifted his head and blinked sleeping green eyes, looking at Stiles before looking at the bedside table where the clock was. He had serious bedhead, and it was absolutely precious. "Mmf," was his general opinion, and he dropped his head on Stiles’s chest again.

"Not a morning person?" Stiles asked with a snort. Derek just shook his head then sighed, and the air over his collar bone tickled. "As much as I adore being snuggled to death, I really gotta pee."

Derek grunted, before he rolled over to put his back to Stiles, taking the covers with him and pulling them up to his ears as he curled up. Stiles resisted the urge to ruffle his wild black mop of hair, sitting up and swinging himself off the bed to go relieve himself. When he got back, Derek was in the same spot, and Stiles started to climb up onto the bed to go in for more cuddles.

But then Derek’s alarm started to go off, followed almost immediately by Stiles’s. Stiles grabbed his phone as Derek pushed himself up and smacked his clock. They looked at each other, sharing a gaze of tired longing to be lazy for the rest of the day. But no, they needed to go to work.

Derek scratched at his beard. "Pancakes or waffles?" he asked, scooting off the bed and standing up.

Stiles deliberated this life changing decision a moment. "Uh, pancakes," he decided, getting up as well. "I thought you didn't eat sugar in the morning."

"I don't. I eat my pancakes dry," Derek said, stretching his arms over his head with his back to Stiles, so he got a nice view of his tattoo rippling.

“Of course you do.” Stiles made a face, unable to even imagine that. "Weirdo," he accused, and Derek snorted in response.

Thankfully Derek actually had syrup. For guests, he said, pulling the plastic safety seal off. Stiles wasn’t sure if he was sad or not that he was the first to use Derek’s syrup. He used half of it to compensate.


Wednesdays were boring for Stiles. Derek always worked from home that night, so there was no crazy sex to be had. Scott was working a double at the vet clinic, covering an emergency hours shift for a coworker, and Kira had gone to bed really early because she had to be up at dawn. So Stiles was left to his own devices, which meant he was lying on his bed and listening to his Pandora playlist. He tapped his fingers to Pentatonix and tried to think of something productive to do. Other than watch a whole season of Shameless US.

He looked around for inspiration, eyes sliding over the Firefly and Doctor Who posters on the walls, the Justice League and Avengers figures on his shelves, and the bookcase filled with the entire Discworld saga, organized by series of course. With a sigh, Stiles moved on, his eyes landing on his desk, which was a mess. His messenger bag was there, looking innocuous, but Stiles lifted up on his elbows as he considered it. Then he smiled, an idea popping into his head.

Getting up, Stiles went over to the messenger bag and pulled out Derek’s kink survey. They had traded them a month prior, and while Stiles had given it a looksie to learn Derek’s dislikes and hard limits, he hadn’t looked it over since. That needed to change. He wasn’t a good dom if he didn’t do his research.

He sat down at his desk and dug around in the drawers for a highlighter. He came across quite a few things in his search, like the Legend of Zelda sword letter opener Scott got him for Christmas. He took a moment to poke his finger several times, not sure how sharp it was. As it turned out, pretty sharp. He sucked on his finger as he continued searching for a freaking highlighter.

The one he found was neon pink, and he stared at it a moment as he wondered where it had come from. “Huh,” he said with a shrug, before he pulled the cap off with his teeth. Time to get down to business.

Of course Derek was into anal play and anal sex, but Stiles was a little surprised to find that he had 5s--for love it--circled next to all the different types of beatings. Canes, crops, floggers, hairbrushes, paddles, spanking, straps and whips. He wanted both hard and soft. Stiles had done paddling and spanking, but that was it. He’d seen the other implements in Derek’s hidden room, so maybe he’d have to give them a go.

As for where Derek liked to be beat, he had Beating Location - Bottom circled and Beating Location - Back crossed out. He and Derek hadn’t really discussed doing any beating scenes, but Stiles had assumed his back would be fair game. Stiles stared at the survey, pulling his lips from side to side. Maybe he would just have to ask. It looked like Derek’s thighs, calves and feet were open to beatings though.

Derek was down for biting, so Stiles would have to implement more of that. Same went for blindfolds. Derek had absolutely zero interest in body modification, which didn’t surprise Stiles at all. He wasn’t sure why he even left that on the list when he was taking stuff out.

On to bondage! There was plenty to learn there. Derek was into both light and heavy bondage, so Stiles would have to break out the cuffs and rope. Derek was not into intricate bondage, but then Stiles had very little interest or patience in tying knots for two hours.

For Breath Play, Derek had circled a 3, which meant he could be into it if Stiles’s was. Stiles wasn’t sure if he was. He’d done some light choking for one of his subs, but it had been more like just holding her neck than actually squeezing.

Stiles continued down the list until he got to Clothing - Lingerie. Derek had circled Curious. Stiles bit his lip and highlighted the whole column, making an extra special note in his head. He was definitely interested in seeing Derek in silk and lace. The man would be so hot.

The next item on the list was Collars - Private. Derek had a 5 for this one, and there was even a note from him that said ‘I have my own collar already.’ Collars - Public was crossed out.

Face Slapping was a go, but Stiles already knew that. It was marked with a 4, so Stiles would have to look for more reasons to smack Derek across the face if he liked it so much.

Derek had a 3 circled for Fisting - Anal and a note that said ‘I haven’t done it since college.’ Stiles let out an ugly piggy snort of laughter at that, making plans to spend some quality time with Derek’s ass.

When it came to gagging, Derek seemed to prefer ball gags. Stiles rather liked the ring gags, but if Derek wasn’t into it, he wasn’t going to mention it. He wanted this to be all about Derek, after all, had been from the start.

Next was handjobs! Everyone was a fan.

Derek was into kneeling and leashes, so Stiles was having all kinds of fantasies of having his good boy collared and on his knees. It was a beautiful mental sight.

Licking and massages needed to be distributed all around in Stiles’s opinion. He loved the way Derek tasted, always a bit like lingering soap and cologne and then, after a while, salty sweat. And Stiles loved molding Derek’s muscles under his hands, feeling all the tension leak out of him as he went boneless and pliant.

Stiles smiled when he noticed Derek had a 5 for Nipple Play. Stiles loved playing with Derek’s nipples. He started to squirm and whine like he didn’t know what to do with himself when Stiles sucked and twisted them.

Stiles could do Orgasm Control and Orgasm Denial, and Derek was very much into both.

Next was the many types of sensation play. Of the ten types, Derek was only interested in four: hair pulling, hot wax, ice and scratching. Stiles highlighted hot wax, because he needed to make a note to get some candles. Special ones with a low melting point that wouldn’t actually cause severe burns.

Next on the agenda was the different types of sex toys that they could play with. Stiles already knew that Derek liked toys by the look of his treasure trove. He had 5s next to beads, butt plugs, dildos, public (under clothes), and vibrators. Stiles wondered how many toys he could use on Derek before the man begged him for release.

At the next item, Stiles paused and stared. Derek was into Sounding? He had to admit that he’d yet to have the opportunity to practice that with anyone. It had never come up. He wondered if Derek had a set of sounding rods. He must have if he had a 5 next to the act. Humming in consideration, he highlighted the column. If Derek wanted it…

The last item on the survey was Wrestling, which Derek had a 5 circled for. Stiles smiled as he remembered the last time Derek had made him work for it, how they’d rolled around on the bed, laughing. It had taken a bit, since Derek was strong as shit, but Stiles had pinned him, sitting on his stomach and holding his hands above his head. They had stayed there like that, breathing hard and grinning at each other.

Now that that was finished, Stiles looked over his handiwork, seeing how much pink he had on the survey. There was quite a bit, but that just meant that Stiles and Derek would have plenty to spice up their sex lives for a while. You had to keep things interesting with a secret affair, after all.

Stiles went to grab some Lucky Charms for dinner then sat in front of his computer and researched the proper practice of sounding for a good hour. There was a lot to learn actually, and Stiles was always one for inhaling knowledge. After that, he looked up some instructional videos for caning, wincing as he watched a lady get punished from the middle of her back to the soles of her feet.

He walked into the kitchen while drinking the milk out of his bowl, his mind a buzz. He was excited for the next time that he and Derek met. He was kind of always excited, because who didn’t like amazing sex? But this time he was much more enthused. He had some crazy awesome stuff planned.


After work the next day, Stiles did some research on local sex shops. He found one pretty close to his apartment complex with good reviews for cleanliness and variety of stock. He asked Scott and Kira if they wanted to make an excursion to a sex shop, and they both started to giggle like the mature adults they were.

"On second thought, nevermind," Stiles said as he glared. "I don't trust you two not to start dueling with dildos." He turned and left with their laughter following him out. Assholes.

The shop was called Victoria's and it looked nice from the outside. When he went in, he got carded by a friendly attendant. It made him smile that he still looked sixteen even though he was in his twenties. It would come in handy later.

The shop was pretty standard. There was a wall of costumes and lingerie, including expensive looking corsets. Stiles spent a few minutes giggling over the sexy male superhero outfits. They were little more than thongs and capes, to be honest, so it was nice to see the nudity was even between the men and women.

On the other side of the store were the sex toys or 'novelty items.' He looked at the dildos and vibrators for a little while, avoiding the ones without bases because he didn't want anything to travel backwards through his intestines. There was a really nice, high end tie dye silicone dildo that caught his eye, but he didn't want to pay over $80 for it when he could get it online for $40. He took note of the brand and vowed to look it up later.

Finally Stiles found the shelves of smaller items. There was flavored lube (which had glycerin in it, so no way), body chocolate, lollipops that looked like boobs and dicks, and the candles he was searching for. There was a rainbow of colors to choose from, and Stiles very seriously deliberated as he tapped his chin. What colors would look best decorating Derek’s perfect skin? What did he want to see coating those dusky nipples?

He went with purple and red.

Figuring he should leave before he was tempted to buy sour apple condoms, Stiles turned toward the register area and almost ran smack dab into a redheaded woman. "Oh shit, sorry, I wasn't--" He paused when she turned to look at him. "Lydia?"

Lydia blinked at him, before she smiled. "Hey Stiles. Haven't seen you in a while."

"Yeah, I haven't been able to make it to the club." Because Derek wanted him all to himself, and Stiles wasn’t going to deny him. "Fancy meeting you here though," he added with a grinned.

She nodded in agreement. "I don't really frequent sex shops since I can get everything online, but sometimes I like to feel what I'm getting, you know?" She looked down at her hands where she was holding an expensive looking black dildo.

"I feel you," Stiles said, holding up the candles he'd picked out. "I could get these online for a fraction of the price, but I don't want to wait."

"Hey Lyds, what about this?" asked a brunette as she stepped up, holding a tight and short black dress with a plunging neckline. She smiled when she noticed Stiles. “Hello,” she said as Lydia took the dress.

"Hi," Stiles replied, smiling back.

Lydia seemed to realize that there was awkward silence happening and looked up, glancing between them. "Oh! I have misplaced my manners. Stiles, this is my girlfriend, Allison. Allison, this is Stiles. We met at the club."

“Oh!” Allison chirped, grinning larger now. “It’s nice to meet you, Stiles.”

“You too.”

“So speaking of the club,” Lydia said, and that were probably her devious smile. “Haven’t seen you around since that one time, Stiles. Are you bored of us already?”

Chuckling, Stiles rubbed the back of his neck with his free hand. "Nah, the club's great, but my current sub isn't really into the public stuff." Derek had said they could go to the club every once and a while, but Stiles knew he'd only said that because Stiles might want to. But what Stiles really wanted was for Derek to be as comfortable and happy as possible.

"Oh, you have a regular sub now?" Lydia asked, looking genuinely happy for him. "What are they like?"

Stiles’s smile changed when he thought about Derek, turning soft. “They’re great, so different than what I first thought. I mean, in the beginning, I had no idea even we were even compatible, because he was kind of a dick to me, but now it’s cool.” He paused. “I mean, it’s a secret, but that’s okay. Discretion is fine.”

Lydia stared at him, narrowing her eyes. “It’s not that guy you told me about, right? Your boss?”

Stiles suddenly felt like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar. He had gotten so used to his and Derek’s arrangement that he’d forgotten how it would look to other people. He flicked his eyes around then said, very slowly, “Yeeeeah.”

Lydia sighed and tilted her head. “Stiles,” she tried, but Allison grabbed her arm.

“Lydia, it’s his business,” Allison said, and Lydia pouted at her. “Let the man make his own decisions.”

