Stiles wiggled a bit to adjust the fit of his skinny jeans and winced. There was a fine line between paint and pants and he was pretty sure that line had frowned at him in disapproval two sizes back. He popped a few breath mints and resisted the urge to run nervous hands through his hair lest he ruin Lydia's hard work. Stiles took a deep breath, sent up a prayer, and stepped into line at Howl, the most underground of underground nightclubs that Beacon Hills had to offer.
Not that Beacon Hills had any other underground nightclubs but still, Stiles was there, ready to unleash his inner beast and walk on the wild side.
Stiles was pretty much the last person anyone would have expected to find at a place like Howl. Not that Stiles didn't go out and have fun. He did, it was just the majority of Stiles's fun had to be dad tested and Sheriff approved. A place like Howl, an adult nightclub that was mysterious, a little bit dangerous and a lot provocative would never have gotten the Stilinski stamp of approval. Howl was not somewhere the underage son of the local sheriff should have been.
Sheriff's son or not, Stiles wasn't exactly known for playing by the rules. Even so he'd never done anything quite this reckless before. Coming by himself to an 'abandoned' warehouse on the outskirts of town that magically transformed into a nightclub a few select nights out of the month was definitely a step above occasionally nipping his dad's Jack, sneaking in past curfew or teaming up with Scott to take on Danny and Jackson in The Great Prank War of 2012. But, according to every romcom ever and verified by Lydia, being dumped was both a valid reason and legitimate excuse for making really bad decisions and going off in search of ill-advised adventure.
It had been three months and Stiles had wallowed over the break up long enough. He doubted that Ian had spent even a quarter of that time mourning the demise of their relationship. Stiles bet Ian had spent the last three months hooking up with anything that had a pulse. Ian was probably balls deep in some poor, unsuspecting UCLA student while Stiles stood in a long line full of dubious looking characters, dressed in his least comfortable but most fashionable pair of pants freezing his ass off and reevaluating his life choices.
At the top of that list was wasting the best years of his admittedly short life on a complete douchebag who'd ended their almost two year relationship via text message. The day he'd moved into his dorm Ian had texted Stiles to let him know that he was breaking up with him, claiming there was no room in his new life for his old, sexually frustrating, semi-virginal, high school boyfriend.
Stiles may not have taken the break up as well as he could have. Stiles had gathered everything that reminded him of Ian put it in a box, and set fire to it. As the fire blazed, Stiles had called his ex and left angry voicemails inviting Ian, his soul sucking wannabe frat boy persona and heteronormative definition of virginity to kiss his entire ass.
It wasn't as if Stiles was a complete virgin. They'd been exchanging hand jobs and having oral sex for the last six months. Sort of, depending on your definition of 'exchanging'. Ian's definition of exchanging meant that Stiles had been sucking Ian off and giving Ian hand jobs for the last six months which Ian had, on the rarest of rare occasions, returned.
Looking back Stiles realized that should have been a neon sign letting him know that his boyfriend was a selfish jackass.
Burning Ian's crap had been therapeutic…right up until the bushes had caught on fire and Stiles had ended up needing to dial 911. After that it had just been embarrassing.
So now Stiles was a single man. He was footloose and fancy free. He was also determined to unburden himself of both his heartbreak and whatever remained of his virginity.
Or have a good enough time to forget about Ian and his stupid face for at least one night.
Stiles was somewhere in the middle of the line, sandwiched behind some drag queens and the most enthusiastic lesbian couple he'd ever seen outside of porn when the club's doors finally opened. Stiles thought that the line would start moving then. He was wrong. Instead of everyone getting to go inside a guy who looked like he'd be at home on a Parisian runway or in a cage match fighting someone to the death stalked down the line. He looked over the potential club goers and turned away anyone who didn't pass inspection.
"What's going on?" Stiles asked one of the drag queens in front of him.
"Oh you're fresher than a newborn aren't you," she sneered as she flicked her bangs and critically examined Stiles.
"I'm um… yeah I have no idea what that means," Stiles admitted.
"Crystal, stop it. You're gonna scare the poor baby away," another of the ladies said as she turned around and gave Stiles a brilliant smile. "You have to excuse Miss Crystal DeCanter, honey. She has a PhD in being an A-S-S. I'm Pagan Holiday, and the rest of these lovely ladies are Iona Sextoy, Tequila Mockingbird, and Helen Heels. Now, to answer your question sugar, Bambi's pulling weeds."
"Bambi's pulling weeds?" Stiles repeated blankly.
"Oh my God, somebody get this bitch a keeper," Crystal muttered under her breath. At the vicious look she received from her friends she rolled her eyes and huffed. "Pulling weeds," she enunciated as if she thought Stiles too stupid to understand the words that came out of her mouth. "Tending the garden and leaving only the beautiful flowers behind? It means he's making sure none of the undesirables get through the door. Derek is like TLC when it comes to his club. He has a strict no scrubs policy."
As she turned back to her friends Stiles bit his lip. He'd never considered not getting in. His fake I.D. was top of the line (thank you Danny) and they were in Beacon Hills. It wasn't exactly a town teeming with people clamoring to get into a borderline legal nightclub. Then again, Stiles thought as he craned his neck and surveyed the crowd, maybe it was. The line spanned the length of the building and then wrapped halfway around the block. Looking over the club goers Stiles felt like he stuck out like a sore thumb. Most of the potential customers had opted for leather, see through mesh or some other eye catching form of club wear while the most risqué article of clothing Stiles had on were his unhealthily tight jeans. Stiles's hopes for getting in plummeted by the second as Bambi turned more and more people away.
Stiles tried to buck up by telling himself if he got kicked out of line it wouldn't be the first time he'd been banned from the cool kids table and least this time no one from school would be there to witness his humiliation. When he'd asked for help getting dressed Lydia had assumed he was going to Jungle and Stiles had been content to let her operate under that assumption rather than tell her the truth. Stiles figured he didn't have anything to lose. Worst case scenario, he got branded a 'weed', booted from the line and ended up at IHOP drowning his sorrows in a Rooty Tooty Fresh N Fruity.
Pagan and her friends were looked over and granted entrance and then it was Stiles's turn. Bambi stopped in front of him and his ice blue eyes raked over Stiles's form from top to bottom. The piercing gaze unsettled Stiles, making him feel as if he were being stripped bare and put on display. Bambi looked Stiles over for several moments and Stiles's face heated up as he fidgeted under the scrutiny. He was about to throw in the towel and forget the whole thing when Bambi leaned in and sniffed him.
What the ever loving fuck?
"It's Armani," Stiles blurted out because the only reason he could think of for Bambi to sniff him was that he was offended by or had liked the scent of Stiles's cologne. Stiles hoped it was the latter and not the former. Stiles was pretty confident he hadn't overdone it; he'd followed the strict usage instructions Danny had provided when he'd gifted Stiles with the bottle for Christmas. Stiles had maybe not so subtly campaigned for the gift by constantly stealing Danny's and dropping hints that only good things could come from one less guy in the locker room wearing Axe.
Bambi (and seriously Stiles needed to find out this dude's name) smiled at Stiles with way, way too many teeth, placed his hand on the small of Stiles's back and herded him past the front of the line to the bouncer at the door where Stiles's assumptions were once again proven wrong.
Stiles had figured the bouncer would be some lumberjack WWE type with muscles on his muscles, like Kristoff at Jungle. Instead, Stiles found himself face to face with a blonde bombshell poured into what had to be an unholy amount of tight leather. She had her full lips painted a burning red and she stared at Stiles with a wicked glint gleaming in her sloe brown eyes.
"I.D.," Bombshell said, snapping her fingers at Stiles. It had in no way been a request and Stiles fumbled a little when he pulled it out of his front shirt pocket and handed it over. Stiles's heart rate sped up as she examined it, looked at Stiles with sudden interest and then motioned to another employee. A dark skinned mountain of a man came to the door and Stiles wondered if everyone who worked at Howl was equal parts attractive and terrifying. The longer the trio whispered about him, the more Stiles panicked. Stiles suspected he'd been busted. He thought that they knew he was underage and were trying to decide what to do with him. From the looks tossed his way Stiles couldn't tell if they planned to take him out back and kneecap him as a punishment for trying to sneak in or if they knew who he was and were going to call his dad to come pick him up.
If those were his only options, Stiles greatly preferred the knee capping to parental intervention. He was fairly certain a beatdown would be nothing compared to whatever form of punishment a pissed off and disappointed Aleksander Stilinski dreamed up.
"Calm down sugar," Bombshell said, her voice full of mischief and false sweetness. "None of us are gonna hurt you. Much." Stiles was taken off guard when she reached out and pulled him forward and he stumbled a little before catching his balance. She stamped his hand and tucked his I.D. back into his shirt pocket with blinding speed and efficiency before she slapped him on his ass and pushed him towards the door. "Now you be careful in there, Little Red. Beware of the big bad wolf." Stiles stared at her for moment and looked down at his red v-neck curiously before shrugging off the comment and following Mountain Man into the club.
