Work Header

Of First Dates and Sexy Fun Times (A.K.A. Derek the Slutbag and Stiles the Hoebag)

Work Text:

 Stiles thrust his fingers through Derek’s hair and heaved himself forward on his knees. “How the fuck are you so hot?” His teeth grabbed at Derek’s bottom lip and he suckled on it lightly. “Like any sassy-ness is a bonus. Or like I have to sacrifice something for it.” He released Derek’s bottom lip and moved his lips to press against Derek’s jawline, and neck before moving up to tug at Derek’s ear. “But with you it comes already installed.” Derek groaned and his hands clenched at Stiles’ hips, rocking and grinding them slowly. Stiles dropped his head back and luxuriated in the friction. “I’ve been blessed by the Sex Gods.”

Derek chuckled and moved one hand to tug Stiles’ mouth back to his neck before tipping his head back and revealing more unmarked skin. “Does this mean we have to give them an offering?” Derek’s fingers curled into the short hair at the nape of Stiles’ neck as Stiles gave him a particularly hard nip right below his ear. 

Stiles paused, leaned back, and guided the hand that was still curled at the nape of his neck down his body to his hip. After he had Derek’s hands placed where he wanted them, his long fingers inched toward the waist band of Derek’s boxer briefs. “Oh Derek, we’re going to give them the best damn sex offering they’ve ever seen.”

Stiles rolled his hips down against the cotton of Derek’s boxer briefs. “Come on Derek, get naked already.”

Derek gripped hard at Stiles’ hips and leaned forward to capture Stiles’ lips in a heated kiss. “Why do I have to get me naked? Why can’t you get me naked?”

Stiles shoved the tips of his fingers underneath Derek’s waistband and gripped hard trying to get as much leverage as he could. He thrust his erection forward against Derek’s regrettably clothed erection. “Come on Derek,” Stiles whined, “I’m balanced precariously on your lap and you're not doing anything.” Stiles wiggled as if to demonstrate both his precarious positioning and his arousal. Stiles leaned forward and began pressing hot kisses to Derek’s shoulders and chest. “Come on, man.”

Derek gripped hard at Stiles’ hips to keep him in place and bucked his hips up to thrust his clothed erection against Stiles’. Stiles moaned into Derek’s chest and tried to follow the friction down but Derek’s grip kept him from it. “Who says,” Derek panted, “I’m not doing anything important with my hands?” Derek ground his erection up against Stiles’. His hands moved and twisted Stiles’ hips the way he wanted them. “Come on, Stiles,” Derek leaned back to pull his chest away from Stiles’ fevered kisses. “Undress me. Pull the cotton down until my cock is uncovered just for you.”

Stiles whined and rocked forward to capture Derek’s lips in a bruising kiss of lips, tongue, and harsh breaths. “Derek,” Stiles whined, fingers scrabbling at Derek’s waistband. Stiles’ fingers caught in the elastic and he pulled. The dark cotton slid down to uncover Derek’s hard cock. Stiles’ fingers skimmed the soft skin at Derek’s mid-thigh. Derek hissed “yes” when Stiles’ fingers skated upward and reached to grip the base of Derek’s cock.

Derek’s hips bucked up and the head of Derek’s dick brushed the wet head of Stiles’. Stiles moaned and dropped his forehead against Derek’s shoulder. He pressed light kisses to Derek’s hot skin. Stiles thrust his hips forward to move his cock in a long slide against Derek’s.

Derek groaned and dropped his head back then moved his hand to wrap around the base of Stiles’ dick. Stiles yelped and groaned, thrusting into Derek’s fist while continuing to pump Derek in long, slow slides. Derek’s thumb teased at Stiles’ leaking slit before pumping back down.

Derek tugged Stiles’ hips forward so their dicks were side by side. Derek’s wrapped a hand around Stiles’ fist and tugged them in a fast, even rhythm. Stiles bucked his hips and moaned, throwing off the rhythm.

“Come on, Stiles,” Derek said, voice strained and husky, “you’re almost there.”

Stiles pulled his head up from where he had it rested against Derek’s shoulder. Derek gasped at how beautiful he was: face and neck flushed red, brown eyes dilated, lips swollen and wet with not only his own saliva but Derek’s, hair crazed and sticking up from all the fingers run through it, the slight sheen of sweat gathered at his temples. Derek leaned up and pressed their foreheads together, skin sticking slightly.

“Come on, Stiles,” Derek said, meeting dilated brown eyes with dilated green, “you can feel it, can’t you?” Derek brushed his lips across Stiles’ cheekbone and moved back again to meet Stiles’ gaze. “You can feel it coming can’t you?”

Stiles nodded frantically, tongue coming out to wet at his lips. A groan rumbled in Derek’s chest that he could just barely feel the wet swipe of it. “Derek, I-I’m so close,” Stiles moaned as his eyes fluttered shut, “so so close, motherfucker.”

Derek laughed. “Why am,” Stiles tightened his grip on their cocks and Derek groaned and lost his train of thought. “Why am I the motherfucker?”

Stiles’s eyes popped open, “Because, because you’re the one,” Stiles sped up his fist, “who’s basically a gift from the fucking Sex Gods.” Stiles panted and pressed his mouth against Derek’s for a moment of shared breath. Their shared grip on their cocks tightened again and they both let out long groans.

“I’m not,” Derek panted, “the only one.”

Stiles’ mouth quirked up into a smile, “D’you mind telling some of my exes that? I’m sure they’d love to,” Stiles paused to moan and nip at Derek’s bottom lip, “debate that with you?”

Derek quirked an eyebrow, “Are we seriously talking about exes while in the middle of hot breakfast sex?”

Stiles chuckled, “Are you seriously trying to communicate with me via eyebrows while in the middle of hot breakfast sex?”


Stiles smiled, triumphant. Then shifted and whined, “Derek, come on, my knees are starting to hurt.”

“Oh if your knees are starting to hurt, then by all means.” Derek lifted an eyebrow and looked at where their straining erections were leaking in their fists.

“I’d be happy to, but I need more Derek.” Stiles chewed at his lip and let out a muffled groan.

Derek smirked and moved the hand that still gripped Stiles’ hip and shifted so that it brushed against Stiles’ hole. “Like this more?” Derek leaned in, “Or this more?” Derek’s teeth tugged at Stiles’ ear, “You’re so hot like this, did you know? All red and flushed. Pupils dilated, fingers clutching at me, pulling me closer.” Derek pressed hot kisses against the base of Stiles’ ear, “You’re probably leaving marks. In fact, you’ve probably already left marks from your hot mouth.” Stiles moaned and his cock spurted more pre-cum. “D’you like that? Leaving marks on me? Do you like knowing that people will see your marks all over me?”

Stiles nodded frantically against Derek’s cheek, “Almost there. Derek, Derek please.”

“I’m not going to cover these up, Stiles. I’ll wear them proudly. People who watch my videos will see them and know. They’ll know it was you. That you like leaving marks all over me. They’ll know that I’m yours."

Stiles let out a long groan and finally came, Derek’s name on his lips, hips rocking forward and his forehead coming to rest against Derek’s chest. Derek’s rhythm stuttered and he too let out a long groaned, “Stiles” before coming over their joined fists.

They rode out their aftershocks and caught their breath together, motionless while their chests stopped heaving and their skin cooled. Stiles was the first to move, first lifting his head off Derek’s chest, then sliding off Derek’s lap.

