“What the hell?” Stiles stops dead in the doorway to the loft and blinks rapidly. When that doesn’t work, he rubs his eyes and, nope, the image still isn’t going away. Derek is slow dancing around the living room with Isaac.
Isaac’s cheeks are bright red and he steps away from Derek quickly, stumbling over a chair. “I, this isn’t - I.”
Stiles doesn’t quite know what his face is doing, but it’s obviously something that disturbs Isaac, which, who cares, because this little scene has just disturbed the hell out of Stiles. He raises his eyebrows and stares at Derek, “Explanation? Please?”
“Isaac has a date. They’re going somewhere nice. He doesn’t know how to dance.”
“Succinct. That doesn’t explain you.”
“You!” Stiles waves a hand. “You with the feet and the co-ordination, and the moving. What was that?”
“Oh. I can dance.”
“But - what?”
Isaac picks up his schoolbag and moves towards the door, “I’m, uh, going to go and see Scott at work. Derek, more tomorrow?”
“After school, homework first.”
Stiles absently waves goodbye at Isaac and walks closer to Derek. He puts his hands on Derek’s hips and presses his body against him. “So,” he says. “You can dance?”
“It’s not a big deal.”
“Oh it’s totally a big deal. For instance, prom.”
Derek raises an eyebrow, “You seriously think they’ll let me come to prom with you?”
“I could sneak out,” Stiles says. “We could dance in the parking lot.”
“Laugh it up, but you’re doing that for me on prom night,” Stiles leans in, his mouth brushing against Derek’s.
“Oh really?” Derek mutters.
“Yep. In fact -” Stiles gets cut off by Derek’s lips on his. He sighs into the kiss, it’s slow and easy, like they’ve done it a million times. Stiles would be happy to kiss Derek forever. He grips at Derek’s hips, tugs him closer until Stiles can feel every inch of Derek’s body against him. Stiles pulls away with a soft smile. He reaches a hand up and threads it through Derek’s hair, twists the strands between his fingers when Derek leans into the touch.
“So how do you know how to dance?”
Derek lowers his eyes, “My mom taught me.”
“Oh,” Stiles continues running his hand through Derek’s hair and places a kiss against Derek’s temple. “Must’ve been a mom thing. My mom used to dance with me in the kitchen.”
“Yeah?” Derek meets Stiles’ eyes.
“Yeah. Nothing formal, just, she liked it, and I was a kid. It was fun.”
Derek leans in and kisses Stiles softly. “Dance with me,” he mumbles against Stiles’ lips.
“Dance with me,” Derek says. He takes Stiles’ hand and wraps an arm around Stiles’ waist. Stiles laughs delightedly and falls into Derek, pressing his face against Derek’s cheek. They sway slowly around the living room. Stiles can feel the beat of Derek’s heart and smiles to himself, knowing his heart is beating just as fast.
“Hey,” Stiles whispers.
Derek tilts his head back and looks at Stiles, “Yeah?”
“I like dancing with you.”
Derek smiles, a bright, blinding smile that Stiles rarely sees. It makes his heart pound faster and he suppresses the urge to kiss Derek because he doesn’t want that smile to go away. He presses his mouth against Derek’s jaw and relishes in the laugh that rumbles in Derek’s chest.
“Want to go upstairs?” Stiles asks.
“Yeah,” Derek says. He keeps hold of Stiles’ hand as they make their way up the spiral staircase.
Stiles sits on the edge of the bed and strips off his shirt, kicks off his shoes and smirks at Derek’s eyes on him. Derek kneels between Stiles’ legs and cups his face, kissing him softly. Stiles breaks the kiss and tugs at Derek’s shirt, “Off. Off, come on.”
Derek takes his shirt off and stands up to rid himself of the rest of his clothes. He raises an eyebrow at Stiles and gestures towards the jeans Stiles is still wearing. Stiles laughs and sheds his jeans, his boxers following quickly. He crawls back on the bed and looks at Derek pointedly. Derek shakes his head and crawls on top of Stiles, his hands running along each bit of bare skin he can touch. Stiles shivers and opens his mouth when Derek presses his lips against his. They kiss fiercely, a world away from their slow, lazy kisses downstairs and Stiles scratches his hands down Derek’s back. Derek bites at Stiles’ bottom lip when Stiles digs his fingers into the flesh of Derek’s ass. Stiles groans as Derek moves, his cock leaking pre-come against Derek’s hip.
