Pumpkin spice is in the air, wafting from the Starbucks kiosk located just inside the grocery store.
Stiles is perusing a giant pallet display of pomegranates, when he notices the glittery leaf decor and styrofoam pumpkins. There’s also a poster with a white haired woman proclaiming ‘Don’t forget the cranberry sauce!’ on it.
So it’s that time of year again.
He rounds the King’s Hawaiian display and heads for check out. Makes a mental note to talk to his dad about their plans for this corporate day of thanks that was coming up next week.
Thanksgiving used to be fun when Stiles was a kid. His mom had been a stereotypical happy omega in the kitchen. She’d loved cooking and feeding her boys, and she would spend days baking and cooking in preparation. Not just for their family either, but for the handful of deputies that would come over too. He remembers the way his grandpa would make green beans and dump two canisters of fried onions on top-- that used to be Stiles’s favorite.
The holidays were a joyous time in the Stilinski house. It was always something to look forward to. Eating leftover turkey and stuffing sandwiches and having five full days off of school.
Now though, it’s just a day where Stiles and the sheriff eat pizza and watch football. Or doze on the couch.
They don’t talk about missing Claudia.
They just cut into their $3.99 store bought pumpkin pie and take shots of whip cream directly from the can. They both go to bed early.
It hasn’t been a special day in their house in a very long time.
“So Daddy-o, we slumming it at the diner for Thanksgiving this year, or should we order one of those pre-made dinners from the grocery? Or deep dish again?” Stiles asks that evening, while he and his dad are clearing the table after dinner.
It’s an inevitable conversation. With just the two of them these days, there isn’t much of a point to spending the day in the kitchen slaving away at the stove.
“Actually I’ve been meaning to talk to you about that,” the sheriff says. “I may have, sort of, invited the Hales over.”
Stiles stares, gobsmacked, at his dad. He doesn’t even ask Scott over, how could his dad have gone behind Stiles’ back and invited his partner and her family over?
“Kind of-sort of, or you did?” Stiles gives his dad a questioning look, quizzical eyebrow and all.
“It’s just that Talia’s husband is away fighting that huge wildfire in New Mexico that’s been going on for weeks now. You know the one right?”
And yes, Stiles knows.
“So it’s just her and her kids, and she’s been so down in the dumps about it, because they usually make such a day of it.” Stiles can see the pleading in his dad’s eyes. “And I told her we don’t do much. So somehow we decided that they’d come here and the six of us would have a nice day together. And next year we’ll join them at their house.”
“But---” Stiles starts to protest.
The sheriff interrupts him before he can try to persuade him to cancel. “Aren’t you in some of the same classes as Derek? You two have a lot in common from all the stuff Talia tells me.”
Stiles sighs. “No dad. He’s a mathlete and doesn’t do sports. We don’t exactly run in the same circles.”
“Also. They make four different kinds of pie.” Everything makes so much sense now, his dad was persuaded with the promise of a sugary heart attack.
“You’re only having one slice dad. ONE SLICE. And that’s final.”
A look of victory crossed his dad’s face. “Fine,” he agrees happily.
Stiles is still a bit crestfallen, though, and it’s written across his face. “It’s always been us, and I’m not going to lie, it’s going to be weird having other people in the house.”
And the sheriff gets it, because he pulls Stiles into a hug. “It’s time to try something new, son. Your mom would’ve wanted us to be a little bit adventurous. She wouldn’t have wanted us to be alone, ignoring the day because of her. Or lack of her.”
“Okay,” Stiles says, caving. “Fine.” He’ll spend the day with the Hales if it makes his dad happy.“But I’m not going to babysit Derek just because we’re in the same year. I don’t care how much you think we have in common.”
The sheriff claps Stiles on the shoulder and that’s the end of the conversation.
“Why does Stilinski always have to look so smug? He’s always rolling his eyes too. And what’s with all the hand gestures? It’s vulgar.”
Derek has been staring at Stiles, where he’s sitting at the jock table, for most of lunch. He hasn’t looked at Derek’s table once, too caught up in his own alpha jockiness to glance at the mere mortals at the nerd table.
Boyd, Erica and Derek are supposed to be going over Combinatorics before next week’s Mathletes match against East BHHS, but since the conversation with his mother this morning about spending Thanksgiving at the sheriff’s house, he’s had stupid Stiles on his brain all day.
“Me thinks you doth protest too much,” Erica sing-songs, beaming.
Derek looks away from testosterone central and repositions his thick glasses, pushing them up his nose. He looks squarely at Erica, narrowing his eyes at her. “No.” Derek knows what’s she thinking, and she needs to get the fuck out of his head. “Just no. Anyway, I like my men like I like my cheese.”
Erica’s eyebrows shoot up. “Stinky, white and moldy?”
