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I'm Just Giving In

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It happens by accident, Stiles is just driving on the street where Derek lives, on his way to the gas station that normally has the lowest prices. One minute he’s debating whether or not to buy a pack of Reese’s, and the next his mind goes blank (which let’s face it, is something that almost never happens). When he drives by Derek’s loft, Derek is following a nice looking dude out into the parking lot, and Stiles catches them kissing as he passes. He almost slams the brakes, almost. But somehow manages to keep going, with his eyes glued to the mirror. He slows down just a little bit and manages to see Derek waving at the dude as he drives of. Derek has this little smile on his face, just the edges of his lips going up and he looks… content. And as the gas station is in view Stiles realizes that he would never have thought he would use that word about Derek.


Life goes on. They run into the same kind of trouble as they normally do. And normal in Beacon Hills consists of a succubus and a few witches. Must be Tuesday.

Stiles almost forget about what he saw that day, driving to the gas station. Almost manages to not remember how many times that scene has played before his eyes. Can almost make himself believe that he hasn’t used that short look of how Derek smiles when he is content to get himself off a couple of times. He just has a hard time not imagining that that is how Derek would look in the bed, with the sheets all messy around him, flushed and spend, after Stiles were done with him. Which, whoa, where did that thought come from..? Stiles has fought very hard at not letting thoughts about Derek creep up on him. No reason at all to make matters worse for himself. Being surrounded by werewolves makes it hard to self-indulge. Even if the indulgence is feelings.

But come on, Stiles has eyes in his head. It is simply not possible not to notice on some level the way the Henley stretch over Derek’s biceps. Or how his thighs flex when he is poised for a fight. Or the color of his eyes when he isn’t all wolfed-out.  

Stiles isn’t blind. But he isn’t stupid either. Which is why he has never really allowed himself to think about it. Ignores when images of a broad back with a swirling tattoo comes up at… inconvenient times.  But that smile… It did something to him. Stiles can’t explain it. It’s just really hard not to think about. Really hard to forget. And ignore.


Stiles is at Jungle. And he knows, okay. He knows what a fucking bad idea this is. He knows he should just turn the other way and focus on the guy grinding his ass into him. If he could just close his eyes he would be able to give himself over to the feeling of touch, heat and rhythm of the dance floor. It should be easy to just be in the moment and focus on the awesome way this guy is making him feel.

But the thing is that Derek is standing by the bar. He hasn’t even noticed Stiles and he is hitting on some guy. It’s not like Stiles doesn’t know that Derek sleeps around. Everybody knows that. Everybody also knows that he’s just a one-night-stand-type-of-guy.  But as Stiles is just beginning to realize, there is quite a difference between knowing and seeing.

Stiles can’t help but stare at Derek’s hand casually placed low on the back of this guy, low enough to almost be indecent. Derek is standing close, so close that he is talking directly into the guy’s ear. Derek is smiling, being charming. And it is obviously working. Then, then, Derek licks the ear. Just a barely there touch of the tongue along the bridge of the ear. The guy shutters. And Stiles is hard. Harder than he can remember he has ever been. The guy grinding into him seems encouraged by this, and reach back to grab his hips and grinds harder. But Stiles almost doesn’t notice.

As Derek and unknown-fucking-lucky-guy is leaving, Stiles can’t help but think about that small look of tongue, and he knows he is ruined. He shouldn’t even think about Derek like that, he really shouldn’t. And just to distract himself he lets grinding-guy blow him in the bathroom of the club, while trying really hard (and failing) not to think about Derek’s tongue.


Stiles tries to forget. He does all the things that normally work for him when he wants to push something to the back of his mind and forget about it. He buries himself in school work and researching, takes up running, he goes out with his friends a lot, and generally puts himself out there. He dates, a random line of attractive girls and boys, and he fucks around some. It never stops to amaze him how easy dating and sex has become for him. It seems that once he stopped worrying about it (everything else just stops being big when you’re worried about dying constantly), everybody started noticing him. He just doesn’t know how many times he has heard the comment: “You grew up nice.” And he knows that he has, his shoulders are broader and his chest and arms have filled out. He’s even had to buy new T-shirts as the old ones just didn’t fit anymore. But he knows that he didn’t really grow up nice. He’s fucked up from dealing with all the supernatural shit that has happened to them in the last few years, especially being possessed by the nogitsune. So he’s not really nice. Not really.