Stiles felt a little disoriented as flashing lights and pulsating music flooded his senses. He blinked a bit and took a few steps forward. He looked around a little before taking several steps backwards. When he was back where he'd started from he felt a heavy weight at his back. Stiles turned around and stared into Mountain Man's exasperated face.
"Did you come here to stand in the doorway all night or did you come here to dance?" Mountain Man asked as he shoved Stiles further inside.
"I'm totally gonna shake my groove thang," Stiles said and did a shimmy shake combination that caused looks of both pity and amusement to flash over Mountain Man's face. Which, whatever, Stiles's dance moves were legen…wait for it…dary. "I was just…there's no cover?" Stiles asked.
"Not for you," Mountain Man said. "Have fun. Keep your underage ass away from my bar and when you see Derek tell him we all expect a raise."
Stiles nodded and before he could ask any more questions Mountain Man disappeared. Officially on his own, Stiles took a deep breath and marched into the belly of the beast.
Howl was crowded. The dance floor was like a rolling sea of gyrating bodies baptized in neon and christened with glitter and sweat. The music crashed into him almost like a living thing and Stiles felt like the beat pounding in his bones. The air was thick with something heady and sweet that whispered of sex and magic and life. The feeling was otherworldly and it rushed through his veins. He felt exhilarated, excited and almost as if he'd been drugged.
Adrenaline flooded through him as he surveyed the crowd. Pagan and her friends were at the bar flirting with Mountain Man and quickly making their sobriety a thing of the past. Out on the dance floor tangled masses of flesh in various states of dress ground and writhed against one another. In the booths along the walls people made out, exchanging heated kisses and running eager hands over willing bodies. Unconcerned with privacy, they put on a show and almost dared people to watch.
The back of the club had been curtained off by a velvet rope. A tall, stunning brunette in a skin tight black lace dress seemed to be in charge of whom could enter. The brunette wasn't letting anyone in because everyone who approached her got turned away. Some accepted the snub with more grace than others but no one openly challenged her. As Stiles watched her, the somewhat bored expression slid from her face and she appeared to get excited about something. She scanned the crowd and then her gaze landed on Stiles. She locked eyes with him and the corners of her lips twisted up into a tease of a smile. She blew Stiles a kiss which caused him to flush and look away.
So yeah. Hot older woman checking him out? Totally a thing that just happened.
His confidence boosted, Stiles made his way to the bar. Since he'd driven himself to the club and Mountain Man had made it clear he wouldn't serve him, Stiles knew that alcohol wasn't an option but it was hot and he was thirsty. He figured if he ordered a virgin daiquiri or something it would at least help him look less like a high school kid who had snuck in, even if that's exactly what he was.
"Are you hard of hearing?" Mountain asked without looking up as Stiles settled on a stool in front of him. "Because I know ASL and if need be I can sign it for you: Get your underage ass away from my bar."
"I just want-"
"What you want is to get your underage ass away from my bar."
"Dude," Stiles said, as he widened his eyes in his best puppy dog impression. "I'm thirsty. It's hot in here and I'm dry man, dry like the Sahara. Like the Gobi. How would you feel if I dehydrated? I bet you would feel bad. You look like a compassionate…ish guy. I'm not saying you have to beer me but c'mon man,hook a brother up." Stiles whined.
Mountain Man rolled his eyes and tossed Stiles a bottled water.
Stiles pouted. "It's not even cold."
"I'll take it back," Mountain Man threatened.
Stiles clutched the bottle to his chest. "It's mine. You can't have the precious."
Mountain Man leveled a look at Stiles that indicated he questioned Stiles's mental acumen and made a shooing motion. "Step aside, Little Red. You're in the way of the paying customers."
Stiles began pulling a few bills out of his pocket. "My bad, dude. How much do I-"
Mountain Man shook his head. "It's on the house."
"Uh huh," Stiles said, suspiciously as he inspected the bottle to make sure the seal wasn't broken on the cap. Mountain Man gave him a look which Stiles returned and that inexplicably resulted in Mountain Man outright laughing at him.
"Kid, if I was gonna roofie you I would have given you a real drink," Mountain Man explained.
"Spend a lot of time figuring out how to roofie the unsuspecting public," Stiles asked subjecting Mountain Man to another squinting assessment.
"No," Mountain Man said evenly as he prepared a round of drinks for a blonde co-ed and her friends. "But working with the public as I do, I spend a fair amount of time contemplating how to get away with murder. I read on the internet that if you bury a dead body six feet under a dead animal it'll throw off the cadaver dogs."
Stiles choked on his drink. "Ha ha funny joke."
"Who's joking?" Mountain Man asked sighing heavily as one of the co-eds nearly fell over the bar in an attempt to shove her barely covered boobs in his face.
Stiles paused, mouth open and a little bit of water dribbled down his chin. He swallowed and then coughed. "I think I'm just gonna go over…someplace that's not here," Stiles said as he slid away from the bar slowly.
"I think that's a good idea," Mountain Man said as he collected tips from the co-eds while discreetly disposing of the phone numbers he'd been passed.
"Okay," Stiles said to himself as he settled into his new place at end the bar away from Mountain Man. "On the plus side, there are hot people here and I got in free. On the minus side, I may have made an enemy of a drag queen and the bug fuck crazy bartender might actually be a serial killer."
A laugh rang out and Stiles looked up sharply. Mountain Man saluted him with a drink and mimed slitting his throat.
"A serial killer with the ears of a fucking bat. That's it; the white flag has been waved and that's the end of tonight's adventure," Stiles mumbled. He spilled his water as he scrambled up. "Gonna hit up IHOP, go home, play some WoW, maybe Skype with Scott, and be grateful that I'm not in a hole putting lotion in a basket. Okay yes, that is a good plan. That is my plan," Stiles muttered as he mopped up the spill.
Or it at least that had been his plan until Stiles felt a body at his back and heard a pleasant voice in his ear.
"Dance with me?"
Stiles snuck a quick peek over his shoulder and was greeted by the site of big blue eyes, fire kissed hair and an earnest smile. He took a moment to weigh the pros and cons. He could dance with a cute guy and give the potentially homicidal bartender more time to plan his murder or go home and end up having struggled into the skinniest of skinny jeans for no reason.
Stiles knew what the old, Ian dating Stiles would have done.
And that is why he did the exact opposite.
"Sure," Stiles said as he stood up and smiled at the guy who really was pretty cute. His name was Jason, he was just a touch shorter than Stiles, but Stiles decided he could work with that.
What Stiles couldn't work with was the way Jason took Beyonce's advice and made repeated attempts to "grind up on him and show him how you ride it". Or at least that's what Jason had whispered in Stiles's ear when he'd grabbed a handful of Stiles's ass and squeezed.
Never before had Stiles felt so betrayed by his Queen Bey.
As soon as the song ended Stiles stepped away and swiftly retreated back to the relative safety of the bar.
"Not a word," Stiles warned Mountain Man as he reclaimed his seat.
"Oh, killing me softly and I'm still falling," Mountain Man sung under his breath.
"I hate you," Stiles grumbled. "You are the worst."
"Since it's an upgrade from bug fuck crazy, I'll take it." Mountain Man replied. He winked at Stiles and handing him another water.
"The worst," Stiles repeated before he cracked the seal on the bottle and took a long drink. "What's your name anyway because I keep calling you Mountain Man in my head. I'm Miguel, if you were wondering."
"My name's Boyd and your name isn't Miguel."
"My name is totally Miguel," Stiles insisted, affronted on behalf of his fake I.D. "Give me one good reason you think my name isn't Miguel."
"Because everybody in Beacon Hills knows who the Sheriff's kid is," Boyd grinned. "And his name ain't Miguel…Stiles."
"Aww hell," Stiles sighed. "But if you knew why did you guys let me in?"
Boyd didn't answer. He squeezed Stiles's forearm and left Stiles sitting there while he went back to making drinks. Stiles sat alone for a few minutes before he got invited to dance again, this time by a girl with punk purple hair, a shy smile and a killer body.
Stiles had been a little nervous about not having anyone at the club to watch his back but then he'd felt eyes on him and looked around to discover that both Boyd and Ruby (which was what he'd taken to calling the goddess guarding the velvet rope because she reminded him of Ruby from Once Upon A Time) were keeping an eye out for him. Instead of being freaked out by their not so covert surveillance, Stiles had taken a strange sort of comfort in being watched over. After awhile Stiles relaxed and got caught up in a whirlwind of activity. He danced with the girl-Amanda-two more times before being stolen away to dance with several more people, including Pagan and her friends. Stiles lost himself and his inhibitions in the music and the push-pull of warm, willing bodies against his.