Derek groans, and rolls his eyes dramatically. “Mature,” he says with a frown. “And smart! I like them smart, and let’s face it, he’s neither of those things.”
That elicits a huff and smirk from Boyd.
“Whatever. You sooo want to go to pound town with him. You want his alpha bone, quit pretending otherwise,” Erica chides.
Erica is Derek’s best friend and knows him too well, but he wishes she’d not be so damn vocal about how well she knows his hidden desires. Derek has a reputation to maintain, and making his friends think that Stilinski is a dumb jock is front and center. Who he jacks off to in the privacy of his room is wholly his business. Anyway, Stiles is never going to look twice at Derek. It’s a lost cause.
“You can’t help who you’re attracted to,” Boyd says. Both Derek and Erica are shocked out of their thoughts at the words, because Boyd is their friend and sits with them, but he rarely says anything. Sometimes he can go a whole day and not join in on their conversation at all. Boyd is looking at Erica through this though, like maybe he wasn’t talking to Derek at all.
It’s strangely wise. And unfortunately true. How the hell is Derek going to make it through an entire day at Stiles’s house? Smelling his alpha hormones. Seeing him in his element. It’s going to be torture. Derek is going to have to jack off twice before he goes over there just so he doesn’t accidentally slick his boxers from seeing Stiles’s unmade bed or dirty socks or something.
“Interesting,” Erica says, and this time it’s her that can’t look away from Boyd. She turns her attention back to Derek. “Follow your dick for a change Der. Get out of your head for two seconds. You’re an attractive omega and you’re the smartest person I know. You deserve all the good things. Even if it’s some dumb jock knot.”
Derek sighs, hating, for the dozenth time that day, that she knows him so well.
The Hales arrive at the Stilinski house on Thanksgiving morning at ten am. Stiles is still in his pajama bottoms and his hair's a mess, he’s rubbing sleep from his eyes and it’s waaay too early to be dealing with strangers in his house.
When he goes downstairs, Talia and his dad are unpacking the bags they brought over. Talia’s kids are all standing at the counter-- Laura is doing something with her phone, Cora is staring at the table and Derek is staring at the floor.
“Hey kiddo. Want to help us get set up?” his dad asks. The Hale kids all turn to look at Stiles, and he feels weirdly naked, even though he’s in his sleep clothes.
“I want to help,” Cora pipes up, eager. “I always help with the cooking.” Talia converses with the sheriff and they decide to have Cora and Talia do most of the cooking, while the sheriff helps out showing them where everything is located, that way he can still watch football.
“I’ve got homework, I’m just going to hang out in my room today if that’s okay.” Stiles says, looking to his dad for confirmation.
“Sounds fine to me, as long as our guests don’t mind.”
Talia looks at her son and then back at Stiles. “Can Derek hang out with you? He’s got school work to do too. Maybe you two could entertain each other for the afternoon, or study together?”
Stiles groans, because he just knew he was going to get saddled with Derek. He'd specifically told his dad he wasn't interested in babysitting. He narrows his eyes at his dad, who just shrugs. Traitor.
“Derek and Laura are both welcome to hang out in my room,” Stiles concedes.
“I’m going for a walk,” Laura says instead. She looks like she’s itching to get the hell out of there. Laura strolls past Stiles and heads for the front door.
“Alright,” Stiles says, and turning to Derek adds, “follow me, I guess.”
Stiles leads Derek up the stairs to his room, where he shuts the door and locks it.
Derek raises an eyebrow at the locked door, then looks around the room. He looks a little lost, like he's not sure what to do with himself.
“Sorry, I just don’t like people coming into my room unannounced,” Stiles tells Derek. “I finally got my dad to soundproof and put a lock on my door when I went through my first rut last year. I’ve gotten really used to my privacy. You can leave whenever you want.”
“It’s cool,” Derek says.
“You want to put to your backpack down, take a load off dude?” Stiles gestures for Derek to sit, points at his crumpled bed, and then goes to sit at his desk himself.
“Alright,” Derek says, and there is a sudden spike of something strange in the air. Derek is giving off a weird smell, well weirder than usual, and Stiles isn’t sure if he’s done something wrong to provoke it.
Derek goes over to the bed, sits on it gingerly. He positions himself with one leg tucked under him and one leg on the floor. He opens his backpack and gets out his Trigonometry book and notebook.
“So I guess you’re actually going to do homework, huh?” Stiles says incredulously. “You are such a nerd, dude. It’s Thanksgiving break. Time to be lazy and do fuck all.”
Derek huffs at him. “Didn’t you just tell our parents you couldn’t stay downstairs because you had homework to do?”
“Well, yeah, but that’s just bullshit so I don’t have to be bored out of my skull hanging out with them all day. I have a perfectly good PS3 here and two controllers. Wanna play?”