Lydia let out a dramatically loud sigh, before she threw her hands up. “Okay, fine, ruin your life,” she said, before she smiled at him. “Convince your boy toy to go to the club, okay?”

“So you can give him dirty looks?” Stiles asked, knowing she was just teasing.

“I can draw my eyebrows down into an arrow. Perfect for intimidation.” She demonstrated, and yeah, that was a little scary.

Stiles was grinning anyway. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

“No, but really,” Lydia went on, slapping him on the shoulder. “Free drinks if you can get your recluse of a sub to show his face at the club. I’m not above bribery.”

Giggling now, Stiles shook his head. “I’m going to go buy these now,” he said, lifting the candles and wiggling them in the air. “I’ll talk to Derek.” He walked past them, shaking his head and smiling.


Stiles swung the blindfold in a loop around his finger as he stood on the bed, his feet on either side of Derek’s hips. Derek was naked, gazing up at him through half-lidded eyes. Stiles was down to his boxers, but that would probably change soon.

“Oh the things I have planned for you tonight,” Stiles said with a grin, before he went down to his knees, straddling Derek’s chest. “First, I want you to wear this.” He snapped the band of the blindfold. “Then I want run ice along your sexy chest.” He went down on one hand, looming over derek’s head. “And then when you’re next and cold, I’m going to drip hot wax on you and make pretty designs.” He grinned as Derek swallowed thickly. “Yay or nay?”

Derek nodded rapidly, licking his lips. “Yes.”

Stiles dropped the blindfold and touched Derek’s cheek, running his fingertips through the fur. “But first,” he began, pulling his bottom lip through his teeth and lowering his eyelids. “Where are your sounding rods?”

Derek let out a little dying animal sound.

After Stiles had grabbed the rods and Derek picked the one he wanted, he snatched up the lube and settled on Derek’s thighs. “So, I watched about fifty videos of sounding since we last met,” he said as he slowly jacked Derek to hardness, making him ready for the sound.

“Did you?” Derek asked, sounding a bit breathy.

“Yeah, it’s my thing. Obsessive research. It’s nothing compared to the real thing though.” Stiles leaned down and swipe his tongue over the head of Derek’s cock, earning a soft sigh. “Ready?” When Derek nodded, biting his lips together, Stiles lifted the sound and started to slather it with lube. He was generous with it, maybe even outlandishly so, but there was no such thing as too much lube.

Stiles felt a moment of trepidation as he poised the rod over Derek’s dick, the rounded point just barely touching the slit. Because he was insane, he’d also Googled ‘sounding gone wrong’. There was a reason no one used glass rods for sounding anymore. Even though the one in his hand was stainless steel and nigh on impossible to bend let alone break, he was worried he was going to hurt Derek.

But Derek had no such hesitation. When Stiles didn’t move, he lifted his hand and set it on Stiles’s. “It’s okay,” he told him, before he gave his hand a little push. The sound breached his cock, and Derek shuddered, dropping his hand.

“Wow, okay, so this is happening,” Stiles said, taking in a steadying breath. He kept going, glacially probably, and he kept glancing between Derek’s dick and face. “Am I going too fast?” he couldn’t help but ask.

“No,” Derek breathed out. He was gripping the covers lightly.

Stiles was actually surprised at the ease of this. He’d assumed stretching out a urethra would have more resistance. “Does it hurt?” was his next question.

“A little,” Derek replied in the way people moan yes. “It’s supposed to.”

“Oh,” Stiles replied, mesmerized both Derek’s reaction and how his cock was swallowing the rod. “I’m not stabbing you, right? You’d tell me if I was doing it wrong?”

“There’s only one way to do it,” Derek murmured, and he sounded impatient. He was probably used to sticking sounds in his dick in seconds.

Stiles seemed to be almost there, at least he thought he was. He hadn’t taken any measurements. “How do I know when I reach the end?” he asked, right as the sound met some barrier. Derek grunted, his abs crunching up. “Oh, that’s how.” Stiles released the sound and watched Derek’s dick bob with the sound lodged firmly in it.

“How’s that?” Stiles asked, poking the end of the rod and earning a groan in response. “Ready to continue?” At Derek’s nod, he picked up the blindfold and slid it over Derek’s head, fitting it snugly across his eyes. “I’ll be right back.”

In hindsight, Stiles probably shouldn’t have run down the stairs, but he only fell down some of them, so it was all good. He went into the kitchen, pulling a bowl out of the cabinet then grabbing a few ice cubes from the freezer. He didn’t sprint back up the stairs, only because his butt was still smarting.

“I’m back,” Stiles said as he entered the room and walked over to the bed, climbing back onto it and settling on Derek’s thighs. Derek’s dick looked obscene, laying against his stomach while being shiny with lube.

Picking up one of the slippery ice cubes, Stiles let it drip on Derek’s stomach, which he sucked in with a gasp, unprepared for the cold. Stiles just grinned, setting the tip of the ice cube against Derek’s skin and starting to draw swirls along his abs and up his chest. He circled Derek’s nipples and licked his lips as they pebbled. Derek was starting to make these little noises, arching into the sensation as much as he pulling away from it, like his body didn’t know what to do.

Stiles liked Derek like this, so responsive. He continued to make cold patterns across Derek’s chest until the ice cube was melted. Stiles dragged his fingers through the wetness of Derek’s front, feeling him breathe. He grabbed another piece of ice, and then another when that one with melted. Soon he was out of ice and derek was dripping, wetting the sheet under him.

“Should’ve put a towel down,” Stiles said, thumbing Derek’s nipples.

“It’s okay,” Derek whispered, breathing slow and deep like he was near sleep, certainly very relaxed. It was a perfect state.

Stiles reached over and grabbed the red candle and the lighter, lighting the wick and holding it up as the wax on the tip turned shiny. He slowly tipped it and watched a red droplet fall onto Derek’s chest, right above his nipple.

“Fuck!” Derek cried, bucking in surprise and almost throwing Stiles off.

“Oh shit,” Stiles laughed as Derek settled back down. “You okay?”

Derek nodded, shifting back into the position he’d been in before. “It just surprised me.”

“Is that a bad thing?” Stiles asked, and Derek quickly shook his head no. “Color?”

“Green,” Derek replied, his cock twitching to second that motion.

Stiles grinned and held up the candle again, setting about the task to make pretty designs all over Derek’s front. He watched droplet after droplet splat on that perfect skin, melding with chest and tummy hair, until there was barely an inch of candle left. Then he blew it out and set the nub on the bedside table, looking down at his prize.

Derek was breathing shallowly through his parted lips, fingers tangled in the sheets. His cock was an angry red, leaking despite the sound in the slit. Stiles reached out and ran his fingers down the hardness of that cock, delighting in the shaky sound Derek let out.

“Like that, huh?” Stiles asked, and Derek sighed out a soft ‘yes.’ Still smiling, Stiles dragged his fingers along the red marred skin, before he peeled up the edge of a bit of wax. “How about this?” He pulled the wax away slowly, tugging at the hairs on Derek’s stomach.

Derek let out a little keen, stomach contracting.

There was a reddened spot on Derek’s skin where the wax had been. Stiles found it pretty. He started to pull off the rest of the wax, slowly so he didn’t pull the hairs out, only tugged on them a bit. He dropped the bits of wax in the bowl the ice had been in, and when he was done, Derek’s chest and stomach were blotchy and beautiful. Stiles leaned down and peppered it with kisses.

“God, you’re perfect,” Stiles purred, leaning up to press his lips against Derek’s.

Derek surged up into the kiss, whimpering and parting his lips in want. Stiles plunged his tongue inside Derek’s mouth, licking his teeth. Derek moaned like a dying creature, shifting, and Stiles opened his eyes to see Derek’s hands up, poised near Stiles’s shoulders like Derek wanted to grab him. He waited for it to happen, but after a few heartbeats Derek just dropped his arms again.

Stiles broke the kiss with a loud smooch, something that made Derek chuckle, before he sat up again. “So there’s one more thing I want to do before we’re done,” he said, running his hands along Derek’s skin. “Are you up for that?”

“Yes, sir,” Derek said, hands shifting along the covers.

Stiles thumbed at Derek’s nipples. “I want to do a bit of caning. How does that sound?”

“Fine. Good,” Derek said, licking his lips. “Just not--”

“Your back, I know,” Stiles finished. Even with the blindfold on, Derek looked surprised, like he hadn’t expected Stiles to take his little comment on the kink survey to heart. Stiles smiled down at him even though he couldn’t see it. “I was thinking your ass, thighs, calves and soles of your feet. That okay?”

“Yes,” Derek replied, his cock twitching up and dripping.

“Good boy.” Stiles sat back, looking down at Derek’s impossibly hard dick. “I want you on your stomach for this, so you probably don’t want to roll over onto this sounding rod. I’m going to take it out, okay?” At Derek’s nod, Stiles took hold of the base of Derek’s dick with one hand and the sound with the other.

Derek let out a low whine as Stiles pulled the sound from his dick with a wet noise.

Stiles set the sound on the nightstand next to the bowl of wax, before he stepped off the bed. “Turn over for me, sexy,” he said, and Derek hurried to comply, turning onto his stomach. Stiles grabbed onto Derek’s legs at the knees and dragged him so he was half off the bed, his legs dangling. Derek gasped and pawed at the bed in surprise, before he dug his toes into the carpet.

“Don’t move,” Stiles told him with a light smack on Derek’s ass, causing him to grunt. He walked into the secret room of happy times and went over to the collection of canes. He picked one of the thicker ones, modern style with a braided purple nylon handle, as opposed to the curled schoolmaster style.

He walked back out into the bedroom and over to the bed where Derek was waiting, his cheek smooshed against the mattress. Stiles set the cane against Derek’s ass, watching him tense for a second before relaxing. He gave him a moment to take a few deep breaths, before he drew the cane back and struck it across the meaty flesh of Derek’s ass, drawing a sharp noise from him.

There was a red mark across Derek’s beautiful ass now, and Stiles liked the look of it. He set about endeavoring to cover that skin with marks, striping it and making crisscrosses. The cries Derek let out were music to his ears. When he was done, Derek was breathing heavily, and his thighs were trembling a little. Some of the marks were deepening into purple.

“So perfect,” Stiles said, feeling a rush of power through him. Caning was officially a thing he was into. He squeezed one of Derek’s ass cheeks and grinned at the whining sound he let out.

Stiles lifted the cane and started to whack Derek’s thighs, making them just as pretty as his ass. He knew that Derek wouldn’t be able to sit for days without aching, and that thought filled him with glee. Derek’s calves were next. Stiles made sure to avoid the underside of his knee because it was far too sensitive, as well as any further down on his leg because there wasn’t any cushion for his strikes.

He gave Derek a moment to breathe and get used to the pain again, standing there and flexing his grip on the handle of the cane. his palm was a little sweaty, and he was breathing harder than when he started. This was actually one hell of a workout.

“You good?” Stiles asked, and Derek didn’t respond, just laid there and panted. “Talk to me, big guy.” He reached over and squeezed an ass cheek. “Color?”

“Green,” Derek replied like the sound was punched out of him.

“Good to hear it,” Stiles said, patting his ass before straightening up again. “Lift your left foot for me.”

It took Derek several seconds, but he drew his foot up and tried to hold it still as his leg shook. Stiles watched him a moment, before he struck the very middle of the sole of his foot. Derek let out a cry, his leg jumping and his toes curling, and turned his face into the covers, whimpering.

Stiles waited for his foot to stop shaking before he struck again, three more times. After that it looked like Derek was trying so hard to keep his leg up that he was bound to give a calf cramp, and that would be a bad kind of pain.

“Okay, you can drop your foot,” he said, and Derek immediately complied, letting his leg hang limp. He reached over and started to pet his back, long strokes from the back of his neck to his tailbone and back up. He stood there and watched as Derek’s breathing evened out and his legs stood trembling.

“Good boy,” Stiles crooned, rubbing his hand over Derek’s tattoo before dragging it down and straightening up again. “Now lift your right foot. We’re almost done.” He waited, figuring it would take Derek a moment or two to respond, but then he kept waiting for a full minute and Derek never moved. “Derek, lift your foot,” he repeated, tapping him on the ankle with the cane. But Derek still didn’t move, lying there like a limpet.

“Derek?” Stiles asked, poking his ass, before he dropped the cane and climbed up onto the bed, leaning down to look at his face. “You still with me, big guy?” He ran his hand through Derek’s hair.