Stiles might have enjoyed the attention a little more than was healthy. Stiles knew he hadn't been beaten by the ugly stick or anything like that, but his social circle didn't do his self-esteem any favors. Scott and Lydia were his best friends and there wasn't anything average about Lydia's strawberry blonde perfection. Uneven jawline or not, Stiles had seen more than enough girls-and quite a few guys- giving Scott the eye, especially when his shirt was off. Add to that Allison and Jackson, who were so perfect they could be cast in the roles of prince and princess in the next Disney movie. And then there was Danny who was the reigning President of The Great Genes Club and Ian-asshole he may have been-was the type of guy that made people do a double take when he walked by.
People noticed his friends because they all looked like they should be starring on a CW drama. When people noticed Stiles it was because of his sense of humor, his intelligence, or overall personality. Stiles was used to being in the background and having to tell a few jokes or have a little conversation before anyone displayed any interest in him. But that wasn't the case at Howl. People had looked at Stiles, liked what they'd seen and approached him. Maybe it was shallow of him but it was a head rush, having people interested in him strictly because of the way he looked. It was a new experience and Stiles fed off of it. Under the hot lights of the club with the music pumping, the alcohol flowing and all the attention focused on Stiles, he felt wanted, sexy and more than a little bit powerful.
Take that Ian!
Currently, Stiles was dancing with the guy formerly known as Bambi and presently known as Isaac. They'd been dancing together for awhile so Stiles didn't protest when Isaac tugged on his belt and dragged him closer, putting their hips flush together and spreading his hands across the small of Stiles's back. Stiles followed Isaac's lead and for the first time that night flirted with the idea of letting someone take him home. After all, hanging onto what was left of his virginity hadn't done him any favors and according to Lydia virginity was just a social construct anyway. Stiles didn't exactly know what that meant but if Lydia said it, then it had to be true. What Stiles did know was that all virginity had ever done for him was get him pressured (by Ian) and mocked (again by Ian) and then dumped (once more with feeling, by Ian).
Huh. Maybe virginity hadn't been the problem. Maybe the problem had been Ian.
Stiles made a mental note to ponder that later because at the moment Isaac was hot and Stiles was getting turned on. So much so that he didn't even blink when another body slid behind him and pressed in close. The new guy picked up their rhythm, splayed a large hand over Stiles's midsection and drew Stiles back into him. Stiles relaxed against his new dance partner and then the guy buried his head into the crook of Stiles's neck and… sniffed him.
After being sniffed for the second time that night, Stiles wondered if Howl catered to people with a smell kink of some kind. He got some distance between them and turned his head so he could get a good look at the guy. As soon as he turned, Stiles found himself staring at the most attractive person he had ever seen outside of the movies.
And Stiles meant all of the movies, up to and including anime and porn.
Jackson had totally just lost his part and the role of Disney Prince was now being played by Hot Club Guy.
He was a bit taller than Stiles with sun kissed skin, a strong jaw peppered with stubble, and dark hair that looked so soft Stiles felt his fingers curl with the desire to touch. His sharp green eyes looked predatory even as they were blown wide with want and his lips were just the right amount of full- like soft, fluffy pillows of perfection that Stiles wanted to bite.
And hello Stiles Jr. Nice of you to join the party.
The guy wasn't overly built but he was solid and when Stiles laid an exploratory hand on his forearm muscles rippled underneath his touch. Stiles had always fantasized about being fucked up against a wall and Adonis (that's what Stiles dubbed him since there was no way he was a normal human being) looked like the kind of guy that could easily turn that fantasy into a reality.
Adonis leaned in over Stiles's shoulder and said something to Isaac that made Isaac smile and then step away, leaving Stiles alone with Adonis on the dance floor. Before Stiles could protest Isaac's departure, Adonis leaned in and whispered in Stiles's ear in a voice that was as smooth as silk and as rich as sin, "I've been watching you since you walked through the door and I have to say, my people were right about you. You're absolutely perfect for me."
A knuckle brushed ever so faintly over his cock as Stiles's shirt was rucked up and hot hands found their way underneath, fingernails lightly scratching over his happy trail and fingertips ghosting over his abs. "Oh my God," Stiles groaned, arching back into the solid wall of muscle behind him.
"Actually it's Derek," Adonis-no Derek-chuckled. "But you can call me God if it that's what works for you."
"Derek," Stiles repeated and then remembered Boyd's words from earlier. "Boyd, Isaac, and the terrifyingly beautiful blonde at the door expect a raise," he relayed dutifully.
"Do they now?" Derek drawled as he nosed along Stiles's jawline. "I suppose they've earned it."
There was something vaguely dangerous about Derek but Stiles had been prepared for danger from the moment he'd pulled into the parking lot. Danger was why he had pulled into the parking lot. He'd wanted to do something reckless, make a bad decision and Derek... Derek looked the best kind of bad decision. Derek looked like the kind of bad decision that Stiles could make many, many times, several times in a row, in several different positions.
"Ooh little brother, what have we here?" Ruby asked as she stepped in front of Stiles boxing him in between the two of them.
Stiles struggled to keep his eyes on her (unbelievably) gorgeous face but he lost that battle when she pressed up against him, slipped her fingers into his belt loops and pulled him forward. His eyes drifted down, over her bosom, across her hips and followed long, shapely legs before they snapped back up to meet amused hazel eyes.
"Like what you see?" She challenged.
"Behave Laura," Derek murmured as he continued to run his hands under Stiles's t-shirt, tweaking his nipples.
"I'm pretty sure this is the part in the Stranger Danger presentation where I'm supposed to say I need an adult," Stiles quipped.
Laura licked her lips and winked at Stiles. "I volunteer."
"Laura," Derek warned.
Stiles bit off a moan as Derek's teeth scraped over the tender flesh of his earlobe. Derek pulled Stiles away from Laura and back up against him. "S-so I'm guessing you don't play well with others," Stiles joked.
"Actually Derek usually doesn't have a problem sharing his toys with me," Laura corrected Stiles, sliding the pad of her thumb over his bottom lip. "But something tells me that my baby brother wants you all to himself," she remarked patting Stiles on the cheek.
Before Stiles responded to that brain melting news Derek spun him around so they faced each other. "She's right. I do want you all to myself," Derek said as his eyes roved over Stiles, hot and hungry. Stiles's throat went dry and he nervously licked his lips. Derek's eyes darkened and he dipped his head forward, going slow enough so that Stiles could pull away if he wanted to.
Stiles didn't want to.
"Congratulations little brother," Laura murmured before she left the two of them alone. Stiles hardly registered her leaving because at that moment Derek captured his lips in a kiss that threatened to make Stiles shoot off in the middle of the club. Derek didn't kiss so much as devour and he left Stiles no choice but to yield as he licked into his mouth with savage intensity, leaving none of its sweetness left unexplored.
Ian had never kissed him the way Derek did. Stiles suspected that there wasn't another person on the planet that knew how to kiss with kind of intent and intensity that Derek did. Ian's kisses had always asked; Derek's demanded and Stiles loved the difference. He slid his fingers into Derek's hair, mapping the contours of Derek's skull and scratching lightly along his scalp.
Stiles completely forgot they were in the middle of a crowded nightclub as Derek worked him over. His cock throbbed and Stiles bucked against Derek in search of friction. Derek didn't miss a beat, sliding a thigh between Stiles's legs and pressing up into him in a move that nearly took Stiles off his feet.
"I hate these pants," Stiles muttered, tearing his mouth away from Derek's. "Stupid, stupid too tight pants that are in no way comfortable, crushing my dick, won't let me feel anything and oh my God I just said that out loud," Stiles groaned. "Um so…I'm Stiles and occasionally I say really inappropriate things completely unaware I'm actually saying them out loud. And just so you know, by occasionally I mean all the time."
Derek smirked and brought his lips up to the shell of Stiles's ear. "Here's what's about to happen," he whispered. "I'm going to take you into my private booth, spread you out, wrap my lips around your cock and make you come so you can take the edge off. After I finish with you here, we're going to leave out the back. Then I'm going to take you home and do my level best to fuck you until the only name you can remember is mine. Is there any part of that you have a problem with?"
Stiles whimpered and pinched himself to make sure he wasn't dreaming. When he'd entered Howl he'd had hope for the possibility that maybe he'd find someone to hook up with to take his mind off of Ian. He'd never imagined that he'd end up with someone like Derek, someone unbelievably sexy who wanted Stiles badly enough that he was going to suck him off right there and then.
"I'd like to thank God and also Jesus," Stiles said solemnly before he looked at Derek and nodded. "Yes. I would like…all of that. Just yeah, that whole thing that you just said? Every part of that is cool with me."
"Good," Derek said, smiling wickedly and pulling Stiles towards Laura and the curtained off VIP section. Stiles stumbled a couple of times but he managed to both keep pace with Derek and not bump into any of the other dancers as they made their way across the floor.
Goosebumps erupted over his skin and he suppressed a full body shiver. Stiles acknowledged that he may have been more excited than the average bear at the prospect of having his dick sucked. It wasn't as if he'd never had a blowjob, but they had been few and far between because Ian had always preferred for Stiles to be the one on his knees.