“I’m not really any good at games,” Derek admits. “I’ve never had a console. I played the old school nintendo games with my sister when we were younger, but the last thing I played was Dr. Mario.”
“Stiles studies Derek for a moment. There’s something about his awkward turtle routine that fascinates Stiles.
“I bet you’d be good at games with your math brain,” Stiles says, thoughtfully. Because Derek would probably kick his ass if he spent any time at all actually having fun and acting like a teenager, instead of always in his books.
“I can give it a try, if you want,” Derek says. “I don’t promise to be good or anything, though.”
Stiles snorts. “Like you aren’t good at everything you do, nerd boy.”
“Hey jock knot, I only get good at things because I practice.”
Derek’s sauciness has Stiles smiling. He decides that he likes this side of Derek. “Okay,” he says, “So I’ve been on a Dead Space kick lately, but we can play Gran Turismo or something that you’d be able to catch on easy with.”
Derek moves to sit by Stiles on the floor where he’s pulled out both controllers. They play for an hour or so, exchanging small talk, with Stiles mostly giving him pointers. Their exchanges are easy. They talk about a lot of things, and when the conversation moves onto books, Stiles gets so enraptured telling Derek about his new obsession with Hamilton: An American Musical, that he doesn’t realize that they aren’t even playing the game anymore. Just talking. It’s nice.
Stiles puts on the cast album for Derek and shows him the biography of Alexander Hamilton by Ron Chernow that he’s read twice now. All because he saw one youtube video of Lin-Manuel Miranda rapping at the white house. Stiles is passionate and shares all of his favorite parts that he’s underlined with Derek, and Stiles loves that Derek’s eyes stay bright with wonder the entire time. Most people tune Stiles out when he’s like this, so it’s nice that someone is actually listening and paying attention.
“You’re a lot smarter than you let on,” Derek tells Stiles a little while later.
Stiles blushes, a little embarrassed. Derek definitely isn't the person he'd thought he was either. He's surprised how much he's enjoyed the day so far. Derek isn’t as stuffy and goody two-shoes as Stiles was always led to believe. He’s actually alright. If Derek wasn’t always buried ten feet deep in his books, they could actually be friends.
When Laura knocks on the door around two pm. Stiles gets up and opens the door. She tells them that Talia is going to call dinner at around four. She takes one look at the set up and rolls her eyes at them.
“It stinks of boy in here, I’ll be on the couch,” she proclaims before heading back downstairs.
Stiles rolls his eyes, closes and locks the door again.
“So...want to watch a movie or something?” Stiles asks.
Derek shrugs his shoulders. “Don’t really care. I should actually try and get some of my homework done though since I’m going camping with Erica for the rest of the weekend.” Stiles deflates a little.
“What’s with your friend Erica anyway? She looks at me like I personally offended her in a previous life or something. She always looks so damn sour.”
Derek laughs at that.
“Well, in all fairness. She had a crush on you back in elementary school.” Derek clarifies. “And you told her to brush her bushy birds nest in front of the entire gym. Since then, you’ve not really been her favorite person.”
Stiles mouth dropped open in a silent "huh" as the memory obviously came rushing back. "Things are starting to make a lot more sense," Stiles said. “Well regardless, that group you hang out with is kinda weird, man. I get that you guys have the nerd monopoly, but you have a reputation that you are superior to everyone else.”
Derek frowns and turns away from Stiles, stung by the words.
“What about your friends?” Derek says, and this has Stiles’ interest piqued. “They aren’t all as wonderful as you make them out to be. Danny is alright, but Jackson Whittemore is a capital D Douchebag. The guy has been tormenting me since we were in the Latch Key program together in first grade. He might have amazing thighs, but he’s such a shithead.”
Something breaks in Stiles’s brain.“Wait, you’re gay? Or, bi? Whatever?” Stiles squeaks out. If Stiles’s eyes weren’t attached to his face, they would’ve popped out of his head and rolled to Derek’s feet.
“Gay.” Derek clarifies. “One hundred percent gay.” Stiles gestures for Derek to elaborate more, rolling his fingers at Derek.
“Figured it out when I was at band camp when I was twelve. One of my bunkmates and I couldn’t understand what was so great about getting to second base with a girl. Which seemed to be the obsession of all the other boys in my dorm. We both decided we’d much rather look at each other’s dicks.”
Stiles blinks, and it feels like he’s seeing Derek Hale for the first time. “Oh. My. God.”
Derek lifts a questioning eyebrow.
“Dude,” Stiles pauses, because he’s having an epiphany and he realizes he really wants to get at Derek’s dick right this instant. More than he’s ever wanted to get at anyone’s dick in the history of existing. “Can I jack you off?”
The words spill from Stiles’s mouth like an involuntary reflex.
Derek’s eyes go wide, and he pushes his glasses up his nose, although it looks like he does it more for something to do with his hands than anything else.
