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Tales From Under Derek Hale

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Derek forgetting his suitcase before work that one day had started something bigger than Stiles had ever imagined. Never in a million years would he have ever imagined losing his virginity to somebody as hot as Derek Hale. Never in a billion years would he have ever imagined that he’d actually end up losing his virginity to his damn stepfather. It was a ridiculous plotline in so many pornos, but for Stiles Stilinski, it was a real thing that happened.

It was sometimes difficult to play up being an innocent son to his father, especially when Stiles knew the truth. He had played a strong hand in dragging his father’s lover to the side of adultery and it didn’t necessarily feel good. It was a fucked up situation that Stiles knew that he’d have to eventually pay for in his lifetime. But then again, concern for his dwindling morals seemed to blur whenever he realized that he had access to mind-blowing sex whenever he could score alone time with Derek.

Sure, the guilt remained stapled into Stiles’ mind, but he kept it stapled in the back and away from everything else. Call him heartless, but Stiles just wanted to let his dick do most of his thinking. It felt better that way. Plus, he was young. He was supposed to make stupid mistakes and pay for them later anyways. Fucking around with Derek felt fantastic in the moment and that’s what Stiles cared about.

+

The suitcase debacle had basically revealed Derek’s true nature—an insatiable sex beast, who was almost always in the mood for sex. For somebody who had seemed so straight-laced and proper, it was an intriguing surprise to Stiles. He loved seeing Derek’s composure fall apart each and every time they fell together into another pornographic episode. The sex was fucking phenomenal and it felt so good to have a guy in his late-thirties so entranced and hungry for him.

There was one day after Stiles had just gotten home after a grueling day of tedious lacrosse practice with Coach Finstock. He had his mind and heart set on toppling over into the softness of his bed and taking a nap until dinner, but the likelihood of that happening had dwindled down to “not very likely” when Stiles’ foot stepped through the threshold of his front door. Instead of a peaceful embrace, he was grabbed by the front of his lacrosse jersey and thrown up against the foyer’s wall.

Derek had gotten home early and wanted to relieve some of his stress from a day down at the office. He pinned Stiles against the wall and kicked the front door shut with the heel of his leather boot. As Stiles yelped out in surprised, Derek caught his mouth with his own and ravished the boy’s warm mouth with his tongue. The yelps of confusion quickly evolved into groans of contentment.

“Let’s get these off of you.” Derek whispered into Stiles’ neck, tugging his hand at the band of Stiles’ lacrosse shorts.

“I’m honestly really tired…” Stiles said. “I was thinking about just heading upstairs and taking a nap or someth—”

“Oh, you’re tired?” Derek ran his fingers along Stiles’ jaw-line and dipped them gently into the teenager’s mouth—silencing him. “Well, doesn’t that mean we should just take advantage of the situation? What’s the harm in getting you a little more worn out if you’re just going to sleep it off later anyways?”

Stiles took a moment to decide whether or not he was interested in Derek’s suggestion. He stood there against the wall with Derek’s fingers inside of his mouth. Meanwhile, Derek stared at Stiles with a dirty smirk on his lips—eagerly awaiting a positive response from Stiles. It was easy to see that even though Stiles was tired, he was still horny.

Just as soon as Stiles nodded in agreement to trade in his plans for slumber in exchange for some good sex, Derek practically man-handled him over to the carpeted staircase. He tossed Stiles down onto the steps—letting him fall to his hands and knees—and slipped his fingers along the back of the boy’s maroon lacrosse short’s waistband. He paused and took a moment to take in how good the shorts looked on Stiles’ tight little ass.

There was the fact that the mesh material of the lacrosse shorts allowed for just a little peak of Stiles’ skin. It felt…tastefully naughty to watch Stiles trot around after lacrosse practice when it was so easy to see through the shorts. Although, Derek had to seriously watch his stares when John was around him. But the mesh material of the shorts paled in comparison to the way the shorts hugged the globes of Stiles’ ass so deliciously. That was the best part.

Derek pulled down the lacrosse shorts to reveal Stiles’ black jockstraps and the smooth skin of Stiles’ beautiful ass. He exhaled in satisfaction. The shorts slid down so nicely with the help of Stiles’ somewhat sweaty skin. All of that tough lacrosse practice really had amounted to something good.

“Beautiful.” Derek breathed.