"Try not to break him," Laura cooed as she unhooked the velvet rope that separated Derek's private area from the rest of the club. Stiles scarcely had time to take in the rich red velvet, smooth black leather and glittering glass design of the room before Derek shoved him down into one of the booths. Stiles sank into the plush cushions and bit back a curse as Derek fell to his knees, hands making their way up Stiles's thighs, over his hips, up his slim torso and back down as he nuzzled at the obscene bulge in Stiles's crotch, sucked his lush bottom lip between his teeth and peeked up at Stiles coyly from beneath his lashes.
"C-condom's in my-"
"Don't need one," Derek replied.
"Uh, yeah we do," Stiles insisted.
"I know that I'm negative," Derek said seriously making eye contact with Stiles. "And I'm pretty confident that you are too. Am I'm wrong?" Derek asked.
"No," Stiles admitted softly. "You're not wrong. I'm totally in the clear." And he was. Stiles had gotten tested twice in the last three months since he and Ian had called it quits just to make sure.
"Then I think we're good here," Derek said. He licked his lips again and began working on Stiles's belt.
"Oh fuck me," Stiles moaned at the sight of Derek, eyes darkened with need, skin flushed, and lips shiny with spit. Stiles ignored every safe sex lecture he'd ever heard as his head fell back and he closed his eyes, hissing out in pleasure as Derek mouthed over his clothed erection.
Stiles fisted Derek's hair as he panted above him. "Derek…please," he begged not caring how desperate it made him sound. As soon as the plea left his lips Derek unzipped him, manhandling Stiles's pants and boxers over his hips and down his legs. Stiles didn't even have time to blink as Derek slung one strong arm over his hips to keep him anchored to the cushions and wrapped his lips around him. "Oh sweet motherfucking niblets," Stiles moaned as he closed his eyes.
Almost immediately the hot, wet suction was gone and Stiles opened his eyes to see Derek sitting back on his heels laughing.
"Nooo," Stiles scowled. "You don't get to laugh at me. Your mouth man…you have no idea what your mouth is like. I cannot be held responsible for whatever stupid shit I say when I have my dick in your mouth."
"Seriously?" Derek asked. "Sweet niblets?"
"I had a phase," Stiles said as he glared down at Derek defensively.
"So did my nine year old sister," Derek laughed.
"I was babysitting over the summer and the kids lived off of Disney Channel reruns and you know what-I am suddenly very much not in the mood for this anymore," Stiles huffed as he struggled to get up.
Faster than Stiles believed a person could move Derek was off his knees and looming over him. "No," he said lowly, "I'm not done with you yet."
"Yeah well, more sucking my dick and less of you being a dick would be appreciated," Stiles grumbled.
"If that's what you want," Derek said planting a large hand in the center of Stiles's chest and shoving him back down. "Then you need to lie back, shut up, and do what you're told."
"Yes Derek, whatever you say Derek," Stiles mocked.
Derek raised an eyebrow. "Aren't you a little young to be quoting The O.C.?"
"Soapnet marathon with Lydi-ah!" Stiles choked off a scream as Derek licked a sinful stripe from the base of his cock all the way to the tip before he circled the head.
Stiles thought he would consider it a personal best if he managed not to come in the next sixty seconds.
Stiles legitimately couldn't remember the last time Ian had given him a blowjob but it didn't matter because Ian had never given him a blowjob like this before. "Derek!" Stiles cried out, curling his fingers in Derek's hair as Derek began to hum around his cock.
"Oh f-fuck you," Stiles stuttered as he realized that Derek was humming the theme song to Wizards of Waverly Place. Derek narrowed his eyes in response and sucked Stiles down entirely in retaliation. Suddenly everything was hot and wet and perfect. Stiles was pretty sure he'd died and gone to heaven because he couldn't imagine anything on earth that felt as good as Derek's mouth.
Derek's hands slid beneath him, cupped his ass and dragged him to the edge of the velvet couch, kneading the pale globes as Derek's mouth pushed him into a state of frenzy. Derek's touch was hot and rough and Stiles melted under it. Ian had never touched him like this, as if Stiles were his for the taking. Stiles found that he liked the change, liked the way Derek touched him like he owned him and took what he wanted. Derek moaned around him, relaxed his throat and took him deeper. He loosened his grip on Stiles's hips, encouraging Stiles to thrust into his mouth.
Stiles moaned like the bastard child of a whore and a porn star. He would have been embarrassed except he'd given his dignity up as a lost cause the moment Derek's lips had wrapped around his cock. Stiles pumped his hips while Derek sucked him down as if making Stiles come was his life's work. Stiles had never engaged in all that much PDA with Ian so by rights a semi-public blowjob should have been too far out of his comfort zone to even contemplate, but Stiles found that he got off on the idea that maybe other people had seen him enter the room with Derek and knew exactly what the two of them were doing.
Sooner than Stiles wanted he felt his balls tighten and the muscles in his abdomen clench. "D-Derek," he whined. "I'm gonna…oh shit…I'm gonna come," he warned, trying to pull Derek off but Derek only reached up, batted Stiles's hands away and redoubled his efforts to drag an orgasm out of Stiles, massaging his balls and playing around the rim of his hole.
Stiles bit down on his fist in an attempt to muffle his cry as he arched his back and came, hot and hard, down Derek's throat. Derek didn't pull off, didn't even stop. Derek sucked him through his orgasm until Stiles lay on the cushions, completely spent and utterly boneless.
Derek cleaned Stiles up with his tongue, petting his thighs and nuzzling his stomach, hands gently massaging Stiles's ass as he dropped kisses onto the finger shaped bruises he'd left on Stile's hip bones. "Come on sweetheart, up you go," Derek ordered, his voice rough as he rose gracefully from his knees and pulled Stiles to his feet.
"That was so…" Stiles trailed off, unable to find the words for what he wanted to say.
"Yeah it was," Derek agreed pulling Stiles's clothes up and redressing him. "You're okay, right?" He asked as he looked at Stiles with genuine concern.
"I feel like I should be asking you that," Stiles said softly as he nodded, reaching out and tangling his fingers in the hem of Derek's shirt. "I've never…it wasn't like that before," he finished helplessly.
Derek made a rough noise and Stiles startled a bit, stepping back. "I want you to forget about before," Derek said softly. "You're here now, with me and that's what matters."
"I like being here with you," Stiles admitted.
Derek smiled and kissed him. He left a trail of butterfly kisses up Stiles's neck and along his jawline, nipping every so often and then soothing the hurt with his tongue.
"You know it wasn't your fault, right?" Derek asked Stiles quietly. "Whoever he was, he didn't know how to handle you. He's a fool who had no idea what he had."
Stiles swallowed and tried to calm his racing heart. "How um, how would you handle me?"
Derek bit down hard on Stiles's throat, causing his knees to buckle as he sank into the solid press of Derek's body. "However you'd let me," he answered huskily. "And you would let me, wouldn't you Stiles?"
"God yes," Stiles gasped out, closing his eyes and practically plastering himself to Derek. Stiles wasn't entirely sure what was going on but he didn't want to question it. Derek had given him everything he'd come out that night looking for, as well as things he hadn't known he wanted or needed.
And Stiles needed, he needed even more than he wanted and that was an almost scary realization for him to have.
It was as if being with Derek had unlocked an unknown part of Stiles that wanted nothing more than to yield, to let the older man hold him down and take complete control. He wanted to give Derek all his secrets and show him all his vulnerabilities, trust that Derek could take him apart and then put him back together again. He'd never wanted that with Ian, never trusted him enough to let him get close enough to even try, and he didn't understand how Derek had managed to breach more of his defenses in one night than Ian had almost two years. Stiles was pretty sure that he wasn't going to get more than one night with Derek, but he was determined to make the most of whatever time they had together.
Stiles tilted his head up and Derek covered his lips with his own, dragging his hands up Stiles's body until he cupped his face, drawing him in closer and kissing him like he meant it. Stiles could taste himself on Derek's tongue and he felt Derek, hard and throbbing against his hip.
"Do you want me to?" Stiles asked gesturing towards Derek's jean clad erection.
"I can wait," Derek assured him, taking Stiles by the hand and leading him deeper into the back of the room, behind a heavy partition to a well hidden door.
Pieces of a puzzle started sliding into place for Stiles. Crystal's comment about Derek not wanting scrubs in his club, Boyd's request for a raise, the fact that Derek had referred to his 'private booth' and he'd been the only person Laura had allowed back here all led Stiles to one conclusion: Howl was Derek's club. And if Howl was Derek's club…
Realization dawned for Stiles and he suddenly stopped moving, causing Derek to stop as well and give him a questioning glance.
"What's your last name?" Stiles asked seeking confirmation of his suspicions.
Derek gave Stiles a small kiss on his forehead. "I'm pretty sure there's some social nicety against asking questions you already know the answer to."
"And I'm pretty sure you didn't answer my question," Stiles fired back.
Derek smirked. "Do you really need me to, Mr. Stilinski?"
