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Sweet Indulgences

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It’s too damn hot. Stiles frowns as he kicks his legs at the blankets, trying to get them off. His frown deepens when he realizes he isn’t able to move his legs very much at all. They’re pinned down, and he might be still half-asleep, but he knows he went to bed last night in his cozy king without a heavy beam of lumber across his thighs. There’s suddenly a constricting tightness around his chest, too. That’s what makes him finally wake up, blinking blearily at the light coming in from around the curtains covering his windows. It’s already light outside? He slept until daylight instead of drinking coffee while watching the sunrise like usual?

“Stop moving,” a husky voice murmurs from behind him. “You’re wiggling too much.”

Stiles has a moment of panic, forcing the person behind him to let go so he can scramble off the bed. What the fuck? Who is sleeping in his bed and using him like their own life-size teddy bear? By the time he’s freaked out and already got off the bed, he remembers being woken up at ass o’clock in the morning by Derek and them falling into bed. He raises his head to see that Derek is now awake and just looking at him with a bemused expression on a face that shouldn’t look that good first thing in the morning.

“Everything alright, Stiles?” Derek drawls his question, lips quirking just slightly, and it’s obvious he knows Stiles had a memory lapse. Still, Stiles doesn’t have to admit it.

“Yep. A-okay here.” Stiles drags his fingers through his hair. “I was just too hot. Had to cool off. You’re like a freaking heater, and I’m not used to anyone sleeping with me when I’m naked.”

Derek yawns then smiles at him. “You aren’t, huh? Glad to know the pack familiarity doesn’t extend to nudity.”

“Yeah, no. Only three members of the pack have ever seen my junk.” Stiles crawls back onto the bed so he can pull the covers over him. Derek might be too hot for snuggling, but it’s really cool this morning, so he isn’t going to just stand there chatting. “Wait. Four. I forgot that Allison’s seen me changing at work.”

“Four?” Derek arches a brow, his expression curious. “Do you often parade around naked or what?”

“Well, like I said, Allison’s a work thing. Scotty’s Scotty. We’ve been friends since forever, and we totally jerked off together when we were twelve, and I discovered porn on the internet and thus had to share this discovery with my BFF.” Stiles just pokes Derek’s chest with his pointer finger when Derek growls softly. “There might have even been some mutual hand jobs pre-Allison because Scotty has a tough time telling me no when I suggest getting in trouble.”

“Might have been, huh?” Derek moves his leg over Stiles’ thighs and drags him across the bed to get him even closer. “The other two?”

“Oh! Well, a very drunken one night stand with Jackson that we don’t really remember all that much, but I know he saw my junk because it was totally buried in his ass at some point of the night. The other’s Danny, who was my senior year fuck buddy.” Stiles purses his lips as he thinks about it. “You know, Jordan’s also seen it because there was this whole nearly drowned by water nymphs thing before I really started learning magic, and he dragged me out, stripped me down, and made sure I got warm before I caught a cold. Hey, I think Kira probably has, too, now that I think about it…Hell, maybe they all have? I don’t know, dude. It’s nudity. I’m not some gorgeous specimen of manhood, but I’m not exactly shy.”

“So they’ve seen it, but only three have actually touched it?” Derek is touching Stiles’ chest, rubbing his thumb over his nipples until they’re hardened peaks. “You’re wrong, by the way. You are a pretty gorgeous specimen of manhood, albeit one lacking any modesty about his cock, apparently.”

“Hey, I’ve got a great dick. Even the one night stands who start off adamant that it’s a one-time thing can’t get enough of it.” Stiles reaches down to glide his fingers along the underside of Derek’s dick. “It’s not a monster like this should be in porn thing, but I know what I’m doing with it, and I prefer girth to length usually anyway.”

Derek rolls over Stiles, leaning down to lick his neck. “Those one night stands? They don’t come here, do they? I can’t smell anyone but you in here.”

“Nah, I don’t bring them home. It’s usually a quickie in the bathroom of a club or maybe a car, but occasionally it’s a stop at their apartment or something. I keep the lines pretty clear so there’s no confusion.” Stiles runs his fingers through the hair covering Derek’s chest. “I don’t like mixing my personal life with my sex life.”