“This good?” Derek asks, his mouth against Stiles’ neck.
“Are you kidding?” Stiles gasps as Derek thrusts down. “Yes, yes. Good, all of it, holy shit, Derek keep doing that.”
Derek lifts his head and grins, rolls his hips and cuts off the gasp Stiles makes with a kiss. They rut against each other, sloppy kisses exchanged throughout. Derek pushes up on his elbows and Stiles gazes at him, bites his lip at the sight of Derek’s pupils blown wide, sweat beading on his forehead. He pushes his hips up, the feel of his cock against Derek’s skin almost too much pleasure. Stiles’ hands roam across Derek’s body, he digs his fingers into Derek’s arms and cries out when he comes. His head falls back against the pillow, Stiles reaches up and pulls Derek against him, kisses him deeply as Derek’s cock slides through Stiles’ come. Stiles nips at Derek’s bottom lip, gasps when he feels Derek’s heart stutter just before he comes between them. Derek collapses on top of Stiles, his breath hot against Stiles’ neck.
“Fuck,” Stiles breathes out. “Holy fucking - fuck.”
Derek smiles against Stiles’ neck before placing a kiss against his skin. Stiles runs a hand up Derek’s back and scratches at the nape of his neck. He grins when Derek sighs and attempts to press even closer against Stiles.
“Hey, Derek?” Stiles says, tapping a finger against Derek’s arm.
“Yeah?” Derek cranes his head up, his face open and relaxed.
“I love you.”
Derek’s eyes widen, “I -”
Stiles puts a finger against Derek’s lips, cutting him off, “You don’t have to. I wanted to, because I do, and you should know that -”
“Stiles, shut up,” Derek huffs. Stiles drops his finger and grins. Derek kisses Stiles gently, “I love you too.”
Stiles hums happily and runs his fingertips against Derek’s skin. “Teach me to dance?” he asks with a smile. Derek nods and kisses Stiles’ cheek before he buries his face in Stiles’ neck. Stiles strokes his hands up and down Derek’s back, feeling the smooth planes of muscle beneath the skin. He grimaces when Derek shifts and can’t help but laugh at the look on Derek’s face when he rolls off him. They share a shower, lazy kisses slowing them down, Stiles dumps shampoo on Derek’s head and chuckles when the bubbles make their way down Derek’s face. He kisses Derek’s eyelids in apology and yelps when Derek smacks his ass in retaliation.
“Do you have to get home?” Derek asks when they’re drying off.
“Not yet,” Stiles says.
“Good,” Derek pulls Stiles against him and tangles their fingers together. He brings their joined hands to his mouth and kisses Stiles’ knuckles.
“Is Isaac coming back?”
“Eventually,” Derek says as they walk out of the bathroom. He lets go of Stiles’ hand to pull out two pairs of sweatpants from his drawer and hands a pair to Stiles. “Want to watch Buffy on Netflix?”
“Best boyfriend ever,” Stiles grins as he tugs the sweatpants on.
Derek smiles, a tiny, private smile that makes Stiles’ face heat up. Stiles grabs the comforter from the bed and they head downstairs. Derek switches the television on as Stiles sets up the XBox, he lies down on his side and waits for Derek to join him. He tugs the comforter over them both as Derek lies down on his back. Stiles rests his chin on Derek’s chest and tangles their legs together, his hands seeking out Derek’s skin. He’s trying to concentrate on Faith’s moral crisis, but curling up with Derek like this is so cosy that he’s failing completely. Derek notices and manhandles Stiles until he’s half lying on top of him, stroking his hands down Stiles’ bare back.
“S’nice,” Stiles mutters sleepily.
“You can nap if you want.”
“Can’t. I’ll have to go home soon.”
Derek kisses the skin he can reach, “I’ll wake you up in an hour.”
“Love you,” Stiles mumbles happily before he falls asleep.