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The One Where Stiles Rocks at Sex

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Stiles wakes up with his face mashed against hot skin. He lies still and performs his usual morning check-in as his brain comes online. He’s in Derek’s bed, hence the smooth muscled back that he’s drooling against. Fuck--adrenalin spikes for a moment--does he need to get up for school? No. It’s definitely a Sunday. Awesome.

He closes his eyes and drifts for a little while, not really aware of how much time is passing. His senses are filled with Derek, the thud of his heart, the warmth of his skin, their mingled scents in the bed around them--cock and ass and come from the night before. It's much sexier than Stiles thinks it probably should be, but being with Derek has taught Stiles to appreciate his sense of smell. It might not be as sensitive as Derek’s but he’s more aware of it now than he ever was before he started dating a werewolf.

Stiles is just starting to doze again, slipping in and out of consciousness, when Derek mumbles and stirs. He presses back, pushing his ass into the hard ache of Stiles' morning wood and mutters something unintelligible. Stiles smiles and runs a lazy hand down Derek's flank, feeling the hard planes of muscle and bone under the smooth softness of Derek's skin. Derek arches into the touch and makes a low rumbling sound, more of a growl than a purr, but Stiles knows what the sound means. He lets his hand slip further down, resting on Derek's hip for a moment and feeling for that perfect little dip of smooth skin between hip bone and groin with his fingertips. Derek pushes back again and Stiles' cock twitches in response.

Stiles presses slow, sleepy kisses against Derek's shoulders and spine, stretching up to nuzzle into the short scratchy hairs at the nape of Derek's neck where his scent is strong. A scrape of his teeth there elicits another growl of approval from Derek. Stiles loves it when Derek’s like this. Relaxed and pliant, eager to be fucked, but letting Stiles take his time.

Morning sex is the best.

But Stiles' dick isn’t very good at waiting. He moves his hips, letting it slide into the crack of Derek's ass where it fits perfectly. He thrusts, long and slow, sliding up the cleft. Derek whimpers.

“Stiles.” His voice is husky with sleep, but there's a needy edge that sends a fresh pulse of blood to Stiles' cock, making it throb.

Derek shifts, bending a knee and slides his top leg up, opening himself up for Stiles like a gift. “Fuck, Derek,” Stiles breathes, thrusting into the crack between the cheeks of Derek's arse again. It's hot and still slippery from the night before. Stiles could just come like this if he let himself. But Derek clearly wants more.

“That's the general idea, yes.” Derek definitely sounds impatient now, and that's no good. Impatience doesn't go with lazy morning sex.

Stiles would never have imagined that Derek would love to be fucked like he does. Before they were together, Stiles’ fantasies had always involved Derek dominating him. Derek holding Stiles down and fucking him like the almost-animal that he is, taking and claiming and overwhelming Stiles with his superior strength. And it’s not that they don’t do it like that sometimes--because hell yes, they do, and it’s amazing and they both totally get off on that dynamic--but there’s just so much more to Derek as a lover than Stiles would ever have thought. Who would have known that Derek Hale loves taking it up the ass? That he loves being fucked sweet and slow until he’s sobbing and writhing on Stiles’ cock with the need for release.

Stiles draws back, breaking the contact for a moment and Derek whines; but then Stiles' fingers are there instead of his cock, feeling for Derek's hole. It's soft and still a little stretched from where Stiles fucked him last night. He'd opened Derek up with his tongue and his fingers until Derek had flipped Stiles onto his back. He'd fucked himself on Stiles' cock until they both came. Derek all over Stiles, and Stiles deep in Derek’s ass. Derek had licked Stiles clean before they’d collapsed, exhausted and sunk into sleep.

Stiles circles Derek’s rim with the pad of his thumb, feeling the warm sticky wetness of lube and his come where it’s been slipping out of Derek as he slept.

Derek’s hole pulses and opens against the gentle pressure, and Stiles lets his thumb slip into the slick, grasping heat. He fucks it in and out, and the sounds that it makes are obscene. “God,” he mutters, moving down the bed so that he can see what he’s doing to Derek. “Oh my god, that’s so dirty. You’re so fucking ready for me.” Derek groans, face pressed into a pillow and his muscles flutter around Stiles’ thumb as he clenches. “So fucking hot,” Stiles can’t stop himself, his mouth running off as he stares at the puffy, pink rim of Derek’s hole as he pushes in and out in a slow but relentless rhythm. He settles himself, sprawled across one of Derek’s legs and unashamedly grinds his erection against Derek’s calf. The hairs scratch deliciously against the sensitive crown and stick to the pre-come that’s leaking out of him.

Stiles gets both hands up now and eases his other thumb in alongside the first, gripping Derek’s buttocks with his hands and holding him open. Derek tenses a little as Stiles’ second thumb stretches him tight. He makes a high pitched whine and Stiles pauses, letting him adjust.

“It’s okay,” Derek bites out. “Just do it.”

So Stiles does it and Derek hisses and moans, pushing back against the pressure. “You’re so good, Derek.” Stiles kisses and licks at the fuzz of Derek’s ass cheeks between the words. “So fucking hot. So sexy like this.” He pulls back to see better again and moves his thumbs apart just a little, admiring the dark space between as he opens Derek wide. “Fuck Derek. I want to be inside you, want to fuck you. Do you want that, baby?”

“Baby, really?” Stiles can hear the raised eyebrows of judginess even though can’t see them.

