[Speedos: or what we Dutch people like to call ‘ball squeezers’. Those things we only like on a man if the guy is crazy hot, because we’re secretly all shameless sluts like Erica.]
It’s the beginning of June and the weather is so, so hot. It’s not even funny anymore. It’s even less funny when you have to spend your days in lecture halls and classrooms that tend to feel more like ovens. For the past few days, everything has been sweaty, sticky and gross and Stiles has had it. There’s just no way he’s putting himself through that again today.
A quick glance to the side reveals that the other side of the bed is empty, and Stiles has a feeling it has been cold for a while, too. He rolls his eyes fondly and turns around on the mattress so he can reach the bedside table, and subsequently his phone.
He opens a new text to Erica, because he knows that from their group of friends, she is the one most likely to still be in bed as well. There’s a chance Scott and Allison are still in bed as well, but if they are, then Stiles knows why and he isn’t about to interrupt their . . . business.
To Erica: wanna ditch class today and hang at the pool instead?
Never one to disappoint him, she barely takes a minute to answer.
From Erica: omg yes! Meet at the pool at 10?
To Erica: perfect, see u there!
He drags himself out of bed and slowly goes through his morning routine. It’s been so long since he’s had the time to enjoy a simple shower. College is great, don’t get him wrong, but he would have appreciated it if someone would have warned him about the lack of sleep and spare time.
Since he has time this morning, he decides to cook himself a good breakfast for once. ‘Good’ being bacon and French toast. He leaves the apartment at 9.30 and drives to the pool to meet up with Erica.
She arrives a couple of minutes after him and greets him with a friendly hug, which doesn’t last that long because it’s already ridiculously hot outside.
“I fucking love your brain and its good ideas,” she tells him. “Seriously, this may just be the best idea you’ve ever had.”
He snorts and heads towards the building with an amused shake of his head. He’s so thankful that this is an indoor pool. He isn’t interested in getting a sunburn from hell, thank you very much. They head inside and part ways briefly at the changing stalls. Soon later they’ve both changed into their swimming attire and are walking to the water side-by-side.
There’s three pools they can choose from; a wading pool for the young kids to play in (which obviously isn’t an option for them), a pool filled with warm water for everyone to enjoy, and one with cold water where you can swim laps for exercise. There’s also a bunch of hot tubs, which Erica immediately drags him off to.
Since it’s still early, they have the tub for themselves. They get seated with pleased sighs.
“Awesome,” Stiles sighs, tilting his head back in bliss. Erica hums in agreement. The hot tubs are stationed on some kind of plateau, overlooking the entertainment pool and the lap pool behind it. There’s a bunch of people around and it’s relaxing to watch. They spend some time relaxing like that, idly talking about random stuff. Stiles basks in the serene environment surrounding them, until Erica breaks it in that typical way of hers.
“Oh. My. God.”
And Stiles knows that tone, okay? This doesn’t bode well. Part of him is afraid to ask, but he’s too curious for his own good and does it anyway.
Erica just flaps her hands around ineloquently, then proceeds to smack his arm with them. “Oh my God, what?!” She just lets out a high-pitched sound and grips his chin between her fingers, steering his head in the right direction and oh – okay, yeah that sight would leave anyone speechless.
“God, that man is just sinful,” she breathes. ‘That man’ being their drop-dead-gorgeous literature professor, Dr Hale and Stiles’ boyfriend, hauling himself out of the pool like he’s in the middle of an Armani commercial.
“Oh fuck me sideways,” he mutters, voice sounding strangled. Because he might have seen the man with barely any clothes on before – hell, he’s seen him naked countless times – the sight of the man in speedos definitely doesn’t leave him unaffected.
“Hm yeah, keep talking dirty to me, baby,” Erica whispers.
He wisely chooses to ignore that. Anyway, Stiles is familiar with the sight of Derek’s very well-endowed dick. And Erica knows that, so this is going to end very, very badly.
“Oh my God, what is he even doing here?!” he yelps before he can stop himself. He catches Erica licking her lips, ogling the man shamelessly.
“For the love of god Erica, would you stop watching?! Do I need to remind you he’s taken?”
Taken by me, his mind supplies. But he doesn’t want to seem possessive, so.
“I can’t. It’s the red stain all over again.” She hums thoughtfully. Stiles doesn’t like the sound of it. “Maybe we should go over there and say hi to him.”
“Oh my God, no we shouldn’t!” he yells, scowling when Erica just giggles and continues to undress the man with her eyes. “Seriously Erica, cut it out. Don’t you have your own Hale to make sex-eyes at?”
She smirks. “Trust me, Laura and I make a lot of sex-eyes at each other. Doesn’t mean I can’t appreciate a nice view.”
Stiles can’t blame her, but screw that. Derek is his, dammit. He really doesn’t like other people objectifying him like that. And it’s ‘other people’, because Erica is far from the only one who seems to be unable to take her eyes off of him. Or part of him. Seriously, what the hell was the guy thinking wearing something like that?
“I’m serious Erica, stop it. Or I’ll go over there and make Derek leave myself.”
“Really, you’d ruin his swimming exercise like that?”
“If that means you’ll stop objectifying my boyfriend, then yes!”