"No I really don't," Stiles said, trying to cover his surprise that Derek knew his last name. "You're Derek Hale. Derek Hale knows who I am and…you're Derek Hale."
Stiles, like everyone else in the community, knew who the Hales were. The family had been among the first to settle in the Beacon Hills area and they were extremely well respected, excessively wealthy, and at the top of the towns social and societal food chain.
They were also incredibly close knit, somewhat secretive and had at least one major skeleton rattling around in their closet.
Stiles remembered that a few years back there had been some sort of scandal involving the Hales son Derek and Allison's aunt Kate. The details were sketchy but it had ended in a quickie trial and Kate being convicted of several counts of conspiracy to commit murder, conspiracy to commit arson and a laundry list of other charges. Derek had been a teenager at the time and in the wake of the trial he had been shuttled out of town to live with his uncle Peter in order to protect him from the gossip. Story was that his older sister Laura had elected to go with him and as far as Stiles knew no one had seen Derek or Laura again until a few months ago when they suddenly reemerged with Peter in tow. Stiles recalled his father mentioning that since their return Derek and Laura had purchased several residential and commercial properties and that Peter had joined Christian Whittemore's law firm.
"Yes, I know who you are and yes, I'm Derek Hale. Have been since the day I was born," Derek confirmed, pulling Stiles back to the present.
"That's totally awesome," Stiles said. "For you, I mean. What I meant is that it's awesome that you're you and this place is yours because this place is awesome and uh-"
"I'm rather partial to it," Derek mercifully interrupted. "I'm not sure this is exactly what my parents expected me to do with my Ivy League education but it's working out just fine."
"I bet it is. Dude this place is all anyone can talk about. Why'd you name it Howl anyway?" Stiles asked. "Don't tell me it's a Twilight reference. Hate to break it to you buddy but there are no wolves in California."
An unreadable expression crossed Derek's face and then he pressed another kiss onto Stiles's lips. "I had my reasons," he answered, getting Stiles moving again and leading him through the door. They ended up in a dark hallway where they bumped into Boyd, who smothered a grin at the sight of the two of them and inclined his head towards the exit door.
"Isaac pulled your car around for you," he told Derek.
Derek nodded and hustled Stiles to the exit. Just as they reached the door, Derek suddenly turned and pushed Stiles into the wall, kissing him again, lazy and languid. Derek's kisses were some kind of drug and Stiles had quickly become an addict because he couldn't get enough of them as they made out.
Stiles enjoyed kissing Derek-he really enjoyed kissing Derek-but Stiles was Stiles and now that he knew for sure who Derek was he had questions. And Stiles had never been very good at stifling his curiosity even at the most inopportune moments.
"What did Laura mean earlier," Stiles asked breathlessly, pushing against the solid mass of muscle that was Derek's chest to create some space between the two of them. "About you two sharing?"
Derek chuckled darkly and gave Stiles a predatory and hungry look that went straight to Stiles's cock. "Laura and I tend to enjoy the same things," Derek shrugged. "Occasionally we enjoy them together."
"Things as in people," Stiles clarified.
"Among other things," Derek answered him.
Though he was technically an only child, Stiles thought of Scott was his brother from another mother. He briefly tried to imagine the two of them sharing Allison or Ian and yeah…that was a really unpleasant visual that Stiles vowed to never revisit again as long as he lived.
"How does that even work?" Stiles blurted out. "Scott's not even my real brother and Allison is hot like fire but my junk being anywhere near Scott's junk would not bring sexy back. In fact, I'm pretty sure it would result in sexy changing its name and going into the Witness Protection Program. Not to put too fine a point on it, but it's likely that would result in some hard core sexual dysfunction. Seriously dude, they haven't invented the blue pill that would clear that shit up," Stiles said. "No offense," he added weakly.
"None taken," Derek assured him reaching out and squeezing Stiles's hips. "Our family's a little different from most, Stiles. We're close…incredibly close and Laura and I have always had a very special bond."
"How special?" Stiles asked, not sure if it would be considered rude to just come out and ask Derek if he was boning his own sister.
"Not that special," Derek laughed, obviously guessing where Stiles's thoughts had led him.
"How did you even start…sharing?"
"After I graduated college I brought a few clubs in LA and Laura managed them for me. I would come in every so often to make sure everything was running smoothly and if someone there caught my eye and I'd hook up with them. One night I was dancing with a guy and the next thing I knew he'd called Laura over. We shared a few drinks, danced a little more, and we all ended up at back at my place."
"And he was okay with that?"
"He initiated it," Derek informed Stiles.
"So you and Laura don't-"
"I've never fucked my sister Stiles," Derek said, biting briefly on Stiles's lower lip before he released it. "Nor do I want to. When Laura and I share that's exactly what it is. And we don't share everything."
Stiles couldn't help it. He made a sound that was somewhere between a dying whale and a Dalek as his eyes slid shut and fisted his hands in Derek's shirt. "Oh thank fuck," he breathed. "Not that there's anything wrong with being the tasty middle of a Hale sandwich but I just don't think I'm ready for that."
"Don't worry," Derek said burying his face in the crook of Stiles's neck and breathing him in. "I have no intention of sharing you with Laura or anyone else." He pulled Stiles away from the wall. "If there's nothing else, I'd really like to take you home now," Derek murmured.
"Okay," Stiles agreed shakily.
The drive to Derek's loft was short but they used to the time to get to know each other. Derek let Stiles dictate the conversation and whenever he went off onto a tangent or veered wildly off topic Derek firmly reined him back in and got him refocused. Derek teased Stiles about his love of comics and Stiles accused Derek of being a hipster when he found out that he only listened to college radio and indie rock. Somewhere in the back of his mind a little voice told Stiles that he could get used to having Derek around and Stiles ignored that little voice for as long as he could and then threatened to rip out its vocal chords if it didn't shut up.
When they reached Derek's apartment complex he hustled Stiles out of the car, into the building and up to his loft in record time. It wasn't until Stiles heard the tumblers of Derek's lock click with the turning of his key that it hit him that he was about to sleep with a man he'd just met..
And Derek was a man. A fully grown, college educated man and Stiles still had a few months to go before he graduated high school. This wasn't anything that Stiles had ever imagined himself doing but he wasn't going to back out and he wasn't having regrets or second thoughts. Even so, he was incredibly nervous and couldn't help the slight shake in his hands as he tugged on the hem of his shirt while he waited for Derek to open the door.
As soon as they were inside Stiles was lifted off of the ground and pushed back into the closed door, Derek's mouth slotted over his and Derek's body flush against his own.
Derek's hands tangled in Stiles's hair, yanking on the short tresses and causing Stiles to release a needy moan that was quickly swallowed up by Derek's mouth. Stiles hardened as Derek pressed an insistent thigh between his legs, placed both hands under his thighs and suddenly lifted him up. Stiles instinctively wrapped his legs around Derek's waist as Derek carried him up a spiral staircase. They stumbled down the hallway, bumping into walls and knocking pictures into the ground, tangled together and unable to stop kissing.
The minute they reached the bedroom, Derek put Stiles on his feet and stripped him out of his shirt. Stiles didn't have time to grow self-conscious before he was pushed back onto a luxurious bed that had already been turned down and long, wicked fingers removed his shoes and socks then undid his belt and popped the button on his jeans.
And then, because it was Stiles and the universe hated him, the zipper on his skinny jeans got stuck. Derek looked so personally offended that Stiles couldn't stop the laughter that bubbled up and spilled over. Derek glared at him and then went back to work on the zipper to no avail. Derek eventually tired of wrestling with it and when the sound of ripping fabric filled the air Stiles couldn't find a single fuck to give because it meant that Derek could finish undressing him. Soon enough Stiles was as naked as the day he was born, lying in the middle of Derek's bed as Derek stared down at him.
Suddenly Stiles felt incredibly vulnerable as he realized that while he was naked, Derek was still fully dressed.
"Tell me what you want," Derek asked not moving to undress or touch Stiles.
"Is this where I say world peace," Stiles joked, refusing to look Derek in the eye.
"No," Derek said, taking Stiles's chin and gently forcing his eyes up to meet his. "This is where you tell me what you want."
"I thought you were going to do your level best to fuck me until I forgot my name," Stiles reminded him. "Hence the nakedness and all."
"Is that what you want?" Derek asked him quietly. "Do you want me to fuck you, Stiles?"
"Do you want to fuck me?" Stiles countered quickly.
"What I want is to make sure you understand what we're doing here and that you don't have second thoughts or doubts," Derek explained. "So tell me, what do you want."
Stiles went hot then cold all over as Derek's words washed over him. He made eye contact with Derek and nodded. "You should know your timing sucks. We totally should have had this conversation before I got all naked but yeah, Derek, I want this. I want you. I want you to f-fuck me."
As soon as Stiles made his admission, Derek dipped his head down and kissed him, trailing kisses over his face, into his throat, across his collarbone and over his chest. "You don't even know how beautiful you are," Derek murmured as he traced a path between the moles on Stiles's torso. "The things I'm going to do you," Derek promised as he rose and quickly removed his own clothing.