“So that’s why you freaked.” Derek raises his head and looks down at Stiles. “I could hear your heartbeat racing, and you smelled like anxiety at first. You’ve never woken up next to someone like this, have you?”

“Not like this,” Stiles mutters, feeling a slight flush on his face that he hates passionately. “Pack cuddling isn’t the same as naked cuddling with a hot guy who has sucked my dick.”

“No, I suppose it isn’t.” Derek’s expression is gentle and affectionate in a way that makes Stiles’ stomach hurt. “I don’t have much experience with it, either, you know? Not like this.”

“Yeah?” Stiles licks his lips and shifts under Derek. “It’s weird.”

“How so?”

“I don’t know. I mean, I’m used to waking up alone. Not having heart to heart talks before I even have my coffee.”

“I think I like it. Waking up with you in my arms, your scent surrounding me…it feels right.”

“Don’t start the destiny shit this early in the morning.”

“I’m not talking about the mate thing, Stiles. I’m just talking about two men who are spending time together.”

“Your earnestness is adorable, but I don’t believe you.”

“If we’d never had a mating bite, I’d still feel the same after everything that’s happened over the last week.”

“You don’t know that. Hell, you can’t know that. If there hadn’t been a bite, I’d have left San Francisco, and we wouldn’t have even seen each other again until you moved down here. Then you’d have been that one night stand from the masquerade with the great mouth and surly attitude that I’d awkwardly try to avoid because I don’t repeat casual sex usually.”

Derek snorts. “Fine, say it went your way. I’d have still wanted to shut you up with my cock, and I don’t play by anyone’s rules but my own normally, so I’d end up getting what I want eventually. And it would have been great, so we’d have kept doing it, casually if you insisted, and we’d still have ended up right here at some point.”

“God, you’re impossible,” Stiles groans, leaning up to kiss Derek without even caring about gross morning breath. Even if it had been nice, after his initial surprise, he can’t get used to this because it’s only temporary. He has to remember that, which is going to be difficult when faced with Derek’s optimistic sincerity all the time. He almost wishes the snarky asshole thing extended to all facets of Derek’s personality. Almost.

The thing is, he likes the non-snarky asshole parts, too, and he resents himself for even thinking that way. Where’s his trusty old cynicism now? Not here. Not when Derek’s looking down at him like he’s the most beautiful and special thing in the world and talking nonsense about them ending up together even without the soulmate thing. Because, God help him, Stiles wants to believe that, wants to think about them meeting each other without the whole mating thing and just snarking and fucking and a relationship growing out of that without the seriousness of being werewolf married.

Derek reaches between them as they kiss, his hand gripping both their dicks just tight enough to make Stiles gasp into the kiss. He ruts up against Derek’s hand, feeling their dicks slide against each other, licking into Derek’s mouth as they roll their hips. Stiles grips Derek’s broad shoulders as he writhes beneath him, needing more friction, wanting more contact. Their kisses get less rough, not so wet, deeper and more thorough, exploring each other with their tongues as they keep grinding against each other and fucking into Derek’s tight fist.

It is over embarrassingly quick. Stiles’ hips start stuttering, his mouth going slack against Derek’s, his body tensing then trembling as he spills his come between them. Derek makes a low keening noise before he’s moving his hips faster, grinding against Stiles’ spent dick, coming with a gasp captured by Stiles’ mouth. Stiles is going to blame morning wood and a whole lot of sex dreams this week for the reason why he went off faster than a fifteen year old virgin being touched for the first time.

“Sorry, didn’t mean for things to get so far out of hand,” Derek murmurs against his kiss swollen lips. “I was just going to tease us.”

“You don’t hear me complaining, do you?” Stiles huffs a laugh and kisses Derek lightly. “I’m sticky now, though, and the last thing I want to do is start the day off with dried come sticking to my skin. I’m taking a quick shower, alright?”

“Seriously?” Derek blinks down at him. “You can’t wait a few minutes?”

“You could always shower with me?” Stiles doesn’t answer the actual question because he doesn’t want Derek to realize he’s avoiding after sex snuggling because that seems too coupley and romantic. He is trying to get his mind back to the whole temporary relationship only thing, so romantic stuff is something he has to try to elude as much as possible.