He rubbed at his red knees, “Jesus. Remind me next time we eat breakfast here that chair sex like that is not comfortable.”

Derek smirked, “You didn’t seem to mind it at the time.”

“Well, Derek,” Stiles said, hands on his hips, “hindsight is 20/20.”

“It’s really hard to take you seriously when you’re naked and covered in our combined bodily fluids.”

“That,” Stiles pointed out, “was not hot. ‘Bodily fluids’ is not hot.”

“Well what did you want me to call it?” Derek crossed his arms, “semen? Spend? Come? Ejaculate? Seed? Sperm? Love juice?”

Stiles cringed, “Bodily fluids is good.”

Derek smirked, “That’s what I thought.”

“No need to look so smug about it.”

Derek stood up and stretched, “I think there’s every need to be so smug about it.”

“Oh my god!” Stiles stomped his way to Derek’s bathroom to take a shower, “You’re such an asshole. Why am I dating you? Why do I think you’re so hot? How can I think you’re this charming?” There was a slam of the bathroom door and Stiles’ voice was cut off.

Derek stood, frozen at the entrance to the living room, “Dating?”

Derek rushed to the bathroom and threw open the door to reveal Stiles standing under the hot stream of water, eyes closed and clearly luxuriating in the hot water on his skin, “Dating?”

Stiles eyes popped open, “Uh, yeah, dating. I know we haven’t gone on the official, ‘Hi I’m Derek, here’s some flowers, let’s go to a restaurant and awkwardly talk about our interests until we both get comfortable enough to have stimulating conversation which turns out to be amazing and they close the restaurant around us’ first date yet, but I’d like to. Uh, with you.”

Derek’s brows furrowed, “Why do I have to get you flowers?”

“Because you’re the one picking me up.”

Derek walked into the bathroom, shutting the door behind him. “Why do I have to be the one to pick you up?”

“Because you’re the asshole with a car in New York. Think of this as your punishment.”

Derek smiled and opened the shower door, “Then what are you supposed to be my reward for?”

Stiles shook his head, “You have it all wrong, buddy.”

“Do I?” Derek said, leaning in for a kiss.

“Yup!” Stiles pecked Derek on the lips, which was significantly less of a kiss than Derek wanted, “You’re my reward for not being an asshole and owning a car in New York.”

Derek laughed and dropped his hands to Stiles’ hips, “Ahhh, that makes so much more sense.”

Stiles swayed forward, “I’m glad we could clear that up before it got too confusing.”

Derek smiled and brushed their noses together in an Eskimo kiss, “I would hate to confuse my poor little asshole-with-a-car-in-New-York brain.”

“Oh,” said Stiles leaning forward and pressing his lips against Derek’s, “we should do everything possible to prevent confusing your poor little asshole-with-a-car-in-New-York brain.”

“Glad to hear I rank so high on your list of priorities."

Stiles' forearms rested on Derek's shoulders while his fingers danced in the short hair on the nape of his neck. "Oh you should be." 

Derek leaned in and finally got the deep kiss he had been aiming for.




From: Der-Bear

Received at: 8:30 A.M.

So, about that first date thing..... Did you want to do that?


Stiles gasped and ran to Scott's door, "SCOTT, SCOTT, SCOTT!" He pounded on the door. 

There was a muffled thump from inside then a "Whaattttt Stiles?"

"Lemme in, lemme in, lemme in!"

"NO! It's 8:30 in the morning on a Saturday. And Allison is here. And she's naked. Leave us alone."

Stiles pounded on the door again, "ALLISON I HAVE GOSSIP ABOUT ME AND DEREK!!"

There was another muffled thump, a pained cry, and rushing footsteps. Allison threw the door open and dragged Stiles inside by the fabric of his pajama shirt. "Tell me everything." She slammed the door behind him and settled back on the bed, back against the headboard with a disgruntled and put out Scott next to her.

Stiles smiled at his best friend, "Hey there, Scotty. What's rolling?"

Scott frowned, "You are Satan and I hate you."

"Love you too, buddy."

"Okay, okay," said Allison, "enough of you two.  Stiles, tell me about you and Derek."

Stiles settled into Scott's computer chair and crossed his legs, "Well, a couple of days ago when I was at his house--"

"When you guys had really awesome handjob sex as an offering to the Sex Gods as a thank you for your misfortune."


Allison and Stiles turned to Scott, "Well, you don't have to be here for this."

Scott huffed and crossed his arms across his chest, "This is my room if you two haven't noticed."

Allison and Stiles looked at Scott, "But we're using it right now."

"But MY room."

Stiles and Allison looked at each other again and five seconds later, Scott found himself sitting, wrapped in a blanket, on the ground outside his room with Allison saying, "Look, it's your hallway" before slamming the door and locking it behind her.

"Where was I again?" Stiles tapped at his chin.

“You were at his house.”

“Oh right. Anyway. We were showering off all the bodily fluids and we defined the relationship.”

“Yeah, you told me. He asked if you guys were dating and you did your normal word vomit about your first date fantasy. So?”

“Soooooooo,” Stiles shoved his phone in Allison’s face, “he wants to go on a date!”

“Congratulations Stiles. The guy you had marathon sex with all last weekend and introduced you to his sister and made multiple videos with you wants to go on a date with you. How surprising.”

“You sound very unamused.”

“You haven’t even responded yet.”

Stiles gasped and stared at his phone. He looked back up at Allison, “I haven’t. What should I say? I don’t want to scare him off.”

“I’m pretty sure the only way you could scare him off is if you started cooking with frozen green beans.”

Stiles tapped at his phone:

To: Der-Bear

Sent At: 8:50 A.M.

B4 I say yes, would u still love me even if I used frozen green beans?


From: Der-Bear

Received At: 8:52 A.M.

I’m sure I could convince you to see the error of your ways ;)


To: Der-Bear

Sent At: 8:53 A.M.

Ohhhhh do tell.


From: Der-Bear

Received At: 8:55 A.M.

Sorry, it’s a rule of mine to not sext before at least the third date.


To: Der-Bear

Sent At: 8:57 A.M.

Well, I guess this means I have to say yes to the first date.


From: Der-Bear

Received At: 8:59 A.M.

I guess it does.


Stiles dropped his phone and threw his hands up in the air. “We have success Allison!”

Allison cheered. “So what’re you doing?”

Stiles froze. “Um, hold on.”

Allison rolled her eyes and flopped onto her back. “Seriously Stiles? Scott wasn’t the only one looking forward to a little morning nookie.”

Stiles waved at her absent-mindedly, neglecting to look up from his phone screen. “Keep your pants on, you horny bastards.”

Allison laughed and sat back up. “I’m not the one who literally pounced Derek Hale and rode his lap into ecstasy.”

Stiles looked up with narrowed eyes. “You’re just jealous because you know those thighs were made for it.”

Allison stared off into space and said, “Okay, you have a point there.”

Stiles smiled and his voice was smug when he said, “And I’m the only one here who’s gonna get it.”

Allison picked up a pillow and smacked him with it. “Oh stop bragging.”

Stiles smirked and went back to typing out his message.


To: Der-Bear

Sent At: 9:06 A.M.

Sooooo what’s the plan, Stan?


From: Der-Bear

Received At: 9:08 A.M.