Stiles let his head drop down into the bend of his forearm as he stayed propped up on the staircase. His knees and elbows started to ache because they served as his only support as he kept the position that Derek had placed him into. Stiles was just about to say something about the uncomfortableness, but then Derek was tonguing enthusiastically at his hole.

Fuck.” Stiles groaned, rolling his neck.

Derek dug his fingers into the meat of Stiles’ perfect ass as he continued to eat Stiles out. He worked his tongue harder and faster, desperate to rim delicious moans out of the boy presented before him. It certainly worked and it wasn’t just because Stiles was an obscene moaner whose body quaked when Derek’s tongue struck a little too deep.

“I can’t fucking get enough of you.” Derek grunted. He pulled his tongue out of Stiles’ hole with a lewd, sloppy kiss.

Stiles always got chills when he heard the loud clank of Derek’s belt buckle—especially when it was followed by the sound of a zipper getting pulled down. His body, his mind, and his ass all hungrily anticipated what would come next. Everything with Derek always seemed to follow the same beautiful equation and it was probably the one equation that Stiles knew how to work over correctly.

Derek spit onto Stiles’ hole from where he stood behind his bent over toy—cock hanging out of his black trousers. He stroked himself as he watched his spit drip down Stiles’ crack and coat the tight entrance. Just to make sure that Stiles’ hole wasn’t going to resist too much, Derek pressed two of his fingers into the tight heat and fingered the whimpering boy for a couple minutes.

Stiles cried out as the thick head of Derek’s thick cock pushed into his hole. It tugged and burned in all of the ways that made Stiles’ deliriously sexed-out mind spin. The thrusts didn’t start off slow. They were fast and rough—forcing Stiles to hold his doggy-style position on the staircase for dear life. But it didn’t matter. His life clearly belonged to Derek and the brutal fucker planned on bending it to his every desire.

“Such a good boy for daddy.” Derek grunted. He gripped his hands onto the back of Stiles’ school backpack—the one that he hadn’t removed after getting home—and used it as an excuse to pull Stiles back onto his huge cock.  “You came home…sweaty…tired…perfectly ready to take my cock, didn’t you?”

“Mmhmm.” Stiles managed out.

Derek kept one of his hands tightly gripped onto the straps Stiles’ backpack—relentlessly pounding into the boy’s tight heat—while he used his other hand to land a resounding slap onto the skin of Stiles’ ass. “Use your words like a good boy.”

“Y—yes.” Stiles stuttered through his stepfather’s thrusts. “I cam—came here—ready for y—you.”

Stiles completely lost himself in the brutal taking. There he was—bent over on the staircase of his home—getting his ass ripped apart in orgasmic rapture by his fucking stepfather. He closed his eyes and let his mouth loll open like a dog as he let Derek control his body and decide when he’d slide back onto the man’s thick cock and when he’s get pulled off for momentary relief.

He could feel Derek’s girthy length scrape against the walls of his insides. It wasn’t like anything Stiles could ever hope to feel. It was what Stiles always wanted to feel. The stimulation was addictive and it drove Stiles’ mind into blankness. He loved letting himself close off to the world and just let Derek rail him for as long or as hard as he wanted. It was a gift.

Derek pulled out and quickly flipped Stiles around so that the boy could essentially sit on one of the steps, but without dissolving Derek’s ability to shove his cock into Stiles’ ass. When Derek thrust back into Stiles, the boy’s eyes glazed over in ecstasy. He was practically salivating—drooling down his chin like a damn slut, hungry for a nice load down the throat.

“I’m gonna fuck the cum right out of that pretty cock.” Derek growled, pulling Stiles’ hairy legs up to rest on his shoulders.

Stiles instinctively laid back against the stairs as he allowed his legs to get hoisted up to lay on Derek’s broad shoulders. Derek continued to fuck into his prostate with an unforgiving rhythm. Getting a hot cock jammed into his prostate repeatedly was just another feeling that Stiles was reluctant to willingly give up. It was something about the way that the prostate stimulation shook his insides with pleasures, the way it left a shivering ache within the length of his cock, the tingling spice at the tip of his leaking head, and the unfathomable clench at his balls.

Derek reached down and freed Stiles’ erect cock from the bounds of the black jockstrap’s front. He took in the sight of his beautiful toy. The lithe twink beneath his power…his force…his thrusts. The exquisite pink flush on the fair skin that was drenched in glowing perspiration. The tiny patch of hair in the center of Stiles’ chest and the hair that lead all the way down to his beautifully built cock.