“It doesn’t have to mean anything,” Stiles blurts out. Like maybe that will help his case. He fidgets, desperate to do something with his hands, ideally something that involves them down Derek’s pants.
Derek deflates, though, literally the opposite of what Stiles wanted.
Stiles senses that he’s said the wrong thing. “I mean, I don’t subscribe to those bullshit Alpha-Omega standards they teach in Omega Dynamics Education. I don’t think omegas have to roll over and bare their neck and mate the first alpha that sniffs in their direction. I’m all for omegas having a healthy sexual appetite with as many or as few partners as they want.”
Stiles looks back at Derek, hopeful. “I just mean, I’d really like to jack you off. I want to touch a dick that I don’t see everyday. I’d like to feel how hot your skin gets. See you come. And it doesn’t have to mean I need to lock you down and claim you to make you feel good.”
Derek looks like he’s picking up what Stiles is putting down. “Okay,” Derek finally says, almost so softly that it knocks the air out of Stiles.
Stiles takes a deep breath, centers himself, and starts to move over to the bed to sit next to Derek. He trips on his own feet, almost faceplanting into the bed.
A small laugh escapes Derek’s throat, but just as Stiles is straightening himself up, a scent of nerves wafts through the air between them.
Stiles goes to sit on his side facing Derek. Derek is looking straight ahead, staring at the stupid decal Stiles has on his wall. Stiles reaches out, lightly places his hand on Derek’s thigh.
“Hey, look at me. This okay?” he asks. Derek looks at him and Stiles moves in to whisper in Derek’s ear. “Let me do everything, okay? Just sit back and enjoy it.” Derek nods at Stiles, giving him the go ahead.
The panic starts to even out in Derek. Stiles moves his hand up the inseam of Derek’s jeans.
“Spread your legs.”
Derek’s legs open for Stiles, and he puts his hands under himself so he isn’t tempted to stop what’s about to happen.
Stiles works the button of Derek’s jeans open. The tiny release has Derek jerking his breathing. Derek is hard.
Stiles looks at Derek, sees he’s sweating and flushed. Obviously nervous. Derek’s glasses have slipped down his nose.
“Do you want to take your glasses off?” Stiles realizes he’s never seen Derek without his big thick rims on. Hiding his eyes.
Derek breathes deep. “Nah. Why don’t you just take my pants off instead?”
“Bold,” Stiles smirks. “I like it.”
It’s obvious Derek is about to open his mouth to say something else, but then Stiles grabs the pull to his zip and drags it down, exposing Derek’s bulge to the air.
A wave of arousal hits Stiles’s nose then. And fuck, it a glorious scent. Undiluted and musky. Sweet and salty and unlike anything Stiles has ever smelled before.
“Goddamn you smell good,” Stiles confesses.
Derek squeezes his eyes shut, bites his lip. Steels his breathing.
Stiles tugs the top of his boxer briefs down, exposing Derek’s leaking cock and full balls. He has to tug Derek’s pants down his hips to get it all out in the open.
And Derek’s cock is beautiful. Flushed and wet, and larger than Stiles’ dick. His cock is all pink where the blood has filled it out. Derek’s head is half covered in foreskin, a droplet of precome sitting at the tip, barely peeking out at Stiles. There is a delicious thicket of hair covering Derek’s groin and he’s nice and hairy down his thighs.
Stiles scoots in closer. Plasters himself to Derek’s side so he can look down at his hand as he goes to grip Derek at the base of his cock.
“You’re so big,” Stiles says in amazement. He moves his fingers up Derek’s dick. “And your foreskin is so soft. I’ve never felt an uncut cock before.” Stiles moves in to whisper in Derek’s ear, painting the side of his face and neck with his breath.
Stiles is running his fingers up and down Derek’s length, exploring the foreign dick when a little bit of wetness drips down the tip and onto Stiles’s fingers.
“Niceeee.” Stiles spreads it between his fingers to play. He pulls Derek’s foreskin down, exposing his pretty pink head, all shiny and sensitive looking. “I bet you don’t even need lube do you?” he asks.
“Not-tt really,” Derek says brokenly. “Benefit of being uncut.”
He’s all keyed up from the slow teasing, Stiles can tell. So he decides to show him some mercy. He puts his whole fist around the tip and makes a long, sure stroke to the base, moving the skin with it. It takes him a second to figure it all out, but if feels nice in his hand.
Derek’s making these tiny moans, swallowing deeply now.
His smell is crazy good. Stiles strokes in a steady rhythm, up and down. He starts to twist his grip on the up stroke. Changing his grip and alternating his speed. Doing what he likes on himself, to Derek.
Derek’s foreskin is Stiles’s new favorite thing.