Derek’s eyes were half open, glossy and looking far away with his pupils blown huge. He didn’t react when Stiles waved a hand in front of his face, just breathing shallowly through parted lips.

“Oh,” Stiles said, sitting up. Well this was unexpected. He’d never thought Derek the type to allow himself to fall into subspace, but he guessed he couldn’t control his own endorphins.

He hopped off the bed and gathered up Derek’s legs shifting him so he was completely on the bed again. Then he took him under the arms and dragged his top half toward the pillows with a grunt. Derek was probably at least 200lbs of muscle, while Stiles was made of bones and sarcasm. When he got Derek situated, he laid down next to him and started to pet his hair.

“You did so well tonight,” he told him, even though Derek most likely couldn’t hear him. “Your level of obedience continues to surprise me, y’know?” He dragged his nails lightly alone Derek’s scalp. “You’re nothing like what I thought you were.” He pressed in and brushed their lips together.

It took a while, long enough that Stiles felt sleepiness pull him into a near doze, but Derek started to make little noises. Stiles blinked his eyes open and watched awareness come back to Derek’s eyes. He glanced around before his gaze settled on Stiles’s face, before his eyebrows furrowed together.

“What happened?” he asked, his voice heavy.

“You went into subspace,” Stiles told him, smiling and cupping Derek’s cheek. “You were out of it for a while.”

Derek’s eyes widened, his brows bowing, before he lifted his hand and covered Stiles’s. he dropped his gaze. “I’m sorry,” he said softly.

Stiles blinked at him. “What? Why?”

“I didn’t mean to,” Derek replied, and the amount of guilt on his face was heartbreaking. “I messed up your scene.”

Stiles stared at him a moment, before he wiggled closer and wrapped Derek up in his arms. “No, no,” he said as he pressed kiss after kiss against Derek’s face. “You didn’t do anything wrong, Derek. You were perfect for me. So perfect.” He drew back a little and found Derek gazing at him in confusion with eyes that were a little bit wet. “It wasn’t my scene. It’s ours. This is about the both of us. You’re supposed to react and feel, and subspace is part of that. And I’m supposed to take care of you, which I have no problem doing, okay?”

There was still confusion in Derek’s features, but eventually he smiled a little and nodded.

Stiles leaned his forehead against Derek’s. “Don’t get mad, but did a previous dom of yours get mad when you went into subspace?”

Derek nodded again.

“What did they do?” Stiles asked, having a feeling this wound ran deep.

“She kicked me out. She didn’t let me get dressed first, just threw my clothes onto the lawn.” Derek shifted, drawing away a little like he wanted to escape this conversation.

Stiles held onto him, not wanting to cage him in, but Derek needed to understand something. “Well, that’s fucking awful. What she should have done was hold you and tell you how beautiful you are, because that’s what you deserve, dammit,” he all but growled, giving Derek his most intense eyes.

So many emotions crossed over Derek’s face, his brows coming down, bowing up then smoothing out. Finally he just smooshed his face into Stiles’s shoulder. “I’ve never met anyone like you,” he said in a rush, like he was afraid it would get caught in his throat.

Stiles held him tight. “That makes two of us.”

Chapter Text

Nobody was in a good mood. The firm was running a mile a second. Derek was catching flak from all sides about a new case he was working on, which made him about as friendly as a cactus.

Stiles handed over a folder he'd been sent to fetch, frowning as it was snatched from his grasp. When Derek barked that he needed yet another file, Stiles huffed. "You could say please, y'know," he grumbled as he turned toward the door.

"I don't say please for something that's your job," Derek griped at his back.

Stiles sighed loud and dramatic, shutting the office door a little too hard. Stiles's disrespect for authority and natural sarcasm was not a winning combination in this kind of situation. But then, Derek was under serious pressure, and Stiles being a snotty brat wasn't helping. He went and got the other file and tried to appear amicable in handing it over. After all, he wanted Derek to know he had someone on his side. But Derek just grabbed it with a frown and turned his chair away.

Fine then.

They had made plans to meet that night, but Stiles figured that Derek would be in too sour a mood to have company. So he went home.

Stiles was sitting on the couch in his pajamas, watching the Star Wars prequels with Scott and Kira. He wanted to know their opinions on Jar Jar Binks. He was halfway through a plate of jalapeño nachos when his phone buzzed on the coffee table. He licked the melted cheese and grease from his fingers and grabbed it.

Are you coming over? the text read, and it was from Derek.

Stiles frowned at his phone. Do you want me to?

Yes.

Are you sure? You certainly had no patience for my presence at work.

Can I make it up to you?

That was not an apology.

Stiles frowned harder. If I come over, you definitely will. I've never really disciplined you before. Are you up for it?

Yes. came Derek’s immediate response, and then shortly afterward, Please.

Stiles let out a sigh. Okay, I'll be there in a little bit.

He hopped up and earned concerned glances from his friends. "Duty calls," he said with a shrug, before he walked into his bedroom to put on something other than Minecraft jammies.

When Derek opened the door after Stiles knocked, he looked ashamed. "Hey," he said, stepping back to let Stiles in.

"Hi," Stiles replied, closing the door behind himself and getting a good look at Derek’s posture. He was closed off, uncertain, and he was looking at Stiles like he was ready to be yelled at. That took most of the wind out of Stiles’s sails. He couldn’t stay mad at an emotionally constipated man with puppy dog eyes.

"Come on," he said, heading up the stairs with Derek behind him. When they got to the room, he pointed to the bed. "Get undressed and lie down on your back. I need to get a couple things." He turned toward the hidden room at that, confident his order would be followed.

The objects he needed were a pair of cuffs, a ball gag and a bell, the last of which he only knew was there because he'd been snooping on another day. He came out of the room, and Derek was laid out on the bed, gazing at the ceiling.

"I've never seen a naked man so gloomy," Stiles remarked with a snort, and Derek looked at him as he sat on the edge of the bed. Stiles showed him what be had. "Color?"

Derek took a couple moments to consider it. "Green," he said with a nod.

Stiles shifted so he was kneeling beside Derek. "Lift your head," he said, and Derek did, that way Stiles could get the ball gag into place. "Hands." Stiles cuffed Derek’s wrists to the headboard, before he took one of his hands, pressed the bell into his palm and curled his fingers around it. "You know the drill. Drop the bell if you need to safeword. Nod if you understand." Derek nodded, so Stiles leaned in and kissed his nose.

"Now that I have you here," Stiles said, sliding off the bed and pulling his shirt over his head. "We're going to talk about your behavior today." He dropped his shirt on the floor. "Well, I'm going to talk, and you're going to listen." He undid his belt, pulling to free slowly, loop by loop. "I understand that you were having a bad day, but you treated me like I was attacking you when all I was trying to do was help."

Stiles bent down to take off his shoes and socks, giving Derek a moment to digest that. When he stood up again, he undid his pants as Derek stared at him, cheeks a bit flushed. "I'm in your corner, Derek. I support you both here and at work. You do not get to treat me like an indentured servant and get away with it." Stiles held Derek's gaze. "Understand?"

Derek nodded after a couple beats, his brows bowing.

"Good boy," Stiles said, before he pushed his pants and undies down his legs and kicked them away. "Now I know that this is usually all about you, about pulling you out of your head," he was saying as he climbed up onto the bed again. "But this time it's going to be about my pleasure." He took his partial hardness in hand and gave it a stroke. "You don't get to come until after I do. Understand?" At Derek’s nod, he smiled. "Good."

Stiles shifted so he was straddling Derek’s meaty thighs. He touched his hips, and Derek shuddered a little. "Feeling sensitive today?" he asked, smiling before he dragged his fingers up Derek’s stomach and to his nipples. "It seems like a good a day as any to abuse these, don't you think?" He brushed his thumbs over the hardening nubs, pulling a groan out of Derek, muffled as it was by the gag.

If Stiles were the type to wax poetic about a part of Derek’s body, he'd have much to choose from. Right then he was rubbing and rolling his nipples, delighting in the way Derek was trying not to arch but couldn't completely contain himself.

"I bet you would look amazing with these beauties pierced, hm?" he said, before he leaned down and took one of the nipples between his teeth and tugged, ripping a broken sound out of Derek. "Mm, let's do more of that, shall we?"

He played with Derek nipples until they were a bit bruised and puffy, briefly considering getting the clamps, but he didn't want to move from Derek’s lap. Derek was a bit of a wreck, breathing hard through his nose with a bit of spit oozing down his chin that he couldn’t stop. His pupils were blown huge, hardly any green around them, and his cock was hard where it was laying against his stomach.

Stiles had plans for that cock.

He gave Derek’s poor nipples each a kiss, before he wiped at Derek's chin with the corner of the sheet. He reached over and pulled the bottle of lube out of the nightstand. "I bet you think you know what I'm going to do with this, huh?" he asked, tilting the bottle back and forth in his hand. At Derek’s raised brows, he smiled. "Well, you'd be wrong."

Stiles turned, straddling Derek’s stomach the other way, so Derek had a good view of his ass. By the noise that Derek let out, Stiles figured he understood, and he smirked at him over his shoulder, before he reached between his legs and massaged over his own hole with his wet fingers. He braced his other hand on Derek’s thigh, gasping softly as he pressed is middle finger inside.

He let it drag on, slowly stretching himself until he he letting out little whines of want without meaning to. He watched as Derek grew more and more desperate, pulling at the cuffs but never dropping the bell. His eyes were zeroed in on what Stiles’s fingers were doing, watching with a heated gaze as Stiles’s hole was coaxed open to a loose, sloppy mess. His cock was leaking a clear puddle against his stomach, and Stiles couldn’t wait to sit on it.

Derek let out a sound that sounded a bit like Stiles’s name.

“Yeah,” Stiles breathed out, turning around. “I hear you.” He grabbed the lube and slicked Derek up, before he gripped the base, holding him up straight. “How much do you want to fuck me?” he asked, grinning evilly as Derek keened and thrust his hips up. “That much, hm? You’re gagging for it? That’s my boy.”

He shifted up and pressed Derek’s cockhead against his hole, letting out a sound as it breached him. He sank down slowly, hissing as he took Derek’s impressive girth. The stretch burned, but it felt so fucking good that Stiles put his head back and moaned. He took a couple moments to try to get used to it, before he grunted as Derek’s hips rolled up into him.

“Did I say you could do that?” Stiles looked at Derek’s face, finding him smiling like a shit around his ball gag, corners of his eyes crinkled. With a snort, Stiles lifted his hands above his head and brought them down hard on Derek’s chest, drawing a sharp noise out of him. Stiles’s fingers tingled and burned, the skin around them going red.

Stiles pulled his hands back and grinned at the clear handprints left behind. “That’s what you get,” he told his mewling sub. “Next time, it’s your ass.”

He set his hands on Derek’s shoulders, rocking his hips and groaning as the cock in him shifted. “Mm, that’s good. I’m gonna have so much fun riding you slowly,” he told him, smiling as Derek’s brows bowed up. That obviously wasn’t what he wanted. But if Derek thought he had any control over this, like he could get Stiles to ride him hard and fast with just eyebrow communication, he had another thing coming.

This was about teaching Derek that other people had needs too, after all. Hopefully the lesson would stick in places other than play too.

Stiles got a rhythm going, moaning softly as the cock in him dragged along his inner walls. It was good, going slow like this. They didn’t do it often, given how easy it was to rile them both up. Stiles would have most likely enjoyed a nice fast, hard fucking, but he liked this just as much.

Derek seemed a bit desperate, twisting his wrists in the cuffs and letting out whining sounds. He kept his hips still though, just letting Stiles take his pleasure like the good boy he was. He turned his face into his shoulder, huffing through his nose.

“Hey, none of that now,” Stiles said, reaching forward to grab Derek by the chin and turn his face forward. “I want you to watch me come apart on your dick.” He rolled his hips in a circle, and they both moaned. “Yeah, just like that. Don’t take your eyes off of me.” He shifted his legs to he could start lifting a settling back down. “Good, huh?” Derek nodded, biceps bulging as he fought not to move. “You feel so good, Derek, so fucking good, nngh, yeah.”

Derek whined, swallowing a couple times, and Stiles laid his hands over the bruised flesh on his chest, using him as leverage to raise higher and drop down harder. It was enough to make Stiles’s cock bob, slapping against his stomach with each movement. It also meant Derek’s dick nailed him right in the prostate every time.