But even with the dating, the sex and all the normal diversions, the normal things just don’t work for him this time. He has a hard time getting Derek out of his head. It’s almost like the split second where the link was made between Derek and sexuality has made it impossible for Stiles not to think about him like that.

So he struggles. From the top of his head he can list the first 15 reasons why he shouldn’t be thinking about Derek in that way. The first being that Derek doesn’t do serious and number 15 (and beyond) being that he’s just going to get hurt. So Stiles tries harder.

Which mean that he doesn’t meet up with the pack every time anymore. He doesn’t answer his phone when Derek calls. When they finally do get together, he listens and gives his opinions as he has to, but he doesn’t linger and he most definitely doesn’t make eye contact with Derek. Basically he ignores the shit out of him.

And it seems that Derek is content with letting him do that. There is no big confrontation, no demands of knowing why he’s staying away. Stiles swallows that hurt down, and tries to pretend that it doesn’t affect him to obviously not be important enough to the pack, to Derek, to demand answers of. 

So Stiles is utterly unprepared when he gets the call late at night to get his ass over to Derek’s because the big bad of the week is acting up and the pack has to take care of it. Reluctantly Stiles goes.

A couple of hours later he is sitting in the passenger seat of his jeep while Derek is driving him home to his loft. Isaac left with Allison, and Scott, although reluctant to leave Stiles hurt, offered to take Lydia home. Which left Derek to drive Stiles’ jeep. Stiles is trying to not black out from the pain and the smell of blood coming from the gash on his chest. His T-shirt is ruined and for a second he worries about getting blood on the seat, but that quickly takes a back-seat to the throbbing of pain as the car drives over another pothole.

“Jesus, be careful how you drive, you fucker!” he hisses out between his teeth as he clutches his chest in a futile attempt to lessen the pain.

Instead of answering, Derek tightens the knuckles on the steering wheel and clenches his jaw.

The car is quiet for the rest of the drive, but it seems like at least Derek is making an effort to avoid the potholes the rest of the way.

When they arrive at the loft Derek guides him to sit on the bed and Stiles tries to slip out of the T-shirt while Derek gets the first-aid kit. Derek places the first-aid kit on the bed next to Stiles, and carefully helps him with the getting the rest of the T-shirt of him. And then he starts cleaning the wound.

It is not the first time this has happened. Derek cleaning Stiles’ wounds, taking care of him. And every time, even before Stiles started noticing Derek like that, it takes Stiles’ breath away. It is just so different experiencing Derek like that, caretaking instead of behaving like the douche he normally is. So Stiles takes advantage of the situation and looks his fill. He takes in the sharp cheekbones, the stubble, the color of his eyes and the full lips, that’s just slightly parted as Derek is focused on his wound.

“You are staring at me.” Derek says quietly, the first words spoken between them since the jeep.  It almost startles Stiles, making him divert his eyes and flail a bit, which immediately makes him hiss and fold in on himself from pain.

“Stay still, you fool.” Derek says and puts his hand on the gash. Stiles relaxes as black veins appear on Derek’s arm and the pain lessens.

When Stiles finally looks at Derek he is looking right back. Derek’s hand is still on his chest, and the tension is unbearable. Still looking into his eyes, Stiles can’t help but lean forward a bit. Slowly his fingers circle Derek’s wrist of the hand on his chest. The touch seems to set something off and Derek just barely sighs his name before Stiles is leaning forward all the way and then he is kissing Derek.

First Derek doesn’t kiss back, and just as Stiles begins to pull back, not really sure how he is supposed to apologize for doing it, Derek leans in and takes control of the kiss. It’s hot and aggressive, almost like Derek is trying to devour Stiles. And Stiles gives himself over to it, eager to finally experience Derek. Derek pushes him back on the bed and grinds into him. Even though the feeling of their dicks finally touching is enough to send spikes of pleasure throughout his entire body, Stiles can’t help but whimper as the movement pulls at the gash. Derek immediately pulls back, muttering apologies.

But Stiles doesn’t want it to end here, so he grabs Derek’s shirt and uses it to pull him down onto the bed. He shoves at him until he moves back, and when Derek is finally lying on his back in the middle of the bed, Stiles just straddles him and crouches over him, eager to kiss him again.

