Derek pushed the other away, holding him off him even as his body screamed at him to pull him closer and give in to what his body wanted. Needed.
"Wha--why?" Stiles all but whined and that made it a little easier. His eyes flashed in an annoyed manner.
"This--us--can't continue," he said finally. Stiles pouted and Derek rolled his eyes. "Look. I let you keep helping me but I have to draw the line at that. Your father knew... he had an idea, anyway."
"You're sixteen years old, Stiles," he sighed. "I'm too old for you."
Stiles rolled his eyes and Derek glared. He had no right to be annoyed. Derek was the one being responsible even though he really didn't want to give two fucks.
"So what? I'm very aware of what I'm getting into. I know what I want. And for the record, you aren't that much older."
Derek's brows rose up and his mouth became a thin line. Was he trying to make this harder than it was already? He seethed silently, breathing harshly through his nose. He pulled away and glared at the other to stay where he was.
Miraculously, Stiles listened.
"You're sixteen, Stiles. I'm twenty two. That's six years. How old is not much older to you?"
He shook his head with finality.
"No. This can't continue. I'm sorry."
Stiles sighed and stared at him. Finally the younger male shrugged.
Derek looked up, disbelieving.
"What do you mean 'fine'?"
Stiles rolled his eyes.
"Fine is what I mean by fine, Derek. I'll do it... leave you alone. Well, in that way. But we're still working together on the show."
Derek wasn't so sure that was a good idea but he didn't want to end things completely with Stiles. For all he was a pain in his ass most of the time, and eye candy in the worst possible way, Derek couldn't deny that he enjoyed the other's company.
Not that he'd ever tell Stiles that. Ever.
"Okay. We'll work together still. But that's it."
Stiles nodded rapidly, grinning.
With that, Derek set to work on Loki as Stiles did the same with Henrietta.
It wasn't a day before they were rutting against each other, Derek pressing Stiles against a tree. They were taking the horses out to pasture and he had his mouth on Stiles's throat, his tongue laving at that damned inviting Adam's apple, chasing it as it rose and fell every single time Stiles swallowed.
"Fuck, Derek," the boy in question moaned, the sound music to Derek's ear and he grunted in reply, rolling his hips against Stiles to punctuate his appreciation of the boy's need to be vocal. This action resulted in Stiles becoming even more vocal and Derek smirked against his throat.
Stiles pulled him up into a messy kiss, teeth clashing and tongues tangling as they each attempted to get the upper hand. Derek won and mapped out Stiles's mouth, though he already new every inch by heart. His hands slid from Stiles's hips to the boy's ass, gripping hard and tugging him hard against his body. He groaned at the tug of Stiles's hands in his hair, finger gripping.
Derek was close. So close. Stiles seemed to sense this because before he could stop him, the other was pushing him away just enough to allow him to fall to his knees.
"Stiles," Derek warned, his words strained. He really needed to stop this before--his thoughts were brought to an abrupt end as the sound of Stiles pulling down the zipper of his jeans caught his attention. Looking down, he swallowed hard as Stiles undid the button and reached into his boxer briefs, tugging him out and stroking with purpose.
Derek threw his head back and hissed. Eyes closed, he could hear the other chuckle before smacking his lips. He felt Stiles's hot breath on the head before he even closed his lips around it. And then that perfect-but-still-not-enough wet heat that engulfed him as kiss bruised lips closed firmly around him.
He looked down, treated to a sight that had his brain on the fritz. No one should look that good with his mouth around another man's cock. And certainly not a sixteen year old boy. He was once again overcome with a rush of jealousy that he did not like. Even more than that, he didn't like the fact that Stiles had definitely done this before and probably quite often. He brought his hand to Stile's head, pressing into his scalp and gripping to the best of his ability with the lack of hair.
"Shit," he breathed, the strain of everything evident in his voice. He stood there, arm pressed against the tree and his forehead rested against his arm as the hand on Stiles's head urged the other on. When Stiles reached in to pull his balls out, rolling them in his hand, it took a swipe of his tongue over the head, pressing into his slit--and Derek was coming hard into the other's mouth with a strangled groan of his name.
Panting, he pushed away from the tree and looked down at the other. Pulling him up, he pinned him against the tree and kissed him hard, growling softly at the taste of him in Stiles's mouth. Stiles proved to be very efficient at multitasking as he kissed back and put him away at the same time. Derek moved to kiss and suck at Stiles's neck, Derek stepping a little to the side as his hand slid down Stiles's front and over the hard bulge in his pants.
"Fuck," Derek breathed into the other's ear. "So hard. For me. A lot of this was from blowing me, wasn't it," he asked. He didn't know what it was because Derek wasn't much of a talker, but with Stiles, the reactions he got made it easier.
"Yes," the other whined, head pressed back against the tree, hips pressing into Derek's hand. Derek grunted and nipped at a random spot as he undid the button and then zipper, reaching into Stiles's boxers and pulling him out. He stroked him hard as he kissed the other, coaxing his tongue into his mouth. Sucking on it, he swiped his thumb over the head. Stiles pulled out of the kiss and buried his face into Derek's chest.