“Oh, oh god,” Stiles gasped as that familiar heat started in his stomach and balls. “Fuck, I’m gonna--” He scratched his nails over the welts on Derek’s chest, causing him to arch up with a muffled cry, and Stiles’s hips stuttered as he came onto Derek’s stomach.

Stiles sucked in a few breaths and sat up straight, feeling Derek’s dick still hard inside of him. “You didn’t come,” he said, and Derek shook his head, causing him to smile. “That’s my good boy,” he said, starting to move again, faster now. “And good boys get what they deserve.” He was practically bouncing on Derek’s dick. “Come on, Derek, come for me!”

Derek cried out as best he could behind the ball gag, arching up and jerking as he came inside of Stiles, before he sagged with a whine.

Stiles smiled, settling and squeezing his muscles around Derek’s softening cock, pulling a whimper from him. “Sensitive?” he asked, and Derek nodded a little. He pulled off of him slowly, a drizzle of come sliding down his thigh, before he pulled the ball gag out of his mouth, leaning down to kiss him. “You’re perfect,” he said, and he kissed him again when Derek smiled a little.

After removing the cuffs and setting everything on the bedside table, Stiles set about quickly cleaning up, going to the bathroom to grab a cloth. He cleaned the lube and come from his ass, before he wiped up Derek’s front and soft dick. Then he climbed onto the bed and started to snuggle the shit out of him.

“You good?” he asked once he had Derek in his arms.

“Yeah,” Derek replied softly.

"How's your chest?" It felt hot from where it was pressed against Stiles.

"Throbbing," Derek replied. "But it feels good."

"Anything I can do for you?"

"This is good," Derek replied, burrowing his face into Stiles shoulder.

Stiles pressed his face into Derek’s hair, taking a breath of drying sweat and lingering shampoo. He was still all tingly all over, happily settling into his post-coital haze. Usually they got up and had dinner, but Stiles wasn’t feeling it just yet, and Derek wasn’t making any moves to head for the kitchen. Stiles sighed and closed his eyes, ready to doze for a bit.

This was nice, the way they were just sharing body heat and relaxing into each other's embrace. Cuddling was definitely a favorite pastime of Stiles's, and Derek was a clingy octopus, so it all worked out. They'd come so far from that first night in the club.

"Her name was Kate," Derek said into the silence suddenly.

"Hm?" Stiles asked, shifting to blink down at him.

But Derek wasn't looking at his face. Instead his gaze was fixated on Stiles’s collarbone. "My other dom."

"Oh," Stiles said, and then with feeling, "Oh."

"She was my first," Derek went on, his breath hot against Stiles’s skin. "First dom. First real girlfriend. First person I had sex with."

Immediately, Stiles was concerned. "How old were you?" he asked tentatively.

"Sixteen."

Oh God. "How old was she?"

"Twenty-five."

Stiles almost let out a loud curse, but he refrained. "I see."

"At the time, I didn't know what she was doing was bad etiquette," Derek went on in a quiet, even voice. "She said she would teach me everything and not to go looking up information on my own."

"That... That's..." Stiles had no words to voice the rage boiling up in his throat.

"Yeah. She didn't like safewords. She would do things to me without discussing it first. Whenever I told her I didn't enjoy something, she would call me selfish, because it's a sub's job to make a dom happy."

"You know that's not true, right?" At least, not exactly. It was about push and pull, give and take on both accounts, not one person using the other solely for their pleasure. (Unless both parties were into that.)

"I do now," Derek replied with a nod. "It has taken me a long time to unlearn the... the behaviors she beat into me. I'm still working on it."

Stiles hummed in response, petting Derek’s hair and thinking about all the creative ways he could hurt this Kate. But then that was a lot of energy to put into thinking about someone that had caused Derek pain over a decade ago. It wasn't like he could find her and run her over with Roscoe. He just needed to be supportive at the moment.

"Is it because of her that you don't want your back beaten in any way?" he asked.

"Yeah," Derek replied, shifting a little. "You can't really tell because I've had them tattooed over, but I have some scars there. Kate's favorite punishment was to use a single tail on my back until I cried." He pushed his face into Stiles’s neck more. "Sometimes she would whip me just because she was in a bad mood."

Stiles wanted to chase that shame away and replace it with true confidence, but it would take a while. "Can I...?"

Derek nodded into Stiles neck, before he shifted onto his stomach and pressed his cheek against Stiles’s shoulder.

Turning more toward him, Stiles put his hand on Derek’s back, and when Derek didn't flinch away, he dragged his fingers over the tattoo. Right between Derek’s shoulder blades, there were a few places where the skin was raised and hard. They were mostly concentrated in one spot, so Kate must have hit Derek with the intent to draw blood, to hurt him as much as possible. The thought almost had Stiles flinging himself across Derek’s back and promising no one would ever hurt him again. He didn’t, because Derek was a person, not a possession to lock away and protect.

"It's why I don't have any whips. Just seeing one makes me want to throw up."

Stiles laid his hand flat against Derek’s tattoo. He didn’t know what to do in this situation other than listen.

"It wasn't always bad. Sometimes the scenes would be perfect for her, and she'd hold me and whisper about how good I was in my ear. I came to crave her praise. I put her needs before mine and tried to pretend I was okay with that. For a couple years, I succeeded."

A couple years? For that long Derek had been in a mentally and physically abusive relationship, and he was acting like it was just something that happened to him? Like a job in food service or having to take the train to work, instead of a traumatic experience he was carrying the memories of each day. It made Stiles paternal, like an angry mama bird hiding a chick under her wing.

But then he had to remember that Derek wasn't his, because you could not own a person. They weren’t even dating. They were just fuck buddies. And even if they were together, Derek didn't need to be fixed. He wasn't broken, couldn't be put back together again like Humpty Dumpty. This was just a bit part of him now, an important part. It would be far worse if Stiles treated him like he was fragile.

He hugged Derek just a bit tighter anyway.

"One day, she just left," Derek said with a bit of a shrug. "She cleaned out her apartment and cancelled her phone. I still don't know what happened to her, but that's probably for the best. I don't know if I could have handled her telling me goodbye." He let out a sigh. "It was a while after that that I started to go to the clubs. I'm glad she wasn't into showing me off, or it would probably have just reminded me of her."

Derek swallowed, shifting again, this time more into Stiles's embrace. "I've learned a lot since I was a kid. I've met some great people... like you."

Stiles didn’t know how to respond to that in a way that wouldn’t be deeply embarrassing for the both of them. But he didn’t need to, because there was a gurgling sound, and they both kind of froze.

"Well," Derek said in the quiet.

"Hungry?" Stiles asked, amused and showing it on his face.

"Perhaps," Derek replied into Stiles skin. "Are you?"

"I could eat." Honestly that was Stiles’s default setting. Also he hadn't been able to finish his nachos either. (Scott probably polished those off.)

"I'll make something," Derek said, pulling out of Stiles’s arms after a couple beats

They got moderately dressed and went down to the kitchen. Stiles sat at the table and watched over the island as Derek assessed what ingredients he had.

"Hey," he said after a couple minutes, and Derek made a noise that said he heard him. "Let's go to the club this Saturday. We don’t have to do anything, but Lydia said she'd buy us drinks."

"Lydia, as in the manager?" Derek asked as he washed off a couple tomatoes.

"Yeah. You know her?"

"Only by name."

"Ah. I figured it would be nice to be among like-minded people. And if the urge hits us, we can get a room. C'mon, it'll be fun. I want to see everyone's jealous face when someone like me shows up with someone like you."

"What do you mean by that?" Derek said as he grated cheese.

"I'm a six on a good day, and you're an eleven after you roll out of bed." That much should be obvious.

"You're devaluing yourself," Derek told him over his shoulder.

"You're cute when you lie," Stiles said with a snort, and Derek made a show of rolling his eyes.


When Stiles got to the club that Saturday night, he figured he was looking like hot shit. He had on his red dress shirt, which was actually ironed (by Scott) for once, nice dark jeans and a thin black tie. He’d admired himself plenty in the mirror, and Kira had wolf whistled at him, so his ego was pretty inflated at the moment.

But then he saw Derek.

He was standing near the entrance to the Menagerie, looking fucking edible in painted on pants, high leather boots and an unzipped leather jacket. Oh, and fingerless gloves. Those weren’t fucking fair. Stiles wanted to suck on those fingers now.

“You…” he tried as he walked up to Derek, who gave him a smile. “How do…?” He gestured to the whole of Derek, incapable of expressing himself at the moment, and the next thing that left his mouth was an incoherent jumble of vowels.

Derek looked like he wasn’t trying very hard not to smile. “You okay?”

“Not with you looking like that!” Stiles sputtered, unable to keep himself from touching the thin layer of hair on Derek’s chest and down his tummy. “All sexy and shit. When I said I wanted to show you off, I didn’t mean tart it up, you hussy.”

Derek laughed at that, loud and bright, and it was wonderful. Then he grabbed Stiles’s face and kissed him. It was getting harder to think of Derek as an nonpermanent part of his life when he kissed like that.

“I have no plans to hang out or leave with anyone but you,” Derek said, his warm breath fanning out over Stiles’s face and smelling like mint. He probably brushed his teeth before this, and that was okay because Stiles did too.

“Good,” Stiles said, a bit kissed stupid. “Because I don’t have a stick to beat anyone off with. Shall we?” He offered his arm to Derek, who laughed and hooked his hand under his elbow.

"You're in a good mood," Stiles said as they walked in.

"It's been a while since I've gone out," Derek replied with a shrug.

Caitlin was at the welcoming podium again, and she smiled at them before she gave them the appropriate wristbands and took their phones for safe keeping. They walked through the entryway, heading for the bar, where Lydia was sitting and chatting with the bartender. She had a black overbust corset on over a button up sky blue blouse and a flowy skirt with high boots. She looked fabulous. Of course.

She noticed them as they approached and lifted her head, smiling at Stiles when she recognized him. Then her eyes landed on Derek and widened a bit. She gave him an obvious once over as they came closer.

"Well," she said. "Now I understand."

Stiles laughed and blushed up to the tips of his ears. "Yeah," he replied as he sat down next to her.

Derek looked confused as he sat down on Stiles’s other side, glancing between the two of them. "What?"

"Stiles said you were hot," Lydia said brightly. "But he didn’t say you were hot like burning carbon subnitride."

Stiles and Derek both blinked at her, before Derek spoke up. "That's the chemical that burns the hottest, isn't it?"

"Yes," Lydia replied, looking intensely pleased.

"I enjoyed high school chemistry," Derek remarked.

"My chemistry teacher was the devil," Stiles said very seriously, drawing laughter from his company. "Anyway." He waved a hand like he was batting away his embarrassment. "Derek, this is Lydia, the manager of this fine establishment. And Lydia, this is Derek."

"I've seen you around a few times," Lydia said with a nod. "Not lately though. You're usually shirtless."

Derek smiled and looked down at where his hands were threaded together on the bar top. "I decided to tone it down tonight, since I'm here with someone."

"This is toning it down?" Lydia asked, eyes going a little wide.

"I think you're using that term incorrectly," Stiles said with a huff. "You look like a melting piece of chocolate, ready to be devoured."

"I have a feeling that's not the only comparison you could make," Lydia said, signaling the bartender, most likely to keep Stiles from going into hyperbole about Derek’s abs or the bulge of his crotch. "Rum and Coke, Stiles?" she asked, and Stiles nodded. "And for you, Derek?"

"Seven and Seven," Derek replied, nodding to the bartender.

Lydia ordered an extra dirty martini.

When they got their drinks, Lydia gave hers a sip before she turned at the stool more toward them. "So you've come on at good day. There are five kink vendors in the public rooms, peddling their wares. You should check them out."

"That sounds like fun," Stiles said, lifting his brows before looking at Derek. The man agreed with a nod. Stiles looked back and Lydia. "So, how's Allison?"

They talked until their drinks were gone. Stiles hopped up, feeling warm inside and ready to check out these kink paraphernalia sellers. He giggled when Lydia swatted at Derek’s hand for trying to sneakily pay for his own drink. Stiles grabbed Derek’s hand and pulled him into the fray.

The first room they went into was halfway full of people. A long line of floggers were laid out on a low table, and the seller was showing off a soft elk leather flogger. She was letting people touch it. Stiles poked at it curiously, just because he could, but he had no intention of buying it or any other flogger.

The next room had restraints of all kinds: cuffs, spreader bars, arm binders and so on. Stiles touched the inside of a pair of enticing looking cuffs, but the inside wasn't quite soft enough. Derek didn't look interested in anything, so they moved on.