He stops his strokes to go back to playing with Derek’s foreskin--running his finger under the tip of his skin, watching his fingertip disappear in the fold.
And shit, Stiles starts to learn something about himself. He’s playing, but learning too. He’s at school right now. The school of Derek’s dick.
And it’s all such a turn on. Derek moans and shudders. And a generous glob of precome rips it’s way from Derek’s cock.
“Wonderful,” Stiles marvels.
A bit lands on Stiles’s hand and he doesn’t even think, he just licks it right off like it’s second nature.
Derek’s smell spikes at Stiles’s ministrations. And the sight of Stiles tasting him must affect Derek, because a new olfactory cocktail is hitting Stiles’s nose. The sight of Stiles so turned on seems to be turning Derek on too, and this time it’s not precome ejecting itself from his person, it’s a nice glob of slick pooling in his briefs.
“Fuckkkk,” Derek moans. That’s Derek’s body telling him he wants. He wants Stiles’s alpha cock all up in his omega cunt.
Derek is squirming next to him, his breathing erratic. So stiles takes his hand away and slips it to Derek’s nutsack. Starts massaging his balls and perineum.
Stiles is touching everywhere. Rolling his balls, tugging on the skin there, exploring how sensitive he is. And Derek is making the sweetest noises.
“Dude, yell if you want to, but please stop biting back your noises,” Stiles pleads.
So Derek does. Let’s his moans and heavy breathing fall from his mouth like a song. Stiles goes back to Derek’s cock. Stroking fast and with purpose. He’s jacking him sure and tight. Rubbing his finger over Derek’s cockhead on each upstroke.
Derek’s muscles are jumping in his stomach, his feet kicking out. He’s rolled his head back to Stiles’s headboard. His breathing sounds a little bit like he’s crying.
Stiles can’t take his eyes off his goal. he wants to see Derek shoot his load everywhere. But he also kind of wants to taste too. That’s not what he asked permission for. But fuck it.
“Is it okay...um. Can you blow in my mouth?” Stiles pleads.
And that must’ve taken Derek offline, because he thumps his head hard and grunts out as he blows all over Stiles’s hand and his own stomach and Stiles’s duvet.
“Fuck yeah,” Stiles turns his head and whispers into Derek’s ear.
Stiles is still stroking him slowly up and down, rubbing Derek’s come around the tip of his dick. Pulling the foreskin over it.
“Enough,” Derek says. “I can’t.”
And Stiles gets it. Derek is spent. And Stiles is now fully aware of how ridiculously hard he is, and fucking hell Derek smells good.
“God you smell so much better since you’ve come. A dude could get come drunk off of your scent. Geezus.”
“It’s my slick,” Derek answers.
“Your slick? Oh fuck Derek, are you wet?” Stiles’s dick twitches at that mental image.
“Yeah. I pretty much soaked my underwear. That felt amazing.” he says almost sleepily. After a moment he looks over at Stiles and his flushed face and down to Stiles’s pants which are tenting obscenely. “Do you want help with that?” Derek asks.
“Ummm. Well yeah. I’m a teenage boy. I basically want my dick touched like 24/7, but actually, if you’re up for it...I’d like to taste you.” There is a hopeful innocence in Stiles’s eyes.
“You just did,” Derek replies.
“No.” Stiles is nervous now, “I mean. I’d like to eat you out. If you’re open to it? We don’t have to do that if it’s not your thing, or this is all too much, or whatever, but like, I’ve never smelled anything as good as you right in this moment, and since you’re already so wet, I’d like to really taste you.”
Their faces are still really close, and Stiles realizes he’s never seen Derek without his glasses on before. And he looks so beautiful all flushed after coming.
“Can I see your eyes? I just realized I’ve never actually looked into your eyes before. You’realways hiding behind your nerd glasses.”
Derek nods, goes to take his glasses off, takes a deep breath and looks at Stiles.
“Wow. You’re eyes are really beautiful. I’ve never seen eyes that color before. And your eyelashes are so pretty. You’re really beautiful, dude.”
Derek blushes. Stiles made Derek blush, and his scent is still so strong, and this is probably the most amazing moment of his whole life. What the fuck is happening here.
“Yes,” Derek says. And huh?
“Yes, what?” Stiles asks.
“Yes you can, you know, taste me, if you still want to.”
“Oh I want.”
Stiles moves to Derek’s feet to face him. Starts to tug his jeans all the way off. Derek helps him, pushing everything down with Stiles. They look at each other, and there’s something unsaid in the air. But it’s obvious this is a monumental thing happening between them.
After Derek has been divested of his pants, underwear and shoes, Stiles goes to lift off Derek’s shirt too. He stops, asking a wordless permission, to which Derek nods and pulls off his shirt as well.
“How do you want to do this?” Derek asks.
“Can you flip over? I mean, are you comfortable on your belly? I want to be able to bury my face in your ass, that way you can ride my face too.”