  1. My name isn’t Stan. 2. It’s a surprise. 3. I’ll pick you up tomorrow at 1.


To: Der-Bear

Sent At: 9:09 A.M.

Sounds great, lovebug.


From: Der-Bear

Received At: 9:10 A.M.

See you tomorrow, moron.


To: Der-Bear

Sent At: 9:12 A.M.

Awwww your sweet talk is making me want you.


From: Der-Bear

Received At: 9:13 A.M.

I thought we talked about this. Not until after the third date.


To: Der-Bear

Sent At: 9:14 A.M.

Your rules are killing me, Derek.


From: Der-Bear

Received At: 9:15 A.M.

Sucks to suck.


To: Der-Bear

Sent At: 9:16 A.M.

I’ll show you sucking.


To: Der-Bear

Sent At: 9:16 A.M.



To: Der-Bear

Sent At: 9:16 A.M.



To: Der-Bear

Sent At: 9:16 A.M.



To: Der-Bear

Sent At: 9:16 A.M.



To: Der-Bear

Sent At: 9:16 A.M.



To: Der-Bear

Sent At: 9:16 A.M.



From: Der-Bear

Received At: 9:17 A.M.

Well, isn’t that a shame. I was looking forward to that part of the day. ;)


To: Der-Bear

Sent At: 9:18 A.M.



To: Der-Bear

Sent At: 9:18 A.M.



To: Der-Bear

Sent At: 9:18 A.M.



To: Der-Bear

Sent At: 9:18 A.M.



To: Der-Bear

Sent At: 9:18 A.M.

oh my god you’re such an asshole. fine. i’ll see you tomorrow.


To: Der-Bear

Sent At: 9:19 A.M.

where sucking may be on the to-do list if you’re really good.

or really bad. either one really.


To: Der-Bear

Sent At: 9:20 A.M.

P.S. I really want to get my mouth on your dick.


From: Der-Bear

Received At: 9:21 A.M.



To: Der-Bear

Sent At: 9:22 A.M.

What was that saying again? Sucks to suck?


From: Der-Bear

Received At: 9:23 A.M.



From: Der-Bear

Received At: 9:24 A.M.



From: Der-Bear

Received At: 9:25 A.M.



From: Der-Bear

Received At: 9:27 A.M.

Fine. Be that way. I’ll see you tomorrow. Asshole.


Stiles and Allison were still cackling when Scott, remembering that they had a key to the lock on the bedroom, had slammed open the bedroom door. “STILES, GET OUT SO I CAN FUCK MY GIRLFRIEND.” The sheet he had been thrown out with was wrapped around him and tied up to resemble a toga.

Allison and Stiles froze and Allison’s glare zeroed in on Scott. “Stiles should get out because what?”

Scott gulped and scratched at the back of his head. “So I can give my girlfriend mind-blowing orgasms via oral sex?”

Allison nodded primly at his change in activity and gave Stiles a smirk. “I think you should go now Stiles.”

Stiles laughed and climbed off the bed. “I might just leave the apartment. Sounds like there’s about to be a party in here.”

With that, Stiles slipped out of their bedroom and out into the hallway.




The next day, Stile was up and ready for his first date with Derek by 11:45 A.M. His outfit of choice had already been vetoed by Allison, Lydia, and Jackson. Then each of their chosen outfits had been vetoed by him. Then the three had each contributed one piece of clothing to his final outfit. After they had left, he had taken it all off and gone with his first outfit choice instead.

“Okay, Scotty,” Stiles said, twirling in front of his roommate, “What do you think?”

Scott froze where he sat on their ratty couch in his boxers. He had a bowl of cereal cupped in his hands. “Um, you look like normal?”

Stiles smiled indulgently at his best friend. “Thanks man.” He walked over and gave Scott a pat on the head. “Never change man, never change.” Stiles glanced down at Scott’s cereal bowl filled with four different kinds of cereal—Trix, Fruit Loops, Cinnamon Toast Crunch, and Cocoa Puffs. “Except for the whole combination of ridiculously sugared cereal. That shit has got to go.”

“You,” Scott said, pointing at Stiles with his spoon, “don’t get to judge Mr. I eat my Cheerios with Cocoa Puffs and coffee.”

Stiles crossed his arms and shook his head. “Mine at least makes sense. Yours is fucking weird as hell.”

Scott snorted and stood up from his place on the couch. Balancing his bowl of cereal carefully, he walked from the room saying, “I don’t need this kind of negativity in my life.”

Stiles smiled and called after him, “Aw come on, buddy! Don’t be like that.”

Scott walked toward his room and called down the hallway, “Have fun on your date, and remember to wrap it before you tap it!”

“What makes you think we’re gonna have sex, Scott?”

“It’s you, and I hate to say it, but you’re kind of a hoebag.”

“Oh go fuck yourself, Scott.”

Scott’s cackle was cut off by the closing of his bedroom door.

Stiles took Scott’s abandoned spot on the couch, grumbling “asshole” as he went.




Derek’s knock on the door at 12:55 P.M. was quickly followed by Stiles scrambling out of the bathroom where he had decided to take a break from sitting on the couch to pee, “I’ll get it, I’ll get it, I’ll get it!”

Scott’s door whipped open and Stiles’ best friend charged out, still in the boxers he had slept in. “No I gotta give him the shotgun talk.”

“Like hell you are!” Stiles grabbed his jacket while Scott vaulted over the couch. Stiles reached out and grabbed Scott’s wrist, yanking him backward.

“You fucker!” Scott yelled before giving Stiles a shove.

Stiles’ hip slammed into one of the tables next to the couch. Stiles scrambled to grab the lamp before it fell off the table. “Dammit Scott!”

Scott cackled as he slid to the door.

Stiles put on a burst of speed and slammed Scott into the door. “Oh no you don’t, motherfucker.”

Scott groaned against the wood of the door and pushed his body weight against the door to keep Stiles from opening the door.

Stiles grunted and planted both hands against Scott’s side before pushing as hard as he could. Scott let out a yelp and fell sideways closer to the hinges of the door. Stiles heard a small crash as Scott slammed into the coatrack next to the door.

Stiles crowed in victory and opened the door enough to squeeze through. In his rush to get out of the door, he crashed into Derek’s chest. Stiles pulled the door shut behind himself. Stiles panted out a hello and gestured down the building’s hallway. “Shall we?”

Derek’s eyebrow was lifting as he said, “So I guess I’m not being invited in?”

Stiles shook his head and began pulling Derek down the hallway. “No. My roommate is an asshole.” Stiles huffed as he tugged at Derek’s arm more. “Move faster.”

Derek’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “But isn’t Scott your roommate?”

Stiles nodded and tugged harder at Derek. “You’d think with your physique you’d be faster.”

Derek chuckled and stopped in the hallway before crossing his arms against his chest. “And isn’t he your best friend?”

Stiles gave up tugging at Derek’s wrist from the front and moved to push at Derek’s back. “Yeah. Scott equals roommate equals best friend slash brother for life. That’s why we have to get out of here now.”

“Why do we—”

The front door of the apartment flew open and Scott came charging out, still dressed in his boxers. Scott cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted down the hallway, “MAKE GOOD CHOICES AND WRAP IT BEFORE YOU TAP IT, HOEBAG.” Scott smirked at Stiles’ horrified look then added, “AND DEREK, IF YOU BREAK HIS HEART, I REGULARLY NEUTER DOGS AT THE VET’S OFFICE.”