Stiles’ brain is barely online, everything is blurring together from the feeling of Derek’s hard dick rubbing against his ass through their pants and his hands touching him, and suddenly he can’t get naked fast enough. Frantically he pulls on Derek’s T-shirt, barely breaking the kiss long enough for Derek to get it over his head. And then he is moving back on his legs in order to open the pants. Derek lifts his hips to help and Stiles almost has a fit looking at the V leading down into his briefs. Stiles pulls off Derek’s pants and briefs in one go, and then he is lying there, gloriously naked in front of him. Just casually giving Stiles the control, like there’s nothing to it. Before he can think too much about what that could possible mean, Stiles gets out of the bed and strips in no time, not even trying to be sexy about it because holy shit, that is Derek lying there naked on the bed, waiting for him to join him. Stiles pauses for two seconds, taking in the sight of Derek naked. His dick is lying flushed and hard on his stomach and he’s not bothered by the nudity at all. While Stiles climbs back on the bed, Derek reaches over to the bed table and comes back with lube in his hand. Stiles quickly takes it from him and wastes no time lubing up his fingers and reaches back and starts stretching his hole. He leans forward and starts kissing Derek again.

Derek sighs between kisses “I wanted to do that.” His voice is low and rough and Stiles can feel the heat pooling in his lower stomach.

“Not going to last long, want you inside me when I come.” He barely has the coherency to say, and he has to rest his head on Derek’s shoulder and think really unsexy thoughts as Derek’s hand joins his behind him, touching the rim and feels Stiles’ fingers disappearing into himself. Derek makes a noise like he can’t believe that Stiles already has a couple of fingers buried in him, but then Derek clutches his hip hard and says “Come on!”

“Yeah.” Stiles slurs and pulls his fingers out of his ass with an obscene sound and when he looks down at Derek’s dick, Derek is already lubing it up. All he has to do is rise up a little bit on his knees and then when he feels Derek place the tip at his hole, he start to let go and slide down slowly. When he finally bottoms out, his legs are shaking, he has a hard time keeping his eyes open and he is biting his lip. He knows he must look obscene, he has never felt so desperate in his entire life, but looking at Derek makes it all right, cause Derek has this wild look in his eyes, like he is just as desperate and his hands are tight on Stiles’ hips like he is holding back with everything he has.

Stiles start to move, slowly just sliding up and down, trying to control his breathing. Instead of leaning back, like he really wants to but he is afraid that that will pull at the gash, he leans forward and rests his weight on his hands on Derek’s pecks. He rolls his hips and the movement makes him gasp as flares of pleasure spikes through him, and Derek arches under him and bares his throat. Stiles can’t help but lean forward and kiss the long expanse of skin bared to him, and when he gets his lips on his skin he can’t help but speed up the pace. Derek’s hands let go of his hips and he fists the sheets instead. Stiles must admit that he is somewhat surprised at how easily Derek is giving over control to Stiles. Which is just adding fuel to the fire with how much Stiles is turned on.

Stiles’ dick is rubbing against Derek’s abs and as the pace quickens Stiles finds it harder and harder to control himself. He can hear the sounds he is making, and he is quite sure that he has never even made sounds like that before. He sounds desperate and frantic, and his movements match it.

The coil in his stomach tightens and he can feel his legs shaking and everything just feels so good that he is not sure he can continue at this pace much longer. As if sensing that Derek pushes his legs up and finds purchase on the bed. He grabs Stiles’ hips hard again and takes over. The change in angle makes Derek’s dick rub against Stiles prostate with every thrust and before Stiles can even get his bearings he is coming so hard, he swears he is seeing stars. All the muscles in his body tighten and he isn’t even sure what kind of noises he is making. His eyes are clenched shut and as the orgasm slowly ebbs out, he forces them to open so he can take in the sight of Derek. And that sight does things to Stiles. Stiles has come so hard that Derek has cum on his chin, which is slowly dribbling down, and Derek is looking down at where he is disappearing into Stiles. He looks really close, flushed with sweat covering his face and his body, and Stiles drinks in the sight of Derek like this, and almost can’t believe that this is happening to him. As if sensing that Stiles is looking Derek diverts his eyes up to Stiles’. Their eyes lock and Stiles finds himself unable to look away, even if he wanted to, and he really doesn’t right now. It seems like the room is closing in on them, and it feels like they are the only two people in the universe. Stiles can’t bear it, he has to lean forward and kiss Derek. And as his lips touch Derek’s, Derek shoves himself roughly up into Stiles one last time and then he is coming. Stiles swallow all the sounds pouring from Derek, and kiss him through it. Finally Derek relaxes and falls back on the bed, breathing hard, effectively breaking the kiss. Stiles lower his head to Derek’s shoulder and try to catch his breath as well.

