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The Ultimate Feeling

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Derek is aware that he looks like he has had a lot of partners, but he hasn’t. Like at all.

He can count on one hand all of the people he has slept with and still have fingers to spare.

Aside from Kate, Derek has only been with 2 other people. One was a one night stand that he used to get past Kate. A hot, messy, one time, stranger that he went back to a private place to get himself off, to replace the memories of Kate with. The other was his first time back in Sophomore year: Paige.

He knows how people look at him. How everyone thinks he is some kind of Casanova in the bedroom, but they would be wrong. Every last one of them.

It’s been years since the last time he’s had sex, and all he can think of now is Stiles.

Stiles’ mouth.

Stiles’ hands.

Stiles’ tongue. 

Stiles’ face.

Stiles‘ everything.

He trusts Stiles. He trusts him not to hurt him, not to abandon him, not to leave him alone. Not to abuse him.

He just really wants Stiles.

They have been flirting pretty hard for at least 6 months, at least with Derek making it clear he’s flirting back. Stiles had pretty much been flirting with Derek since the day they met.

Derek doesn’t know how to push it to the next level though. He’s afraid of being turned down, even though Stiles has smelt of nothing but arousal every time they have been in the same room for at least the last 4 years.

Derek’s afraid of not being good enough. He’s afraid he is only a really hot guy to add to your bed post. That Stiles would only sleep with him for the superficial aspect of it all, and not because he genuinely cares about Derek as an individual. Not that Derek is looking for such a commitment, just a little more than a casual fuck.

Derek may not engage in conversation often, but he listens. He’d have to be deaf not to hear all about Stiles’ new experience since he went off to college 3 years ago. Whether it was the pack talking among themselves, or Stiles voicing it for the world to hear because he was Stiles.

Derek went through a few emotions each time he heard about a new conquest. At first he would smile to himself, happy for Stiles, happy that Stiles finally got what he had only dreamt about. Then he would roll his eyes as more and more stories were told, like okay, Stiles. We get it. College is better than High School for you. Then after one too many stories Derek found himself jealous. Jealous of all the Freshman, and Sophomores that got to see Stiles in his most raw form. A form Derek was beginning to want to see for himself.

Now, Derek just wants

Every time Derek gets himself off he only thinks of Stiles. How Stiles lips might part when something takes the words right out of his mouth. How he might clench his eyes shut at the force of his release. How he might be even more vocal than he already is, which Derek isn’t sure if he would find it more annoying or the absolute best thing he has ever heard. He imagines how Stiles might coil underneath him when he works his way in and out of his body. He imagines Stiles long fingers pulling at his own hair when he goes down on him.

Lately though, all he can imagine is Stiles bracing himself above him and slowly pushing himself into Derek.

Once he allows himself to picture that it’s only a matter of seconds before Derek’s body contracts and he shoots everywhere. It’s a trigger for him now. The thought of Stiles taking him apart from the inside out.

With all the new found knowledge of Stiles’ sexual endeavors, Derek has also learned that Stiles not only is gay, but he is versatile. That was the only reason Derek ever let himself picture Stiles thrusting into him, and that was the official turning point for Derek.

Derek never thought he was gay, he had no reason to. The only three people he had ever been with were women, but the more he heard and thought about Stiles at college, the more his mind wandered.

At this point Derek has enough pent up sexual frustration to almost tackle Stiles in the kitchen and beg him for his dick. But Derek is better than that. At least he hopes he is.

Derek stands at the top of the stairs of his loft looking down on Stiles who is rummaging through his kitchen.

Stiles is home on break from school and after a late night with the pack at Derek’s he decided to stay because Melissa was living with his dad now. They had turned Stiles’ old bedroom into a guest room, and Stiles just wasn’t comfortable sleeping in his old room that wasn’t his room.

Of course, Derek didn’t mind Stiles staying with him instead. It was an excuse to be near Stiles. Catalog his features. Memorize reactions. Admire the way his hips sway as he makes his way from one point to another 

Derek makes his way quietly down the stairs listening to Stiles mumble Bad to the Bone under his breath while Stiles puts the finishing touches on his sandwich. Derek takes in Stiles lean figure, now more filled out than when he was in High School, although Derek is used to that by now. He watches Stiles bob his head in earnest as he reaches the chorus of the song with his mouth stuffed with deli meat.

Derek smiles to himself knowing Stiles has no idea he is now standing directly behind him. All Derek would have to do is lean forward 2 inches and his lips could suck a mark over the lone mole on the back of Stiles neck. He resits. Barely.

He does however, speak up. “If I knew you staying here would mean eating all of my groceries, I would have reconsidered.” Derek knew this would startle Stiles, but he had no idea it would have such an effect.

Stiles spins around, sandwich hanging from his mouth, and his eyes wide in panic. His sneakers grip the rug in his spin, twisting it around his ankles, and proceeds to fall backwards.

When Derek reaches to catch him, he realizes his own feet have no grip because he was also standing on the rug that has effectively been pulled out from underneath him. Derek does the only thing he can and grabs Stiles, twisting so his body lands underneath Stiles, effectively absorbing the impact of the fall. The pain would dissipate shortly after impact for Derek, Stiles wouldn’t be so lucky. Derek could already hear the crack Stiles’ skull would have made against the concrete.

