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not nearly enough

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"I don't want you to leave, ever," Stiles whispered reverently, feeling Derek shudder. Smiling a little, he drew his hand along Derek's shoulders and down his back, scratching from time to time, basking in the small moans that escaped Derek's mouth.

"Makes two of us," Derek breathed into Stiles' neck. His words were kind of muffled and it took a bit of Stiles' concentration to comprehend them. Don't blame him, the centre of his attention was placed elsewhere.

Stiles’ fingers danced to Derek’s ass and squeezed harshly as he drew Derek in, plastering their bodies together, drawing another miserable sound out of Derek.

"God, what you do to me," Derek whispered, "you have no idea. The way you smell, like morning sheets and arousal, it drives me mad. Even more when you come over and rub yourself along every accessible surface, so your scent gets spiked with me. What do you think that makes me feel, huh?"

"I might have an idea," Stiles said huskily and pitching his hips out, into Derek groin. He could feel the hardness of him as clearly as he could hear Derek’s heavy breathing.

"The things I want to do to you," Derek growled into Stiles’ skin, biting at the pale expanse and marking it clearly as his. Stiles’ breath hitched.

"Tell me," he said softly, "tell me every single thing you want to do to me."

Derek’s palms snaked around Stiles’ hips and then suddenly Stiles’ back was flat against the wall and his legs were wrapped around Derek’s waist - not that he remembered putting them there.

"I want to run my hands up and down your body. Feel your skin heat up under my touch and redden when I press hard enough." Derek’s fingers squeezed Stiles' sides possessively and then travelled up into his hair, carding through them. "I want to get my fingers into your hair and tug until your throat is all bare and exposed for me to bite." He leaned down as he made a point of his words and run his nose from the hollow of his throat to under Stiles' chin, whispering. "I want to get you louder than you've ever been."

Stiles’ hips bucked up as he bit his lip to suppress the moan coming from him. Derek growled frustratedly and kissed him harshly, freeing the lip and letting all sounds come forth. Stiles would be ashamed of himself later, recalling everything he did, but right now, he couldn't care less.

"Get it off. Get it all of," Stiles rasped, fingers tugging fruitlessly on the hem of Derek’s shirt. A small laugh escaped Derek.

"Oh no, Stiles. For once, we're doing this my way."

Just like that, Stiles was let down and turned around, facing the wall. Derek’s hands took care of his shirt, tugging it down, leaving a map of white seas and little black islands exposed for Derek to lose himself in. He traced his fingers along Stiles’ sides as his tongue painted fantastical shapes along his skin, biting softly every now and then, drawing moans out of Stiles. Derek’s fingers found the button of Stiles’ jeans and popped it open, following with the zipper and boxers, and the next thing Stiles knew, he was standing with his back to Derek, completely naked.

Behind him, Derek let out a sigh.

"You're so beautiful. I wish you could see."

Stiles shuddered when he felt the air shift as Derek fell down on his knees, his beard rubbing angry red patches into the skin of the small of his back, his hands holding tightly on his thighs.

"I wish you could see," Derek repeated and bit viciously into Stiles’ skin, making him yelp loudly and then moan when Derek soothed it with his tongue. Stiles could hear him smirking.

"I've seen myself naked you know," Stiles said unsteadily, feeling Derek’s tongue getting lower. "Quite a few times, actually."

"Not like that. You can never get the whole picture of yourself," Derek whispered into his skin, "open, wanting and sparkling and smelling like - fuck - like Moulin Rouge."

Stiles laughed shakily. "You can't smell like Moulin Rouge."

"You can," Derek said. "You do."

Stiles yelled out loud when Derek’s hot tongue run along his hole, pointed up and pressed in, leaving Stiles out of breath. Man, did it feel amazing. And dirty and a little gross, actually, but if Derek wasn't complaining, he sure as hell wasn't going to. Derek, to be honest, seemed pretty content. He was rubbing small circles along Stiles’ skin, letting out soft noises that made the hair on the nape of Stiles’ neck stand up.

Goosebumps broke all over Stiles’ skin when a slightly wet finger pressed along the tongue, dipping just so very little in. Stiles’ dick strained for touch but when he reached down to touch himself, Derek’s other hand fell sharply on his thigh in a stinging slap. Stiles yelped and braced himself on the wall as the slap threw him off balance.

"Don't," Derek growled behind him, slipping his tongue deeper into Stiles, making him mewl and drive his fingernails into the wall. Derek’s finger dipped in an inch more and Stiles sobbed when Derek hit his prostate. It was too much.

Too much, too much, too much, too wet, too arousing, too much.

"Derek, please," Stiles’ voice broke into a whine when Derek withdrew. He felt like he could snap at any time, what with the tension coiling inside him.

Derek wheeled him around, pressing Stiles’ back into the wall and his finger back in.

Stiles let out a high whine (which he would later deny with all he had), shamelessly thrusting into the touch. He opened his eyes for a moment, getting a glimpse of Derek on his knees, for him, and god, he was gorgeous. Dark silky hair and burning eyes and stubble and flushed cheeks; he looked wrecked. Stiles couldn't imagine what he looked like.

Derek’s fingertip caught on his prostate again and Stiles bucked his hips, smearing precome on Derek’s cheeks. Reaching his hand down to cup said cheek, Derek’s hand came up and grasped his fingers, bringing them to his mouth, sucking. Everything in Stiles clenched tight at the sight. He groaned.

"Derek, please. Please," he begged, bringing his other hand to Derek’s hair, tugging harshly at the strands. Derek closed his eyes for a moment before he released Stiles’ fingers and latched his lips onto Stiles’ dick instead.

Stiles’ slumped into the wall, caught between bucking into Derek’s soft mouth and dropping lower onto Derek’s finger. Pleasure made the decision for him.

Derek gave a particularly rough thrust as his blunt human teeth grazed Stiles’ dick. That was about as much as Stiles could handle. He came with a shout, gripping tightly on Derek’s hair, holding him still. Derek sucked until Stiles pushed him off, shaking from oversensitivity and afterglow.

Derek stood up. He wasn't even undressed.

Stiles yanked him closer, planting his lips on Derek’s. "We're doing that again. I want to get under your clothes too."

"Oh, sure we will." Derek pulled away to look into Stiles’ eyes. "That wasn't nearly loud enough."