She gets a dangerous grin on her face. Before Stiles knows it she’s out of the water and sashaying towards the lap pool, showing off her curves like nobody’s business. Seriously, even Stiles isn’t unaffected.
He flails and gets out of the water as well, yelling at Erica to stop. “Erica, don’t!”
He hears her answering evil cackle and knows he has to take drastic measures. He spots Derek in the middle of a lap in the third lane of the pool, doing the butterfly stroke. Stiles quickly makes his way over to that side of the pool so he can jump into the same lane. He dives in and swims halfway, impatiently waiting for Derek to reach him. The guy doesn’t even notice him until he almost collides with Stiles’ body. His head surfaces from the water with a scowl already in place behind his ridiculous (yet somehow still sexy, damn it) swimming goggles. The scowl turns into a frown when he must realize it’s Stiles, and he takes off the goggles in confusion.
“Stiles? What are you doing here?”
“What am I doing here?” he hisses. “I should be asking you that!”
“I’m always free on Fridays. You on the other hand, have classes.”
Very true, but also very not the point right now.
“Since when do you even swim instead of going to the gym?” he continues. “More importantly, why do you swim in a pair of goddamn speedos, Derek? Are you trying to kill me?”
“Regular swimming shorts get too heavy. They slow me down,” Derek says, like that’s a perfectly reasonable explanation.
“They slow me down,” Stiles parrots mockingly, which yeah, totally childish but he can’t help it okay? Derek is seriously killing him with all his sexiness right now. His brain is having a total meltdown. And he still doesn’t like the fact that other people can see him practically naked like this. Sue him.
Derek, for his part, looks very unamused. “You seriously want to argue with me about speedos?”
“No,” he huffs. “What I want is to get my hands on those speedos. Or more specifically, to take them the fuck off.”
Derek shrugs. “Yeah, as long as we can find a somewhat private place to do it.”
“Oh my God,” he breathes. “You kinky motherfucker.”
Derek snorts. “You wanna do this or not?”
“Fuck yes. All the yes,” he nods quickly.
“What about Erica?”
“Erica can suck it.” Derek chokes on air and Stiles’ face flushes. “Not like that!”
He rolls his eyes and drags his boyfriend out of the water, communicating with one look at Erica that he’ll be back soon. Her face sours, clearly upset that he’s taking her eye-candy away from her, and probably mentally giving him the finger (since there are kids around she refrains from doing it properly). Stiles cackles and leads his man to the changing stalls. He picks one that’s a bit out of the way and pushes Derek inside, shutting the door behind them.
Derek doesn’t waste any time in crowding him against it and meets him in a downright filthy kiss.
Stiles melts against him for a long moment, but finally pushes the man away a little so he can scowl at the offending piece of clothing the man is wearing.
“God, I really hate those things,” he groans.
Derek frowns. “Really?”
“Well, not personally. I just don’t like the way they cause everyone to look at you.”
The older man grins and starts trailing kisses along the side of Stiles’ throat. “Getting territorial on me, are we?”
“Shut up, asshole,” he huffs, lightly slapping the man’s ass.
Derek chuckles. “Don’t worry, I don’t mind.”
“Good to know,” he grins. He grabs two handfuls of Derek’s incredible ass and goes back to kissing his boyfriend senseless. They soon get annoyed with the wet clothes sticking to them, so they push them off of each other and just like that they’re both gloriously naked. There’s a lot more to Derek than just his looks and big dick, but that doesn’t stop Stiles from feeling the desire rush through his body whenever he has the privilege of seeing the man like this.
They both have to stifle their moans when Derek grinds his hips against Stiles’, and he lets his head fall back against the door with a thump. Derek continues assaulting his throat with kisses until he is close enough to Stiles’ ear that he can whisper into it.
“Think you can stay quiet?”
He huffs out a laugh. “When can I ever?”
“Right,” Derek chuckles. “Never mind.”
They go back to kissing each other and Stiles thinks it’s a pretty good method to keep him quiet. For now, at least. At least the noise of the pool and the showers will drown theirs out somewhat. Well, he hopes.
Since they don’t have any lube at hand – and they’re both very much against doing any but-stuff without it – Stiles spits in his palm to use that as a substitute. It’ll have to do. He wraps his hand around them both (which isn’t easy, but again, it’ll have to do) and starts jerking them off. Derek does the same a couple of minutes later and thankfully he’s smart enough to kiss Stiles so he can swallow his moans.
Goddammit that feels good.
He can already feel his orgasm building and it’s almost embarrassing how soon this is going to be over, but he knows Derek is right there with him so he speeds up his hand and gives in to the pleasure.
“Fuck, I’m gonna come,” he breathes, leaning his head on Derek’s shoulder. A couple of strokes later his orgasm is pumped out of him and he has to bite Derek’s shoulder to stifle any sounds. Apparently that’s all the other man needs to fall over the edge as well.
They lean against each other, panting and exchanging soft, brief kisses while they wait to get their breaths back. It’s then that they hear the soft sigh, coming from . . . above them.
“Wow, and here I thought it was big when it was flaccid,” Erica muses, shamelessly peeking over the edge of the changing stall beside theirs.
“OH MY GOD, ERICA!”