Even the fact that Stiles was still fully dressed—with the exception of those tight lacrosse shorts—was arousing. The maroon jersey fit Stiles’ toned build and Derek couldn’t wait to watch Stiles add his messy load to the dirt, grass, sweat, and whatever else was already bonded to the fabric. The black jockstrap seemed to frame Stiles’ desirable cock, balls, and legs. And the way Stiles’ sock-covered calves and maroon cleats flopped around with each thrust sent a thrill down Derek’s spine.

“God…Derek.” Stiles groaned, reaching up to grasp Derek’s tie. “I’m gon—I’m gonna fucking cum. Keep doing that. Right there. Holy shit.”

Stiles’ cock rapidly twitched and jolted, spitting streams of thick jizz across the boy’s jersey and even up onto his sweaty face and hair. He clenched his jaw and grinded his teeth together as he rode out his orgasm, meanwhile Derek seemed determined to keep Stiles’ prostate well abused with continuous thrusts.

Derek cradled the sides of Stiles’ face with his big, calloused hands. He worked himself harder into the spent boy beneath him, connecting his eyes with Stiles’. Derek’s salt and peppered hair bounced forward like an unkempt mop mess with each of his thrusts. Sweat dripped down from his face to soak into the already filthy mess on Stiles’ jersey.

“I’m gonna fill you up so full with my load. Do you want it, Stiles? Do you want me to ruin those pretty pink insides of yours with my thick load, baby? Tell me you want it.” Derek demanded sensually, pressing his forehead against Stiles’.

Stiles mumbled something unintelligible—already having succumbed to post-orgasmic drowsiness. His eyes were half-lidded; staring up at the ceiling, as he lazily stroked and tried to keep a slight hold onto Derek’s shoulders. His body was far too weak to actually do much of anything, so he just gladly let Derek finish him off.

Eventually, Derek let out an animalistic growl and stilled inside of Stiles with a finishing thrust. Stiles’ eyes shot open and his mouth slacked open the moment Derek stopped thrusting. He could feel Derek’s thick, scalding heat lodged deep within himself. He could feel his hole clench around Derek’s pulsating cock as it painted his insides with copious amounts of hot cum.

Derek pressed his mouth against Stiles’ neck with hot, heavy breaths. He sloppily sucked and kissed at the teased skin while he gathered the pieces to his scattered mind. Stiles didn’t say anything—not even about Derek’s crushing weight pressing down onto his own body. He just stared into space and let his eyelids draw closed.

“Mm’ tired…” Stiles mumbled into Derek’s clothed shoulder.

Derek wrapped his arms around Stiles’ waist for support and stood up—picking up the boy into his arms. Although Stiles was eighteen years old, he wasn’t all that heavy. He was lanky and not built up with dense muscle…not like Derek was. Derek was able to easily support Stiles’ weight in his arms.

Stiles almost instinctually whimpered out into the silent air around the two of them as the new position jostled around Derek’s softening cock that was still inside of his hole. He wrapped his legs around Derek’s waist and dropped his head into the broadness of his shoulders, closing his eyes once again. He felt extremely relaxed and way too tired to make it up the stairs on his own.

“You were so good for me, Stiles.” Derek cooed, walking up to Stiles’ bedroom. “Let’s get you into bed before your father gets home. We don’t want him to find you hanging off of my cock, do we?”

Derek laid Stiles down onto the bed, letting his cock slip out of Stiles’ hole with a lewd sound. He watched the dribble of his load leak out of Stiles’ abused hole and gave a brief smile down at his work, before he leaned down to help Stiles out of his remaining clothes. Derek removed Stiles’ cleats and pulled off his black socks. He removed the stained jersey, only to use it as a rag to wipe down his own spent cock and then tossed it over to the hamper.

Stiles rubbed at his eyes and ran his hand through his sweaty hair. “What about this?” Stiles asked, snapping the band of his black jockstrap. It was the only thing that Derek hadn’t removed.

“You look too beautiful wearing just that.” Derek explained softly. He pulled the covers over Stiles’ body and wiped the tiny bit of cum that was still on Stiles’ face with the pad of his thumb. “You can take a shower and wash your sheets after you wake up from your nap.”

Derek smiled and walked out of bedroom—his spent cock still hanging out from his trousers. He wanted to rub out another load by himself.