They land with an oof from both of them.

Stiles tries to free his feet from the rug apparently holding his feet captive, and looks at Derek when he fails to do so.

Derek knows he should move, should help Stiles up, but it has been a very long time, years even, since he has been this close to Stiles’ face. Derek is careful not to move his hands, as they cannot be trusted right now.

Stiles must notice the conflicting thought dancing across his face, because Derek watches his mouth open and close a few times, his Adam's apple bobbing with strangled words.

Derek can smell the turkey and Swiss wafting over his face, and he wants so badly to just lean up and taste it for himself. Derek catches Stiles swallow thickly and then chance a glance at Derek’s lips. Which is the only invitation Derek needed.

Derek leans up the two inches separating them and presses his lips to Stiles’.

He feels Stiles freeze, body tense against his own. Derek is sure he is just as tense and still, unable to move, frozen as though they were only a photograph frozen in time. This is real life though, and Derek is afraid that the minute he opens his eyes and lays his head back down that everything will be ruined. He let himself get away with the situation. Stiles only needed a place to stay, and Derek has taken advantage.

Finally he does pull away, and Stiles blinks rapidly above him, his lips still pursed, his eyes slightly glazed over. Derek remains frozen as he waits to see how Stiles reacts. 

Stiles clenches his eyes shut, pushing himself onto one arm, then shoving a thumb into one of his eye lids. “Did you- Did I? I’m sor-” Stiles shakes his head, biting his lip as he fights again with the rug at his feet. “I’ll just get my stuff - I’ll go. Sorry. I know you don’t-”

Derek doesn’t let Stiles get another word out before pressing his lips to Stiles again, craning more at the new height Stiles holds himself at. Derek watches Stiles’ eyes fly open, wide, almost crossing in disbelief. After a moment, Derek pulls himself back a fraction still resting on his elbows so he remains in Stiles’ space.

“Did you-?” Stiles sputters, eyebrows nearing his hair line.

Derek let’s the corner of his mouth jump up. “I did.”

A lot happens all at once.

Stiles’ eyebrows do a dance across his forehead, his Adam's apple bounces, his eyes dart all over Derek’s face, his lips form unspoken words. Finally, after looking down to Derek’s lips again Stiles gives into whatever conflicting impulse he has and crushes Derek’s mouth with his own.

Derek lets himself smile into Stiles. This. This is what he has been craving for so long.

Apparently, Stiles has too with the way he was instantly apologetic and ashamed, trying to remove himself from Derek, like he had just kissed him.

Stiles falls forward, pressing himself closer to Derek. He slides his tongue against Derek’s lips asking permission and Derek happily obliges finally tasting Stiles, even if the turkey and Swiss overpowers his senses.

Derek falls back holding the back of Stiles’ head to keep them from breaking contact. Needing every second he can get. If all they did was kiss, Derek would still consider it a win.

Stiles puffs heavy breaths over Derek’s mouth when he breaks for a sip of air, before delving back in. He braces himself on his elbows on either side of Derek’s head. Pulling at the ends of Derek’s hair as Derek runs his hands up Stiles back feeling the lean muscle contract and release.

In this position Derek’s wolf practically purrs at how safe it feels. Stiles’ body blanketing him, caging him, shielding him from the rest of the world. Stiles’ only focus on Derek.

Suddenly, when Derek is just about to run his hands under Stiles’ shirt, Stiles pulls away eyebrows drawn together, not even looking at Derek. Derek worries briefly about what he might have done wrong, when the corners of Stiles mouth turn down and his nose crinkles.

Stiles lifts his hand then, showing a squished piece of cheese stuck to the side of his wrist.

Derek chokes on a laugh, relieved. He didn’t do anything wrong. At least not yet.

Stiles laughs too, his amusement reaching his eyes in small crinkles. “We should uh, get up- we should definitely continue this- but somewhere-” He trails off trying to rid himself of the offending cheese.

“Cleaner?” Derek offers.

Stiles nods grimacing.

They both fight to rid themselves of the offensive rug wrapped around their legs once and for all. Although, Derek doesn’t seem to find it too offensive considering it is technically the reason Derek ever got his lips on Stiles.

Derek should get it dry cleaned or something.

Once they both right themselves they stand awkwardly still for a moment too long. Neither of them knowing what this means for them.

Stiles breaks the silence, “I should uh..” He motions to the remnants of the sandwich on the floor.

Derek clears his throat with a nod. Derek spots some mustard on his shirt and tugs at it indicating that he should go change it.

Stiles nods, but doesn’t say anything, his eyes not leaving Derek.

Derek makes his way to his bedroom to change, trying to figure out how and when it would be acceptable for him to tackle Stiles again. This time on purpose.

The longer it takes for Stiles to come find Derek, the more Derek doubts himself.

Derek falls to the edge of his bed, pulling at the loose threads of his shirt. 

Of course Stiles is hesitant. He goes back to college tomorrow. Stiles knows that anything that happens between them isn’t going to last. Isn’t anything permanent. Stiles will be right back at college tomorrow night, flirting with a new underclassman, possibly bedding them.