"Jesus," Stiles whispered as a shiver rolled through him at his first sight of Derek, bronze, toned and perfectly proportioned with washboard abs, strong thighs and muscled biceps. When Derek turned to toss his clothes onto the floor, Stiles got a glimpse of a triskelion tattoo etched across Derek's back. Stiles's mouth watered with how badly he wanted to trace over it with his tongue and taste the smooth expanse of all that bare skin. "You cannot just say things like that," he told Derek.
"Not even if it's true?" Derek asked. He bent his head, took one of Stiles's nipples into his mouth and teased it to a stiff peak with his teeth and tongue before moving over to the other one and repeating the process. "You feel so fucking good," Derek breathed.
"Isn't that my line," Stiles asked, as he brought his hands around and mapped the breadth of Derek's upper back and then followed the dips of his spine down to his perfectly shaped ass.
Stiles bit down on Derek's shoulder to keep from crying out and then moved on to the underside of his jaw, whimpering into Derek's ear and making little kitten licks over his throat. "You have a fantastic ass," Stiles said, taking a handful and squeezing it.
"I have a fantastic everything," Derek murmured back, taking his hands and pushing Stiles's legs further apart. Derek arranged himself so that he fit within the cradle of Stiles's body and their leaking cocks were perfectly aligned. Derek caught Stiles in a wet, filthy kiss as he rocked them together.
Before the pleasure became too much, Derek stopped and slipped down Stiles's body spreading his thighs wide. "Come back," Stiles whined, reaching out and grabbing at Derek, trying to pull him back up.
"Relax, Stiles. Trust me, I'm gonna make sure you get what you need," Derek soothed. He used the tip of his tongue to trace Stiles's happy trail and swirled it around in his belly button before going lower. Stiles thought that he was going to be on the receiving end of another blow job but Derek surprised him by placing a sharp bite on his inner thigh. Stiles jerked and swore at the sensation and Derek chuckled before diving back down and running the flat of his tongue between Stiles's cheeks.
"Omigod omigod omigod omigod that is rimming," Stiles gasped. "You are rimming me. Rimming is an actual thing that is happening to me right now and you are doing it omigod Derek," Stiles babbled. Stiles's blood heated and arousal pooled low in his belly at the idea of Derek doing something so intimate to him.
Derek pulled back and looked at Stiles, his expression thoughtful but then he gave Stiles an almost feral grin, and spread Stiles's cheeks apart to hold him open and began rimming him in earnest.
It was almost as if Derek had decided to fill in all the blanks in Stiles's sexual history in one scorching hot night. Rimming was a thing that had never even been on the table with Ian, except for his assurance that Stiles could "eat his ass" if Stiles wanted but he wasn't going to be returning the favor.
Upon further reflection Stiles realized their entire relationship had been like that. Stiles had done a lot of things for Ian that Ian had refused to do for Stiles, in and out of bed. After just a few hours with Derek, Stiles had begun to realize just how unbalanced and unhealthy his relationship had really been.
As Derek pressed the tip of his tongue past the tight ring of muscle Stiles lost all ability to remember Ian's name or even his own. The only thing Stiles could think about was Derek and the things Derek was doing to his body. He desperately sought out more but Derek's iron grip kept him firmly in place as Derek proved once again just how talented his tongue was.
Derek made him feel even better than Stiles had imagined he would. Derek's tongue was filthy and greedily lapped at Stiles's entrance. It made Stiles shudder with want and ache with arousal but Stiles needed more. He wanted to be stretched out and filled full. He wanted to feel Derek push his cock into him and then fuck him hard and fast, until he couldn't remember his own name just like Derek had promised he would.
"Fuck me," Stiles begged his voice raw, wrecked and pleading. "Please Derek. C'mon, fuck me. You promised, you promised just please, please fuck me," Stiles whined, clawing frantically at the sheets as he rode Derek's tongue.
Derek gave one more broad stripe of his tongue over Stiles's hole before crawling his way back up, leaning over Stiles and caging him in with his body. "All you had to do was ask," Derek whispered, biting down on Stiles throat and sucking hard until the skin turned a livid, angry red. "How do you want it? I can give it to you like this," Derek said, punctuating his words with a slow grind of his hips, "Or I can put you on your hands and knees and take you," he said, his voice low and gravelly, before biting down on Stiles's throat again and sucking a matching bruise onto the other side.
Stiles had always imagined that when he had sex it would be face to face, slow, gentle lovemaking but that wasn't what he wanted from Derek. There was something in Derek's voice when he'd talked about taking Stiles on his hands and knees that had Stiles craving a good, hard fucking like his lungs craved air.
"Take me," Stiles whispered. "Do what you promised and just fucking take me," Stiles repeated forcefully.
"Needy and bossy," Derek teased before suddenly flipping Stiles over. The ease at which Derek accomplished it had Stiles open mouthed in shock and eager with anticipation. Derek had clearly been restraining himself and Stiles was anxious to find out just how much strength lurked inside Derek's powerful frame.
Stiles trembled and squirmed, unable to hold still as Derek leaned over to open a drawer in the nightstand. A second later Derek's weight returned, hot and heavy over his back and Stiles heard the unmistakable click of lube being opened and then shuddered as a cold, slick wetness slid between his cheeks before Derek slowly pushed a finger inside him.
"Could have warmed it up first," Stiles complained but his voice sounded thready and strained to his own ears and lacked its usual snark.
"Couldn't wait to get something of myself back inside you," Derek explained, dropping an apologetic kiss to Stiles's ass and then playfully biting down on one cheek. Stiles yelped indignantly to which Derek responded by taking a bite out of the other.
"I'll take biting kink for a thousand Alex," Stiles groaned as Derek pressed his finger in up to the second knuckle.
"You like it," Derek said confidently as he slid his finger the rest of the way in. "You look so good like this," he rasped. "You're so tight and hot. Bet I could make you come just like this. Get you off with my hands and then when you're all loose and relaxed, just slide inside and give you more. But that's not what you want, is it Stiles?" Derek said as he stroked in and back and worked his finger deeper into Stiles. "And don't lie to me, because I'll know. Tell me, do you want me to make you come right now?"
"Nuh uh," Stiles panted unable to deny the truth. He wanted to come but he wanted to be wrapped around Derek's cock when it happened.
"Good boy," Derek praised, briefly removing his finger before adding more lube, warming it up and slipping a second finger inside alongside the first. "I'm not gonna touch your cock," Derek told him, glancing at where it hung heavy and hard and leaking. "But you're going to come for me anyway. You're going to come from just my cock, aren't you baby?"
Stiles made a strangled noise in the back of his throat and nodded. "Yeah, yeah I'll come for you. I'll do anything for you," Stiles moaned.
"You have no idea how true that is," Derek whispered into Stile's ear as he crooked his fingers. "You're mine, Stiles. You were mine before I ever even touched you. You've been mine ever since you stepped into Howl. Didn't even know it, did you baby? But your body knew, yielded to me the minute I touched you. Now the rest of you knows it too," Derek said twisting his fingers inside Stiles and stretching him out before drizzling on more lube and adding a third finger.
Somewhere in the back of Stiles's sex addled brain warning bells sounded. Stiles may have never had one before but he was pretty sure that the things Derek had said weren't the type of dirty talk typical of a one night stand. Part of Stiles wanted to shut this shit down right the fuck now before he ended up chained to Derek's bed as some sort of sex slave.
The other part of Stiles was strangely okay with ending up chained to Derek's bed as some sort of sex slave.
Derek licked up Stiles's spine and then slid one hand around his body and up to his throat, not pressing down, just holding it there.
Like a promise.
Stiles rocked back onto Derek's fingers, trying to force them deeper, put them where he wanted them. "C'mon, c'mon, c'mon," he begged. "I'm ready. You can fuck me now. I'm ready, Derek, c'mon." Stiles had been pulled apart piece by piece, completely deconstructed by Derek's touch and Derek's voice and he needed Derek to put him back together.
"You're not ready yet," Derek told him calmly before licking, sucking, and biting a pattern of bruises over the back of Stiles's neck and into his shoulders. "But you're almost there."
Stiles almost howled in frustration at Derek's refusal to hurry up and fuck him already but before he could be even more demanding Derek's fingers pushed a little harder and rubbed across his prostate.
"Oh shit," Stiles grunted as his cock twitched and leaked. He closed his eyes and clenched around the fingers in his ass.
A sharp smack and a sudden blooming of pain shocked Stiles's attention off of his imminent orgasm. "That's not my cock," Derek said, reminding Stiles of his earlier instructions. "I should make you beg," Derek said roughly. "I should wait until you're broken, pleading and begging like a bitch in heat, just to remind you that I'm the one in charge here, that I'm the one who knows what you need and when you need it. But I won't do that…this time," Derek said withdrawing his fingers, slicking himself up and then wiping the excess lube on the sheets.