The next room had more extreme implements. There was hoods, muzzles, straight jackets and full sensory deprivation sleep sacks. Stiles tried not to look too horrified that there was a person covered head to toe in black leather and straps being used as an example. So not his thing. He scuttled backwards, dragging a wide-eyed Derek with him.

He next seller had ropes of all sorts, ranging from silky soft to marks-that-last-for-days abrasive. Stiles was interested for a minute, but then he remembered Derek had so much rope at his home, so he moved on.

Lastly, there was someone selling collars. She was organizing them on the coffee table when she looked up and saw them there. "Hello," she said, looking at Derek. "Would you like your sub to model these for you? I'm sure a neck that pale would be striking with leather wrapped around it."

Stiles and Derek looked at each other, before they slowly and wordlessly lifted their arms to show the bands about their wrists.

The woman blinked, before she let out a laugh. "I'm sorry. That's what I get for being presumptuous." She looked to Stiles. "The offer stands."

Stiles hummed in consideration, looking over the lengths of leather on the table. They were all gorgeous and well crafted, but. "You already have a collar, don't you?" he asked, turning his head to Derek. "And you don't want to be collared in public, do you?" He remembered the X Derek had crossed through the box on the survey.

"Yeah." Derek nodded, eyes on the collars. Then he licked his lips. "But I wouldn't mind if you bought one for us to use in private. One from just you." The tips of his ears went red, and he averted his eyes.

Stiles couldn't help but gently touch his face, and Derek looked at him with a naked expression. "Okay," he said, and there were many unsaid words passing between them with it. Okay, I'll collar you. Okay, I'll give you what you need. Okay, I'll be there for you when you fall apart. Okay, I'll help you put yourself back together again.

He perused the collars for a bit. They were all great quality, sturdy but soft on the inside, good for extended use. There were even a few lined with fur.

Stiles grinned as he picked one with all cat bell up, turning to Derek and grinning as the bell jingled. "How much would you hate me?" he asked with a snort.

Derek just narrowed his eyes. "Immensely," he said in a flat voice.

The collar seller laughed to herself a little.

Stiles set the bell collar down and picked up another. It looked black at first, but really it was a deep green color. He held it up, and Derek obligingly tipped his head so Stiles could loop it around his neck. He slid the extra through the metal buckle and locked it in place, before he took a step back.

Derek looked immeasurably hot like that, a thin line of leather breaking up unmarked tan skin. Stiles looked his lips, unable to keep the approval off his face. "That--that is definitely good, yes."

"Quite fetching," the seller agreed, before she grabbed a hand mirror and held it up so Derek could see.

Derek gazed at his reflection a moment, lifting a hand and touching the collar. He bit his lip and nodded. "I like it," he said, voice voice a bit rough.

Stiles pulled out his wallet and paid for the collar, and the seller put it in a box and then a bag without prompting. Stiles took it to the coat check, planning on getting it when when he left. He wasn't the only one; there were quite a few bags behind that counter.

The next room they went to didn’t have a vendor in it, instead someone that Stiles recognized. She was naked and in the middle of getting tied up, a placid look on her face. She looked up as they came in, blinking once before smiling. “Hey!” she said, bright and chipper. “Stiles, right?” she asked.

“That’s me,” Stiles said, giving her a smile of his own. “Heather?”

“You got it,” she replied, shifting a little against her bonds. “You remember Donnie?” She nodded to the man that was crossing red rope over her abdomen.

“Hi,” Stiles said with a bit of a wave.

“Yo,” Donnie replied, not looking over but instead focusing on his knots.

“This is Derek,” Stiles said, gesturing to him, and Derek nodded with a small ‘hey.’

“Oh, hey, you’re the same guy,” Heather said, before she looked at Donnie when he gave her a small command. She put her arms behind her back for him to tie. “I was wondering how that argument turned out. Okay, I guess, if you’re together?”

Stiles opened his mouth to say that weren’t exactly together, but Derek beat him to it.

“We figured things out,” he said, and Stiles stared at him. He didn’t mean people thinking they were a couple now? Stiles hadn’t gotten the memo. It was probably for the club only, because it wasn’t like they were going to run into a coworker here. (Well, not outside of the two of them anyway.)

“Mind if we watch?” Stiles asked, moving further into the room. It was a public room, but it was still polite to ask.

“Fine with me,” Heather said, before she glanced at Donnie. “What about you?”

“It’s cool,” Donnie replied without looking up.

“We’ll try to be quiet,” Stiles said, sitting down on one of the couches and patting the place next to him until Derek took it.

Watching someone get tied up and suspended was actually pretty interesting. Donnie definitely knew what he was doing, because every part of Heather that needed to be supported was when she was strung up. She dropped her head and just breathed, slowly turning back and forth minutely.

Heather’s breasts were hanging loosely, and Donnie palmed them, causing her to whimper. He played gently with their heft before thumbing her nipples. He leaned in to murmur in her ear, far too soft to be heard by anyone but her, and she whined before nodding. He started to touch her everywhere, tracing the skin that was going red around the ropes.

After a little while, Stiles’s eyelids were drooping, and his mind was calmly wandering. He had to wonder what Derek would look like all trussed up like that. He could lift Derek up high and suck on his nipples and cock, and all Derek could do would be to moan and beg. He could tie Derek’s knees spread wide and plunder his hole with fingers, tongue and toys. That was a pretty mental image.

He was brought back to the present when Derek shifted next to him, sliding down on the couch with his head in Stiles’s lap. He didn’t bother asking for what he wanted, just grabbed Stiles’s hand and set it in his hair.

Stiles snorted, dragging his fingers through those black strands. “Like this?” he asked, a half smile on his face. When Derek nodded, he continued to pet his hair, looking back at the display where Heather was moaning softly as Donnie tongued her clit.

When Heather came with a shudder and a moan, Stiles wanted to applaud, but he didn’t, of course. He watched as Donnie lowered her to the dias and started to untie the knots. That took a while, but afterward he cradled her in his arms, sitting down and pulling a blanket over her body as she came down.

Stiles tapped Derek’s head, standing up when he moved. “Thanks for the show,” he told Donnie and Heather softly, giving them a wave.

“No problem,” Donnie said in the same whisper.

“Bye,” Heather breathed out, not moving her face from where it was squished against Donnie’s neck.

“That was nice,” Stiles said once they were back in the main area, and Derek nodded in response, looking a bit sleep ruffled. Stiles glanced around until he found a clock. “Oh man, it’s after midnight. Time flies, huh?”

“I guess we should go to home,” Derek said, and they started out.

They got their phones at the front along with the bag with the collar in it, before they headed outside. They paused in the parking lot. Stiles wasn’t eager to part, and it didn’t look like Derek was either.

“Do you want to do this again next Saturday?” Stiles asked, drifting closer and touching Derek’s chest.

“Sure,” Derek said, before he dropped his cheek on Stiles’s shoulder, extra cuddly at the moment.

Stiles put his arms around him and squeezed. “We’ll call it date night,” Stiles teased, and Derek snorted in response.

“Mm,” was Derek’s response as he leaned a bit of his weight against Stiles.

Stiles turned his head and kissed his hair, happy to just hold him for a little while.

Chapter Text

Sometimes Stiles forgot to do laundry. It wasn’t his brightest moment when he had to face the beginning of a work week with no clean clothing. Sometimes he Febreeze’d a dirty shirt and slacks and hoped no one noticed. But today all of his dirty clothes were especially smelly because he’d left them near the window, and the sun had quadrupled their stench.

“Dammit,” Stiles said, standing in the middle of his bedroom in boxers and an undershirt. What was he going to do? It’s not like he could call out of work an hour before he needed to be there. He respected Derek too much to do that. And he was pretty sure fake coughing wouldn’t convince the other man.

There was no alternative then. He walked over to his closet, opening it and looking at what was inside. The only shirts he had clean were the red one and the gold one that he wore, alternately, to The Menagerie on the weekends.

He and Derek had fallen into a rhythm in the past four months. They spent every Tuesday, Thursday and Friday at Derek’s place and then went to the club on Saturdays. (Barring any unforeseen circumstances, of course.) They were a staple at the establishment. They were no longer Stiles and/or Derek, but Stiles and Derek.

Sometimes they went to the club and just observed, drank a little and talked with Lydia. Other times they contributed to the ambiance. Derek loved to be spanked in front of others, Stiles had quickly found, so he gave Derek his hand often. Stiles wasn’t comfortable taking his clothes off in front of others though. The one time he thought he’d be able to let Derek suck him off with an audience, he flailed and pushed him away, hiding himself. They’d stuck to private rooms for the serious stuff after that.

Stiles figured this is was having a boyfriend would be like, except they would actually give themselves a label and tell others about it, as opposed to making it their dirty little secret. Derek still treated him like a subordinate at the firm. He hadn’t said anything about his sister suspecting they were anything more. Erica hadn’t said a word about it to Stiles in a long time. Things were easy in private.

Stiles was content.

More or less.

After an embarrassingly long moment of reflection, Stiles grabbed the red shirt and dark jeans, figuring that Derek wouldn’t care about one infraction when it came to work attire. Besides, he had court the whole day, so it wasn’t like he was going to see Stiles much.


Stiles got to the courthouse right as the doors are closing on the room Derek was in, so he had to dash in and take a seat at the back. Derek is speaking to his client, their heads bent together. From what Stiles gathered, the case was going well. The jury was responding positively to Derek and the case he was making. This would be the last day of court.

Stiles was pretty sure that Derek didn’t even know he was there, even though he usually sat in on Derek’s cases. He loved seeing Derek in his element, and this was definitely it.
It was during Derek’s closing argument that he finally looked Stiles’s direction. “I know that the kind people of the jury, just like your peers,” Derek was saying as he swept his arm out across the small audience, and his eyes landed on Stiles. “That…” His eyes went a bit wide, before he cleared his throat and went back to what he was saying. “That you will find my client not guilty and let him return home to his family.”

Stiles blinked at Derek’s back, wondering what that was.

“Madam foreperson,” the judge said. “Have you reached a verdict?”

“We have, Your Honor,” the foreperson said. “We find the defendant--”

Stiles tensed up like he always did.

“Not guilty.”

Relief washed over the courtroom. Derek’s client actually started to cry when his family leaned over the barrier to embrace him. Derek looked like he was just going to slide away unnoticed, but he got dragged into the huddle. He grinned as he was thanked over and over, and Stiles felt fondness blossom in his chest. This was what Derek deserved everyday.

Figuring that Derek was going to be caught up in celebration for a little while, Stiles left the courtroom and went to wait on one of the benches outside. He was engrossed in breeding magical dragons on Facebook when the doors of the courtroom swung open again. Derek’s client and his family bustled out, all of them smiling, and Derek came out shortly afterward, a briefcase in one hand. Derek stopped when he saw Stiles, who stood up and smiled at him, and soon they were alone in the hallway.

“You were great in there,” Stiles said, his voice hushed because it was a hall that would carry sound in echoes. “You really had me on the edge of my seat.”

“Why are you wearing that?” Derek nearly whispered, pointing to Stiles’s chest.

Stiles looked down, already having forgotten what he’d put on that day. He touched the red fabric of the shirt. “Oh, all my other clothes were dirty. I know bright red is a bit flashy, but I didn’t think you’d fire me over it.” He looked up and found Derek flushed across his high cheek bones. “What?”

“That… You wear that to the club.” Derek swallowed loudly, and that blush did not go away.

Stiles stared a minute. “Yes, why?"

Derek just blushed harder. “I almost had an… embarrassing reaction when I saw you.”

It took a while for Stiles to catch Derek's drift, but when he did his eyes widened and he couldn't help the asshole smile on his face. “Like popping a boner?” Stiles asked, trying and failing to control his features. Derek was too embarrassed to glare, it seemed. "A Pavlovian response? Have I accidentally conditioned you? Do you get horny and subby when you see this shirt?"

“Maybe,” was Derek’s hushed reply.

"That's hilarious."

“Hardly. I don’t think the jury would have appreciated it.”

“They would have just known that you’re well acquainted with the long arm of the law, so to speak.” He couldn’t stop grinning.

“No,” Derek sighed out.

"You love justice so much that you wank to it."

“Again, no.”

“You are very anal about your case load.”

Derek covered his face with his hand and groaned softly. "Please stop talking."