Derek smiled, and saluted Scott. “I hear you, chief.”

Scott gave a satisfied nod and turned to go back into the apartment. He gave a parting wink and called, “Have a nice night, lovebirds.”

Derek turned back to look at Stiles who had his head in his hands. “What’s wrong?”

Stiles, still refusing to look at Derek, pointed a long index finger at the other man. “I hate him and I hate you.”

Derek laughed and threw his arm around Stiles’ shoulders. He nudge him forward, further down the hall. “Oh come on, he does it because he cares about you.”

“I just wish he did it a little less,” Stiles muttered.

Derek leaned down and pressed a kiss against Stiles’ temple. “I think it’s cute.” Derek stopped and realized it sounded like he though Scott was cute. “I mean, your reaction to him. And your relationship with him. It reminds me of mine with my sisters. Which hopefully now you won’t judge me for what my sisters say or do.”

Stiles laughed and nudged Derek with a shoulder. “You sure?”

Derek nodded and paused in the hallway. He tugged at Stiles’ shoulder and turned him so they were facing each other. “Hold on.” Derek ducked and leaned in. “I never gave you a proper hello.” With that, Derek pressed his lips lightly against Stiles’.  “Hello.” At Stiles’ flushed face, Derek smiled and gave him another light peck.

Stiles, breathless and with a flush running up his neck and onto his face, nodded and said, “Hi, Derek.”

They walked further down the hallway toward the staircase that would take them down to the street level. “So, ‘hoebag’ huh?”

Stiles snorted and slapped Derek’s shoulder. “I had a phase in college.” Stiles shoved his hands in his pockets. Derek did not say anything and just waited for Stiles to continue elaborating. “You see, I wasn’t very popular with anyone in high school and so when I went to college and suddenly BAM I had this totally different appeal that I had never thought of.” Stiles pulled his right hand from his pocket and it fluttered in the air as he told his story. “So, when I found out how much people in college liked my… everything, I went a little overboard.” Stiles shoved his hand back in his pocket and looked at the ground. “I mean, I’m not proud of it now. But like,” he shrugged his shoulders,”it happened.”

Derek snorted and nudged Stiles’ shoulder. “You’re not the only one. In high school I was so not cool enough or cute enough and then my parents died. So when I grew into myself and I began working out, I got more attention, and I was still coming to terms with my parents’ death. So I took advantage of it. I fucked around and dropped out of college.” Derek cleared his throat. “We’ve all been there, Stiles. I’m not proud of what I’ve done or the way I got to where I am, but I got here and I’m proud of where I am now.” They were silent for a few moments as they made their way down the last bit of the staircase.

They were walking out of the building when Stiles said, “I’m proud of where I am at this moment too. And I’m glad that whatever path I took brought me here.”

Derek unlocked the passenger door of his Camaro and held it open for Stiles. Stiles slid into the car, and marveled at the leather interior that shined and was smooth and soft. Derek jogged around the front of the car and slid into the driver’s seat. The engine turned over in a graceful purr. Derek turned into the traffic with quiet jazz flowing from the speakers.

Stiles raised an eyebrow at the music. “Jazz?”

Derek nodded and drummed his fingers against the shifter aimlessly. Derek rattled automatically, “It’s good driving music without drowning out and cancelling the point of conversation.”

Stiles stopped the tapping of his fingers on the door handle and cocked a smile at Derek. “Is that something one of your sisters told you?”

Instantly, Derek flushed and stuttered, “No. I just know that.”

Stiles snorted and twisted in his seat to look at the man behind the wheel. “You’re so lying. Laura totally coached you about what music to play.” Stiles tapped the radio. “I highly doubt you even know who this is.”

Derek flushed even darker. “I do so.”

“Fine,” Stiles said, crossing his arms over his chest, “name that artist.”

Derek sputtered and Stiles crowed his victory. “Oh dude I so got you. I bet it was someone embarrassing. Like Fergie. Or Taylor Swift. Or Mandy Moore. Or oh god please tell me it was like Hilary Duff or Maroon 5 or Christina Aguilera.”

Derek sighed and pressed the CD changer. The jazz cut off abruptly and suddenly Alanis Morissette came singing through the speakers.

I want you to know, that I’m happy for you

I wish nothing but the best for you both

An older version of me….

“Dude.” Stiles stopped and stared at Derek, jaw dropped and unbelieving. “Alanis Morissette?”

Derek’s gaze darted over to check Stiles’ expression. “Uh, yeah?”

“Derek, I’m gonna need you to pull over right now.”

Derek paled. “If you don’t like it, we don’t have to listen to it. It’s not that big of a deal. I mean, if you want me to take you home, I totally will.”

Stiles’ hand came down and clutched Derek’s shoulder as Derek pulled the car into a parking lot. Derek put the car into park and drummed his fingers against the steering wheel.

Stiles looked at Derek gravely as he said, “Derek, I want you to know something. My mom loved Alanis Morissette.”

Derek fidgeted with his fingers and looked across at Stiles. “Is that a good thing or a bad thing?”

Stiles slowly undid his seatbelt. “I’m going to be one hundred percent honest with you Derek. You turning on Alanis Morissette was definitely the best possible thing you could have done in that moment.” With that, Stiles lifted himself up and over the gear shift between them and settled himself on Derek’s lap.

Derek’s eyes widened and his hands instinctively came up to clutch at Stiles’ hips. “What is it with you and ending up on my lap?”

Stiles smirked and leaned in and whispered against Derek’s ear, “Your lap is just extremely comfortable.” Stiles gave a little grind and wiggle against Derek’s pelvis.

Derek gasped and craned his head back.

Then Stiles lunged forward and captured Derek’s lips in a hot and messy kiss. Derek moaned and Stiles used the chance to push his tongue into Derek’s mouth. Stiles’ tongue wound up and stroked at Derek’s tongue enticing it to play with him. Derek gasped and his hands shot up to grasp at Stiles’ shoulder blades. Stiles groaned at the fingers digging into his shoulder muscles. Derek’s tongue slipped into Stiles’ mouth as Derek rocked his torso forward. Stiles’ hands pulled at the hair at Derek’s nape and curled body backward. His movement pushed their pelvises and semis against each other. They released each other’s lips to let out long groans about the friction.

“Fuck, Stiles,” Derek panted against Stiles’ mouth.

Stiles grinned and nipped at Derek’s lips. “Not yet, big boy.” Stiles leaned forward and pulled Derek’s lips to meet his again. He bit at Derek’s lower lip and soothed the hurt with his tongue. Derek let out another long groan and Stiles did it again and again and again.

Derek’s hands clawed down Stiles’ simple v-neck shirt and returned to Stiles’ hips. Derek ground Stiles down and bucked his hips to get more friction on his growing erection.

Stiles gasped and rasped against Derek’s ear, “Derek, we have to stop. We have a date to get to.”

Derek growled and bit at the sensitive skin underneath Stiles’ ear.

Stiles whined and craned his neck back, giving Derek more access to his neck. “Derek,” Stiles whined and pulled his neck away from Derek’s lips, “seriously, we have to go.”

Derek stilled Stiles’ hips where they were still bucking and grinding down on Derek’s erection. Derek tucked his nose against Stiles’ collarbone and took long breaths in and out.

Stiles let out a light whimper at the slight rasp of stubble against the sensitive skin exposed by his shirt.