+

A couple weeks later, it was Derek and John’s anniversary. The two had spent all night out together at a nice dinner and a finishing walk alongside the harbor. Stiles had already turned in for the night by the time the two eventually got back home. To Derek and John’s pleasure, Stiles’ sleeping ignorance gave them the privacy to fool around and slip in some great anniversary sex.

It was about three o’clock in the early morning. John was fast asleep—practically dead to the world around him. Derek, on the other hand, hadn’t been struck by the sandman quite yet. The sex with John was fantastic, but Derek felt unfulfilled. There was something deep down within himself that hungered for something more…for somebody more.

Derek slipped himself out of bed, making sure to be extra careful in not moving around too much. The last thing that he wanted to do was wake up John. If that were to happen, then Derek’s dirty plan would be destroyed. He crept out of the bedroom and quietly shut the door behind himself.

He walked down the darkened hallway and snuck into Stiles’ bedroom—closing the door. Unsurprisingly, Stiles was knocked out cold. He was sprawled out on his back across the bed in a position unlike any that Derek had ever placed him in. The outrageous snores were almost adorable and the rise and fall of Stiles’ chest was mesmerizing. Derek stood at the side of Stiles’ bed for a moment and just watched. Not creepily, just intrigued.

Derek gently pulled down the bedsheets to uncover Stiles’ gorgeous body. He was wearing a simple t-shirt and tight boy short boxer briefs that bunched up together so perfectly around Stiles’ flaccid cock and balls. Derek exhaled slowly and tugged at himself through his own boxers. The navy boxer briefs were all that he had on.

Patiently, Derek walked around the front of the bed and climbed onto the mattress as slowly as he could. He didn’t want to rattle around the bed too much, because that would wake Stiles up too quickly. No, Derek didn’t want that quite yet. He wanted to take Stiles apart with his mouth and the soft touch of his hands while Stiles was still under. The two of them had talked about it before—one of them waking each other up with sex—but neither had gotten around to actually doing it.

Derek crawled his way over to Stiles’ sleeping form. He leaned his head downwards and mouthed carefully at Stiles’ boxer-clad dick—smiling to himself when he heard Stiles’ breathing heighten momentarily. He could only imagine how his hot breaths and wet tongue affected Stiles’ dreaming mind. He hoped that they were satisfying.

It didn’t take long for Stiles to get fully erect, even in his sleeping state. His boy-shorts bulged obscenely and Derek's mouth watered with want. Derek dipped the tips of his fingers into the elastic waistband of the boxers and delicately eased them down Stiles’ hipbones and past the curve of his tempting ass.

Stiles’ cock sprung up into the air and nearly slapped Derek across the face. He watched it throb and leak pre-cum as it stood proudly to Derek’s authority. Slowly, Derek leaned down and took the leaking head of the cock into the wetness of his greedy mouth. He lapped leisurely at the slit and hummed contently as he listened attentively to all of the little moans and whimpers that dripped off of Stiles’ pouty lips. 

As Derek continued to work over Stiles’ cock, he reached down into his own boxers and pulled his own throbbing piece free. He hooked the band of his boxers underneath his balls and stroked in rhythm to the bobbing motion of his head. Gradually, he took more and more of Stiles into his throat. Stiles only seemed to leak more pre-cum, but he didn’t wake.

Derek popped two of his fingers into his mouth and then brought them down to prod casually at Stiles’ puckered hole. He pressed around and rubbed and trailed his fingers down the line of Stiles’ crack. He occasionally pressed the tips of his fingers into Stiles’ hole, but didn’t push too far. After all, too much prodding around would have surely woken the boy and Derek wanted to stretch his time out for as much as he could.

Stiles started to thrust mindlessly into the heat of Derek’s mouth. He was still asleep, but clearly reacting to the stimulation. Derek figured that the sucking and slight fingering felt good. He increased his motion and sucked a big harder and a bit faster. He watched Stiles’ legs start to restlessly move around and watched the boy’s toes curl into the sheets of the bed.

After a couple more minutes, Derek pulled off of Stiles’ cock and stopped with the fingering. He straightened his posture, but remained knelt down before Stiles’ body. Gently, Derek pulled off Stiles’ boxers in their entirety and set them aside. He pulled Stiles’ legs apart and looked down at the soft entrance that was flushed from the prodding.

Derek grasped his hand around his large cock and gave it a couple strokes. He spit onto his fingers and pressed them to Stiles’ hole for a second and then wiped his fingers dry onto the bed sheets. Derek pressed his cock up against Stiles’ hole, but didn’t push inside. He relaxed himself and stroked his cock up and down where he knew Stiles was hot and tight for him—only him.