Derek will just be here. Holding down the fort while his pack spread out and get an education. Only checking in every few days to tell Derek how things are going, and check on Beacon Hill. Derek doesn’t mind that though. Beacon Hill is his home.

Stiles has everything ahead of him. Derek would only hold him back.

Derek considers going to find Stiles, tell him not to worry, it was nothing, to get some sleep for his long drive tomorrow.

Derek doesn’t hear so much as smell Stiles enter his bedroom. Stiles is more anxious than anything. Arousal mixed in there somewhere. Derek lifts his head to remedy the situation like he planned when he catches Stiles gaze.

Stiles pupils are blown wide, mouth parted, hands in his pockets. Stiles takes a slow step forward. “You still want..”

Derek swallows, nodding, practically tasting Stiles’ arousal on his tongue across the room.

Stiles quickens his steps until he reaches Derek where he drops down straddling Derek’s lap. Stiles wraps his arms around Derek, pressing their bodies flush, already sliding his tongue between Derek’s lips.

Derek sighs in relief, coiling his arms around Stiles, holding him as close as possible. Letting himself forget about what might happen after tonight, and only what is happening right now.

Stiles shifts his hips, like he can’t keep still. His arms run up and down Derek’s arms, chest, back, neck, and hair. Like he’s trying to memorize every dip and bulge of Derek’s torso.

Derek doesn’t dare do the same, afraid he might do something wrong, might bring an end to this. Afraid he won't find himself under Stiles. Finally.

Derek sucks in a sharp breath at the image of Stiles draping himself over him.

Stiles smiles at the sound and pulls Derek’s head to the side so he can get his mouth on Derek’s jaw. “Do you know how long I have wanted this?” Stiles groans, working his way down Derek’s neck. “How long I have wanted to get my mouth all-” He sucks a mark into Derek’s throat. “-over you.” Stiles pulls Derek’s collar back and bites his collar bone.

A growl punches its way out of Derek.

Stiles shivers on top of him, sucking harder on the spot he just sunk his teeth into.

Derek almost wishes he could bruise. So that after Stiles went back to college he would have something besides his imagination to remember him by.

Derek finally slips his hands under Stiles’ shirt asking permission to pull it off. He isn’t met with hesitation, only very enthusiastic arms in the air.

As soon as Stiles is rid of his shirt Derek doesn’t get much of an opportunity to take in the bare skin before him. Derek frowns at that a moment since he has actually never seen Stiles without his shirt.

Stiles impatiently wiggles his fingers under Derek’s own shirt pulling it over his head which is as fast as Derek is able to allow.

Before Derek’s shirt hits the floor, Derek plasters himself to Stiles’ bare skin, settling for that instead of studying every mole he knows must spatter Stiles torso. Derek allows himself to reciprocate more growing confident that Stiles isn’t going anywhere any time soon.

While Stiles works on the other side of Derek’s neck, Derek runs his tongue along all the crevices across Stiles’ neck and collar. Memorizing the feel and tang of salt on Stiles’ skin. Derek could do this all day if he was given the chance.

When Stiles snakes a hand between them slightly tugging at Derek’s button, Derek knows he can’t put it off any longer. “Stiles…”

Stiles pops his head up, eyes lidded, only a small fraction of worry making itself known over the sheer arousal seeping from every pore of his body. “We don’t have to do that. I’m fine with this.” Stiles whispers leaning in and placing a feather light kiss to the corner of Derek’s lips.

“It’s not…” Derek answers wanting to reassure Stiles that he wants everything he has to offer, but is unable to resist his mouth so close to his. Finally, he pulls away resting his forehead against Stiles’ who seems to be just as out of breath as he is. “I’m - I’ve never - with a guy.” Derek averts his eyes, afraid to see what Stiles might think.

Stiles might decide Derek’s too inexperienced. Maybe he was expecting rough, messy, hot sex. All Derek can offer is everything his has, which isn’t much.

When Stiles doesn’t make a move to get off of him, or continue his kisses, Derek finally seeks out his eyes.

Stiles’s eyes are darting between all of his features, lips curling up and down in thought. Stiles’ eyes eventually land on Derek’s and remain there, his features picking one position and stilling. Stiles nods a couple times as he speaks. “That’s okay. Really. Not judging. There’s a first time for everything.” Then he swallows hard. “But can I ask why now? Why me?”

Derek doesn’t hesitate when he sees the squint in Stiles’ eyes, the curve of his lips dropping by the second. “Because I trust you.”

A deep flush works its way up Stiles’ chest. After a few moments of silence while Stiles chews that statement over, he runs his fingers up the back of Derek’s head. He looks like he wants to say something. Throat clicking.

“Is that okay?” Derek asks unsure of what else to say, but needing to know what Stiles is thinking.

“Yeah, but-” He pauses. “What changed? I mean like...I don’t know I just don’t get it. I mean I have wanted you for a long time. Since that day Scott and I came to you when my dad was taken. When Scott told you, you blinked once and then looked at me for confirmation for what Scott had just told you about Jennifer. I didn’t even answer you, but you knew we were telling the truth and you trusted me.”