“Fuck, Stiles,” Derek’s voice was a low growl against the Stiles’ collarbone.

“I’m sorry, okay?” Stiles panted against Derek’s temple. “My skin is just very sensitive there.”

Derek’s hips gave a small buck as he said, “That’s not helping Stiles.”

“I know, I know, just,” Stiles took a deep breath, “just give me a moment.” Stiles cleared his throat. “So, uh, should I just talk at you or something?”

Derek’s barely there nod spurred Stiles into his story.

“My mom really liked Alanis Morissette. Like she used to play it in the kitchen while she cooked. She was a great cook, my mom. She made all these family recipes with different spices and god. She taught me to cook, you know? Once she died, I continued cooking meals for my dad and when I went to college I cooked meals for my friends and made desserts for them.”

Derek shifted and leaned back from Stiles. Their erections had both gone down but their skin was still flushed and their lips were slightly swollen. Stiles rested on Derek’s mid-thigh, closer to his knees than he had been before. Derek’s hands rested on Stiles’ upper thighs, thumbs rubbing light circles against his black jeans. Stiles’ fingers played idly with the curling whirls at the nape of Derek’s neck.

“But anyway, she always told me… She’d look me dead in eye, completely serious with ‘Ironic’ blaring through the kitchen, and say, ‘If you are ever with someone and they don’t like Alanis Morissette, you run. But if you find someone who, without any begging or asking or leading them to it, turns on Alanis Morissette, you get a move on and seize the moment.’ She made me promise. She had that kind of a connection with my dad, y’know?”

One of Derek’s hands came up to smooth the hairs at Stiles’ temple. “My dad loved Alanis. Like it was pretty funny how much he loved it. But my mom and the rest of us never really liked her as much as he did. So he didn’t play it that often. We played it for Father’s day and his birthday and date nights. He always got a kick out of it.” A small smile graced Derek’s face. “That’s why I was playing it. It reminds me of him and he always made me feel less stressed and I—”

Derek was cut off when Stiles pressed another kiss to Derek’s lips. Unlike the previous ones there was no tongue, just a simple push and pull of comfort. Their hands did not wander but stayed where they were, acting simply as anchors. When Stiles had pulled back, they nodded at each other in silent understanding the silence and intimacy of the car.

Stiles fumbled his way back over the middle compartment and gear shift. He cursed and swore as his knee slammed into the gear shift and his elbow whacked the dashboard. When he finally had himself situated in the passenger seat, he looked over at Derek. He was trying desperately to hold in the guffawing laughter hiding behind the crinkling corners of Derek’s eyes.

“What?” Stiles asked as Derek started the car and began backing out of the parking spot.

Derek shook his head, “Nothing. Absolutely nothing.”

Stiles crossed his arms and frowned. “You’re laughing at me.”

Derek smiled and reached across the center console to grab at Stiles’ hand, tucked into the crease of his elbow. “No I’m laughing at your ability to flawlessly climb into my lap across the center console to kiss me senseless but when it comes to returning to your side of the car, you turn into the flailer I’ve come to accept you are.”

Despite himself, Stiles laughed and stuck his tongue out at Derek. “Shut up.”

Derek laughed and the two fell into a companionable silence for a few moments as Alanis crooned on about irony. Only once did Stiles break the silence to ask Derek where they were going. Derek responded with a simple shake of his head saying, “It’s a surprise.”




Stiles was not sure what he had been expecting for his first date with Derek but this certainly had not been it. Stiles was standing next to Derek at a small counter designed for two people, surrounded with other couples and randomly assigned singles.

“What,” Stiles hissed, “are we doing here?”

Derek shushed him with a finger pressed to his lips. “We’re learning to cook.”

Stiles batted at Derek’s finger with his right hand and gestured to the teacher at the front of the room. “Why are we learning to cook? We know how to cook. We make our living cooking.”

Derek smirked and crossed his arms. “I know, that’s why this is gonna be fun.”

“Derek, please tell me we’re not going to ruin this poor class for this poor instructor.”

“Of course not. That would be rude.” Stiles was almost placated, but then Derek saw fit to toss a careless wink at him.

Stiles was able to get in one more hissed, “Derek!” before the instructor clapped her hands together and announced to the class that they were ready to start making sweet and savory soufflés.

The teacher first asked that everyone introduce themselves to the others. There were three other couples on dates, one older couple who were trying to do something new every weekend, and two tables that had no connection to the other person at their table. Their instructor was a small, round faced, beach blonde and blue eyed cook. She had on an obnoxiously bright pink apron and a daisy printed chef’s hat.

Their first task was to preheat the oven. The older couple was having trouble finding the buttons and reading the digital readout but Stiles had it done quickly.

“Derek,” he hissed while the instructor was helping the elderly couple, “why are we here? What are we doing? We both know how to make soufflés.”

Derek smiled and waved off Stiles’ concern with a hand. , “I thought this would be fun. Plus, I do this all the time.”

Stiles planted his fists on his hips. “Really. You do this all the time?”

Derek shrugged and began greasing one of the dishes with butter and sprinkling it with sugar as per the instructor’s instructions. “Now, take care of the savory one. It’s supposed to be sprinkled with parmesan instead of sugar.”

Stiles grabbed the dish from Derek angrily. “I know how to fucking make a savory soufflé, Derek.”

Derek held his palms up in defense. “Just making sure. We wouldn’t want our soufflé baking wrong.”

Stiles continued to grumble in Derek’s general direction. Their instructor stopped by for a few moments, checking on their progress with the oven.

“Boys, I’m glad to see you so eager to bake but if you could wait for the rest of the class, that would be great.”

A sheepish smile crossed Derek’s face. “I’m sorry, Miss. He,” he said gesturing to Stiles, “insisted that I add sugar to the dish while he added the cheese to the other one.”

“WHAT?” Stiles squawked shooting a disbelieving, betrayed look at Derek.

The instructor looked indulgently at Stiles and patted his arm. “I know you want to look good in front of such a handsome man, but I assure you, soufflés can be hard. It’s really best to wait for the rest of the group.”

As she walked away Stiles cursed at her back. “Soufflés can be hard,” he pantomimed. “Fuck you. I’ve been making soufflés longer than your hair has been bleach blonde.”

Derek snorted at him. “Well, sounds like someone is a little bitter.”

Stiles whirled on him. “Don’t even think about it, Derek. You totally threw me under the bus.”

“Oh come on,” Derek cajoled, slipping his arms around Stiles’ waist and propping his chin up on Stiles’ shoulder, “it was funny.”

“No,” Stiles said, petulant.

Derek snuffled into Stiles’ neck. “Come on, just a little bit?”

Stiles wiggled and let out a small huff of laughter. “No.”

Derek laughed into Stiles’ ear and squeezed his sides. “It was totally funny.”

Stiles began laughing and squirming out of Derek’s hold. “Okay, okay.” Stiles turned on Derek and wagged a finger in Derek’s face. “As long as you remember that payback is a bitch.”

The instructor clapped her hands together and shocked the two men out of their own little world. The rest of the class had been able to coat their soufflé dishes in butter and sugar and parmesan. “Now,” the little blonde woman said, “we will separate the eggs. The amount you need for each soufflé is given in the recipe book in front of you.” She called attention to herself to demonstrate the process of separating the eggs. Each group was given an egg separator to make it that much easier.