Just as Derek pushed inwards and let the head of his fat cock breach Stiles’ entrance, Stiles’ eyes flickered open. A look of genuine surprise and confusion overtook his face. Instinctively, he threw his hands up in defense and pushed at Derek’s chest in resistance, but then he realized who was hovering above him. It wasn’t some psychotic murderer. It was his extremely hot, obviously horny stepfather.

“Derek…what are you…oh my god.” Stiles moaned, shutting his eyes as Derek quickly bottomed out.

“I wanted to try this out. I know we talked about it—fantasized about this—only in passing, though.” Derek explained as he delivered slow, punishing thrusts. “I wanted to wake you up with a nice fuck.”

“But—but what about my dad? It’s your guys’ anniversary. You shouldn’t be doing this with me. You should be a good husband and go do something with him.”

“We already did. He was great, but I couldn’t stop thinking about you. You’re so much better. What we’re doing…it’s so bad…we’re terrible people…but Hell is going to be so worth it, Stiles.” Derek groaned and kissed Stiles deeply.

Stiles wrapped his legs around Derek’s back and wrapped his arms around Derek’s neck so that he could pull him closer for more kisses. “What if we get caught? He’s sleeping right down the hall. He could hear us. He could catch—”

“That only makes it that much hotter. And as for keeping you’re precious little mouth from spilling sounds too loud—” Derek grabbed Stiles’ discarded boxers and stuffed them into the boy’s mouth. “—these ought to work in our favor.”

Derek pinned Stiles down to the mattress with the strength of his hand and started to pick up pace with this thrusts. The only difference was that they felt deeper and more forceful than ever. The slowness and drowsiness of night apparently affected Derek’s thrust ability, and it was amazing. Well-timed and passionately slow…Stiles was in awe.

Stiles moaned into the make-shift gag and watched Derek smile when it muffled the sound perfectly. He scratched his nails down Derek’s back in an attempt to release pent up frustration from the slow thrusts, despite the fact that they felt so fucking good. Stiles just felt like he needed to dig his nails into something and scream. The scratches only seemed to arouse Derek even more than he already was.

Derek put most of his focus into bending Stiles’ mind to frazzled bliss. He kept his hand on Stiles’ clothed chest and held him down. He watched the way Stiles’ cock bounced as jerked with each ripping thrust. Derek also found immense enjoyment in the way that Stiles’ bed frame creaked with every movement. It was just as enjoyable as watching their shadows paint the wall with pornographic reflections of their sinful acts.

Stiles ran his fingers down Derek’s bare chest and abdomen. He let his fingers graze through the beautiful dark hair and only got more turned on when he noticed the subtle appearance of gray hairs. It was so hot that Derek was older—potentially old enough to be his own father. Something about it was so naughty, but it only gripped his soul tighter and made him willfully aware that he’d probably have to pay for it later.

Derek leaned down and put his mouth to Stiles’ ear. “I want to make this hotter. How about we make this riskier, Stiles? How do you feel about that?”

Stiles nodded his head and Derek jumped into action. He pulled out of Stiles’ hole and picked the boy up into his arms. Stiles was genuinely curious as to what Derek had planned. He was somewhat nervous, but he trusted Derek’s plans. Everything the man did ended up with the best orgasms.

Derek opened Stiles’ bedroom door and walked out into the openness of the dark hallway. Stiles still had his legs wrapped around Derek’s muscular waist. He was startled by Derek’s boldness, but also extremely hard for him. They could so easily get caught. All Stiles’ father had to do was wake up and open his bedroom’s door.

Derek smirked and lowered both himself and Stiles down to the wooden floor. He turned Stiles on his side and pulled one of his legs up into the air—granting him easy access to the tight heat underneath. Derek spit into his hand and quickly rubbed at Stiles’ hole before he plunged his thickness back into Stiles’ ass.

Stiles grunted into the pair of underwear that was still lodged in his mouth. He continued to groan and moan until Derek had the bright idea to rip the saliva-soaked cloth out of his mouth and toss it aside. Stiles quieted himself instantly, petrified to make a sound at the risk that his father would wake up and hear.

“Why did you—do that?” Stiles asked in a whisper, but Derek just continued to thrust into Stiles’ sturdy frame.

“I said that I wanted to make this riskier. Now, you’re gonna have to figure out how to keep yourself from waking your father with moans while I fuck into your pretty little ass.”