Derek’s breath catches in his throat.That was before Stiles was even out of High School. Stiles was right though about Derek trusting him then. Derek started trusting Stiles shortly after they met. Sure they argued a lot, but there was still an underlying string of trust. Derek was just working at earning it back.

He threw himself between Stiles and his attackers. Scott when he lost control. Peter at the hospital. Isaac at the police station. The Kanima. That night in the pool was the first time he realized that their trust wasn’t one sided. That Stiles cared about him too.

Stiles literally held Derek up for hours keeping him alive.

“I know it sounds stupid.” Stiles shakes his head, sniffing. “But that was the first time I admitted to myself that I liked you. Which is a big deal. But then as I grew to like you more… you never seemed interested.” Stiles steels his eyes at Derek. “So what changed?”

Derek doesn’t know how to answer. He knows he must have liked Stiles on a deep level long before Stiles went to college, but he can’t pinpoint it like Stiles just did. All he could say is that he heard about Stiles sleeping around at college and got jealous. Which is the exact wrong thing to say right now, and not close enough to the truth.

As soon as Stiles starts to pull away, Derek forces as much truth out of his mouth as he can muster. “I trust you.”

Stiles rolls his eyes having already heard that.

“I mean. I don’t know when it happened. When I started seeing you as more than- it’s not like I didn’t notice you or something back then, but you were in High School, and I was unstable. And neither of us were into guys then. Then you left for college. And I know we can’t have anything serious with you away. Not that I’m asking that of you.” Derek groans embarrassed, and knowing this is moments from ending. “I just need this.” Derek grips Stiles hips tighter. “I need you.” Derek swallows, “Even if it’s only for one night.”

Stiles scratches Derek’s scalp lightly, “Okay. Alright. When is the last time you slept with anyone?”

Derek furrows his brows at him. Why does that matter?

“Relax, I just need to know. So I know how gentle to be with you.” Stiles lips curl up at that.

Derek sighs with relief. It wasn’t over yet.

“Also, if you don’t mind, tell me what you like. And what you don’t. I don’t want to do something that you’re uncomfortable with.”

Derek swallows at that. He knew he trusted Stiles, and now Stiles was further proving why. Stiles wouldn’t hurt him. Wouldn’t break him. Wouldn’t take advantage. “I don’t know… much. It’s been awhile. I don’t know what you might want to do that I won’t like.”

“First thing first. Define awhile.”

“Since about a year after Kate.” Derek can see the wheels turning in Stiles eyes, so he elaborates hoping it will speed things up. “I’ve only been with 3 people.”

Stiles chokes.

“Paige in High School. Kate. And then someone in a bar I don’t even remember the name of.” The fear that Stiles might think he’s too inexperienced makes itself known again.

“Derek, that’s at least... what 7 years?” Stiles gasps.

Derek rolls his eyes.

“I mean that’s cool. But like how did you go that long?” Stiles asks breathless, like he can’t imagine going without sex that long.

Derek braces himself for what he is about to say. He buys himself a second by latching onto Stiles lower lip.

Stiles doesn’t complain, molding his body to Derek, angling his head for a better angle.

Derek whispers against his lips, “Thinking of you. Us like this.”

Stiles chokes on a moan as he shifts his hips forward again.

At the length of heat on Derek’s leg he continues. “Every time I touch myself. I imagine you.”

“Oh my god, Derek.” Stiles moans as his hips stutter. “You can’t just say stuff like that.”

Derek smiles, pleased with the reaction. Before he can continue Stiles jumps off his lap after leaving one last kiss on his jaw. “What are-”

Stiles raises a finger. “Gotta pee. Don’t move.” Stiles points at the bed for emphasis.

Derek coughs a laugh. Finally able to get a look at Stiles skin. The moles splattered across the planes of his back. The pale, pink skin begging to be marked. The rise and fall of his ass. It takes everything in Derek not to get up and follow Stiles. Things are going too well though and he can’t jeopardize that.

Only a minute later Stiles comes back into the room. Only, he doesn’t hesitate like before and his pants are gone. Leaving him only in black boxer briefs with his length begging to be let free.

Derek’s mouth waters.

“Lay down.” Stiles orders.

Derek squints in question, slowly crawling backwards up the bed as instructed. “What are you-?”

Stiles crawls up between Derek’s legs. “Don’t worry. You can tell me to stop any time you want. But I am going to sex you so good tonight if you let me. So good.” Stiles settles above Derek before delving his tongue back into his mouth.

Derek can’t help but moan wantonly. Checking yes to all of the above.

“Don’t worry though. I’ll keep it vanilla.” Stiles eyes twinkle with mischief, as he brings himself up to straddle Derek’s hips.

Derek bucks at the feeling of Stiles heat against his own. Better than Derek ever imagined. And he imagined a lot.

Stiles finds a rhythm they both like and works his mouth across all the skin of Derek’s neck that he can reach.

At this point Derek cannot tell how much of the moisture on his chest and neck is Stiles’ mouth and how much is sweat. He also lost track of his blush that worked its way down his chest, only feeling his entire body hot to the touch now. If only he could see himself. He knows he must look like a pink, desperate, writhing mess. And Stiles hasn’t even touched his dick yet.