“Yeah,” Derek says breathlessly.
Derek flips to his stomach, then goes to his knees slightly, his ass is presented for Stiles.
And fuck if that isn’t a sight to behold. Derek is hairy. Not too hairy, but his ass is dusted with a thin layer of hair, starting under the dimples of his back and getting thicker as it moves down his thighs. He wasn’t kidding. He’s super wet, almost dripping, and his hair is sopping wet with his slick.
Stiles places his hands on Derek’s hips, pulls him forward so he can get a better angle at his ass and moves in to finally taste that wetness that’s got Stiles almost going out of his mind.
He licks his lips and runs his tongue along Derek’s hole in one long lap. Swallowing all the slick he can gather with his tongue. It’s the single greatest thing he’s ever tasted in his whole unworthy life. Derek’s slick tastes sweet and milky.
Stiles commits after that, and begins lapping enthusiastically. Sucking on Derek’s loose rim, tongue fucking his swollen hole. And Derek is making the sweetest noises. Unlike when Stiles was jacking him off, he’s not holding anything back now. Sobbing his pleasure out as Stiles heartily eats his ass.
Derek is fully hard again. His heavy dick hanging low between his legs. Stiles grabs his dick and starts pulling at it as he continues to fuck Derek’s ass with his mouth.
His slick is flowing and Stiles’s face and chin are a mess. He’s been neglecting his own dick for so long now that it’s starting to be uncomfortable. He feels the need to put his dick inside of Derek’s warm, inviting ass, but he’s not really sure either of them are ready for that.
He pulls off from sucking Derek’s rim and sits back. Derek is writhing and whining at the loss of his mouth.
“Hey, Derek...Can I, um, can I rub off on you? I’m so hard, I need to get off. You taste so good. Can I just try something? I promise I won’t cross the line?” The words spill from Stiles. “I promise this isn’t one of those ‘just the tip’ situations, I just really want to feel you and I’m going to come so fucking quick. My knot is already swelling up. Please.”
And Derek looks back at him all disheveled, sees Stiles finally taking his own clothes off, and gets a glance at how rock hard Stiles is just inches from his ass. His knot starting to flair out at the base.
“Yeah,” Derek says, “go ahead, I trust you.”
That’s all the invitation Stiles needs. He grabs Derek’s hips and pulls his ass towards his cock, runs the tip across Derek’s open hole. Starts rocking back and forth over him. Running his dick through Derek’s slick. When he can’t take any more teasing, he pushes his dick down into the open space below his ass and begins fucking his thighs.
“Close your legs a little more,” Stiles directs. And Derek lessens the space and then puts a hand around himself and starts fucking his fist in tandem with Stiles’s thrusts.
It’s only a matter of a minute or two, because they are both so keyed up, that Stiles is coming all over Derek’s balls and thighs. He blows a huge load, spurting off like a hose all over Derek’s skin. His knot has swollen larger than it ever has when he was alone. It’s super sensitive, stretched so thin. He’s covered in sweat and his muscles are spent. He goes down, covering Derek’s back and forcing the both of them to the bed.
After a moment Stiles realizes that Derek hasn’t come again yet, so he gets up and rolls him onto his back. Sees how wrecked Derek looks.
“How about you finally blow in my mouth now. I really need to taste your come.” Derek nods, unable to contribute any words, he’s so far gone.
So Stiles bends down, sucks Derek’s cock into his mouth and jacks his forskin a few times until Derek is shooting off his second load into Stiles’s mouth. And jack-fucking-pot.
Stiles wipes his mouth off on his forearm and moves up the bed, settles down next to derek, and throws an arm over his torso.
They lay for a while sex dozing. Stiles comes to and stills when he hears Derek’s heart start to jump. He looks at him, and realizes he’s freaking out a little bit.
“Are you okay Derek? Is everything okay? You’re not regretting it are you?” Stiles is nervous, because that was his first time and it was amazing. But he’s not an omega and sex can mean something different for them than for an alpha.
“No, it’s fine. I’m alright,” Derek says. And he’s not lying so that puts Stiles at ease. “It’s just that I sort of envisioned my first time with someone to have a bit more kissing than that.
“Fuck Derek, I’m so sorry.” Stiles reaches out and turns Derek’s face towards him, keeping his hand there stroking down his neck. “I like kissing. We can kiss. I want to kiss you. I’m so sorry we did that backwards. I was just so shocked that you were gay and my brain was shouting at me to get at your dick and I should’ve done it differently. I should’ve kissed you first. Let me make it up to you.”
Derek nods. Turns his mouth and places a kiss on Stiles’s palm that hasn’t left Derek’s cheek. Then Stiles reaches forward and presses his lips to Derek’s.