His mind is slowly starting to churn again, and he can feel his body begin to thrum with energy. Not looking into Derek’s eyes suddenly makes him conscious of the position he is in, how naked he is, and he suddenly feels awkward. He tries to come up with something to say to ease the awkwardness, but nothing comes to mind. Sure, a lot of very inappropriate things pop up, but he bites his tongue, not wanting to make light of whatever passed between them.

When he finally collects himself enough to try to face the music, he slowly leans back on his legs. When he looks at Derek, he realizes that in his freak out he didn’t even notice how Derek was doing. Which means he didn’t notice Derek falling asleep. He freezes, and just looks at Derek. He looks so vulnerable and debauched, with bed hair and swollen, red lips. And Stiles realizes that he doesn’t really look like he did in front of his building that day. He looks young and relaxed.

Trying not to disturb him, Stiles gets out of the bed quietly, barely cleans himself off in the bathroom before he dresses and leaves. He stands outside the door after it has closed behind him for a couple of minutes, raging a battle inside himself, whether he should leave a note, or at least just look at Derek one last time looking like that. But in the end he decides against it.

There’s really no need to make it harder on himself. This is only a one-time deal, Derek doesn’t do seconds. He knows this. So he really doesn’t need to mess it up further with his feelings.

Without looking back or hesitating, he starts up the jeep and heads home. 



So it turns out Stiles is the best at ignoring the shit out of things he doesn’t want to talk about. He ignores the looks Scott has been sending his way, and tries really hard not to keep repeating what happened between him and Derek in his head a hundred times a day. Which basically means that whenever he is sitting still he is thinking about it. And he has found himself more than once touching his lips, remembering how it felt like to kiss the stubble on Derek’s jawline.

Derek doesn’t call, but Stiles didn’t really expect him to. He knows there is a limit to how long he can avoid Derek as he is currently investigating some kind of weird shifter-spirit-sprite-thing (they are not really sure what it is yet) lurking in the forest. Which incidentally was the reason for the gash in his chest in the first place.

So the next time Stiles sees Derek, they are all gathered in Stiles’ living room, going through what Stiles has learned so far (which to be honest is a whole lot less than he is comfortable admitting). Stiles is trying really hard not to let what happened between Derek and him affect him. He tries to look at Derek like before, tries to talk to him like before and generally tries not to look too obviously at the expanse of skin showing from the V-neck Derek is wearing.

This off course just makes everything more awkward. Suddenly Stiles can’t remember how he used to behave before, and Scott and Isaac keep throwing him these glances. He feels awful, not like himself at all, and finally Scott elbows him and says:

“Dude, what is up with you? You smell really weird, like… anxious and…” his whole face scrunches up while he is looking for the right word to describe Stiles’ mood.

Stiles shakes his head and says “I’m fine!” a little bit too fast and loud for it to even remotely seem like the truth.

But like the very good friend Scott is, he seems to sense Stiles’ panic over that conversation and leaves it alone with a very serious glare. The kind of glare that says “We’ll talk about this later, Buddy!!” No way in hell Stiles wants to have that conversation within range of a certain werewolf (cough*Derek*cough).

Even though Stiles tries his hardest to make it seem like he is the google-master and knows plenty about this thing in the preserve, it is unfortunately quite clear to everybody really fast that Stiles knows almost nothing about it. So the meeting ends pretty quickly. Stiles is taking the leftovers and dirty plates into the kitchen as he throws a see-ya over his shoulder to the others. As soon as he hears the front door close behind them he drops the loads heavy on the kitchen table and exhales heavily. This has basically been one of the most awkward nights of his life and he is relieved that it has ended. He is trying to tell himself that this was just the first one, once he’s seen Derek a couple of times the awkwardness will disappear and they can go back to being… Friends? Allies? Pack?... as they were before.