Stiles moans approval against Derek’s skin and lips every time Derek let’s out a noise. Stiles apparently likes that. A lot.

“Stiles…” Derek gasps trying to still Stiles’ hips.

“Yea, baby?” Stiles asks, sucking an earlobe into his mouth, not ceasing the movement of his hips.

Derek growls at that, at the sentiment, and the action.

Stiles chuckles, “You like that?”

“Mmm.” Derek answers, “I’m gunna - you need to stop.” Derek can hear how wrecked he is.

Stiles drops on his elbows, cradling Derek’s face. “I know. Go ahead. Let it go.” Stiles latches onto Derek’s bottom lip.

Derek takes one look at Stiles determination, his focus. The steady rhythm that he hasn’t faltered on once. Derek groans again, weakened by all that Stiles is.

When Stiles opens his eyes, pulling back and smiling at Derek like he is exactly where he wants him, Derek loses it.

Stiles shifts his hips further down so as not to overstimulate Derek, still keeping his pace. Stiles doesn’t let his eyes stray though. He watches Derek all the way through his release and back to reality. Stiles reaches a hand up to lay across Derek’s tense throat. Where he swallows over and over, unable to catch his breath. “God, Derek. You are so fucking beautiful.”

Derek can’t help but smile at that, so blissed out of his mind. Not with just his release, but because it’s Stiles. Because Stiles thinks he’s beautiful. Because Stiles has his hand around his throat, as though claiming him. And Derek’s wolf is rolling in the dirt begging for his belly to be rubbed.

Derek is happy.

Derek is also sad.

Stiles seems to notice this, stopping his movements and smoothing out Derek’s brow. “What’s the matter? Did I do something wrong?”

“No.” Derek says a little too quickly, startling Stiles. “I just - I wanted to last longer. To do more.”

“Oh we will.” Stiles winks, resuming his thrusts against his thigh.

Derek opens his eyes quickly, finding Stiles grinding down harder.

“Trust me when I say I’m going to sex you good tonight, Derek Hale. I was just getting the edge off.” Stiles grins wickedly, sucking a nipple into his mouth.

Derek growls, he can feel his eyes flash. His imagination was never this good.

“I need you to be nice and fresh when I get your dick in me. I am going to ride you into oblivion. The only name you’ll know will be mine.” Stiles bites at Derek’s hip for emphasis.

Derek feels his claws start to sting at his fingers. He’s careful not to let them free as he runs his fingers through Stiles’ hair. “I’m totally on board with that plan. Well that last part.”

Stiles looks at him in question, his hips stilling.

”I was actually hoping to get your dick in me.” Derek doesn’t even have a moment to worry about rejection.

“Fuck!” Stiles shouts, choking on air as his hips stutter, his back arches, mouth open, then sags against Derek’s stomach. “What the hell-” he gasps, “is wrong with you?!”

The corners of Derek’s mouth turn down. Nothing. Nothing is wrong with him. Everything is great. Can’t complain.

“You can’t just-” Stiles crawls up Derek’s front, a bead of sweat dripping from his hairline. “You can’t just say something like that. Oh my god. What is wrong with you?”

Derek lifts his head to lick the sweat from Stiles forehead. “I was just being honest.”

Stiles rolls to the side, squinting at Derek. “You really want that.” He bites his lips as Derek nods. “You want. My dick. In your ass.”

Derek resists smiling, trying to curl his lip back down, but knowing it’s not doing any good. At Stiles dropped jaw, Derek whispers in a much stronger voice than he thought he was capable of with how blissed out he feels right now. “Still going to sex me good?” He raises an eyebrow.

Stiles nods vigorously. “Oh, you bet your sweet ass I am.”

They both laugh, exchanging lazy kisses until finally Stiles rolls out of bed.

“Don’t tell me you have to pee again.” Derek rolls his eyes, lifting himself onto his elbows.

Stiles whirls around pointing to the wet spot on the front of his underwear. “I’m just cleaning up. I’ll be right back. Gosh.” There isn’t any heat behind the words, no real annoyance. A smile playing across Stiles’ face as he backs out of the room, eyes lingering.

This time Stiles comes back without his boxers on. Leaving him naked.

Derek’s mouth waters.

There’s a smile dancing across Stiles’ face as he tosses a wet towel from one hand to another, slowly making his way to Derek. Stiles bends down to slide Derek’s pants off. Once free of them, Stiles rests his face against Derek’s soft cock through his underwear.

Don’t get it twisted though. It is valiantly trying to fill again.

Stiles takes a deep breath, then exhales over Derek’s dick which twitches in appreciation.

Stiles smiles, slowly curling his fingers under the waistband and pulling them down. Stiles’ knuckle ghosts along Derek’s dick and in response it lifts up a millimeter before falling back down as if it were attempting to follow Stiles’ fingers. Begging. Stiles ignores it in favor of cleaning up the mess on Derek’s lower stomach where his dick had been pressed under the constraint of his jeans.

Stiles places lazy kisses along Derek’s groin, thighs, legs, and stomach. Not touching Derek’s dick once. “Are you sure about this?” Stiles asks again, looking up at Derek through long lashes.

