It didn’t happen everyday or all the time. It was not even the go to reaction of licking wounds after one of their fights with the villains. They didn’t talk about it, they never let it share a known presence between them, they didn’t name it anything. But it was a thing that happened and that they let happen sometimes and it would leave Derek feeling light and content for days. Stiles would smile bigger too, catching Derek’s eyes as much as he can to grin onto his face and maybe a few more kisses than usual. So, no it was not exactly their thing but it was a thing they would sometimes do.
There was no trigger leading to it, no plans or saved dates for the occasions, they just went with how things went, and maybe one day they will sit their asses down before the laptop, learn all the correct terms in each others presence, and learn how to do more in safe environments. Maybe.
Today, both are in Derek’s loft in his bedroom. He got a huge bed fitted in after they started dating, much to the amusement of their friends and countless eyerolls at their ‘obvious’ stupidity in stalling for so long. At first, Derek could hardly bear to look at his pack, shy and partly mortified at the fact that they could smell it, his happiness, his lust and love for Stiles and that Stiles let out the same in starburst of fragrance that Derek had come to recognize as uniquely his, and how they must have been laughing at Derek’ s besotted state. Strangely, they didn’t though.
No, they just gave the couple soft smiles that crinkled their eyes and told of fondness not only for Stiles, but, surprise, surprise, Derek too. Hell even the sheriff gave his blessing, without the apparent threat of any arms being fired in the vicinity. So, at first there were only kisses and hugs and cuddling and making love super quite with overwhelmed idiots and then they got used to it. Those smiles and blatant approval from the pack and pack adjacent people like Melissa and John started to seem like the normal thing then, their being together a correct and right and the best thing in the world.
Right now though, right now Derek lay on his belly on the bed, Stiles covering half of him, and everything felt like heaven and suffused with happiness. Stiles was roaming his hands over any bits of bare skin of Derek he could reach. His hands was warm enough to register even through the perpetual too hot of Derek’s body, the blood rushing languidly in his veins as Stiles lay down soft close mouthed kisses all over Derek, humming in contentment and rubbing his face onto him every now and then.
It was a strange thing to Derek that Stiles, the Stiles who could hardly stay still for any long duration of time, could hold still to do this to Derek. That he will be so easily able to reduce him into a mess of warm limbs and wide smiles and maybe some drool, content beyond belief and not the heavy weight of his persistent guilt that never seems to lessen on the bad days. The voices that accuse and point out how he has no right to feel any happiness when he ended up basically killing his whole family.
Within the circle of Stiles arms though, the thoughts stay away and Stiles lavishes, pours out his love and heart and fondness all over Derek till he is shinning in it. Stiles takes Derek’s hand and kisses his palm and then his forearm, his hand, his shoulder, mouthing words of acceptance and forgiveness and want and true love against his quivering skin and Derek feels like he is being baptized. Made whole and clean and pure again because Stiles can still glimpse him so, beneath mountain of the ashes from the fire and the river of blood, Stiles can still see that part of him.
Stiles worships each and every part of Derek, his hands and mouth and words weaving around him like a protective cloak, cherishing him in a way that he is unable to comprehend even now and all that Derek can do is lie on the bed and take it all. Gets pleased at how intense Stiles gets like this, his eyes wide and full of wonder as he looks at Derek and Derek can feel, he can actually feel that Stiles is not just looking and admiring his body, no, he is looking in and he is seeing Derek and he still wants that Derek. This knowledge always feels like a punch to his heart, it feels like a benediction and Derek’s eyes sometimes fill with slow drops of tears that Stiles wipes away with soft kisses to his eyelids.
Stiles will have his fill only after he is done touching and kissing all of Derek and they don’t have sex after that, both feeling too tired after as if they had done something many times energetic except lie in bed. No, they will crawl to each other, try to bracket the other’s body with their own as well as they can and then hold onto the other, with light fingers and warm hands that still carry the wonder and happiness of being together. And then, and then Stiles would start rubbing his scalp, his blunt human fingernails that he had either bitten to the quick or just cut them that short, just run his fingers in lazy arcs with one hand, the other nuzzling into his jaw, rubbing his scruff there with the other.
Stiles’ lips would be swollen by then even though he hadn’t kissed Derek’s lick much. They would be swollen and tender looking and Stiles would keep kissing him even then, tasting his contentment and they would sleep like that, for hours, just holding each other and lips parted scantly, maybe still in the midst of kissing.
And every time Derek would wake up after, he would look at Stiles, just look and kiss the corner of Stiles’ sleeping lips and feel like the luckiest person on the earth, no contest. How can he not, when he got Stiles.