Suddenly the sound of someone clearing his throat shocks him out of his reverie and he turns around flailing.

“Oh my god!” he yelps and tries to catch his breath. “What are you still doing here?” His hand is stuck over his heart as if the touch could calm his beating heart.

Derek is standing there, much closer than he should be, awkwardly shifting his weight from one foot to the other, and trying his best not to look Stiles in the eyes.

“I just wanted to say that you don’t have to worry. I will keep my distance to you,” he says and then finally looks Stiles in the eyes and gently touches Stiles’ bicep: “so you can relax, Stiles. I’m not going to do anything about…” he makes a gesture with his free hand that should somehow mean something to Stiles, and then he removes his hand reluctantly and turns to leave.

And before Stiles has even started processing what Derek just said he is gone. Stiles is left standing there with an open mouth and a beating heart, still trying to catch his breath and trying to jump-start his brain. Why in the hell is it that when he really needs to be able to think fast and speak his brain is just blank..??

He picks his jaw up from the ground and shakes his head. If he didn’t know any better he would think that Derek thought he was making him uncomfortable, when it’s clearly the other way around. Stiles has been jumping through hoops all night trying not to make Derek uncomfortable.

“What the hell…?” he quietly states to the room. Finally he starts moving and clears up the mess the pack has made. And when that is done and he is turning off the lights to go to bed (except the one on the porch for his dad when he gets home later), he realizes that he should probably just talk to Derek. But that isn’t really a conversation he is looking forward to having.

He buries his head in his pillow and tries to pretend that a good night sleep will make it all better.


As if, he really should have known better. What does happen is that Stiles is pulled into a whirlwind of events at school and with the thing in the preserve that he doesn’t even have time to think about the talk with Derek.

He is walking through the preserve late at night with Isaac, trying to find some plants that should be indicative of sprite activity when both receive the text from Scott that Derek's hurt. They both rush back to the jeep and are at Deaton’s before long.

As they enter the clinic they can hear the commotion from the back. Stiles swallows hard, he’s not exactly squeamish around blood, but he just prefers not to see it in the amounts he’s been subjected to recently. So Stiles lets Isaac enter first and hangs back by the door. What he sees takes his breath away. Derek is lying topless on his back and his entire torso looks like it has been slashed open. There’s so much blood, and Derek looks pale and in pain.

Deaton gestures to Stiles to come forward but Stiles just shakes his head. He can almost not breathe from over here, how is he going to survive if he comes any closer. Deaton sighs in that why-do-I-put-up-with-this-way of his and says “Stiles, you need to come here and hold Derek down while I’m doing this,” and he looks pointedly at the equipment he has in his hands and then at Derek who is clearly in a lot of pain and wolfed out.

Stiles just wants to get out of there. He absolutely does not want to look at Derek hurt. He can feel his stomach churning and can’t even begin to imagine the pain Derek must be in right now.

Deaton continues, ignoring Stiles’ hesitance, “It won’t do to let the wolves touch him when he’s this badly hurt in his stomach. I need him to focus on healing, not fighting to look strong for the wolves!” And it’s this that makes Stiles take the first step towards Derek, and then another, and then another, until he is standing next to him. Stiles leans over Derek, put his hands on Derek’s shoulders and push on them gingerly. Derek is cold to the touch, but his eyes seek Stiles’ immediately and Stiles focuses on that. Just the looking into Derek’s eyes, ignoring the way he can sense Deaton working on Derek behind him. The touching seems to be helping. Derek seems to calm down and his breathing evens out a bit.

“Don’t let go.” Derek says, so low that Stiles almost can’t hear it. Stiles’ throat clicks as he swallows. He can’t help the soft touches of his thumb into Derek’s shoulder as he promises not to.

He’s so focused on looking into Derek’s eyes that he doesn’t even notice that Deaton is finished and the room is quiet. It is only when Deaton softly touches his shoulder to get his attention that he is startled out of his tunnel vision.

