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You're Perfect To Me

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Derek paused on his way back from the bathroom and looked at Stiles’ body sprawled out on the mattress. He was lying where Derek had left him; face down with his head at the wrong end of the bed, one arm hanging limp in total relaxation. This was one of the only times that Stiles was ever still; when he was sleepy and pliant after sex, sated and spent.

The faint, steady thud of his heart and the whisper of his breath were the only sounds in the otherwise silent room; and the gentle rise and fall of his ribs was the only movement. Derek’s lips stretched and spread into a smile. A secret, soft smile that was reserved for Stiles and Stiles alone.

The afternoon light, muted by the trees outside, filtered through the thin drapes over the window of Derek’s newly renovated bedroom and emphasized the landscape of Stiles’ naked back. Every dip and hollow was visible as shadows against his pale skin. Derek’s eyes traced over them; so intimately familiar, yet so precious. The curve of his spine, the angle of a shoulder blade, the dimples at the base of his spine above the gentle rise of his buttocks.

On impulse, Derek reached silently for his phone which lay on the dresser next to where he was standing, and took a photo. He stared at the screen for a moment, his smile widening.

It was perfect.

Stiles was perfect. He had no idea how beautiful he was. Modesty to the point of self-deprecation was all part of his charm, but sometimes Derek wished that Stiles could see him as Derek saw him. Derek would have liked to have had the words to tell him sometimes. But words weren’t Derek’s strong suit, and he would have felt foolish trying to explain something like that to Stiles.

He put his phone back down and climbed onto the bed beside Stiles, curving his body protectively around him. Stiles shifted sleepily and nestled back into Derek’s arms.

“I need a nap,” he murmured. “You wear me out; you and your insatiable werewolf sexual appetite.”

Derek snorted, his nose buried in Stiles’ spikes of hair -- no longer the short fuzz that it had been when they’d first met. “I’m pretty sure that it was you who was begging for round two.”

“Details.” Stiles waved a hand dismissively. It flopped back onto the mattress with a thud. “I still blame you for my current state of inertia, but I’m not complaining.” His voice was slurred now.

“Go to sleep, Stiles.” Derek stroked his hand down the long smooth length of Stiles’ back and felt him relax into the caress, so he did it again. “Sleep now.”


Derek missed Stiles while he was away at college more than he would ever have believed possible.

He was used to being alone, to having nobody. He and Stiles had taken so long to sort out the complex mess of feelings that they had for each other, that they’d only become something coherent shortly before Stiles started college. They’d had barely had one month together before Stiles moved away. So it shouldn’t be this hard. But once Derek had let his guard down and allowed Stiles in, he'd moved into Derek’s heart as though he owned it. He took up residence in all those dark secret spaces that had been empty for so long, and Derek felt whole again for the first time in years.

Stiles hadn’t moved far. His college was only a couple of hours away, so he came home most weekends. Occasionally Derek would drive to visit him; but Stiles preferred to come home so that he could spend time with his dad.

“Evening, Son.” The Sheriff smiled in greeting and stepped aside to let Derek into the house.

“Sheriff.” Derek nodded. “I got meat-lovers.” He held up the pizza boxes. “Don’t tell Stiles.”

The Sheriff chuckled. “More than my life’s worth. I’ll have salad tomorrow night to balance it out.”

The Sheriff missed Stiles too. Derek could smell it on him when he dropped by to visit. The house was too quiet and the scent of loneliness pervaded it. But the Sheriff was always glad to see Derek. It had become a habit for him to turn up a couple of times during the week when Stiles was away. They’d hang out and watch football and sit in comfortable mostly-silence while they both felt the absence of Stiles.

But they each missed him a little less when they were together.


Derek heard the distinctive sounds of Stiles’ jeep and his heart picked up, beating faster in anticipation. The Sheriff was working late tonight, so Stiles had come straight to Derek’s from college; Derek would have him all to himself for the night.