"Look at me, Stiles," Derek breathed thickly. He watched as Stiles did as he asked, pressing back against the tree, his hands gripping at the trunk as he bucked into his touch.
"Derek," he moaned, hips stuttering as he came, collapsing limply when he finished. Derek kissed his forehead and put him away. Stiles tilted his head for a kiss and Derek gave it to him, the two making out lazily for a bit longer.
It wasn't until they were headed back with the horses that a guilty feeling settled in the pit of the stomach. How was he supposed to stop this whatever it was with Stiles when he continued to give in. He needed to put a stop to this and fast or he was going to reach a point in which there was no turning back.
The rest of the week went by smoothly. If by smoothly, little make outs punctuating their work nearly everyday. Thankfully, none got further than that. Derek wouldn't have let them get any further than that. Not like that day out in the pasture. That could not happen again.
Stiles called him late one night and asked him to come with him to drop off the entry forms at the post office mail box in town. He'd pay for ice cream afterward if he came. Derek wanted to say no but a cup of cookie dough ice cream sounded amazing right then. He said he'd meet him upfront and put on a shirt. He hesitated and grabbed his leather jacket. It wasn't often that he got to wear it around the ranch and so he wore it as much as he could. Heading into town with Stiles was one such opportunity. Besides, he had maybe noticed the younger make really liked said leather jacket.
Not that he was trying to impress the other.
He locked up the little place that the owner had given to him as a place to stay. Most of the other ranch hands had houses nearby or in town. Derek hadn't had such a place or the money to get one. Now that he had the money, he hadn't seen any reason to leave. He headed out toward the main house and to where Stiles was waiting by his car.
"Hey, big guy," the other said, flashing that damned addicting smile.
"Hey," Derek replied. When he reached the other male, Stiles pulled him into a hug. "Stiles."
The warning was merely a formality because in the next minute, they were locking lips and it was a good several minutes before either of them remembered what they were supposed to be doing--which was not playing tonsil hockey in the front of the Stilinski house where anyone could see. Derek was the one to pull away, which was not all that surprising.
"Right. Sorry. Got carried away there," the younger male said, flashing that smile. Derek sighed in resignation. "It's definitely a mix of that jacket and you."
Derek rolled his eyes. "Let's just go. Post office box, remember? And then you owe me ice cream."
Stiles stuck out his tongue but moved to get into his Jeep. Derek stared after and wondered at exactly which point juvenile behavior became attractive. Probably when it was Stiles doing said behavior, the more honest side of him supplied.
Nobody asked you, the rebellious side rebutted.
Derek rolled his eyes at himself. It was a bad day when you were literally arguing with yourself. Derek pushed it all away and got into the Jeep. The trip into town wasn't too bad. Stiles turned up the radio and sung along with every song. He wasn't that bad but he didn't have a future as a professional singer either. It was kind of nice to just listen. They reached the post office and drove by the boxes outside, dropping the forms in.
Then it was off to the local Dairy Queen. They drove through the drive thru and got their ice cream before heading out. When Stiles pulled into the park, only the parking lot lit but still empty but for them, Derek realized where this was headed. He said nothing but continued to eat his ice cream. Stiles was uncharacteristically quiet and ate his ice cream in silence too. By the time both ice creams were eaten and not a word had been spoken for at least twenty minutes, Derek about lost it.
"Whatever it is, Stiles, just spit it out," he barked, his green eyes sharp as they honed in on the younger male.
Stiles looked at him, flinching lightly before sighing. Finally, he looked out the windshield, at the dark park. He mumbled something that Derek couldn't quite catch.
Stiles looked at him, his eyes worried.
"I want to sleep with you."
Derek stared. He did not--oh, yes he did.
Derek's brows furrowed and his mouth became a thin line. His jaw set and he wondered where he had gone wrong. Well, that was easy. Giving in that very first kiss, which he had initiated. And even more, going along with everything that had happened after. He glared at Stiles, his face set.
Stiles looked taken aback. "What do you mean, no?"
Derek sighed, obviously frustrated.
"I mean no, Stiles. I mean that everything that happened. It's all a mistake. The answer should have always been no. Whatever you've done at school with others, whatever we have done, it shouldn't have happened. I don't know if you are a virgin or not, and I--"
"I am," Stiles breathed, as if that was his last life line at a chance with Derek. "I am a virgin."
"I said I don't want to know. It's not going to happen. That's it. End of discussion."
Stiles stared at him for a long time. Then a breath of resignation left him and he swallowed hard.
Derek might have bought that it was okay if not for the tremble of his lips. Derek wanted to give in. To kiss him. To tell him he didn't mean any of it. But he couldn't.
Stiles deserved so much better than that. Than him.
Derek was pulled from his thoughts at the shaky breath that accompanied a choked back sob. His eyebrows rose ridiculously high but he was surprised. Stiles was... crying?
He reached out to touch the other but his hand was batted away.
"Stop... I don't need you. You don't want me so just... just go."
Derek blinked. "Stiles..."
"Just go, Derek."
Derek didn't try again. He got out of the Jeep and watched as Stiles left. He sighed and was thankful that he'd brought his jacket. He didn't know where Stiles was headed and it was a cold night.
The walk home was a long one on foot. With a heavy sigh, he started back toward the ranch.