They hold the kiss for a long time. It’s a pretty good first kiss as far as first kisses between two people go, but Derek opens his mouth and deepens it. Stiles follows his lead and they lay there exchanging tongues and air for a long time. Derek finally puts his hands on Stiles and wraps him around the waist as they make-out. It’s pretty great.
They only stop when someone knocks on the door.
“Dinner in ten minutes boys,” Stiles’ dad says. And the two reluctantly break apart, because they smell of sex and need to get cleaned up.
Stiles kisses Derek one last time. A peck on his clavicle, and gets out of bed, throwing on his discarded pajamas while Derek gets dressed on the other side of the bed.
“I’ll just be in the bathroom brushing my teeth,” Stiles says, “Come join me, it’s down the hall on the right.”
“I’ll be right there,” Derek answers. “I need a second.”
“K,” Stiles says and leaves the room.
Stiles brushes his teeth and studies his body. Other than his hair being one hundred percent disheveled, he looks okay. Not like he just devirginized his dad’s partner’s only son while they were making Thanksgiving dinner. Nope.
He realizes that he needs to do more cleanup than just brushing his teeth and hair though.
Stiles doesn’t want to wash the smell of Derek off of his hands, but he knows he has to. He can’t let the entire table know what they were just getting up to in his room. It really sucks, because he kind of just wants to crawl back into bed and jack off again with his nose buried in his fist. Derek’s omega scent, the smell of his slick mixed with Stiles’s alpha hormones is the most amazing thing that Stiles has ever experienced, and he’s starting to understand why alphas mate the first omega they fuck. Because Stiles isn’t sure life can get any better than this.
He wants more.
Derek comes into the bathroom, an almost shy look on his face. He’s still flushed from coming a second time. He’s gorgeous.
“I really need to get cleaned up. Or it’ll make for an awkward dinner.”
Stiles nods, rubs his hand from Derek’s neck down his back. Rubs over his ass one more time. Moves in close to smell him at his pulse point. Places a little kiss there. Feels Derek tense up, one last little moan escaping his mouth. They look at each other in the mirror again. Mutual recognition in their eyes of what’s transpired between them.
“Alright, I’ll leave you to it then. See you downstairs,” Stiles says as he saunters out and closes the door for Derek.
Dinner is strange. Laura cant break herself from her phone for the first thirty minutes. Cora just talks to Talia, probably because nobody really knows what to say to each other. Derek and Stiles continue to exchange glances and both catch the other one staring, causing the other to blush.
Laura catches on half way through dinner and starts giving Stiles the death glare. Like she knows Stiles just defiled her baby brother or something. It’s confirmed when Stiles sees her move in to take a deep sniff of her brother when the sheriff asks her to pass the oyster stuffing. Her smirk is all knowing.
Once dinner is over, Stiles gets stuck with the clean up, since he didn't help cook. When everything's done, Stiles and his dad walk the Hales to the door.
“Today was fun,” Stiles says to them, but really it’s just to Derek.
“So next year you two are coming to our house, and I won’t take no for an answer,” Talia proclaims.
The sheriff nods. "Of course, we'd love to, right Stiles?"
"Sure. I’d like that," Stiles says, thinking that he might actually mean it, if this year was anything to go by.
Stiles wants desperately to pull Derek to the side and exchange numbers, or do something, because he doesn’t want to leave it like this, but they are out the door before anything can really be done.
Stiles watches their car pull out from the curb and drive down the street. When he looks back, his dad is sitting in his chair, unbuttoning his pants, because he had three pieces of pie, but Stiles wasn’t really in the mood to stop him when all he could think about was how Derek looked when he was coming, and how fucking amazing his ass tasted.
He was doomed.
The first day back from Thanksgiving break is a strange one. Derek had almost made himself vomit from nerves thinking about what he was going to say, or how he was going to act once he saw Stiles.
But Stiles isn’t at the jock table when lunch rolls around. Derek feels sick. He worked himself up so hard and Stiles isn’t even here. He’s probably avoiding him.
Derek moves his food around his tray, unable to eat. Checking the table and the doorway every few seconds to see if Stiles might just be held up. The later into the lunch period it gets, the worse Derek feels.
“Okay. Spill it Hale,” Erica orders. “What gives? Why do you look like someone took a dump on your pillow and made you sleep next to it?”
And thank you Erica for that. Derek looks at her and for a second thinks of telling her, but tears are starting to prick his eyes and he’s just not ready to go there right now. He looks away and gathers his stuff up to leave without answering her.
“Oh no you don’t Derek,” she says, following him out into the hall.
They stop at his locker, and she puts her arms around him and forces him to hug her back.
“What’s wrong Der? Please tell me.” Derek takes a deep breath, gets the nerve up to tell her.