Stiles just kept on with that amused smile. He looked around, seeing not a soul, before he brushed his hand across the front of Derek’s pants, pulling a soft groan from the man. He could feel his semi, and that made Stiles’s ego inflate further. "Let's hurry back to your office so we can take care if this, hm?" he suggested, and Derek let out a tiny whine. "Unless you want me to put you on your knees right here." It was a bluff, of course, because that was too close to dangerous for either of their liking.

Derek peaked at Stiles through his fingers, before he dropped his hand and looked around. He swallowed heavily, before he motioned for Stiles to follow him, which he did, curious. Derek found a door with a placard that said Maintenance and tested the handle. When the door opened, he dragged Stiles inside.

Stiles was surprised when Derek pushed him up against the door, pressing the lock, then kissed him. Derek must have been extra horny if he was risking them getting caught. Stiles was almost proud.

"I have a request," Derek said as he mouthed his way along Stiles’s jaw and to his neck.

"Yeah?" Stiles replied, and Derek nodded against his skin. It was a testament to how far they'd come that Derek would ask for things without that much prompting. "What's that?"

"I want to rim you," Derek said, his breath hot against Stiles’s neck.

Stiles shuddered then swallowed, his dick twitching in interest. "Yeah, that--that sounds like something I could be down for."

Derek snorted, his hands going to the front of Stiles’s pants, before his fingers halted. Only after Stiles mumbled to him 'go ahead' did he pop the button there and draw down the fly. Derek palmed his chub a moment, making Stiles’s hips jerk forward, before he pushed the pants and underwear down past Stiles’s ass.

Stiles turned around and braced his forearms on the door, ready to have his ass eaten. It was one of his favorite activities, and Derek was always more than earnest when Stiles sat on his face. He laid his cheek against his arms as he heard Derek’s knees hit the floor. His ass cheeks were spread, and Derek wasted no time dragging his tongue along his hole.

"Ah, fuck," Stiles murmured, canting his hips back as he was lapped at like melting ice cream. He knew he couldn’t be loud, and it wasn't long before he was biting at the side of his hand.

Derek speared him with his tongue, thrusting in and out of his sloppy, wet hole. It made the most sinful noise in the quiet, accompanied only by Stiles’s harsh breathing. Stiles had to bite his lip when Derek pressed a finger inside of him and pulled his hole open wider, licking and sucking around it. It was the most beautiful torture.

"Derek," Stiles hissed a couple minutes later, pressing his forehead against the door. "I'm--" The was all he could get out before he stifled a groan as he was brought to a shuddering orgasm, spurting white on the door.

As Stiles was getting control of his breathing, he felt Derek stand up and lean into him, kissing his shoulder as he slowly rocked his hips against Stiles's ass. Stiles could feel how hard he was, and he knew the line of Derek’s dick was ruining his expensive as fuck trousers.

Stiles slumped against the door, letting Derek gently hump him as he nuzzled and kissed the back of Stiles’s neck. It took a moment for Stiles to boot back up, but when he did he got an idea.

"Here," he said, shifting his legs together and pushing his ass out. "Fuck my thighs. We can't have you walking around with a boner."

Derek responded by rustling the fabric of his pants and pulling down the zip. He took Stiles’s hip in hand and pressed forward, his dick penetrating the tight passage Stiles ass cheeks and thighs made. He didn't bother working up to fast and hard, pressing his face into Stiles's shoulder as he chased his pleasure.

"That's it," Stiles murmured, trying to follow the rhythm. "Fuck me, Derek, c'mon."

Derek let out what sounded like a growl, slapping his hips against Stiles's ass.

It felt kind of nice to have Derek’s dick drag along his taint like that. It wasn't enough to make Stiles hard again, but it wasn't a chore. He reached back with one hand and grabbed Derek’s ass, squeezing.

Derek grunted as he stilled, digging his forehead into the place between Stiles’s shoulder blades and coming in hot ropes against the backside of his balls and over his thighs. He panted as he came down, holding Stiles tight.

Stiles enjoyed the embrace for a while, before he wrinkled his nose as the come on his legs and taint cooled to goop. "I don't think we thought this through entirely," he said, and Derek giggled, which made Stiles chuckle. "No, really. Are there napkins?"

Derek pulled away, and Stiles watched over his shoulder as Derek fixed his pants and glanced around. He walked over to a shelf and grabbed a fresh bundle of napkins, ones that looked like they belonged in the bathroom. He broke the seal and handed Stiles a handful.

Stiles wiped himself and the door clean, before he waddled over to stuff the soiled napkins into the half full trash can, pushing them down to the bottom. Then he pulled his pants up. When he looked over, Derek looked amused.

"Shut your handsome face," Stiles huffed at him, righting his shirt.

"I wasn't going to say a word," Derek replied, pressing his lips together to kill his smile.

Stiles moved over to him and kissed those lips, a gentle touch compared to what they just did. Afterwards, he slowly opened the door to check for witnesses. When he found the hallway empty, they skittered out, giddy like a pair of teenagers that had just made out in a dark theatre.


“Nngh, oh God, that’s so good,” Stiles moaned, before he bit his bottom lip.

“Yeah?” Derek asked. “Just like that?” He did it again.

Stiles arched off the bed with a moan. “Fuck, it’s almost better than sex.” He gave Derek a half lidded look. “Almost.”

Derek snorted, digging his fingers into the arch of Stiles’s foot again.

“Man, you’d think you were buttering me up for something,” Stiles said, stretching out his arms. They’d just had great sex, so he was warm and loose all over. He’d thought Derek would bustle them downstairs for dinner, but instead he started to massage Stiles’s feet, and Stiles was not complaining at all.

“Maybe I am,” Derek said, and Stiles opened his eyes to find Derek staring at him with a soft, hesitant smile.

“You know you don’t have to work me up to things,” Stiles said, pushing himself up onto his hands. “Just ask. I’m not going to shoot anything down.” He rubbed the back of his head. “Even if I’m not up to it, we can compromise and figure out something that works for both of us.”

“It’s not anything like that,” Derek said, looking down at where his fingers were wrapped around Stiles’s foot.

“What is it?” Stiles asked, brows furrowing in worry.

Derek pulled his lips to one side, then the other side, before he took a deep breath in through his nose. “Will you go on a date with me?” he asked

Stiles just stared at him as his brain came to a screeching halt. What? What?

Derek glanced at Stiles’s face, before he swallowed. “I mean, doesn’t it seem like a logical development?” He licked his lips. “It’s getting harder and harder to imagine things without you. You’re--you’re practically a permanent fixture in my life already.”

It was true. Stiles had a spare toothbrush in the bathroom, sitting in a cup next to Derek’s. He had a bottle of his brand of 2-n-1 shampoo and body wash in the shower, the one that Derek had rolled his eyes at because he had shampoo, conditioner, body wash, and face wash in four separate bottles. He had his own towel too, though he tended to use more than one because they were so fluffy. He had a drawer and a bit of space in the closet. Derek laundered his clothes, so they were always super soft and smelled like Derek’s detergent.

Derek’s brows went up as Stiles continued being silent, and he looked down, lowering Stiles’s foot to the bed. “Oh,” he said, voice low and flat. “I understand.” He shifted backward, obviously taking Stiles’s lack of words for rejection.

“No!” Stiles squeaked, launching himself at Derek and wrapping around him. “Don’t, no, I--I mean--” He peppered Derek’s face with kisses. “Of course, I want to go on a date with you.” He brushed Derek’s hair from his forehead and gazed into slightly wet, wide eyes. “You--God, duh!

Derek blinked at him. “You are not speaking in full sentences,” he said, before he lifted a hand to wipe the moisture gathered on his eyelashes away. Then he dropped his forehead against Stiles’s shoulder. “I should have asked sooner, huh?”

Stiles shook his head. “No, I could have asked too. We’re both total dumb dumbs.” He slid his way out of Derek’s lap, grabbing onto his hand and lacing their fingers together. “I always had this fear that if I tried to take things further, you would push me away completely.”

“I wouldn’t have,” Derek said, shifting so he could fold his legs.

"Well, I know that now." Stiles snorted, rubbing his thumbs across the soft skin between Derek's thumbs and index fingers. "You're braver than me," he told him.

Derek shook his head. "Not really."

"Yuh huh, don't you argue with me," Stiles said very seriously. He leaned in and gave Derek a peck on the lips. He could feel Derek’s smile, and it was still there when he drew back.

"I guess if we're going to be dating for real, people will see us. Your sister will know." The prospect didn’t so much scare Stiles as it did make him want to bite his nails anxiously. "You're not supposed to date your secretary, are you?"

"I don't care what anyone says," Derek said, surprisingly defiant. "I want to be with you."

Well, if that didn't make Stiles feel all gooey inside, nothing would. He let out a kind of giggle and pressed his face against Derek’s shoulder. What had he done to deserve this man?


They made plans to go to a restaurant the Saturday after next, and Stiles snuggled against Derek as he called and made the reservation. So fancy.

The first people Stiles told were Scott and Kira, and they both gave him a wide-eyed stare, simultaneously dying in Gears of War. Then Kira launched herself at Stiles, hugging his tight enough to pop his spine. She was strong for someone that was 5'2" and probably barely over 100lbs.

"I'm so happy for you!" she squealed, and he tried to worm his hand around to pat her hair.

"Thanks," he wheezed, before taking a deep breath when he was released. He grinned at her.

Scott scooped him up next, hugging him tight. His friends could open up a chiropractic business, jeez. "That's great, bro." He dropped Stiles back onto his feet. "So when do we get to meet him?"

Stiles let out a hysterical kind of laugh. "How about we wait and see if we can date as well as we have sex, then we can double at a bar or something."

"Sounds good to me," Scott said, all grins as he threw his arm around an equally joyous Kira.


The next person that was given the knowledge that Stiles and Derek were going on a date date was Lydia. She gasped and spilled a bit of her sangria on the bar top. Quickly she set down her drink so she didn't have another mishap as the bartender wiped up the mess.

"That's wonderful news!" she said, smiling from ear to ear. "Where are you going?"

"Rizzoli's," Derek replied.

Lydia let out a little whistle. "I love that place, but isn't it a bit high brow for a first date? Two piece suits might be a little difficult to tear off each other at the end of the night."

"Wait," Stiles interrupted. "I have to wear a suit?" He looked between them, eyes going huge. "I don't even have a suit. Last time I wore one was to prom."

Derek and Lydia both looked at him like he had grown another head.

“Well, that won’t do,” Lydia scoffed, smacking Stiles’s arm lightly. “I’m taking you shopping tomorrow. We’re getting you a suit.”

That was how Stiles ended up at a tailor’s, trying on jacket after jacket. Lydia kept making comments, like ‘it’s too loose on the arms’, ‘now this one’s too loose at the waist’, ‘can we take this one in a little?’, and ‘Stiles, you somehow hid these broad shoulders for me. Rude.’

“When will it be ready?” Lydia asked the tailor after Stiles had tried everything on. “He had an engagement to keep on Saturday.”

“Tuesday at the latest,” the patient tailor replied with a nod of his head.

“Good,” Lydia said, before she looked over at Stiles. “Get dressed. I’m craving Menchie’s.”

Stiles didn’t know what that was, but he quickly found out it was frozen yoghurt with every kind of topping you could imagine, and he was so down for it. He got a tart blue raspberry flavor with cheesecake bites, and he was pretty sure he didn’t need to fill up the bowl, but Lydia kept telling him to get more, so he did.

Lydia got a strawberry kiwi twist sorbet with boba bursts, and her bowl was as full as Stiles’s. She had a bite, humming in pleasure, before she fixed her gaze on Stiles. “So, you and Derek are boyfriends for real. How does that feel?”

“I don’t think it’ll feel real until after our first date,” Stiles replied, cheek bulging a little with sweets. “Every time I think about it, my brain kind of shuts down. I mean, our relationship has been purely physical up until now. I don’t even know his middle name. Or his birthday.”

“Those are the kinds of questions you ask on a first date,” Lydia told with his a smile. “You also ask what kind of movies he likes, what genre of books he reads most and what TV shows he watches.”

Stiles made a face. “I don’t think Derek does entertainment. He never watches or reads anything when I’m around.”

“Maybe that’s because you’re around. He just wants to focus on you. I mean you do the same when you’re around him, right?” Lydia smiled as he blinked at her.

“You make too much sense to be a real person,” he informed her, and she chuckled.