“Don’t tell me. Let me guess. For environmental conservation efforts?” Derek studies him a moment, almost like he can see through Stiles’ bullshit, but he just smiles and rolls off Stiles. “Sure. We can clean up, then I’m going to make you breakfast.”

“Dude, you don’t have to make breakfast. I was just jerking your chain when I said that.” Stiles gets out of bed and grabs a clean pair of underwear out of the dresser. “I can’t believe I slept this late. It’s after nine already. I didn’t even wake up once after we went to bed. That’s pretty rare for me. Uh, nightmares, you know?”

“I haven’t slept past six since I stopped drinking and partying all night,” Derek admits. “I woke up a few hours ago, but it felt too good lying against you to get out of bed yet, so I just went back to sleep.” He meets Stiles’ gaze. “And, yes, I know about nightmares. You get them often?”

“Nah, not compared to a few years ago.” Stiles shrugs. “I’ve still got some dark shit in my head, leftover from, uh, past trauma, I guess you’d say. Some nights it just takes over my subconscious, and staying awake drinking a lot of Monsters is better than risking the nightmares.”

“Monsters don’t work on me. I usually just keep a book by the bed and read whenever I wake up from nightmares.” Derek follows him into the bathroom and stops to stare. “I didn’t expect this.”

“I’ve never tried reading. Netflix and Monsters is usually my thing. Maybe you can read to me some time,” Stiles suggests, deliberately not looking at Derek because that isn’t a kinky sex suggestion, and he can’t believe he actually said it. He looks at the bathroom and looks back at Derek, arching a brow. “What?”

“Huh?” Derek blinks at him, his ears flushing red as he looks away. “Uh, the bathroom. The rest of the house is falling apart, but this is really nice.” He glances at Stiles. “Also, about that other thing, I’d like that. Reading to you, I mean.”

“Oh, right. Well, whatever.” Stiles clears his throat and drops his underwear on the floor. “As for the bathroom, it’s the housewarming gift from the pack. Well, Jackson and Lydia paid for it, but the rest of the pack helped remodel it. It’s supposed to be a tranquil retreat to help wash away the stress of the day. I don’t know. Some bullshit like that. Lydia’s the only person who knows I like indulging in bubble baths sometimes, so she made sure there was a huge tub big enough for two, and the shower can actually fit several people. Not that I’ve ever tried it out with anyone.”

“Jackson the guy you fucked while drunk during high school?” Derek looks slightly amused. “And Lydia is the step-sister?”

“Yes, to both questions. They’re married,” Stiles explains, having to laugh at Derek’s dumbfounded expression. “Jackson and I did our thing during one of their off again periods in school. They got married after graduation, though, and he’s a decent brother-in-law, even if he can get possessive over family even more than pack. He’s adopted, and his parents gave him everything money can buy, but they also gave him a lot of high expectations and no real support, so he needs us quite a bit. You’ll probably hate him, though. He’s a smug asshole like you, only he doesn’t have the adorkable thing going on behind the asshole exterior. He’s just an asshole.”

“Sounds charming,” Derek deadpans. “It doesn’t make family dinners awkward with you and your step sister both knowing what his cock feels like? I honestly don’t know if I’d be able to handle knowing I was fucking someone who had fucked Laura or Cora at some point.”

“Don’t worry, Der. I don’t plan on seducing your sisters.” Stiles grins. “Now, your brothers, on the other hand…”

“And you say this Jackson guy is an asshole.” Derek rolls his eyes before slapping Stiles’ left ass cheek hard enough to sting.

“Hey, no spanking!” Stiles wags a finger at him. “Kink negotiation and consent are very important things.”

“That was an ass slap. If I was going to spank you, really spank you, you’d be over my knees with that cute ass in the air counting out every single hit of my hand against that pretty bare skin,” Derek points out, that sexy tone to his voice that Stiles is starting to hate (totally love). “And only after we’d discussed it, to make sure I knew your limits and didn’t go too far.”

“Smug prick.” Stiles turns on the shower. “What if I like going too far sometimes? Maybe I want to test my limits.”

“When you trust me, I’d be happy to help you do that,” Derek admits, shrugging when Stiles whips his head around to stare him. “Sex is fun, Stiles, but I know you don’t know me well enough to trust me yet, so some of these things we talk about couldn’t happen until the trust is there. For both of us. That kind of trust takes time, and we’ll get there. I know we will.”