“Whatever.” Stiles huffs out a breathless chuckle. “You like the dirty talk; you have to put up with whatever you get unless you write me a script. Now do you want my dick in you or not?” He lets his thumbs slip almost all the way out and then pushes them in deeper, as far as they’ll go.

Fuck... yes.” Derek’s voice is rough around the edges, and his hot skin is damp with sweat under Stiles’ palms. “Please, fuck me.”

“I love it when you ask me so nicely.” Stiles nips at a buttock, sucking a mark to the surface before finally letting his thumbs slide free with a wet sound.

Derek moans as they leave him empty. He rolls completely onto his belly now, spreading his legs and tilting his hips up for Stiles. He looks so fucking beautiful like that, his powerful body open and waiting for Stiles to fill it up. Stiles just looks for a moment, running his hands lightly up from the small of Derek’s back to his shoulders and back down in sweeping strokes.

Stiles.” Derek’s voice holds a warning and Stiles knows that his patience is wearing thin. Teasing is fun but Stiles wants in that ass too. He grips his cock and jacks it a couple of times, smearing the slickness down his shaft. Derek’s still wet enough from the night before that they won’t need more lube.

He lines up and pushes in with one long, delicious slide into that slippery tightness. He grips Derek’s hips and squeezes them hard, moaning at the feeling of his cock being surrounded and gripped by Derek’s body. Derek moans too, higher and more breathless than Stiles’ sounds. He always sounds so desperate when he’s being fucked. Stiles needs to hear more of it, so he tightens his hold on Derek’s hips and starts to move. Derek moves too, pushing back to meet him, fucking himself on Stiles’ cock as Stiles thrusts into him, slowly at first as they find their rhythm.

Derek’s impatience is evident again as he tries to speed things up, growling his frustration as Stiles refuses to be rushed. Stiles leans forward, lying on top of Derek and pressing him down with the weight of his body. He knows that Derek could throw him off in a heartbeat but it doesn’t make it feel any less good to cover him like this, to pin his arms over his head and lick the sweat from the nape of his neck and seek out his lips as Derek turns his head, greedy for Stiles’ mouth. They kiss, slow and dirty, and the wet sounds of their mouths and the gentle squeak of the bedsprings are all that Stiles can hear as he rocks into Derek, fucking him into the mattress.

Stiles finally breaks away from Derek’s lips and trails a line of biting, sucking kisses down his neck and across his shoulders. Derek loves to be bitten, each new mark that Stiles raises with his teeth and suction has Derek groaning and arching against the slow drag of Stiles’ cock inside him.

More,” he rasps out. “Harder, faster. Come on.”

Harder and faster sounds good. Stiles has been working on his stamina but it’s still not the best, and he was ready to come about five minutes ago. He’s only staved it off by going slow. Sometimes, still, when he fucks Derek, Stiles ends up coming first--the combination of teenage excitement and Derek Hale hotness makes holding back a challenge. But Derek doesn’t care, he’s always happy for Stiles to finish him off with his mouth on Derek’s dick and two or three fingers in his ass.

Stiles peels himself off Derek and kneels back, taking Derek with him, lifting his hips away from the mattress until he’s kneeling too. Derek’s supporting himself with one arm on the mattress while the other hand is under his body, working furiously at his cock. Stiles slams into him in earnest now, giving Derek what he needs. Each thrust knocks a harsh cry from Derek’s lips; it’s just sounds without words, but to Stiles it feels like he’s begging for more, more, more. Stiles’ heart is pounding, breath coming in gasps, but he keeps going. His balls draw up and start to tingle and he can feel the hot build of his orgasm surging, so close now.

“Fuck, Derek... gonna come. Can’t wait much longer...”

But Derek beats him to it, coming with a howl as his body goes rigid, ass clenching around Stiles and Stiles is done. He climaxes in shuddering, jerky thrusts, spilling into Derek as Derek milks every last drop out of him.

When he finishes, Stiles collapses over Derek, leaning his weight on the broad back beneath him and thanking fuck for supernatural werewolf strength, because his whole body feels like jello, and there’s no way that he can move until he’s got his breath back.

“Oh my god, that was awesome.” Stiles murmurs. Derek’s skin is hot beneath his cheek, the pounding of his heart loud in Stiles’ ear. “I totally rock at sex. We totally rock at sex. We should be fucking for America in the Olympics or something.” Derek’s chuckle vibrates through him.

Stiles reluctantly unsticks himself from Derek’s sweaty back. He can’t resist watching as he pulls carefully out of Derek, holding Derek’s cheeks apart so he can see the mess he made as his wet cock slips free.

“You’re filthy,” he tells Derek, slapping his ass. “Shower?”

“Yeah. Then food.” Derek rolls over, flopping onto his back. “But first, this.” He reaches for Stiles and pulls him down, parting Stiles’ lips with his tongue and kissing him thoroughly. Stiles’ whole body tingles with the warmth of the kiss, from his scalp where Derek’s hand holds him in place, to his toes where they tangle with Derek’s at the foot of the bed.

When Derek finally releases him, Stiles rolls off him, dazed, only to yelp when his back hits the cooling wet patch on the sheets.

“Maybe you need to do laundry too.” He grimaces as Derek gets up and walks naked toward the door.

Derek pauses, turns and shrugs, pale green eyes innocent as he replies. “But then the bed will smell all wrong.”

“Not for long.” Stiles grins. “If I know you--and me. And I think I do.”