“I was worried when Allison and I had our first date,” she said with a bit of a sigh. “I mean, we’d been friends since high school, but I had this niggling worry that she wouldn’t find me interesting enough to date.” She shrugged as Stiles lifted his brows. “I was a total wreck, and she was worse. We ended up laughing about it, and transitioning from BFFs to girlfriends went smoothly.” She reached forward and set her hand on Stiles’s. “It’s okay to be nervous.”

Stiles smiled a little, nodding.

“Besides, I’ll let you in on a little secret,” Lydia said, and Stiles leaned forward, eyes wide. “You haven’t seen the way Derek looks at you when you’re talking about something you’re passionate about. He gets this reverent little smile. Like you hung the moon.”

Stiles dropped his eyes, an unstoppable smile spreading across his face.

“Kind of like that,” Lydia said.

Stiles flushed and tried to focus on his food, but all he could think about was how he wanted to smooch Derek’s face.


Stiles was convinced he looked ridiculous in his suit, but people kept telling him that he looked dashing. He wasn’t used to formal wear that actually fit. He was used to off the rack or bargain bin stuff that engulfed his body and made him look shapeless. He was pulling at his tie so much that Lydia smacked his hand.

When the doorbell rang, Stiles let out a shriek. “I’m not ready!” he gasped, running through his room and into the bathroom to brush his teeth for the third time. It was silly that he was afraid to face Derek, but honestly he’d rather spank him in front of onlookers than discuss an appetizer to get in a fancy restaurant.

“I’ll get it,” came Scott’s voice, floating on what sounded like amusement.

Yeah, that was good. Scott would be able to stall Derek for--oh no. Stiles paused mid-brush. He hadn’t introduced Derek to Scott and Kira yet. He spat out the toothpaste and rushed out of the room, almost skidding into Derek.

...Who looked stunning. He had a crisp black suit with a plum colored tie that made the green in his hazel eyes pop. Stiles forgot how to language as he stared at him, eyes wide and mouth open.

Derek gave him a smile. “Hey,” he said.

Stiles gave a withering ‘heeey’ back, before he cleared his throat. “Hey yourself, um, you look great.”

“Thanks,” Derek said, touching his own tie. “My sister gave me this a couple birthdays ago. I haven’t had a reason to wear it…” He licked his lips. “Until now.” He flicked his eyes away.

Oh my God, Derek was nervous too. The helped ease Stiles’s anxiousness a bit.

Scott cleared his throat, and they both looked over. “So,” Scott began, talking at a lower register, which made Stiles’s eyebrows come together. “Have fun. Be safe. Be home by eleven. And Stiles, you have toothpaste on the corner of your mouth."

Stiles’s face flushed with heat, and he rubbed vigorously at his mouth. “You--No--That--Ugh.” Stiles grabbed Derek’s hand, pulling him toward the door. “I’ll be home when I want to!” He knew Scott was joking, but that didn’t mean Stiles wasn’t so embarrassed that he wanted to die.

Derek just laughed like it was the most charming thing he’d experienced.

They moved down to the parking lot and over to Derek’s sleek Camaro, and Stiles shuffled and stuttered when Derek opened the passenger door for him. He sank into the soft leather seat and couldn’t help but fidget. “You know, this is the first time I’ve ever been in your car,” he said when Derek got in, before he clicked his seat belt into place. “It smells nice. And it’s really clean.” He made a face, because that sounded less silly in his head.

Derek pressed his lips together as he turned the key in the ignition, and the car purred to life.

“Shut up,” Stiles huffed, dropping his eyes to where Derek was gripping the gear stick. There were things about this that he probably shouldn’t have found hot, like the way his long fingers gripped upon changing gears. Oh, and the tendons shifting underneath the skin. That too. God, he was screwed for the night if he was already obsessing about body parts.

“I’m used to it by now,” Derek said simply as they zoomed down the road.

For some reason that made Stiles all warm inside. Derek already knew of his eccentricities, and he accepted them. That was usually the hurdle Stiles had to hop when he was meeting new people or trying to go on dates. Not everyone was suited to handle his particular… brand of silliness. But Derek was.

Derek also didn’t mind when Stiles started playing with the stereo, so obviously he was a saint.

They pulled up to a fancy looking building with a red carpet and velvet ropes. A man opened the door for Stiles, and Stiles blinked up at him. “Oh, uh, thanks,” he said as he got out and smoothed the front of his pants. he was worried he had a wedgie, but he wasn’t going to pick at it with people looking.

Derek handed his keys over to the valet, before he brushed his fingers over Stiles’s hand and led him up to the restaurant, and Stiles felt like he was floating.

“Good evening,” the hostess said as they approached. “What is the name on your reservation, please?”

“Hale,” Derek replied.

The hostess tapped a few times on her tablet. “First name?”

“Derek.”

“Ah yes, there it is.” She picked up two menus and gestured for them to follow her. “Right this way, gentlemen.” She led them through the place where many couples were dining and to their own table. "Your server will be right with you.” She set their menus down in front of them and walked off.

Stiles opened his menu, before he peered at Derek over it. “How did I know that there would be no prices listed?”

“Because you deserve the best, and the best is invaluable?” Derek asked with a smooth smile, before he looked down at his own menu.

“More like the best is so freaking expensive that it costs more than this expensive suit Lydia refused to let me buy myself.”

“That too,” Derek agreed, pushing his lips together to fight off his own amusement.

“You just wait until I pick the next place. Milkshakes and cheese covered curly fries,” Stiles threatened without any real heat.

“I can already feel the heartburn,” Derek replied breezily, before he lifted his eyes to Stiles’s. “I’ll go anywhere you want.”

“What if I want to go to McDonalds?”

Derek squinted. “Okay, maybe not anywhere...”

Stiles laughed, before he looked over as they were approached by their server. They both ordered wine and water. (Lydia had schooled him on what wines go with what food.) When the server returned with their drinks, they ordered their food and handed the menus over.

Then they just kind of looked at each other a moment, before they both smiled.

“So, um, I figured we should get some questions out of the way,” Stiles said, before he chewed his lip a bit. “What’s your favorite movie?--No, that’s impossible to answer. What is your favorite kind of movie?”

Derek looked like he’d just been handle a hundred part math question. “Uh,” he tried, before he looked down at the table and rubbed his scruffy cheek. “I think I’ll have go with space operas. I mean, Star Wars, of course.”

“Not the prequels though, right?” Stiles asked with a smirk and a squint.

“What prequels?” Derek replied, tilting his chin up and taking a drink of his water. “If I had to pick an absolute favorite though, I’d probably go with The Fifth Element.”

“Oh God, are you trying to turn me on?” Stiles asked in a low voice. “Now that I know you’re a nerd, you are 300% more sexy. I didn’t even know that was possible.” He took a sip of his wine and hummed a little. It was pretty tasty. “Okay, favorite TV series?”

“Doctor Who,” Derek said promptly.

“I want to have your babies,” Stiles told him with a serious look on his face.

Derek chuckled. “What about you? Movie and series?”

Stiles scratched at his chin. “I’m going to have to go with Return of the Jedi and Firefly.”

“Our hypothetical babies would be rather geeky,” Derek said before he took a drink of his wine.

“Totally.” Stiles hummed as he thought. “What about comics? Marvel or DC?”

“Marvel. I have a trunk full of Captain America comics.”

Stiles wrinkled his nose. “I want a divorce. You can have the fake kids on weekends.”

That made Derek laugh, louder than he meant to if the way he covered his mouth and darted his gaze around.

“Maybe you can still be saved. What are your favorite books?” Stiles leaned forward a bit.

“The Discworld series, or anything by Terry Pratchett and/or Neil Gaiman to be honest.”

Stiles grinned. “And we’re remarried. What are your favorites from Discworld?”

Mort and Equal Rites, probably, if I had to narrow it down. I just really love the Death and Witches series.” Derek looked like it genuinely pained him to choose.

“Death and City Watch for me, and if I had to pick, probably Soul Music and Guards! Guards!.” Stiles let out a sigh, so happy he was on this date. He hadn’t eaten his foot once yet.

The arrival of their food put a halt on their conversation. Stiles kind of wished that he'd ordered steak when he saw Derek’s plate, but when he took a bite of his own chicken he regretted nothing. They ate in relative silence, just the sounds of glasses and silverware clinking as ambiance. Their server came over to ask how they were doing once, smiling when they groaned happily at her.

When his plate was clean, Stiles leaned back and patted his belly. "Oh God, I'm so full. I will never eat again." Derek would probably have to roll him out to the car.

The server came over, and as she was clearing their plates, she said, "Did we save room for dessert tonight? Our specialty is death by chocolate cake."

Stiles let out a near pained noise. "That sounds so good. Let's do it?" He looked at Derek, who nodded with a smile. "I have an extra stomach for cake."

"I'll have it right out for you," she said, carrying their dirty plates away.

"This date is going to end in a food coma. I can see it now," Stiles said, slouching in his chair.

Derek chuckled, before he froze and all the amusement fell right off of his face. He stared over Stiles’s shoulder.

Stiles blinked at him. "What?" he asked, turning to look at whatever had Derek’s attention, and his eyes went wide. "Oh," he said with much conviction, blood running cold.

Walking into restaurant was Laura Hale, on the arm of a handsome man and wearing a dark purple dress. She didn't seem to notice them, but when she and her date were being led through the place, her casual surveying meant her eyes eventually landed on them. Her expression changed from at ease to shocked, and she stopped walking. When her date looked at her in question, she murmured something to him that had him going after the hostess by himself.

Laura walked over to them, her clutch purse against her stomach and a sour twist to her lips. "Hello, baby brother," she said carefully. "What are you doing?"

"Having dinner," Derek told her, meeting her gaze even though he looked like he wanted to slighter under the table and hide.

Laura looked at Stiles then back to Derek. "With your assistant?" she asked, and Derek nodded. "Is this a date?"

That sounded like Laura was giving him an out. Derek could have said no, could have pretended it was a dinner between colleagues, like Derek was thanking Stiles for his hard work at the office.

But Derek tilted his head up. "Yes," he replied firmly.

Laura’s face scrunched up like she smelled something particularly unsavory. "Derek," she said, her voice an urgent whisper. "You have to know what a breach of conduct that is. There’s a reason we do not date employees at the firm."

Derek stood then, rather abruptly, and caused his chair to scrape backward. "Maybe I don't want to work at the firm anymore. Has that ever crossed your mind?"

Laura’s eyes went huge. "Derek--"

"No one ever asked me if I wanted to be partner. It was just expected of me. But I don't want to represent the clientele we get anymore."

Laura’s face softened. "Then what do you want?" she asked him quietly.

"I want to do pro bono work," Derek told her with a sigh, rubbing the back of his neck. "There are people out there that can't afford a good attorney, and the system is taking advantage of them. I want to help them, not just the white collar clients we get at the firm. I want to make a difference."

"Why haven't you said anything before?" Laura asked him.

Derek pulled out his wallet and dropped some large bills on the table. "What does telling you accomplish? I'll have to do it on my own." With that, he walked off.

Stiles was left at the table, and Laura looked at him. He gave her wide eyes. "Uh, I should go," he said as he wiggled out of his seat and got up. "Yes. Bye." He hurried away, nearly bumping into their server, who had a massive piece of chocolate cake with two forks. He quickly apologized to her as he passed.

He caught up with Derek at the valet station. "I'm so sorry," was the first thing out of his mouth, and Derek just kept his eyes forward. "This is all my fault. If you hadn't brought me here, your sister wouldn't have seen us. Now everything is all--"

"Thank you," Derek cut in, turning his head toward Stiles.

"Say wha?" Stiles blurted.

"You're right. This is all your fault," Derek said, before he swallowed hard. "Months ago you suggested that I should do my own thing. No one had ever said that might be an option. No one but you." He chewed his bottom lip a moment. "It's been in my head ever since. At first I tried to ignore it, because it felt ludicrous to me. But as time went on it started to feel more like a viable option."

Derek reached out and took Stiles’s hand, giving him a soft smile. "It's also all your fault, because when I'm with you, I feel like I can do anything."

Stiles grinned as he squeezed Derek’s hand. "You can do anything," he told him. "And it’s not because of me. As dorky as it sounds, you're strong and awesome and all the good stuff. I believe you can accomplish anything you set your mind to."

Derek swallowed, before he rubbed at his eyes. "Fuck, you're going to make me cry."

Stiles chuckled, before he turned his head as the valet came up with Derek’s keys. He took him because Derek’s hands were occupied. "If you're incapacitated with tears, I can totally drive."

"Yeah, no, that's not going to happen," Derek said, taking the keys back.