“That’s not the answer I was expecting.” Stiles just stares at him, not saying that he figured there’d be some dirty talk and posturing and me alpha take you type shit. Instead, he gets a gentle Derek talking about trust and kinky sex with limits. “Who are you?”

“Derek,” Derek says, flashing the crinkly eyed smile. “Stop staring at me like that. It’s uncomfortable.”

“You’re like the eighth wonder of the world, man.” Stiles shakes his head. “Beautiful and rare, coveted by many but owned by none. It’s not at all what I’d have expected when we first met.”

“When we first met, I was at a formal ball socializing with people I don’t know, two situations I hate before they even start, and I was hiding in the darkened alcove to escape my meddling mother. My attitude sucked, and then you were there smelling so damn good, all wiseass snark and snappy wit,” Derek minds him. “I could have written odes to your full lips, to your long fingers, to the moles that made me want to trace them with my tongue, but I ended up snarling back at you because, well, I can be an ass, especially then because I felt this instant attraction that had me wanting to fuck you or get fucked before you even opened your mouth.”

“Odes, huh?” Stiles rubs the back of his neck and looks over at Derek through lowered lashes. “I’m expecting some poetry now, I hope you realize. Good poetry, too. My mom was an English teacher, so I know the bad shit.”

Derek walks towards him. No, not even walks. Stalks him, like he’s prey, the look in his eyes making Stiles unconsciously gulp. “Whoever desired each other as we do? Let us look for the ancient ashes of hearts that burned,” Derek’s voice is husky in all the best ways, and he touches Stiles’ cheek, his jaw, like he’s being allowed to touch the stars themselves. Fuck. “And let our kisses touch there, one by one,” Derek emphasizes the kisses with chaste presses of their lips together, “till the flower, disembodied, rises again.”

“You, uh, you didn’t write that,” Stiles stammers, licking his lips as he stares at Derek.

“No, Pablo Neruda did, but he must have had a vision of us, of your beautiful lips, that inspired him.” Derek traces the seam of Stiles’ mouth with his tongue.

Stiles whines (fuck, he’s whining like a desperate needy thing now), opening his mouth and kissing Derek with a hint of desperation that will probably embarrass him later but that he ignores right now. Derek returns the kiss, picking him like he weighs nothing, stepping under the warm spray from the showerheads above them. Slick lips rubbing against each other, dragging down, sucking and stroking, tongues moving together like they’re dancing. What the hell does that even mean? Who cares? Stiles certainly doesn’t, not when Derek’s sucking on his tongue and kneading his ass with those strong hands.

Eventually, they calm down, pulling apart and just looking at each other. Stiles is pretty sure he’s grinning like a goofball, but Derek doesn’t seem to care so whatever. They soap up, helping each other reach the tough parts of their bodies, light caresses that are more about exploring than starting anything sexual. Then Derek washes Stiles’ hair, and he’s a goner. His knees get weak, his pulse is racing, and his dick is hardening just from the feel of Derek’s capable fingers massaging soap into his hair and rubbing his scalp. There might be a whimper or two involved, but Stiles will deny it if ever questioned, and there’s definitely more kissing after the shampoo is rinsed from his hair, which he’ll totally admit to if asked.

Somehow, they manage to wash up before the water turns cold. Stiles gets one of the expensive fuzzy towels out of the closet for Derek then takes one for himself. When he’s reasonably dry, he pulls his underwear on, and then shakes his head, sending droplets of water Derek’s way. He runs before Derek can return the favor, but Derek chases him. He’s caught by the bed, pinned to his rug on the floor, laughing as Derek rubs his wet hair against his chest. “Stop it, you ass. You’ll get me wet again.”

“You shouldn’t run with the big dogs if you can’t take the heat,” Derek says, grinning down at him when he raises his head. Of course, Stiles can’t just let that go, so he catches Derek by surprise, bucking up and then rolling them over, so he’s on top. He grins triumphantly down at Derek, who stares him for a moment before quickly attacking his mouth.

There’s more kissing then, so much kissing that Stiles feels like his lips are swollen and almost numb by the time they come up for air. He’s never been fond of kissing before, always sort of associating it with romance and not one night stands, but he’s been missing out because he fucking loves it. Loves the feel of Derek’s lips against his, of the tongues and teeth and even the awkward bits with their noses bumping and teeth scraping too hard sometimes.