Stiles glanced over to where Derek was separating his eggs with only the shell and his own skill. Stiles grinned and waited until the perfect moment. Derek was on his last egg white, separating it into the bowl with the other five. Then, ever so slightly, Stiles nudged Derek’s elbow and the egg yolk, still nestled in the eggshell fell into the bowl of egg whites.

Derek stared, dumbfounded at the broken yolk seeping out of the eggshell to contaminate the egg whites. Upon closer inspection, bits of the eggshell had seen fit to break away and float in with the egg whites.

Derek turned to look at Stiles. “Did you just…”

Stiles smirked wide. “I’m sure I have no idea what you’re talking about, Derek.”

Derek’s eyes narrowed. “You little—”

Just then their instructor swooped up. “Hello boys! How is everything here?” She glanced down at the two sets of egg yolks and two sets of egg whites. She frowned when she saw Derek’s. “Did you have a little mishap, Derek?”

Derek gritted his teeth and nodded. “Yes, Marjorie.”

Marjorie leaned forward and patted Derek’s broad shoulder. “Well, just try it again, dear. Separating eggs can be a tricky thing to master.” When she glanced over at Stiles’ bowl of egg whites, she positively cooed her pleasure. “Oh Stiles! These are so wonderfully separated! You must have a natural talent for cooking!” She fawned over his egg whites for a few moments longer before proceeding onto the next group.

Stiles poked at Derek’s side with an elbow and said, “Hear that, Derek? I have natural talent!” Then he snickered at Derek’s disastrous egg whites.

“Oh,” Derek said, leaning into Stiles’ personal space and placing a small nip on Stiles’ earlobe, “it is on.”

From that point on, the cooking class devolved into Stiles and Derek purposely messing each other up. Derek would goose Stiles while he was trying to pour or measure or stir. And Stiles would pull on Derek’s hair, or smack Derek’s ass during different moments. Stiles would suck spilled ingredients off his finger and moan around the digit. Then Derek would “drop” something and crawl on the ground and wind up between Stiles’ legs, or he would cup Stiles’ dick through his jeans. Stiles added extra salt to the whipped egg whites while Derek was distracted helping the group behind them. While Derek added a full extra tablespoon of dry mustard to Stiles’ soufflé. It began to escalate and eventually ended with Stiles upending two cups of flour over Derek’s head and Derek throwing Stiles’ block of cheese at the instructor while her back was turned, then blaming Stiles for it.

By the time the instructor heard the clatter of one of their bowls strike the ground and spill ingredients all over the floor, she was sick and tired of the two men utterly destroying her cooking class.

Face red, voice shrill and shrieking, finger pointing, foot stamping, with curses abound, Marjorie the cooking instructor forcibly kicked them out of the kitchen.

“So,” Stiles said, once outside the building with strict instructions to never sign up for another one of Marjorie’s classes again, “that was a fun first date.”

Stiles turned to look at flour covered Derek. His dark gray Henley was dusted with the fine white powder and his was absolutely covered in the stuff. Stiles, however, had cocoa powder falling intermittently from his hair as Derek had grabbed a small handful and rubbed it against Stiles’ scalp early on in the tomfoolery.

Derek’s dumbfounded expression nearly knocked Stiles on his ass.

Derek looked gutted. “I’ve never been kicked out of a cooking class before.”

Stiles guffawed and began to laugh. “I’m sorry, but that was amazing. Did you see how red she got when I poured the flour in your hair?”

Derek turned to look at Stiles. Derek’s mouth was still opened in his dumbfounded expression. “But I’ve never been kicked out of a cooking class before.”

Stiles nudged him with an elbow. “Yeah, but it was fun right?”

Derek closed his mouth and then began to smile. “I’ve never been kicked out of a cooking class before, but I’ve also never had as much fun during a cooking class before.”  He ran a hand through his hair and smiled sheepishly as he saw the amount of flour that showered down onto his shoulders. “I had seriously an amazing time with you today, Stiles.”

Stiles smiled, long and slow. Then he sidled up to Derek’s front and ran his fingers through the soft hair at the nape of Derek’s neck. “Who says it has to end here?”

Derek’s pupils grew and a smirk blossomed across his face. “Oh, I’m thinking we could go back to my place and shower all this stuff off.”

Stiles pressed his lips against Derek’s in a chaste preview of potential futures. “I think that sounds like a great idea, Derek.”

Derek smiled and pulled a laughing Stiles in the direction of the Camaro.

The ride to Derek’s apartment was rather uneventful when compared to the drive to the couple cooking lessons. And though Derek’s speed was not dangerous or daring by any stretch of the means, it was also much faster than the drive to the lessons.

It, of course, did not feel faster or shorter to either of the men in the car. In fact, Stiles felt like he was slowly dying. All the teasing and harassing and looks back and forth were reaching a boiling point in Stiles’ body. When combined with the heavy make-out action in the Camaro on the way to their date, the sexual tension from the date was near fatal. But both Stiles and Derek’s dicks were stuck at semi-hard because of the complete lack of any physical stimulation or friction. And it was slowly driving Stiles mad.

At stoplights, Stiles ground his palm against the slight bulge in his pants. But then Derek growled and pulled Stiles’ wrist away from the zipper of his jeans.

“If I have to sit here without touching myself,” Derek said, looking pointedly at the slight bulge in his own pants, “then so do you.”

Stiles humphed and slumped down in his seat. “Well then would you drive faster?”

Derek gritted his teeth and stared at the red light keeping them from continuing toward Derek’s apartment. “I’m trying, asshole. It’s not like I can control the traffic lights.”

Stiles groaned and slammed his head against his headrest. “Oh my god. I’m dying.”

Derek rolled his eyes and pressed the gas as the light changed to green. “It’s not like you’re completely hard and leaking and this is edge play. You have a semi-hard dick. Stop being such a drama queen.”

Stiles glared at Derek and slowly lower the zipper of his pants. “Drama queen? I’ll show you a fucking drama queen.” With that, Stiles slid a hand into his opened jeans and let out a long, deep groan. “Oh yeah, that’s the stuff.”

Stiles’ hips jerked up and behind the wheel, Derek cursed and pressed harder on the gas pedal. Derek’s dick had begun getting harder than it had been previously and it was all Stiles’ fault.

“Stiles, you’re such an asshole.”

Stiles looked over and said, “Like I give a fuck now. I’m literally playing with my dick in Derek Hale’s Camaro after having the best date of my life. This literally couldn’t get any better.”

Derek’s grip on the steering wheel tightened as he chanced a glance at Stiles. The brunettes’ pale skin was flushed a light red. The flush ran up from somewhere on his chest up past his neck. The apples of his cheeks were blooms of red with his beauty marks and moles standing front and center. He was biting down on his lip to keep from making any too pornographic sounds. But what drew Derek’s gaze the most was the hand slowly moving and teasing the fully erect cock that was still sheltered in Stiles’ boxer briefs.

By the time they arrived at Derek’s apartment, Stiles’ lips were bite swollen and he had given up trying to hold in any sounds. Whimpering at the loss of his palm on his cock, Stiles zipped up his jeans and rushed out of the car. Derek pulled Stiles along, before practically picking him up and throwing him into the elevator.

In no time at all, Derek had Stiles’ back up against the shined wall of the elevator. Derek’s teeth and tongue worked at Stiles’ neck as Stiles panted and whined his pleasure at the attention.