"N-not your bitch, bitch," Stiles stuttered and got another hard smack on his opposite cheek for his troubles. Under the flare of heat and the bright spot of pain, Stiles felt his cock harden even further but when he turned to glare at Derek over his shoulder the older man just smirked and squeezed his hips in warning.
"Gonna fuck you now," Derek told Stiles a half second before Stiles felt the blunt head of Derek's hard cock teasing his entrance. "I'm going put my cock in you, make you call out my name and beg me for more. I'm going to wreck you, Stiles. I'm going to write my name across your skin in bruises and bite marks and show you things that you've only dreamt about," Derek promised him.
"Yeah, t-that's good," Stiles said, nodding his head. "C-can we do that now?"
"Yeah we can do that now," Derek soothed him, petting Stiles gently down his sides. "I need you to breathe and relax," Derek instructed him. "I promise not to let it hurt."
Stiles nodded frantically and felt Derek push into him slowly. An insistent gentle pressure opened him up and stretched him out as Derek slid inside him an inch at a time until he was fully seated. Once he had completely entered him Derek held still.
Stiles was trapped in conflicting sensations of pleasure and pain. As much as he had wanted-still wanted-Derek to take him hard and fast, it hurt. Part of him wanted to tell Derek to stop, to take it out and run from the pain. There was another part of Stiles however, and the part of him that had let Derek suck him off back at Howl and enjoyed knowing that he was going to be bruised and sore and marked when he woke up in the morning wanted nothing more than to push back against the pleasure.
Before Stiles could make up his mind, the pain dulled and then seemed to ebb away entirely, leaving behind only toe curling pleasure. "Move, move, Derek you can move," Stiles moaned brokenly.
Stiles wanted Derek to start making good on the promises he'd made him and Derek seemed to read his mind because he pulled out of Stiles nearly completely before slamming back in with enough force to inch Stiles up on the mattress and nearly make him topple over. Stiles cried out and his hands scrabbled for purchase on sheets as Derek draped himself completely over his body and fucked into Stiles with hard, deep strokes. "Fuck! Yes, yes, just like that don't stop, don't stop," Stiles begged. Stiles worried that in the cold light of day he might be embarrassed by the way he was literally begging for Derek's dick but in the here and now he just couldn't be bothered to care, not when it meant that Derek kept fucking him.
Derek groaned, his hips rolling forward viciously as he pounded into Stiles. "You're so good for me," Derek grunted into Stiles's ear. "You're taking it so good. You're so open and so fucking needy and wet. This is all for me, just for me, isn't it Stiles?"
"Just you, only you," Stiles agreed, squeezing his eyes shut and biting his lip as he tried to keep from coming. "Derek, please, please let me come. I need to come," he whined.
Derek didn't answer but the next snap of his hips hit Stiles's prostate dead on and had Stiles folding forward, shoulders hitting the mattress leaving his ass up in the air. Stiles clawed at the sheets, bunching up a handful of the fabric and shoving it into his mouth to muffle the sounds of his cries. Derek took advantage of the new position and drove into Stiles relentlessly, holding him in place, forcing him to take every thick inch of his length, nails digging into the tender flesh of his hips just a hair's breadth from breaking skin. Stiles felt a bit better about his embarrassing sex noises because Derek sounded wild, feral and almost animal as he thrust inside him, keeping Stiles on the edge but never letting him fall over.
Derek kept thrusting. Harder, deeper, giving Stiles what he wanted, what they both needed. "Gonna keep you just like this," Derek grunted. "You were made for this, made for me. I'm gonna keep you, Stiles. Gonna spend my days making you happy, keeping you safe and my nights keeping you open and full and begging," Derek moaned.
Stiles went nearly cross-eyed from the pleasure of Derek inside him, Derek's body on top of him, Derek's hands marking his skin, and Derek's voice in his ear promising to make all his filthiest secret fantasies come true. Stiles thought sex with Derek would be enough to drive anyone insane and Stiles was no exception. Stiles was so far beyond insanity, by now he was ready to bite and scream and beg until the sky came falling down as long as Derek kept fucking him.
Derek stretched out on top of Stiles, nipping and licking at the back of Stiles's neck, along his jawline and under his ear.
"Derek," Stiles keened. His entire world reduced to nothing more than Derek's cock, rocking in and out of his body. Stiles was torn between humping the mattress to get some friction on his dick or pushing himself back onto Derek's cock. He managed small, aborted jerks forward and back, nearly crying for relief. "Derek, please. Please, please, please, god damn you let me come please."
Derek began thrusting harder and faster, forcing increasingly desperate and obscene sounds from Stiles's lips. Stiles felt every drag of Derek inside him, every slick slide of Derek's cock as he pushed inside of him. Stiles felt so full and when Derek changed the angle of his thrusts so that he hit Stiles's prostrate with every stroke Stiles surrendered completely and fucking wailed from the need to come and the pleasure of it all.
"It's okay Stiles, you can come now. Let go, I'll take care of you," Derek encouraged, recognizing that Stiles had reached his limits. He bit down harshly on the back of Stiles's neck and ruthlessly dragged the mushroom head of his cock over Stiles's prostate as he pushed Stiles over the edge.
Stiles flew apart. It felt like he fragmented into tiny pieces as he screamed Derek's name and the edges of his vision turned white as he came, hot and hard, at his lovers command. He quaked and cursed as his orgasm seemed to go on forever, locking down tight around Derek's body as wave after wave of pleasure rolled through him.
"So good, just like I knew you'd be. Fuck you're amazing. Take it so good, take it all, that's it Stiles," Derek groaned. When he felt Stiles grow impossibly tighter around him as he came Derek stopped holding back. He hauled Stiles up, one hand on his hip and the other gently circling his throat and bit Stiles again as he snapped his hips up and in, his rhythm becoming erratic as he followed Stiles over the edge, and shook with the intensity of his climax as he shot thick and deep inside of Stiles's still clenching hole.
Stiles felt as if he were floating. His mind had gone completely blank and he felt sated and satisfied in a way that he hadn't known was possible. Derek leaned over Stiles for a few beats before slowly pulling out and pressing a chaste kiss into Stiles's temple. Derek wrapped his arms around Stiles's waist and guided them down onto the bed, situating them away from the worst of the wet spot and dragging Stiles close to the sweaty, heavy mass of his body.
Stiles stayed uncharacteristically silent as he tried to wrap his head around the events of the evening and pull himself together. He'd gone out with the intention of finding adventure but instead he'd found Derek and now that he'd had him Stiles didn't know how to go back to his life without him in it.
Derek had managed to open Stiles up to new experiences and a show him a side of himself that he hadn't even known existed. Derek was intriguing and confident, gorgeous and smart and had a wickedly dry sense of humor that Stiles enjoyed. He had made Stiles feel safe, sexy and above all else wanted and Stiles really didn't want to give Derek up but he knew he needed to be realistic. Despite the things that Derek had said about keeping him and Stiles being his, Stiles knew better than to put stock in what a man said when his dick was calling the shots. He knew that the next night Derek would be back at Howl, looking for another pretty distraction to take home and Stiles would be just a pleasant memory.
The idea that Derek could so easily replace him hurt more than it should have.
Stiles had tried to shake off what had happened with Ian. He'd known their relationship had been far from perfect and that most of his friends-and even his father-had been relieved when it was over but being dumped, especially over a text as if Stiles didn't even deserve any more consideration than that, had shaken Stiles to his core. He'd never felt so disrespected and disregarded, as if he didn't matter, didn't count and was completely worthless. He didn't admit it to Lydia or even Scott but he'd cried, just once he'd allowed himself the comfort of shedding a few hot, salty tears while he wondered what was so wrong with him that Ian had found it so easy to leave him behind. What was so bad about him that he wasn't worth waiting for? Ian had knocked a big, gaping hole in his self-esteem and Stiles had struggled for the last three months to fill it back in.
"I told you earlier whatever you're thinking you're wrong," Derek's voice pulled him out of his thoughts. Stiles buried his face in the space between Derek's neck and his shoulder and refused to make eye contact. "Do you want to talk about it?" Derek asked.
Stiles shook his head. "I'm good man. I'm golden. That was…whoa. Just um…give me a couple minutes and I'll be out of your hair. I'd appreciate it if you'd do me a solid and let me borrow your shower? Maybe call me a cab while I'm in there to take me back to Howl so I can get my jeep?" Stiles said, his voice progressively growing smaller until it was barely audible.
Derek gently tugged Stiles's face out of its hiding place. "Do you want to leave, Stiles?"
Stiles resolutely avoided eye contact. "Hey man, I know how these things go okay? Guy meets guy under dubious circumstances in slightly more dubious club, guy takes guy home, orgasms are had and then queue the walk of shame as everybody goes their separate ways."
"As much as I enjoyed Story Time with Stiles that's not what I asked you," Derek said patiently. "So we're going to try this again: Do you want to leave, Stiles?"
"Do you want me to stay," Stiles asked sidestepping the question.