He went out front to wait for Stiles and grinned when he finally caught sight of the jeep. Stiles was waving from behind the wheel and as soon as he pulled to a stop Derek was there, opening the door for Stiles to climb out. Derek pressed him up against the jeep, pinning Stiles as he kissed him long and deep then dragged his face across and down to Stiles’ neck to lick and nuzzle at the soft skin there. He could smell strangers, and unfamiliar places and it unsettled him. But underneath those superficial scents there was the reassuring warmth of Stiles; his skin, his sweat, his musk. Derek rubbed the stubble of his cheek against the sensitive skin making Stiles wriggle and bat at his head.

“That tickles.”

“Just making sure you smell like me.” Derek pulled away and grinned, unapologetic.

“I’m sure you can think of other ways to make me smell like you.” Stiles teased. “Dirtier, messier ways...”

He yelped as Derek grabbed his wrist and pulled. “Get in the house, Stiles.” His voice came out rougher than he’d intended, just on the edge of a growl.

Stiles could move pretty fast when he was motivated.

They raced up the stairs, Stiles in front and Derek eyeing his ass as he moved. He reached for it, unable to resist and Stiles chuckled. “Dude, you’re so easy. I wasn’t even trying to wiggle.”

They stumbled into the bedroom, already kissing again and pulling impatiently at each other’s clothes. T-shirts got stuck over heads, jeans around ankles and underwear on erections; but finally they were beautifully, blissfully naked. Derek lay back on the bed and pulled Stiles on top of him, his hands on Stiles’ hips. Stiles laughed down at him, his face so open and full of joy that it made Derek’s chest hot and tight.

Stiles leaned down, his breath warm on Derek’s lips. “I missed you.”

“Missed you too.” Derek slid his fingers into the short spiky strands of hair and pulled Stiles closer, parting his lips.

The shrill sound of Derek’s phone ringing from the bedroom floor made them both startle.

“Leave it,” Stiles protested as Derek tried to move underneath him.

“No, I want to switch it off. Just for now. Whoever it is might call back and I don’t want to be interrupted.”

Stiles grinned, his brown eyes warm. “Okay... don’t get up. I’ll do it.” He scrambled off Derek and pulled the phone from the pocket of Derek’s pants, canceling the incoming call. “Let me just... oh, wrong button, hang on a minute...” Then there was a pause while Stiles stared at the screen. Derek heard Stiles’ heart rate spike sharply and he lifted his head to see that Stiles’ cheeks were flushed pink. Stiles’ voice was light when he spoke, but a slight tremble gave him away. “Dude, is this a picture of me? When did you take this? That’s kind of creepy-stalker behavior you know, even though you’re technically my boyfriend now.”

Derek felt his own cheeks heat. He lay back, staring at the cracks on the ceiling to avoid Stiles’ eyes. “I took it last weekend.” He waited as Stiles switched off the phone and climbed back onto the bed. He lay beside Derek, propped up on one elbow, rather than returning to his previous position. Derek could feel Stiles’ eyes on him but he kept his fixed on the ceiling. Stiles seemed to be waiting for more explanation, but Derek didn’t know where to begin. “I’m sorry,” Derek offered. “I’ll delete it if it makes you uncomfortable.”

“It’s fine.” Stiles put a hand on Derek’s chest and moved his fingertips slowly in an idle caress. “I mean... it’s kind of awesome that you want to have a naked picture of me on your phone. I’ve always dreamed of being the kind of person that people would want naked pictures of. I guess... I just find it weird that you see me like that, because it’s not what I see when I look in the mirror.”

Derek turned his head then and looked at Stiles. He could see the doubt in his eyes.

“You have no idea.” Derek shook his head, frustrated at his inability to find the words. He sat up and twirled a finger, indicating for Stiles to flip onto his front. Stiles stared at him for a moment, his eyes dark and uncertain, but he moved to lie as Derek had requested.