“So,” Stiles said, in a breathless attempt to at least try to make small talk, “underground parking for your entire building. That’s a sweet deal.”

Derek unlatched his mouth from Stiles’ neck to growl a “Shut up” then dipped back down and continued lavishing attention on Stiles’ pale skin.

Stiles let out a loud, long moan and shifted his legs to wrap around Derek’s hips. That small exchange was enough small talk for the moment.

Derek cupped Stiles’ ass in his palms and settled him more securely on the bannister going around the inside of the elevator. Stiles moaned and dug his fingers into the muscles of Derek’s back. Up the elevator traveled, until it finally dinged to let them out on Derek’s floor.

Derek pulled back from Stiles’ mouth, dropped his legs, and pulled Stiles by the wrist out of the elevator. Stiles, kiss swollen, hair mussed, and still sprinkling cocoa powder, fumbled behind Derek. At his apartment door, Derek fiddled with the lock and let out a “fucking finally” when the key slid into the lock and the deadbolt unlocked.

Derek slammed the door open and pulled Stiles through the doorway. Immediately, Derek had Stiles up against the wall next to the door.

Initially, there was space between the two of them, with Stiles’ back plastered to the wall and Derek leveraging himself with two hands planted on either side of Stiles’ face. Slowly and steadily, the distance closed between their bodies. Whether it was because Derek was sinking slowly into Stiles’ heat or because Stiles was pulling Derek in closer and closer by tugging at the two hands fisted in Derek’s shirt.

Their moans and groans were sinking and wrapping around each other, and their tongues delved deeper and harder, wetter and chasing a new flavor, a new nuance every time. Their fully erect cocks brushed against each other in their jean confines and the friction was simultaneously delicious and torturous.

One of Derek’s hands shifted to fist itself in Stiles’ hair while the other one slid down to palm at Stiles’ erection.

At the friction of Derek’s rubbing palm, Stiles gasped, whimpered, whined, and moaned a long, “Derek.”

Derek smirked against Stiles’ mouth and slowly drew down the zipper of Stiles’ jeans. Once the jeans had been fully unzipped, Stiles let out a long sigh of relief. Then there was a long, high whine as Derek’s hand wrapped around Stiles’ erection.

Stiles’ head slammed back against the wall. “Oh my god, Derek. Yes, yes, yes please. Ohmygod, ohmygod, ohmygod. Pleasepleaseplease.”

Derek pressed his face against the reddened skin of Stiles’ neck and began nipping and biting at the various sensitive spots again. When Derek withdrew his hand from Stiles’ hard cock, Stiles let out a long low whine. But let out another moan and groan of pleasure when Derek pushed down Stiles’ boxer briefs and returned his grip to Stiles’ hard cock.

Derek chuckled against Stiles skin and continued a biting path from the left side of Stiles’ neck to the right side of his neck. He left long kisses and bites to the right then moved down to the center, pausing to lick and lap at the bobbing Adam’s Apple. Stiles’ head was tipped back in pure ecstasy.

Derek smirked and down to the small indentation in the middle of Stiles’ collarbone. He licked his way around the rim and pressed a kiss to the middle. Then, in one smooth movement, Derek ran his hands up under Stiles’ shirt and pulled it off. Flinging it somewhere behind himself, Derek returned his attention to Stiles’ revealed chest.

First he ran a finger over one of Stiles’ nipples before teasing it with his teeth and tongue. There was a tug at his hair, so Derek looked up from where he was teasing Stiles’ nipple to see Stiles, flushed a bright red with his lips more swollen and red than Derek could have imagined.

“First of all,” Stiles said, scrabbling at the bottom hem of Derek’s shirt, “we need to get you at least as naked as me. Second of all, if you want this to be another handjob, which I’m totally fine with, keep doing what you’re doing. But if you were interested on doing something else, you’re gonna have to do it now.” Stiles tugged at Derek’s hair again to bring them eye to eye. “If you keep teasing me like this, I’m gonna cum and pass out on you.”

Derek smirked and reached over his head to pull his shirt off his body. With a simple flick of his fingers, Derek’s jeans were unbuttoned, unzipped, and pushed around his ankles. “Good enough?” Derek asked with eyebrows raised.

Stiles, gaze focused on Derek’s uncovered cock, nodded absently. “Yup. Exactly what I wanted.”

Derek, all pleased predator, smiled. “Good.” Then, he dropped to his knees in front of Stiles.

Derek’s hand grabbed the base of Stiles’ cock and stroked up once before licking a bold streak across the leaking tip.

Stiles groaned and pushed his fingers in Derek’s hair. He was careful not to tug or force Derek’s head anywhere but let them rest in the still flour-y strands of thick black hair.

Derek looked up at Stiles and smirked. Stiles let out another long moan at the sight of that smirk hovering just above the tip of his leaking erection. Then Derek wrapped his mouth around the entire head of Stiles’ cock. Stiles pulled one hand from Derek’s hand to slam the palm against the wall behind him.

“Derek,” Stiles’ moan was long and drawn out. Almost in pain.

In response, Derek hollowed his cheeks around the head of Stiles’ cock and began to suck more in. He stroked down with the hand wrapped around Stiles’ shaft. Halfway down the shaft, Derek moaned around Stiles’ cock. Stiles’ palm slapped the wall again. Derek retreated back to the head and sucked hard around the tip. He moaned at the salty pre-cum leaking from the tip. He stroked his hand back up and pulled off completely. His thumb continued to stroke over the leaking head, playing with the pre-cum continually leaking from it.

“Stiles,” Derek called out, “Stiles, look at me.”

Stiles’ head tipped forward and his eyes fluttered open. He made eye contact with Derek on his knees, completely naked. Derek had one hand wrapped around Stiles’ cock with swollen lips and a small bead of pre-cum clinging to his bottom lip. Stiles groaned when he saw Derek’s other hand working his own cock.

“Fuck, Derek,” Stiles moaned, bringing his hands back to Derek’s hair and guiding him back to Stiles’ cock. “You like this, don’t you?” Derek nodded and took Stiles’ cock back into his mouth. At the feeling of the hot, heavy cock in his mouth, his eyes fluttered shut.

“Oh god, you look so good like this.”

Derek moaned around Stiles’ cock and stroked his own faster.

“Look at you, on your knees in front of me.” Stiles hissed through his teeth as Derek took Stiles’ cock in even deeper. “Neither of us have our pants off completely. So eager for it, aren’t you?” Derek moaned again and backed off Stiles’ cock a little before going back down. Further, deeper, hotter, wetter. Stiles moaned and his hips bucked forward a little. Derek gagged a little and backed off before making his way back down Stiles’ cock.

“Fuck, Derek,” Stiles ran his hands through Derek’s hair, feeling the soft strands slide between his fingers. “Look at me, Derek. Let me see those pretty eyes of yours.”

Derek’s light green-gray eyes fluttered open. Stiles gasped at the light sheen of tears in those beautiful eyes. Derek pulled all the way off  Stiles’ cock and pinned Stiles’ hips with both hands.

He took a deep breath, glanced up at Stiles and took Stiles’ cock back in his mouth. Derek lifted one hand from Stiles’ hips to give himself some desperately needed friction, and moved so his forearm kept Stiles’ hips pinned against the wall. Stiles let out low gurgles and moans as Derek began to deep throat Stiles’ cock.