“I slept with Stiles Stilinski, and I think he’s avoiding me now.” The words find themselves out of his mouth, and now he’s left with the look of pity on Erica’s face. “I did what you said, and I listened to my dick for a change, and we fucked, and it was great, oh my god it was great. Better than I ever thought my first time would be. But I don’t even have his phone number, and he didn’t come to school today, and I think he’s avoiding me.”
“Wow. Geezus Derek. I’m not exactly Stiles’s number one fan, but I didn’t think he’d be like that.” She goes to give Derek another hug. It’s like she knows he needs physical contact right now to cope. They hold on to each other for a long time, until the next bell rings. “Maybe this is all a misunderstanding. Maybe he’s pining away for you at this very second and he’s just sick or something. Maybe you should wait until you’ve actually seen him before you fly into the sun Derek.”
He sighs, but figures that maybe she has a point.
“Let’s go study for the match tonight, and try to forget about him until tomorrow. Deal?”
“Deal,” Derek agrees.
East BHHS has won the last three matches against them. Derek exchanged his nerves over Stiles for his nerves for the match. His mom is here with Cora and they’re sitting with Boyd’s sister. Derek is going over his sample quiz from math club when he looks up and sees Stiles and Scott McCall walk into the auditorium.
Derek’s jaw almost drops to the floor. Erica bumps his shoulder and gives him a ‘told you so’ look when he turns to look at her. He’s blushing something fierce and when he looks back, Stiles is smiling at him and waving. He waves back and something bubbles up inside him.
He’s flushed and happy and suddenly his nerves over Stiles and the impending competition are gone. There is no reason on this earth that Stiles Stilinski would show up for a mathletes match unless he was totally into Derek the way Derek is into him.
BHHS is called the winner of test 1 and test 2 and are therefore crowned the winners of the round. Derek actually hears Stiles whooping in the audience when they announce the news.
After they get their trophies and Derek sees his mom and sister off, Stiles approaches him, Scott nowhere to be seen.
It feels like there’s electricity in the air.
“Hey champ,” Stiles greets with a full on smile on his face.
“Sorry I missed you today. Mandatory lacrosse captain meeting with coach at lunch. I tried to get out of it, but I couldn’t.”
“No biggie,” Derek lies, feeling relieved to at least know why Stiles wasn’t at lunch today. “I was hoping to see you though.” That puts a huge shit eating smile on Stiles’s face.
“Yeah? Me too. Actually when you guys left on Thursday night, I kicked myself because I realized I didn’t have your number. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you for days. I was going to text you dirty pictures on your camping trip. It was complete agony not being able to talk to you.”
This time it’s Derek’s turn to give Stiles his best attempt at a shit eating grin.
“Derek, I have something I need to say though. Do you want to go somewhere?” Stiles asks.
Stiles grabs Derek’s hand, “This okay?” And Derek nods, as they start to walk out of the auditorium to Stiles’s jeep.
Stiles gets the passenger door for Derek and then gets in the driver’s side. He steels himself and takes a deep breath once inside.
“Okay so the thing I wanted to say was this. I’m a complete moron.”
Derek laughs at that. Because Stiles is not a moron, but he thinks he knows where this is going. “Go on.”
Stiles shoots him a narrow eyed look but continues. “The thing is, I was stupid. I said something stupid and I can’t stop replaying it in my head. I told you that this doesn’t have to mean anything. That what we did doesn’t have to mean anything. Because I like to think of myself as an omegaist. And I want to be an ally and I want to champion omega sexual freedoms etcetera. But when I said that, I was being a damn fool. Because I really want this, what we maybe have between us, I want it to mean something. It does mean something to me.”
And Derek lets out a huge sigh of relief.
“Thank the gods,” Derek exhales, “because I like you, a lot, and I’d like this to mean something too.”
Derek reaches over the center console and kisses Stiles, and it’s like they are conveying all of their feelings for each other through their lips.
When things start to get a bit handsy, Derek breaks it off and gently pushes Stiles away. “Can we maybe, like, do boyfriendly things like go on a date before we fuck again?”
Stiles chokes a little at how forward Derek is being, but nods like his neck might break.
“Yes. Yesyesyes. I’m going to date you so hard, you have no idea what’s about to hit you. Then I’m going give you my knot until we’re both seeing cartoon dicks fly around our heads. Oh my god baby I’m going to do you so good.”
That elicits a laugh from Derek.
“And you’re totally going to come to my lacrosse games wearing my number and everyone is going to know that you’re my boyfriend and that I landed such a sexy omega athlete.” Stiles waggles his eyebrows.
Now that really has Derek laughing.
“Stiles, I have something to admit,” and Stiles’s laughter breaks a little and he looks a bit scared. “I hate lacrosse,” Derek admits.
Relief falls over Stiles’s face and he throws himself at Derek and kisses him silly.
“That’s okay, I hate math. I guess we are even.”