They finally stop making out on his rug when his stomach growls, reminding him he’s hungry. “You promised me food,” he points out, stealing one more kiss before he gets up. He isn’t sure what’s on the agenda for the day, so he grabs a pair of jeans and a t-shirt out of his closet instead of just pulling on comfy sweats. “Hey, you left your shirt here last time, so here’s something clean to wear!”

Derek catches the shirt and sniffs it, his lips twisting slightly. “Smells like you,” he murmurs, tossing it on the bed as he walks to where his clothes from last night are piled on the floor.

“I’ve got some underwear you can borrow, if you want. I mean, they’ll be too small for you, no doubt, but they’re a bigger size than I usually get because I grabbed a pack and they’d been shelved wrong. I didn’t bother to take them back since I tossed the receipt before I realized.” Stiles opens his dresser and tosses the pack to Derek.

“Thanks. I hate wearing dirty underwear. Usually just go commando, but that isn’t too fun with tight denim.” Derek smiles when Stiles lets out a strangled noise then opens the pack, pulling out a pair of boxer briefs. When he puts them on, Stiles watches, wondering what it says about his brain that he finds it almost as hot watching him get dressed as he does watching him strip. The fabric is very snug, making his dick look even bigger, and Stiles groans audibly when Derek turns around and bends over to pick up his jeans.

“That ass. Fuck.” Stiles’ fingers itch to touch, but he can’t because he really is hungry. For food. Not just for Derek. “One day, I’m going to spread those cheeks and lick at your hole until it opens up for me, and then I’m going to fuck you with my tongue until you come on my sheets without even touching your dick.”

Derek looks over his shoulder at him and smirks. “I’d like to see you try.”

“I’ll have you begging for it,” he promises, walking over to trace his fingers over the ink covering Derek’s back. He noticed glimpses of it in the shower, but it’s the first time he’s really had a chance to study it. “Nice ink.”

“Thanks.” Derek ducks his head and takes several deep breaths. “My siblings and I all got one for Cora’s eighteenth birthday. We chose a Triskelion, for past, present, and future. It can also represent the alpha, beta, and omega positons in the pack hierarchy. I don’t know. It can have a lot of meanings, but mostly it’s about balance. It was important to me to remember the present and future had to balance the past, so I decided to do a full back piece.”

“I like it.” Stiles kisses the top swirl before stepping away. Derek turns to stare at him for a moment before he picks up the discarded Henley and pulls it over his head. He’s standing there in tight underwear and the soft Henley now, and it short circuits Stiles’ brain for a moment.

“I’m glad. If this does work out between us, if we formalize our mating, I’ll probably ask you to get one, too. Smaller, obviously, but it’s important to me.” Derek shrugs before pulling on his jeans.

“Needles and I aren’t the best of friends,” Stiles tells him honestly. “You’d have to really make it worth my while.”

“I can do that.” Derek smiles and grips the back of Stiles’ neck, pulling him in for a sweet kiss. “Now let’s go make that oatmeal.”

You make the oatmeal while I watch. None of this ‘us’ thing about it, Chef Derek.” Stiles bumps his hip against Derek’s before heading downstairs. When he enters the kitchen, he sees Malia and Kira sitting at the island munching on cereal and flipping through magazines. “Morning, ladies.”

“You slept late.” Malia looks up with a slight frown before she blinks as Derek comes up behind him. “I can see why.”

“Wowsers.” Kira gapes at Derek for a moment before grinning. “Hi! I’m Kira! This is my girlfriend, Malia! You must be Derek? I hope you’re Derek, at least, because, if you aren’t, this could get awkward real fast.”

“Kira and Malia are pack,” Stiles tells him, giving him a warning look to be nice. He walks around the island and gives each of the woman a kiss on the cheek. “Yes, this is Derek. He got in late last night. Well, really, it was early this morning. He got packed faster than planned, so he decided to surprise me.”

“Oh my God. That’s so romantic and sweet.” Kira sighs happily before she studies Derek. “Do you talk at all?”

“I talk.” Derek ducks his head, ears turning red as Kira coos and even Malia looks a little less resting bitch face. “Nice to meet you both. I, uh, the scents. I can’t quite…”

“Kitsune.” Kira waves her fingers.