“Ohmygod, Derekderekderekderekderek.” Stiles pounded the wall with his fist and let out a long groan. “Derek, I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna cum. Holy shitfuckballs I’m gonna cum.”

Derek glanced up at Stiles, mouth wrapped around the base of Stiles’ cock, nose nestled against the dark brown hairs at Stiles’ groin, and hummed.

Then everything happened at once. Too many things happened at once for Derek to truly ever understand what had happened. But Stiles had begun to cum down his throat, Derek had also begun to reach his orgasm. As Stiles began cumming down Derek’s throat, and as Derek began cumming all over his hand, the door next to them slammed open as Cora stormed in.

Stiles, frightened and surprised by the door next to them flying open so suddenly, screamed and fell over. Cora, upon seeing her brother naked on his knees in front of Stiles, with a dick, still leaking cum, in his mouth, immediately covered her eyes and screamed about being blinded. Derek, still on his knees was caught completely off balance by not only seeing his sister so unexpectedly but also his lover falling on top of him, fell backward and scrabbled at the nightstand, knocking over a stack of cooking magazines.

As quickly as he could, Derek shot to his feet and pulled his boxer briefs over his slowly softening dick. Stiles groaned from where he had landed, facedown on the hardwood floor. Cora was still screaming and babbling into her hands.


“WHY THE FUCK DIDN’T YOU KNOCK, CORA?!?” Derek was livid and completely sick and tired of his sisters waltzing into his apartment whenever they wanted.

To Derek’s complete and utter horror, he heard pounding footsteps and Laura’s worried voice calling, “Cora?! Why are you screaming? What’s wrong?”

Laura skidded in through the open door. Stiles, thankfully, had been able to squirm back into his boxer briefs and thus had at least something covering his spent cock. He had also gotten into a standing position and decided that lounging nonchalantly against the wall was the way to go.

Derek rubbed at his forehead with his fingertips. “Why are you both here?”

Laura shrugged. “We wanted to see how your date went.” She glanced at where Stiles was standing, still flushed, covered in bruises, kiss swollen lips, and with thoroughly mussed hair. “Although based on this happy little image and that,” she pointed at the collection of Derek’s cum on the floor, “I would say the date went pretty well.”

Cora meanwhile, was still bemoaning the loss of her eyesight.

Laura snorted and grabbed her sister’s shoulders and steered her out of the apartment. “I think this serves as a lesson that you always knock on Derek’s door when he has been out on a date.” She leaned to say, “Brother dearest is a slutbag. But we love him anyway.” Laura sighed and continued, “I can’t tell you how many times I’ve walked in on the same thing. It’s just a fact of life. Baby brother can’t hold out until the bedroom and nearly always has sex with his dates against a wall or a door or a couch.”

Cora looked horrified. “I’m never touching another piece of furniture in his apartment ever again.”

Derek crossed his arms and nodded. “And hopefully you’ll knock next time.”

Cora nodded enthusiastically. “I’ll wait until you open the door for me.”

With that promise for the future secured, Laura gave a small salute and steered the youngest Hale out of Derek’s apartment. “Let’s leave these two lovebirds to round two, shall we?” Glancing back one more time, Laura raised an eyebrow at the pants around Derek’s ankles and the shoes he was still wearing. “You couldn’t even take your pants off all the way, Derrie? Way to be the ultimate slutbag today.”

Derek rolled his eyes and stepped forward to shut the door in her face. “Oh don’t even front with me, Laura. You wore crotchless panties with a skirt on a regular basis to make one night stands easier.”

Laura gasped and clutched at her heart. “Is nothing sacred between siblings?”

As dry as he could Derek said, “No.” And slammed the door in her face.

Suddenly, Derek dreaded turning to see Stiles’ reaction to the pandemonium caused by his siblings.

Surprisingly, Stiles was not awkwardly standing around waiting to turn tail and run. Instead, he was tapping out what looked like a text message.

Derek sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “Are you texting someone for a ride? Because I totally understand if you don’t want to be with me anymore because my sisters are kind of crazy and my friends aren’t any better and now it’s awkward and—”

Stiles slipped his phone into his pocket and strode forward before pressing a chaste kiss to Derek’s lips. “Actually, I was just texting Scott that you love Alanis Morissette and, without knowing about my Alanis rule chose to play her music. That you family slash friends are just as crazy and boundary crossing as mind. And that your blowjobs are hot as fuck. And not to expect me home tonight because I found the slutbag to my hoebag.” Stiles leaned down and pulled off his shoes, then his pants. “Now, I’m gonna go grab a shower, wanna join me?”

Derek stared after Stiles as he waltzed his way to Derek’s shower. A few moments later, Derek’s phone buzzed.


From: Laura the Devil

Received At: 3:40 P.M.

sorry if cora and i fucked up your relationship. if he dumps you over this we can key his car together and get drunk off of shitty alcohol.


To: Laura the Devil

Sent At: 3:41 P.M.

Nah, everything is fine. We’re gonna take a shower then probably get something to eat or head to bed. He’s staying the night so stay away in the morning too.


From: Laura the Devil

Received At: 3:42 P.M.

Wooowwwwwwww he sounds like a keeper. I like this one.


To: Laura the Devil

Sent At: 3:42 P.M.

Me too, Laur. Me too.


Derek heard footsteps coming from the bathroom and looked up to see a fully nude Stiles, glistening with water, in the doorway.

Stiles propped his hands on his hips and tapped his foot impatiently. “Are you coming to shower with me or what? I mean, you don’t have to but I would like to know if I should get on with the good stuff without you or what.”

Derek threw his phone onto the couch and pulled off his shoes, then pants and finally boxer briefs.

“Sorry, I’m coming. I just had to answer Laura really quick.” Derek walked forward and wrapped his arms around Stiles’ torso. He sighed at the press of bare skin against bare skin.

Stiles twined his fingers into the hair at Derek’s neck. “What’d she say?”

Derek shrugged and pressed a light kiss to Stiles’ nose. “She wanted to know if she and Cora ruined our relationship.”

Stiles raised an eyebrow and leaned back a little. “And did they?"

Derek shook his head and stuck his nose against the crook of Stiles’ neck. “Of course not. I’m crazy about you.”

Stiles let out a whoosh of air and smiled at him. “Oh good. I was worried for a moment there.”

Derek scoffed and slowly started walking Stiles back toward the bathroom. “Nerd.”

Stiles laughed at Derek and nipped his shoulder. “Jerk.”



“Cocoa Head.”

“Flour Face.”

Derek had to admit defeat at that one because he began laughing too hard to think of anything else. Stiles, as he was wont to do, crowed out his victory over Derek.

They slid into the shower together and luxuriated in the hot water pouring over their bodies. The shower was slow and sensual. There were, of course, kisses and giggles and laughter and cursing and fumbling because it was the two of them and it would not have been them if it was completely perfect.

And after their shower, they toweled each other off, and Stiles borrowed a pair of Derek’s boxer briefs before sliding into Derek’s bed with him.

And just before they both slid into sleep, Stiles asked, muffled against the fabric of his pillow, “Derek, I’m really glad I decided, on a whim, to start trying to cook your recipes.”

Derek turned and regarded the other man with soft, loving eyes. “And I’’m glad I broke my one rule and decided to let someone else in my kitchen.”

And with that, they drifted into a dreamless sleep.

Well, not completely dreamless as Stiles’ hard on upon waking up would suggest, but eh, it was close enough.