“Yes.” Derek answers strongly, wanting Stiles to understand just how much he wants this.

Nodding in acceptance, Stiles asks, “Where’s your lube? Condom?”

Derek freezes, arm halfway to the nightstand. He doesn’t have a condom. Werewolves don’t catch STD’s. He tells Stiles as much, then “If you don’t have one, it’s okay. We don’t have to do that. I mean sex. I mean we can do other-”

Stiles cuts him off with a laugh. “It’s fine. I trust you.”

Derek sighs in relief.

“Now what about that lube? Trust me buddy, you don’t want to do this without it.” Stiles exhales heavily above Derek’s balls.

Derek basically forgets how drawers work, his brain short circuiting at the idea of Stiles getting his mouth on his dick. Somehow, he figures it out, practically throwing the bottle at Stiles.

Stiles laughs. “Relax, I’m going to take care of you.”

Derek blinks at Stiles, he knows he should feel awkward. Lying naked and pliant under Stiles. Desperate and wanton. His wolf should be fighting to the surface with the need to establish dominance. But his wolf remains sated. Happy. Showing his belly.

Derek hears the pop of the bottle, he’s careful not to panic, but he thought there would be a little more build.

Stiles shushes him, most likely picking up on the nerves. He tongues one of Derek’s ball’s in apology. “Relax.”

Derek takes a deep breath, locking eyes with Stiles.

Spreading Derek’s legs more and settling more firmly between them, Stiles slides one finger up the crack of Derek’s ass barely touching his hole.

Derek’s body coils and releases. His breath coming hard. Dick quickly filling.

Humming his approval, Stiles sucks one ball into his mouth then lets go with a loud pop. “Have you ever touched yourself here?” Stiles lightly grazes his hole for emphasis with a slick finger.

Derek nods quickly, “Yes.”

Stiles raises an eyebrow, “Really? When?”

“Shortly after-” Derek gasps when Stiles finger slides gently over him again. Not trying to force entry. Not even hinting. Just petting him in his most private spot. “Shortly after I started thinking about you, and your dick. Fucking me.” Derek throws his head back at both the image and another swipe across his hole.

“Fuck, Derek.” Stiles says shaking. Stiles doesn’t waste another second before he has Derek’s dick in his mouth.

Derek arches, breathing Stiles’ name over and over again, causing Stiles to moan around him, his finger still sliding against his entrance. Derek’s dick is swollen in a matter of seconds. The wet heat and suction of Stiles mouth drawing all the energy from Derek’s body. Derek’s fingers find Stiles hair, encouraging him.

Stiles moans taking Derek deeper, faster. Choking on him.

Derek chances a glance down at Stiles bobbing head to find him staring up under his lashes watching Derek squirm. “Fuck, Stiles.” He can see the smug smirk tugging at the corner of Stiles mouth as he takes him deeper and holds. His throat contracting around Derek’s dick. Derek’s eyes roll into the back of his head.

Stiles continues bobbing, rolling his balls between the fingers of one hand, while the other adds pressure between his cheeks.

Derek’s body can’t decide if he wants to press further into Stiles mouth or down against his roaming finger.

Picking up on Derek’s desperation, Stiles presses the tip of his finger harder against Derek rubbing circles, asking permission, for entrance. It’s only a minute longer before he is able to push the tip of his finger in.

Derek’s head reels. He wants more. There’s no stopping now, and if he had to, he might just die on the spot.

Stiles keeps sucking, working his balls, and wiggling his finger in further, stopping whenever there is resistance.

Derek personally wants to yell at his ass for being so stubborn. Why was his body betraying him? Derek shoves back against Stiles finger.

With a pop, Stiles comes off his dick smoothing a hand over his abdomen. “Relax, just give it a little time. We’ll get there.”

As sweet as that sounds, Derek needs more, now. “Can’t - I need - Stiles. More.”

“Okay. Okay.” Stiles whispers. “Roll over. Spread your legs.”

Derek does so as fast as he can. He doesn’t know how it will help, but Stiles said ‘okay’ and that’s all that matters.

Stiles pulls Derek’s dick between his legs letting it lay flat against the mattress. He runs his tongue along the underside of his length, over his balls, then as he spreads Derek’s cheeks he licks over Derek’s entrance.

Every muscle in Derek’s body contracts, a strangled name on his lips.

Stiles rubs his hands up and down Derek’s back before repeating the swipe of his tongue from earlier, only this time he doesn’t leave Derek’s entrance. His tongue rubs circles, his hole twitching with need. Stiles shoves his tongue in wiggling as far as he can, sucking on his rim.

Derek can’t breathe.

Stiles moans against him, working his finger alongside his tongue.

Derek feels himself open more to the heat.

Stiles removes his tongue, and Derek feels another finger rub alongside the finger already twisting inside him. “You’re doing so good, baby.”

Derek preens at the praise, trying to find air. He hears the bottle cap again.

“So good for me.” Stiles slides the second finger in.

Derek huffs against his pillow, biting back a moan.

Stiles kisses one of his cheeks, “Just tell me if it’s too much.”