“Coyote.” Malia is staring at Derek curiously as she sniffs in his direction. “Have we met before?”

“I don’t think so.” Derek walks closer and sniffs the air, nostrils flaring. Moving closer to Malia, he dips his head down and takes a deep inhalation of breath.

“Hey now. No scenting anyone in my pack,” Stiles says, slapping at Derek’s shoulder.

“Family. Not pack.” Derek’s eyes are red when he raises his head. “Who are your parents?”

“I was adopted by the Tates. My mom was a real piece of work. Desert Wolf. She’s dead now. No idea about the sperm donor bio Dad, though.” Malia shrugs, so matter-of-fact that it makes Stiles smile. When she first came to the pack as Kira’s friend, he hadn’t been sure if he even liked her all that much, but now she’s one of his favorites.

“Scott said once that she smells kinda like Creepy Pete,” Stiles adds, giving Derek a look. “We figured not knowing for certain might be better than knowing, if you know what I mean?”

Derek makes a face. “You really think my uncle might be?” He shakes his head. “I wouldn’t actually be that surprised. He’s got a few kids out there, all different moms. There are some cousins I haven’t even met yet.”

“Yeah, well, if he got off banging the Desert Wolf, I might be another.” Malia smirks. “So, speaking of banging, it smells like you and Stiles have been enjoying yourselves. The stench of sex and hormones is almost too much.”

“I like it.” Kira grins. “Stiles needs to get laid well and often, and you look like someone who can do that, Derek.”

“He’s about to make oatmeal,” Stiles interrupts before they can possibly make things too uncomfortable with nosy graphic questions that he doesn’t really want to answer. Because they’d then wonder why not when he’s usually so candid about his sexual indiscretions. And that would force him to think about the answer to that question, which he’d rather avoid even considering.

“Oh! Like real oatmeal? Not boxed?” Kira slides off the stool and takes her bowl to the sink. “Can we have some? We raided your Lucky Charms, Stiles, but oatmeal sounds awesome.”

“You actually bought Lucky Charms?” Derek gives him a disappointed look. “After I told you about the sugary lumps of death?”

“Of course. You made them sound even more magically delicious than usual.” Stiles blinks innocently.

“You’re such a brat.” Derek’s smile is fond. He looks at Malia. “I’m going to ask my mom if she knows of Peter having any kind of dalliance with someone who went by that name. I’m really curious now if you’re my cousin or not.”

“Sure. Let me know what you find out.” Malia pops a marshmallow into her mouth. “Mmm. Death.”

“Oh great. There are two of them,” Derek mutters, looking at Kira. “Please tell me there aren’t three.”

“Nope. I’m the nice one.” Kira beams at him.

“Don’t even try it, Kira. Mischief is your middle name.” Stiles wags a finger at her.

“Yet I’m still the nice one compared to you two.” She sticks her tongue out at them before grinning at Derek. “Can I help? I like cooking.”

“Alright.” Derek seems a little hesitant, possibly overwhelmed, and Stiles wonders if he should ask the ladies to leave. But, no, Derek has to deal with his life, which means the pack being around sometimes, and if Derek can’t handle that, it’s better to know now versus later when he maybe does start to develop feelings or some shit. Derek smiles almost shyly at Kira. “Can you show me where everything is located? I need oats, blueberries, maple syrup, and several other spices and stuff.”

“I can definitely do that.” Kira gives Derek a tour of the kitchen, and Stiles sits next to Malia, stealing some of her marshmallows as he watches Derek cook. There are more than a few comments directed at him for having so much processed food and unhealthy options, but whatever.

“You’re a smitten kitten,” Malia whispers in his ear. “I swear I see heart eyes.”

“Shh. No one asked you,” he whispers back, not looking away from Derek’s ass and flexing biceps as he stirs the oatmeal while giving Kira the instructions on how to make it.

Malia grips his chin and forces his head to the side so he’s looking at her. “If he hurts, I’ll kill him. Got it?”

“Got it. But you’d have to get in line behind me.” He leans over to kiss the tip of her nose.

“Well, I’d help bury the pieces left then.” She wrinkles her nose before rubbing it with her hand. “Stop ogling his ass. It’s weird seeing you all like that.”