Derek flipped Stiles onto his stomach with ease and grabbed onto his slender hips. He listened to Stiles gasp out in surprise and then proceeded to pound fast and brutally hard. The sound of Derek’s hips striking forward against Stiles’ ass cheeks was audible through the vacant hallway. His mind was focused more on pleasuring Stiles than keeping himself quiet enough to not wake his sleeping husband. He knew it was wrong and risky, but it was so hot.

Stiles’ mind thrashed around with debate. The sound of himself getting nailed against the wooden floor sent shivers through his body—electrocuting every piece of himself with joyous satisfaction. It felt good and he definitely didn’t want Derek to stop, nor did he want Derek to let up on the brutality of the fuck. But in the corner of his mind, he thought about how fucking dead both he and Derek would be if John were to hear even the tiniest bit of sex noise.

There was a mirror at the end of the hallway, directly in front of Stiles. It captivated Stiles’ interest with its shameless reflection. Stiles watched Derek’s monstrous muscles bulge as he gripped harder onto Stiles’ hips and fuck faster. It made Stiles delirious to see such a huge and massive stack of built, tanned muscles knelt down behind his own skinny, pale frame, and watch himself get fucking railed by his stepfather. It honestly made his own cock throb and leak onto the wooden floor beneath himself. Meanwhile, Derek didn’t seem to notice the reflection whatsoever. He was too focused on his work.

“Derek, please…” Stiles panted. “I’m gonna—I really going to cum, Derek. Please…please.”

Derek pressed his hand down on Stiles’ lower back, effectively making it so that Stiles’ cock was stuck in-between the cold wooden floor and his warm stomach. Stiles twitched and writhed as he came. He could feel the warm stickiness of his load paste itself between his body and the floor. He couldn’t believe that he had actually just shot a load onto the same hallway floor that he had walked through for his entire life. Now, that was all he’d probably be able to think about.

Derek wasn’t too far behind with his own orgasm. In fact, it came relatively quickly after Stiles’ own. Derek’s balls drew tight. He pulled out and firmly grasped his hand around the base of his flushed cock. He hurriedly flipped Stiles back around and then stood up so that his cock would be level with Stiles’ face.

Stiles knew what Derek wanted, so he willfully complied. He grasped his own hand around Derek’s cock and opened his mouth—sticking his tongue out to catch Derek’s load. He only stroked a couple times and then Derek was done. Stiles watched Derek’s head strike back in toe-curling relief.

Stream after thick stream of white cum blasted across Stiles’ face. Some of it landed on his tongue, all of which he happily swallowed. However, most of Derek’s load painted across his lips, his nose, matted down large portions of the front of his hair, and dripped down from his chin to his t-shirt.

Stiles didn’t care, though. He was just glad that Derek had experienced such a great orgasm. It looked as though it had been savagely ripped from Derek’s body. His muscles had tensed, his toes curled into the hard ground, and his body had shaken ferociously as Stiles had stroked out every last drop.

“That was so fucking hot.” Stiles kept his tone down, but stood up to stand face-to-face with Derek—both of them breathing heavily. “We should do something like this more often, don’t you think?”

Derek nodded and took Stiles’ lips into a heated kiss. He pulled off and glanced down at the wooden floor, which was filthy with splatters of Stiles’ load and a couple rogue sprays of his own load. “You’ve got a mess to clean up.”

Stiles looked down to the sex-stained floor and smiled back at Derek. He nodded, confirming that he’d be perfectly fine with cleaning up the mess. After all, it was the least that he could do considering how much award-worthy work Derek put into all of that orgasmic thrusting.

“I’ll clean the floor and myself up.” Stiles kissed Derek again. “Go get back into bed before my dad notices you’re missing.”

The two shared one final goodnight kiss. Derek shoved his spent cock back into the confines of his boxers and then hurried back to the master bedroom. Upon entering the bedroom, Derek was relieved to find that John was still fast asleep in the bed. He hadn’t woken up and was still blissfully ignorant to everything.

Derek climbed onto his side of the bed—less carefully than he had previously exited. He settled himself down underneath the covers and John groaned groggily, turning over to plaster his hand across Derek’s bare chest.

“Are you okay? Do you have a fever or something? You’re all sweaty.” John said, still masked slightly by slumber.

Derek clasped his hand over John’s and pressed a loving kiss to his forehead. “I’m fine. It’s just a little stuffy in here, that’s all.”