Stiles just grinned the whole ride home.


At work on Monday, Stiles was down at the cafeteria, having lunch with Erica. She was chatting about something when she stopped and blinked hugely. The next thing Stiles knew was Derek sitting down next to him and giving him a shoulder bump. Erica was silent a few beats, before she started to squeal high enough that there was probably dogs howling somewhere.

After lunch, Stiles and Derek were both in Derek’s office. Stiles was taking down a list of things Derek needed from the file room. Then the door opened, and they both looked over. There was a man there in a three piece suit with his black hair slicked back, blue eyes bespeckled and his facial hair neatly trimmed. He seemed familiar, but Stiles couldn’t place where from.

"Um," Stiles started, turning toward the man. "I'm sorry, but you can't just--"

"I think you'll find that I can," the man said as he walked in and slid his hands into his pockets. "It is my building, after all."

Stiles’s brain grinded to a halt. "You're Peter Hale."

“I am,” Mr Hale said, walking in and seating himself in the chair in front of Derek’s desk. “And I would like to have a word with my nephew.” He crossed one of his legs over the other, pant leg lifting up to show off an argyle printed sock.

“Oh,” Stiles said, before he started to walk about toward the door, giving Mr Hale a wide berth.

“Don’t go anywhere, Mr Stilinski. What I have to say involves you too, and I’m sure Derek would tell you right away.” He didn’t sound upset. He actually sounded quite amicable, almost warm.

Stiles looked at Derek, who nodded minutely at him. “Kay,” Stiles said, sidestepping over to stand next to Derek’s desk, eyes a bit wide like a deer between predators.

Mr Hale laced his fingers over his lap. “Laura tells me you are no longer interested in working for the firm,” he said, lifting his chin a bit.

“That’s not--It’s not because I’m not appreciative of what I have here.” Derek practically sputtered. “It’s just that I--”

“Whatever your reasons for wanting to leave,” Mr Hale interrupted smoothly, and Derek shut his mouth with a click. “You should have voiced them. If you are this unhappy, we could have made changes for you, Derek.”

Derek looked down, appearing properly scolded. Stiles shifted closer to him, wanting to touch but knowing that he shouldn’t.

“But that doesn’t matter,” Mr Hale said, waving his hand in the air like he was clearing away smoke. “What matters is that I need to know what you plan to do in order to help you.”

Derek lifted his eyes, blinking. “Huh?”

Mr Hale rolled his eyes toward the ceiling and heaved a sigh. “You honestly think that I’m going to just let you leave the firm and not see to it you have the best chance of success in your endeavors? I want to invest in your new law office and help you find clients.”

“Really?” Derek asked like it was far too good to be true.

“We’re family, you nitwit,” Mr Hale said with a smile. “It’s our responsibility to look out for each other.” He lifted a hand and examined his nails like he was bored. “Besides, if you fail, it will make us look bad.” He smirked.

Derek let out a breath like he’d been holding it, and he laughed softly. “Okay,” he said, nodding.

Mr Hale put both feet on the floor and stuff up. “Good talk. Laura and I are at your disposal as you figure things out. You’re not alone in this. We don’t want you to ever feel that you are without a support system.” He turned his blue eyes toward Stiles. “And we’re not the only ones, of course.”

Stiles shook his head, a stupid grin spreading across his face. He set his hand on Derek’s shoulder, and Derek covered his hand with his own.

“I’ll leave you to it then,” Mr Hale said, turning toward the door and walking out.

“Wow,” Derek breathed out, sinking back against his chair.

“When do we start?” Stiles asked, excited as fuck about this.

Derek smiled gently up at him. “You don't have to go with me. I could crash and burn, and you'd be left jobless.”

Stiles scoffed, swatting Derek’s shoulder softly. “Or you could become the most powerful defense attorney in the world.”

Snorting, Derek should his head, smiling wider. “That’s not going to happen.”

Stiles shrugged. “Either way, you're my boyfriend, and I'm sticking by you.”

Derek gazed up at Stiles for a long moment, before he grabbed his shirt and pulled him down into a kiss.

Chapter Text

“Back up, plant train coming through, choo choo!” Laura announced as she barreled her way into Derek’s entryway, nearly knocking into him. She set the large container of potted plants down on the floor and turned to give Derek a smile and a hug. “God, I’m so excited you’re doing this. I can hardly contain it.”

Derek hugged her back, his lips curving in a pleased way, before he stepped back and closed the door. They were dressing up the house a bit because it was going to be the home of the Law Office of Derek Hale, Defense Attorney. It had made sense, because the house was so big, and 75% of it was disused. His work was close to his heart, so he wanted it physically close too. The study downstairs was his office. The second sitting room had been rearranged into a workspace for Stiles. The unused bedrooms upstairs would be changed, as needed, when Derek hired paralegals.

“What did you get?” Derek asked his sister, looking down at the plants.

“Some stuff I’m mostly sure you won’t kill,” she replied with a shrug, before she started listing them off. Jade, aloe, bamboo, a cactus, etc. She picked up the container again. “I’m pretty sure they’re supposed to be placed in the East or Southeast, according to feng shui, but I don’t care. I’m going to put them in your windows.” With that, she walked off.

Derek couldn’t keep the easy smile off his face. He walked into his office and found Stiles muttering as he pecked at the keyboard of Derek’s computer, mostly hidden behind the 32” screen. “What are you doing?” he asked, walking over to the desk and peeking at what Stiles was doing. “Facebook?”

“I’m making you a business page,” Stiles said brightly, shooting him a grin. “Then I’m going to make you a personal page, because you need to have it. I demand it.”

Derek snorted. “Okay.” He grabbed a second chair and rolled it around to sit next to Stiles. “Why do I need a business Facebook page though?”

“Nowadays, social media is interwoven into all kinds of advertising. You can pay to have signs and business cards, but no word travels faster than what’s trending on Facebook, Twitter and Tumblr. It’s how you get new, younger clients in. It’s just as good as word of mouth. People will be talking forever about a law office that does work pro bono or on a sliding scale.”

He clicked a couple buttons then looked over at Derek. “Don’t worry. I’ll maintain it, so you don’t have to.”

Derek let out a breath of relief. “That’s good to hear.” He wasn’t exactly the most social of people. That much could be deduced without him even opening his mouth. The interface of Facebook looked interesting though.

“Yup,” Stiles said with a grin, before he leaned back and popped the joints of his hands. “Okay, I’m going to add more about the company when there’s more to add.” He chuckled and changed the page. Sign Up it said. “Okay then, first name: Derek. Last name: Hale.” He paused and slowly turned his head toward Derek. “What’s your middle name?”

“Samuel,” Derek told him with a tilt of his head.

Stiles’s eyes went a bit wide and unfocused, before he let out a snicker and turned back to the screen.

“What?” Derek asked, lifting a brow.

“I’m just imagining your mom yelling at you as you, three years old, run through the house, sopping wet from a bath.” His voice went high and a bit shriek-like. “Derek Samuel Hale! You get your ass back here!”

Derek couldn’t help the roll of his eyes. “My mother does not sound like that,” he told him. She would be amused by the impersonation though, and she would probably do that gigglesnort she was famous for.

“Yeah, well, I wouldn’t know, now would I?” Stiles asked haughtily, pushing his bottom lip out.

“I told you that you can meet my parents when they get back from China,” Derek said on a fond sigh.

Stiles chuckled. “I know, I know. And you’ll meet my dad at Thanksgiving, because I’m dragging you kicking and screaming to Cali.”

“I look forward to it,” Derek told him with sincere honesty. He wanted to meet the man that raised Stiles and shaped him into the completely ridiculous and totally lovable man that Derek couldn’t see himself without.

He then had a thought. “What’s your middle name?”

Stiles paused, fingers poised over the keys as his eyes went wide. “Uh,” he started, swallowing, before his head slowly turned toward Derek. “If I tell you, you can’t laugh.”

“I won’t laugh,” Derek told him.

“Yeeeaah, well. You know how my first name is Polish, right? Sobiesław?” Stiles asked, and Derek nodded. “My middle name is Polish too.” He slid his eyes away, before he scooted the chair closer to Derek and whispered low like a national secret. “Ferdynand.”

Oh my God. Derek pressed his lips together to halt any surprised laughter that wanted to burst out. He tried to keep a straight face as Stiles looked at him, but his eyelid was twitching, and he was pretty sure he was going red.

Stiles sighed heavily. “You look like you have to take a massive dump. I’d rather you laugh than look like that. Go ahead.”

Derek let his laughter explode out of him, probably loud enough to be heard through the house. He couldn’t help it. It was the funniest thing he’d ever heard, and it would be one of those things he’d remember at inappropriate times and snicker about.

“I probably hate you,” Stiles said briskly, so Derek leaned in and pressed his lips to Stiles’s jaw. Stiles chuckled and lifted his hand to pat Derek’s cheek, running his fingers through the fuzz there. “Okay, what password do you want?”

“Uh,” Derek said, looking at the screen.

“You’ve got to have some kind of generic password you use, right? We can just do a variety of that.” When Derek just shrugged, Stiles blinked at him like he was talking to a wall. “What was your company email password at the firm?”

“The IT guy just made one up for me. I still have it on a sticky note in my briefcase.” Derek did not see a problem with that, but now Stiles was staring at him like he was sprouting eyes all over his exposed skin.

Murmuring a soft, ‘Oh my Gooood,’ Stiles turned back to the computer screen. “QWERTY123 it is!” He typed that out and hit the continue button. “Once you have been properly educated on internet security, you can change it. Just don’t use names. Or places. Or Camaro.”

Well that just dashed all of Derek’s dreams.

A minute or so later, Stiles picked up his phone and turned it towards Derek. “Smile!” he chirped, and Derek did as commanded, feeling a bit silly, but Stiles obviously knew what he was doing. Then he watched as Stiles transferred the picture to the computer and set it up as Derek’s Facebook image.

Derek leaned in, watching Stiles decide certain features, before a thought crossed his mind. “Does this make us Facebook official?” he asked.

“Wha?” Stiles asked, turning his head toward him.

“It’s something Laura asked me. If we were Facebook official. I didn’t really know what she was talking about. But are we now that I have a Facebook?” He blinked at Stiles when he just continued to stare. “No?”

“Not quite,” Stiles said slowly, before he started clicking things. “First we have to be Facebook friends.” He went to the search bar and typed ‘Stiles Stilinski,’ pulling up his own page. He clicked a button. “Okay, requested.” His phone beeped a second later, and he picked it up, tapping at it a second. “And accepted.”

Derek could only watch, absorbing all that Stiles was doing like a sponge. He was quickly learning what buttons did what, and he would go browsing for himself when Stiles was done.

“Now to change your status to In A Relationship Wiiiiith…” Stiles clicked a button or two. “Me.” His phone bleeped again, and Stiles poked it. “And accepted. Now we’re Facebook official.”

“Good,” Derek said, leaning back and nodding. “Now everyone will know.”

Stiles snorted. “Well, you’ll have to add them as friends first, but yeah, that’s the idea.”

Derek nodded, before he shifted closer and pressed lips to Stiles’s, pulling a little moan from him.

He had been just a bit worried that given free reign with affection he wouldn’t enjoy it as much, but that wasn’t the case. Now that he was allowed to kiss and touch everywhere they went, he couldn’t get enough of it. It wasn’t like he was molesting Stiles in public, but he draped an arm over his shoulders at the supermarket and held his hand at the theatre. He gave him little kisses in restaurants.

It was nice.

Laura poked her head into the room after a couple minutes. “Hey, you dorks, accept my friend requests,” she said, and they looked over at her.

“That was fast,” Stiles said with a chuckle as Derek scratched at his cheek.

“Erica has lightning texting ability,” she said as Stiles multitasked on his phone and the computer. She stepped in and held up two plants. “Which one do you want in here and which in Stiles’s office?”

“Oh, can I have the bamboo?” Stiles asked, looking to Derek.

“You can have whatever you want,” Derek told him, all too seriously.

“Gross,” Laura said with a breezy sigh, before she set a little cactus on his desk then walked out to put the bamboo across the hall in Stiles’s office.

“Oh,” Stiles said, turning in his chair so their knees knocked together a bit. “Scott and Kira are going out tonight, and they want to know if we want to double.”

“Sure,” Derek replied.

Dates, double or triple, were quickly becoming part of Derek’s routine. He’d never been out of the house so much in his life, but since it was with Stiles, he definitely didn’t mind.