“Like what?” he asks curiously.

“Happy and moony.” Malia rolls her eyes before leaning against the island. “So, Hot Ass, is that Camaro out front yours or did you steal it on the drive down here?”

“It’s mine.” Derek looks over his shoulder and arches a brow. “Hot Ass?”

“I’m an equal opportunity ass appreciator.” Malia grins. “Can I drive it later? How fast does it go?”

“Just say no,” Kira tells him quickly. “Do not let her drive your fancy sports car.”

“What’s this about a Camaro?” Stiles slides off the stool and walks to the window that overlooks the front yard. He sees the big moving truck parked in the grass, and, sure enough, there’s a trailer attached that has a very expensive looking model of a Camaro. “Nice wheels.”

“I’ll let you drive it later,” Derek tells him with a slight grin. “Laura’s planning to drive my other car down sometime next week. It’s a more practical pack car than the Camaro.”

“I get to drive it? Now I know you’re just trying to get into my pants,” Stiles teases, rolling his hips deliberately as he walks away from the window and over to the stove. “That looks lumpy and very oatmeal like. I don’t really see how it’s going to taste as awesome as you’ve described.”

“You’ll love it. Just wait and see.” Derek winks at him before stirring a little faster. Soon, he’s finished, and he tops each bowl with some fresh blueberries to compliment the ones he mixed into the oatmeal.

It’s delicious. Stiles doesn’t even like oatmeal much, it’s got an odd texture that makes his tongue feel weird, but this is perfect. He has to bite back a moan when he tastes the spices and flavors on his taste buds. Kira and Malia are practically orgasming as they eat, so he isn’t giving Derek the satisfaction of his own moaning. “It’s okay,” he mutters, shrugging as if he totally doesn’t love it like it’s a new favorite thing.

“Oh, good. I’ll take the rest of yours then,” Malia says, reaching for his bowl and getting her hand smacked when she gets close.

“No touchy my food.” He wags a finger at her. “Mine.”

“Are you going to be making breakfast every morning, Derek?” Kira asks casually.

“Danger, Will Robinson. Do not answer that question, babe,” Stiles warns, taking another bite of his oatmeal.

“Babe?” Derek grins at him before looking at Kira. “Yes, I’ll probably be making breakfast every day because Stiles needs to eat healthier. His nutritional input is pretty crappy.”

“Normally, I have to be at the school at seven. I teach elementary, third grade,” Kira explains. “So this hypothetical breakfast…will it be ready before then?”

“I’m a teacher, too. High school, though. Stereotypical coach who teaches, but history is actually my focus and not sports.” Derek smiles. “I might be able to swing by the elementary school to drop off breakfast occasionally once I get settled in and especially once I can get a job at the high school.”

“Me too. I want food, too.” Malia nods emphatically. “You’re my cousin, so you have to agree.”

“He isn’t your cousin for certain,” Stiles points out. “And you need to ask instead of telling.”

“Fine. Can I have food, too,” Malia says in a way that makes it sound like a command instead of a question.

Derek looks flattered instead of irritated, and he nods. “Of course. You’re Stiles’ pack, and he’s my mate. I take care of you like you’re mine, too.”

The mate thing is a cold reminder to Stiles that he needs to pull back and not be so open and willing to give everything to some guy he just met. Kira looks at him closely before she focuses on Derek. “Do you need any help unloading the moving truck? Malia and I played hooky today for early morning doctor’s visits, just routine check-ups, Stiles, nothing’s wrong. Anyway, it’s the least we can do after being fed so well.”

“Actually, I’m not sure where I’m going to be unpacking. I figured I’d rent a storage place since a lot of that stuff will probably go into my place once it’s built,” Derek explains, looking at Stiles with a concerned look when he eats his oatmeal quietly.

Stiles sighs, knowing it’s not fair to blame Derek for his own lapse. He smiles wryly. “You can fill up one of the larger spare rooms upstairs. The roof is going to be fixed next week, according to the guy that some stubborn asshole sent out Tuesday. Not sure if everything will fit, but it’s better than paying out the ass for a storage unit.”

“Great. We know which room.” Malia gets up and goes over to Derek, pawing him as she takes his keys out of his pocket. “Niiiice. Get it, Stiles!” She winks at him before rushing off with Kira, both of them whispering and giggling.