“Not enough.” Derek breathes.

“Okay. I got you.” Stiles says soothingly before taking Derek’s dick into his mouth, sucking hard, while pumping his two fingers in and out of Derek. Curling them, Stretching him from the inside out.

Derek squirms, gasping with every thrust of Stiles’ wrist. “Fuck. Stiles. Stiles. Stiles. God.” His body electrifies when Stiles finds his prostate. “Right there!” Derek yells, burying his face in his pillow embarrassed.

“Let it out, baby.” Stiles whispers over Derek’s ass. “Let me hear you.”

Derek unclenches his jaw from his pillow, choking out a string of vowels. Unable to contain them any more. Not with Stiles calling him baby. Not with Stiles taking care of him. Not with Stiles giving him exactly what he has been craving for so long. But still not enough. He needs more.

As if on queue, Stiles pushes a third finger in slowly. “So close, baby. So close.”

Derek relaxes at that. Soon he will have what he wants. Just has to let Stiles work him as loose as he can.

“Am I living up to your expectations?” Stiles asks, pumping his fingers in and out. “All you imagined?”

Derek wines unable to form words. The answer is no. Stiles is better. Derek will never be able to go back to his hand. Not after this.

“Don’t get quiet on me now.” Stiles must see the crease between his eyebrows as Derek can’t seem to bring words to his lips.

The only words in his mind being Stiles. God. More. Please. Fuck me.

Stiles slows his pace. “You don’t have to tell me. But let me tell you one of my go-to fantasy's.”

Derek’s eyes pop open. He never let himself think that Stiles would think about him too.

Locking eyes with Derek, wrist moving at a steady pace, Stiles begins his story. “We’re in the preserve. We’ve just defeated some big bad.” Stiles speaks slow, keeping pace with his fingers. “The rest of the pack has gone ahead home and I stay back with you. Like always.” Stiles winks at him, licking up the precum that leaks out of Derek at the thought. “I look at you, staring up at the moon. Dirt streaking your cheek, sweat on your brow. Disheveled because you just protected your pack. Saved everyone.” Stiles locks his eyes again. “Saved me.”

Derek’s wolf rumbles at that, at Stiles recognizing how Derek would do anything for him, and can.

“I tell you how much you mean to the pack. How much you mean to me. How I could never repay you for saving me, my friends, and my family.” Stiles kisses his hip, fingers still working and scissoring.

Derek’s wolf preens at the recognition. The thanks.

“Then you crowd me against a tree.” Stiles thrust hard with his hand. “You claim my lips.” Thrusts again. “I mold myself to you, finally getting what I want.” Stiles licks his shaft.

Derek closes his eyes, picturing the scene, wishing he had thought of it himself.

“You wrap my legs around you, holding me up, rutting against me, the tree scraping at my back.” Stiles’ breath comes in ragged breaths over his balls, as he continues his hard rhythm. “Finally you take me.” Stiles thrusts harder and faster as Derek pushes back against him, “You take me right there, in the dirt. You pound into me. Hard. Like your only purpose is to nail me, and mine to let you in.”

Derek cries out at that, reaching back with his hand to grab Stiles’ wrist as he comes. “Fu-uck” He chokes, eyes screwing shut, but trying to stay open and find Stiles.

Stiles licks up every drop of Derek, sliding his fingers out.

Derek can feel tears slipping out of his eyes. He’s too wrecked to think to be embarrassed. He just wants Stiles’ mouth on his. Now.

Stiles crawls up the bed like he’s being pulled and does exactly that. He kisses Derek senseless. Letting both of their heart rates level out. Stiles pulls Derek onto his chest, petting his hair, whispering into his ear. “You did so good, baby. So good.”

Derek whimpers against his chest, relaxing muscle by muscle.

“You’re perfect. So beautiful.” Stiles keeps scratching at Derek’s scalp.

Derek looks longingly at Stiles dick which is still hard, but Derek can’t get his arm to move to try and take care of it. His arm flops uselessly against Stiles stomach.

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll get off when I fuck you. As soon as you’re ready. If you still want to, that is.” Stiles amends.

Derek nods, weakly. “I want you to.”

“Me too.” Stiles smiles, kissing his forehead. “Rest first.”

When Derek opens his eyes, he realizes he fell asleep. He looks down and Stiles dick has gone limp, which is a shame, and Derek won’t stand for it. Looking up Derek realizes Stiles is sleeping, Derek slips free, sliding down, kissing Stiles chest.

Stiles just had most of his hand in his ass, he’s sure a little kissing is okay.

A small smile spreads across Stiles’ face as he wakes up.

Derek takes that as permission to move further south. He tentatively licks at Stiles length. Feels it twitch against his tongue. He doesn’t waste much more time before getting his mouth around it.

After a few sucks, just enough to get used to the weight of Stiles on his tongue, he feels Stiles fingers weave into his hair. Stiles moaning above him. When Derek looks up Stiles is looking down at him through heavy lids, mouth parted, and cheeks flushed. Derek watches the flush work its way down his chest. He sucks in earnest wanting to see how far the blush can go.

As soon as Stiles is rock hard, and Derek’s jaw begins to ache, Stiles pulls at his hair.