"Stiles," Derek repeated firmly. "Do you want to leave?"
Stiles shook his head. "Leaving is kind of on my top ten list of things to never do. Its number one actually, which is kind of a big deal because I have tell dad the truth about how Scott and I actually broke the coffee table, accuse Lydia of coloring her hair and take back my douchebag ex on that list so it's pretty hardcore."
"Sounds like an interesting list. And Stiles, if you don't want to leave then don't leave." Derek said.
"It can't be that simple," Stiles argued.
"It really is," Derek argued back. "You don't want to leave and I don't want you to. Its only complicated if you make it that way."
"This is such bad one night stand etiquette," Stiles complained. "I had a plan. I'd use my fake I.D. to sneak into Howl, meet some hot person willing to let me have sex with them and then hightail it out of whatever no-tell motel or sketchy apartment complex I ended up at before my dad got home in the morning."
"I really don't know what to say about that plan."
"Don't diss the plan," Stiles warned Derek. "It was an excellent plan and I totally rocked it."
"Except for part where you didn't sneak in so much as have pity taken on you for due to your horrible your fake I.D. and appalling lack of stealth, my loft isn't in the red light district, and this isn't a one night stand," Derek listed for him.
"I notice you didn't have anything to say about my finding a hot person to hook up with," Stiles smiled.
"Well, you did get something right," Derek admitted smugly.
"No need to be humble or anything," Stiles snorted.
"Brat," Derek gently admonished with a playful swat to Stiles's backside.
Stiles retaliated by biting down Derek's shoulder. He frowned slightly when the resulting red mark faded almost as soon as it appeared but shrugged it off and glared at Derek. "If we're gonna do this thing we gotta negotiate some of these kinks of yours."
Derek pinned Stiles with a heated look and arched an eyebrow. "Kinks of mine?" he questioned pointedly.
Stiles flushed. "Fine, kinks of ours," he conceded. "Ass." Stiles added after a moment. He shifted restlessly. "I totally need to shower."
"I'll clean you up later. Just lie here with me right now. Love the way you smell," Derek said, as he trailed his fingers through Stiles's sweat soaked hair. "And I love the way you taste," he added, bringing Stiles's fingers up to his mouth and nipping gently.
"Freaking weirdo," Stiles said playfully. "You're like kinka-pa-looza, man."
"But you like it," Derek said knowingly.
"Yeah, but I'm not exactly the poster boy for normality so that's not saying much," Stiles mumbled.
"You're perfect," Derek insisted. "And I plan to spend an awful lot of time showing you just how perfect I think you are," Derek murmured as Stiles snuggled sleepily into his chest.
As he surrendered to exhaustion the last coherent thought that Stiles had was yes.
Six Months Later
The absolute last person that Stiles expected to run into at Howl was Ian. Objectively he knew that he'd see his ex eventually after Ian had flunked out of UCLA and come home to Beacon Hills in order to lick his wounds, but Stiles had hoped to put off their reunion for as long as possible. He'd been dodging Ian's calls and ignoring his messages for the last month, going so far as to park his baby in the garage lest Ian see her in the driveway and decide to pop by for a visit. Stiles had no idea why the universe decided it hated him tonight but he did know that he needed to get away from the bar and back to Derek's office before Ian noticed him.
Stiles has just backed up, not at all conspicuously despite what the look Boyd threw him implied, and was a short distance away from sweet, sweet freedom when a deep, familiar voice called out over the music "Stiles? Hey, Sty! Sty?!"
And yep, that was a hand around his wrist dragging him back to the bar. A hand that was not Derek's. Ian's hand, Ian's hand that, judging by the disapproving look on Boyd's face and the apocalyptic one on Laura's just might end up severed if Stiles didn't get it off his person. Stiles tensed and his mind committed some sort of time skip that took him back to the years of impatient mocking and casual indifference that had been the hallmarks of his relationship with Ian. Stiles's shook off the haze of mostly unpleasant memories and tried to pull free but Ian had an iron grip on him and wouldn't let go.
Ian dragged his eyes over the length of Stiles's body and Stiles grimaced a little when Ian licked his lips. Derek had dressed Stiles that night and Stiles knew he looked good in his tight black leather pants and red fishnet t-shirt but Ian's hungry gaze was as unwelcome and unwanted as the nickname he'd always insisted on calling Stiles by despite the fact that Stiles had let him know- several times- that Stiles was a nickname and he hated being called 'Sty'.
"I've been trying to get in touch with you ever since I got home, Sty. Imagine my surprise meeting up with you here. You look…different," Ian leered.
"Blame my boyfriend," Stiles said making sure he stressed the word. "He's been keeping me pretty busy and he's the one responsible for all this," Stiles gestured to his outfit while trying to pull his arm free.
Stiles chanced a look over Ian's shoulder and his eyes widened in panic as he noticed Laura had seemingly lost her patience with the situation and was headed towards them. By the time he tore his eyes away from the frightening sight of an angry Laura, Boyd had stepped out from behind the bar and materialized by his side. Boyd cleared his throat and stared pointedly at the spot where Ian still held firm to Stiles's wrist.
"You're gonna want to let him go," Boyd stated calmly.
Ian looked Boyd up and down and then sneered at him. "You the boyfriend?"
"Nope," Boyd said. "And you have no idea how lucky you are that I'm not."
"Is that right," Ian challenged, tightening his grip on Stiles.
"Let go Ian," Stiles snapped, trying to pull free once more. He grabbed the pinky finger on Ian's free hand and squeezed. "I seriously don't want to dislocate your finger but I will. Let. Go. We're over. We've been over. I unfriended you on Facebook and everything."
"What Stiles and Boyd are trying to tell you," Laura cut in, her voice sharp like a razor and sticky sweet like honey, "Is that Stiles doesn't have anything to say to you, he doesn't want anything to do with you and unless you're as stupid as you look, you're gonna take your hands off him and walk out of here before you have a lifetime of eating your meals through a straw to look forward to."
"Oh c'mon guys," Stiles complained. "This entire situation is taking on a whole damsel in distress vibe and I think it needs to be noted for future reference that I'm no damsel. I got this. I can totally handle this."
"Of course you can," Derek said, as he appeared from out of fucking nowhere. "But you shouldn't have to." Ian gave Stiles a venomous look, as if Stiles were to blame for the clusterfuck going on around them and Stiles didn't even the chance to respond to that before Derek took a half step forward and Ian dropped Stiles's wrist like he'd been burned.
Stiles let go of Ian and unconsciously rubbed on the sore skin of his freed wrist which turned out to be the exact wrong thing to do. At the sight of Stiles's reddened skin Boyd clenched his fists and Laura gave Ian a look that left no doubt that she was in the process of planning his murder but Derek? Derek looked as if he planned to pull Ian's still beating heart out of his chest.
Derek put his arm around Stiles and drew him to his side and placed one very chaste, deliberate kiss to the side of Stiles's head. Ian's face hardened but before he could say anything to dig himself in any deeper Derek gave Ian a smile that looked a whole lot more like baring his teeth than it did an attempt at being friendly and began talking.
"Here's what's going happen Ian," Derek said, ice cold smile on his lips and fire in his eyes. "You're going to apologize to Stiles. You're going to apologize to him for being a shit boyfriend and for putting your hands on him without his permission. Then you're going to apologize to me for putting your hands on him, because I don't like it when other people put their hands on Stiles. After that you're going to leave, you're never going to come back and while you're gone, you're not going to call Stiles. You're not going to speak to him. You're not going to speak about him. If you see him on the street, you're going to cross over to the other side and keep walking. You aren't going to bother his dad and you aren't going to bother his friends. What you are going to do is forget that he even exists because if you don't disappear voluntarily, I'm just going to have to make you. And I can do that. In fact, I know several people who would love to help me do that," Derek said, pausing while Erica and Isaac took up positions next to Boyd and Laura gripped Ian's shoulder in a hold so painful that he collapsed down onto one knee.
Derek released Stiles, stepped forward, slipped two fingers under Ian's chin and tipped his head up so they made eye contact before he continued. "Ian, if I make you disappear," Derek said his voice cold and hard, "I promise you, you won't be found. Are we clear?"
Ian paled and then scrambled to his feet and began spitting out assurances and apologies before tripping over himself running for the exit.
"I'd like to take this moment to address a couple of things," Stiles said into the ensuing silence. "First, Laura you have got to teach me how to do that."
"It's a gift," Laura shrugged.
"Uh huh. Whatever. But seriously guys, I may not be built like a brick wall or have super secret ninja powers but I am not the damsel," Stiles insisted.
"You keep telling yourself that Little Red," Derek murmured as he went to kiss Stiles.
"Also, have no idea why you guys insist on calling me that ridiculous nickname," Stiles continued. "You do realize if I'm Little Red that makes you the Big Bad Wolf?" Stiles told Derek.
Derek gave him a wolfish smile as he nodded. "I'm aware," Derek whispered before capturing Stiles's lips in a heated kiss.