“If it’s easier, I can just rent a storage place,” Derek says softly. “I know you aren’t thrilled about sharing your house with me anyway.”

“I told you, it’s fine. I just don’t want to get used to you being here all the time because eventually you won’t be. I’m really going to be okay with it, though. Promise.” Totally a lie, but Stiles can lie with the best of them, so whatever. “Anyway, storage places in Beacon Hills really are outrageously priced because there isn’t a competitive market.”

“I can afford it.” Derek’s smile is faint as he rubs his thumb over Stiles’ jaw. “You can get used to me, Stiles. I’m not planning on going anywhere.”

“It’s probably better if I don’t,” Stiles whispers, looking into those beautiful eyes before he huffs a laugh. “Anyway, you’re obviously paying a huge payment for that fancy car out front, and I know for a fact teaching doesn’t pay all that well. We should probably discuss finances and smart ways of spending money when you lecture me about nutrition.”

“Finances?” Derek snorts. “Stiles, I told you about Margot using me for my trust fund, remember? I don’t live on a teacher’s salary.”

“I thought you were just using a figure of speech.” Stiles blinks at him. “You actually meant trust fund? Like enough money to drive a Camaro and rent a storage unit?”

Derek whispers a figure in his ear that makes Stiles laugh semi-hysterically because what the fuck? That makes Jackson look poor. “That doesn’t include the monthly allowance my parents provide for all pack members to ensure we’re always taking care of our needs. I can live on that comfortably without ever touching the money in the bank.”

“You’re really Bruce Wayne, not me. We totally fucked up the names for that role playing.” Stiles just gapes at him. “For the record, do not think you can buy my affection. I don’t care how rich you are, I’m not for sale.”

“If I thought for a moment that you were, I wouldn’t be here, soulmate or not,” Derek says seriously.

“That? That’s the best thing you’ve ever said to me.” Stiles leans in to kiss him, gripping his hair and deepening the kiss until he hears the door opening followed by chattering voices. He pulls back and steps away, smiling at Derek. He doesn’t believe in the soulmate thing enough to be here if he thought Stiles was a gold digger. Maybe that means there’s a chance for them, after all.

“Is there anything you want left out?” Kira asks as she pokes her head in the door. “The stuff that says bedroom, probably? Anything else?”

“Huh?” Derek looks at her and slowly nods. “Yes, the bedroom stuff. Some of it can in storage, but I need to check through it. The kitchen stuff should come in here. Stiles doesn’t have a lot of the appliances that I do, so we can use mine instead of buying new ones. Don’t mess with the books. They’re all heavy, and I can get them easily enough. Let me clean up the kitchen, then I’ll be out to help. Thank you for helping, Kira.”

“Any time, Derek. You’re practically family anyway.” She grins before leaving.

“You cooked, so I can clean,” Stiles says, picking up the dirty bowls and taking them to the sink. “That was really good, you know?”

“I know.” Derek looks smug when Stiles rolls his eyes at him. “How fresh are these?”

“What?” He looks over to see Derek with his hand in the cookie jar. “I baked them Wednesday. But I highly doubt they’d be on your diet, fitness guru.”

“Hey, I told you I allow for sweet indulgences,” Derek reminds him, munching on an oatmeal raisin cookie and licking his fingers clean. “You’ve got to indulge sometimes, Stiles.”

“Yeah, you did tell me that right before turning talk about cakes and ice cream into sex talk.” Stiles slowly smiles. “So that’s one of your weaknesses, isn’t it? Desserts? Mr. Fitness Nutrition has a sweet tooth. You actually are human, after all.”

“Werewolf, but close enough.” Derek kicks him lazily when Stiles laughs. “Just wait until you try the dark chocolate raspberry cake that I make. It might actually be better than an orgasm.”

Stiles shakes his head. “No way. It might be almost as good, like that oatmeal, but nothing is as good as an orgasm, especially with you.”

“You say the sweetest things. Babe.” Derek just grins when Stiles tosses a handful of dish suds at him.

“Just for that, get that hot ass over here and dry. The ladies need our help, well, your help while I direct, so let’s get these dishes done.” If Stiles leans up to brush a quick kiss against Derek’s jaw when he joins him, well, no one sees it so it might not have happened.