Derek lets himself be pulled off looking at Stiles in question.

“Tonight is about me sexing you up, Derek Hale. Not that I don’t appreciate that though.” Stiles smiles.

Derek blushes.

“I take it you're ready for round three?” Stiles smirks, rubbing circles into Derek’s jaw, pulling at his swollen lips with his thumb.

Derek nods, sucking a thumb into his mouth.

“Roll over. On your stomach.”

Derek does as he’s told, practically vibrating with want. He hears the bottle pop again, and Stiles presses at his hole with his fingers again, making sure he’s still open and ready.

“Look at you. Still stretched open. Waiting for me.”

Derek’s blush deepens.

Stiles blankets himself across Derek, sucking an ear into his mouth. “So good for me.”

Derek bites back a moan but releases it quickly, knowing Stiles likes to hear him.

Stiles reaches a hand under Derek wrapping his fingers around his almost hard length. “Almost ready.”

“M’ready.” Derek begs, “Please.”

Stiles nods against the side of his face, pulling Derek’s lips to his, sealing them together. “Okay.”

Stiles lines himself up, spreading Derek’s legs further, and chokes when the head makes it’s way past the tight ring of muscle. “Fuck, Derek. You’re so tight. Oh my god.”

Derek sticks his ass out, trying to draw Stiles further in. Needing more. Moaning his name.

Stiles slides further in. Bottoming out. Both of them shouting in ecstasy. Stiles doesn’t move his hips, both of them trying to calm their breathing. Stiles lays flat against him.

Derek grips the mattress in front of his face trying not to move. Letting himself relax around Stiles.

Stiles slides his left arm alongside Derek and under his shoulder to grab his hand at his face. Weaving them together. His other arm coming to lay across his shoulder to grip his head and hold him.

Derek feels the warmth, and protection he felt earlier when Stiles bracketed him in on the floor in the kitchen. Safe. Protected. Dare say loved.

“So good, Derek. Fuck. So perfect. The sounds you make. Oh my God.” Stiles moans only millimeters from his ear.

“Move.” Derek begs. “Please.” Derek tries to shift back. “Stiles, now.”

Stiles doesn’t bother saying okay this time. He just shifts back then slowly back in. They both choke on a whimper. Then Stiles finds a rhythm to both of their liking.

Stiles never lets go of him, holding him tight, breathing hot over his ear. Telling him how good he is. How much he has always wanted this. How beautiful he is. How perfect he is.

Derek knows that if he had neighbors there would be at least a dozen noise complaints by now. Neither of them monitoring their sound levels.

Stiles so far has maintained a slowish pace, probably trying not to hurt Derek, or to make it last as long as possible, but Derek needs more.

“Harder.” Derek lifts his hips for emphasis.

Stiles nods against the back of Derek's head, sucking a mark into his nape, then sits up straighter, pulling Derek’s hips with him.

On his knees Derek finds he can shove himself back against Stiles.

Stiles let’s out a loud curse the first time he does it, but then does his best to match Derek. Eventually, they find it and slam into each other for lord knows how long. It felt like hours while simultaneously feeling like only seconds.

“Fuck, Derek. I can’t-”

“Me too. Stiles.”

They both call each others names, hearts hammering out of their chests.

Then Derek slams back and brings himself upright to grab Stiles by the neck and kiss him.

Stiles wraps his arms around Derek’s chest, while trying to maintain their pace. He slides forcefully against Derek’s prostate, and all Derek can see is white.

Derek holds onto Stiles neck, no longer kissing, just gasping over Stiles lips.

“Fuck, Derek.” Stiles groans, his body going tight.

Derek can feel Stiles emptying inside of him. Can feel his back sticking to Stiles’ front. Both of them sticky with sweat.

After Stiles slips from Derek he rotates them to the other side of the bed so Derek doesn’t have to lay in his own mess. Stiles holds him to his chest, kissing along his neck feather light touches.

Derek tries not to worry about how Stiles will be leaving in the morning. Back to college. To do God knows what, or who. He tries to just stay in the moment. Sated. Happy. Safe. He’ll even let himself feel loved.

“Is this something I can look forward to every time I visit?” Stiles finally asks, breathing at a normal pace.

Derek freezes, not sure if heard him right.

“It’s okay if it’s not. I just don’t think I can be with anyone else after that.” Stiles says tracing circles in Derek’s hip.

“I can’t ask you to do that, Stiles. You’ll be gone for months at a time.” Derek finally says.

Stiles kisses the back of Derek’s neck. “You’re not asking me to do anything. As long as I have that to come home to, I can make it. But if you don’t want anything serious, that’s fine too.” Stiles swallows. “I just need to sex you up every time I’m home.”

Derek swallows just as thickly. Not believing his ears. Not wanting Stiles to run away. Not wanting to put all his eggs in one basket. But Stiles coming home to him, sounds exactly like what Derek wants and needs. All he manages to say is, “Okay.”

“Okay.” Stiles smiles against his neck. They curl up under the blankets and fall asleep shortly after that, but not before Derek makes a mental note to himself.

Derek was definitely going to get his kitchen rug dry cleaned. It’s earned it.