Derek straddled his hips and spread his hands over the width of Stiles’ shoulders. The skin was warm and soft, and so smooth under his palms. “Your skin is beautiful.” He leaned forward to kiss and lick, tasting the faint salt of Stiles’ sweat and breathing in the perfect scent of him. He heard the hitch of Stiles’ breath, the thud of his heart and he caught the renewed scent of arousal. Derek took his time, working his way lower. He mapped every dip and groove of bone and muscle. He paused to look and stroke with his hands, admiring the dark freckles that stood out like inverse constellations on the pale canvas of Stiles’ back. He kissed each one, joining the dots with his tongue until Stiles was humming with pleasure, his hips shifting in tiny movements against the mattress. Derek’s cock was hard and leaking sticky trails onto the sheets between Stiles’ legs, but he ignored the hot ache of it for now.

He finally reached those two perfect dimples at the bottom of Stiles’ spine. He paused again and sat up, placing his thumbs into them. They fit there like they were made just for him. His hands spanned Stiles’ waist and Stiles quivered under his touch, his breath short and harsh as he waited.

“Perfect.” Derek’s voice was barely more than a whisper.

He lowered himself back down and used his tongue, circling each dimple, pressing in with his tongue until Stiles squirmed and started humping the mattress in earnest. “Fuck, Derek.” His voice was rough and tight.

Derek moved lower still, biting and sucking at each round cheek of Stiles’ ass. He watched as the blood bloomed near the surface, leaving bright marks that would last into next week when Stiles wasn’t with him anymore. He grabbed Stiles’ ass cheeks and pulled them apart, nosing into the heat and musky sweetness between them. Stiles cried out and canted his hips up, opening himself up for Derek at the first wet swipe over his hole. He spread his legs wider, greedy and desperate.

Derek licked and pushed in with his tongue, stabbing it into Stiles as deep as he could in short fierce motions. Stiles’ heart was beating rapidly, his breath coming in ragged gasps. Derek could smell how close he was, he could feel it in the heat that rolled off Stiles’ body, in the hitch of his hips. Stiles was going to come like this, on Derek’s bed, with Derek’s name on his lips and Derek’s tongue in his ass.

Derek held off his own orgasm by sheer force of will as Stiles cursed -- “oh God... yes. Fuck, fuck... fuck!” -- and spilled onto the sheets. The hot, musky salt-scent of Stiles’ come filled Derek’s senses.

Derek pulled away while Stiles was still twitching and moaning beneath him. He couldn’t wait any more. He moved to straddle Stiles’ hips again and took his swollen cock in his hand. It jerked under his touch, precome pulsing from the slit and slicking the movement as he gripped and pulled his foreskin up over the dark red head. He was so fucking close, teetering on the brink; but he took a moment to look at Stiles, spread out beneath him.

“So, fucking, beautiful...” He punctuated each word with a torturously slow stroke, squeezing himself tightly on each pass. “You drive me crazy.” The movement of his hand sped up; he couldn’t help himself. Stiles tried to move, shifting his body as though he wanted to turn over to see. But Derek put one hand flat on his back and held him still.

He pushed his erection downwards, aiming at the small of Stiles back, and growled with primal satisfaction as his cock pulsed in his hand. Derek’s whole body shuddered with the force of it, his breath knocked from his body in strangled cries as he shot, painting Stiles’ lower back and ass with come. He squeezed out the last few drops and caught them with his fingertip. He rubbed it into those perfect dimples, then used his palms to smear the rest of his release onto Stiles’ skin until it was drying and sticky.

“It’s a good thing I love you.” Stiles’ voice was muffled by the pillow. “Because that’s kind of gross.”

Derek laughed, warmth flushing in his belly. “This is how I like you. Now you don’t smell of college anymore.”

He finally climbed off Stiles and collapsed beside him on the mattress, reaching for him. Stiles flopped over onto his side and snuggled in, wrapping his arms around Derek and getting as close as possible. “Yeah, now I stink of werewolf jizz.” He chuckled, breath warm on Derek’s neck. “You’re such an animal.”