“He is done now, almost healed up. It was good you could calm him down.” Deaton says, nods at Stiles and then leaves. Stiles notices that the room is empty and he didn’t even notice when everybody left. When he looks back at Derek, Derek is sleeping. Stiles can’t believe how vulnerable he looks. And he tries not to think too hard about the fact that this is the second time Derek has fallen asleep around Stiles. He dares a look at Derek’s abdomen, and is amazed how healed it already looks.

Stiles swallows back all the feelings fluttering in his stomach. He shouldn’t allow himself to feel like this. But he can’t help but sweep Derek’s sweaty hair away from his forehead gently before he resolutely turns around and leaves. No need to quell on what can’t be he tries to tell himself.

And then he tries again to ignore the pain in his chest when he is sitting in his jeep outside his house, trying not to cry. It takes him a long time to pull himself together enough to go inside and face his dad.



Things take a turn for the worst. They still have no idea what this thing attacking them is precisely, they don’t know why it keeps attacking and everybody seems to have been hurt by it at some point. Stiles can feel the weight of everybody’s expectations of him to figure out what to do about it heavy on his shoulders. As a result he is staying up later at night in front of his computer or buried in the old tomes he has borrowed from Deaton. He is taking too much Adderall and drinking too much coffee. And it’s eating at him, he’s feeling so guilty over not being able to find the solution that he can’t sleep and almost can’t concentrate on school when he’s there.

One late night, he is sitting in front of his computer, totally gone on too much coffee and Adderall, and he is just so done, so goddamn ready to just give up. He buries his hands in his hair, pulls on it a bit, and just wants to scream his frustrations out.

And in just that moment Derek jumps through the window. It says a lot about Stiles’ frame of mind that he doesn’t get scared or jump or flail. Instead he keeps his hands buried in his hair, with his elbows on his thighs, leaning over his keyboard and just says “What do you want?” He doesn’t even look at Derek.

After a long period of silence Stiles finally turns his head just enough to look at Derek and almost stops breathing when he sees the look on Derek’s face. “Are you all right?” Stiles says, can’t really help himself, because Derek’s eyes are so wide and his eyebrows are almost in his forehead.

He does this funny thing with his face that Stiles can’t help but think is really cute, what is this even, and finally says: “Are you?”

Stiles looks at Derek for a long time trying to come up with an answer. Because he is not really fine, not at all. He is so exhausted he could cry, and if he has to look at one more page of unhelpful bullshit he is going to scream.

But instead of telling Derek all this he shakes his head slightly, takes a deep breath and on the exhale he says: “I’m just tired, dude.”

Derek winces, he really hates being called dude, but instead of calling him out on it he just asks him “When was the last time you ate?”

Stiles doesn’t even know. And as if on cue his stomach begins growling and they share a small smile. “Too long I guess.” Stiles says and lets Derek drag him out of his room and into the Camaro. They end up at a diner not too far away, which Stiles used to eat with his dad all the time in. Stiles stuffs his face with a large cheeseburger and curly fries while Derek sits opposite him in the booth and sips on coffee. They don’t talk a lot, which is unusual for Stiles, but his mind is just too tired to bother keeping tabs on his thoughts long enough to actually have something coherent to say. When he is done, Derek drives him home and Stiles fights a losing battle trying to keep awake.

When he wakes up the next morning he doesn’t remember how he got from the car to his room, but he is tucked in and his shoes are standing next to the bed. He doesn’t even try to stop the smile that comes to his face because of this. And he realizes just how fucked he is.



Finally! Fucking finally! After reading a fuckton of old books and scouring every nook and cranny on the internet, something shows up. Stiles knows that this isn’t even the whole answer, but it is at least something. He doesn’t hesitate to text everybody to get there as soon as possible so he can explain what he has found.

For once everybody listens with full attention as Stiles explains what he has learned so far. He’s talking a mile a minute, too excited to contain it, but he can’t help but notice Derek out of the corner of his eyes. He is standing to the side, as far away from Stiles as possible, leaning into the wall with his arms crossed. Stiles really tries not to notice, but Derek is standing there looking like a fucking model, which is totally not fair when Stiles hasn’t showered in two days and hasn’t slept or eaten enough in the last days. He knows he looks like shit, he even feels like shit, and the surge of adrenalin that came from knowledge is slowly draining out of him.

When everybody is ready to leave Derek says: “You should stay here,” Stiles is just about to start to disagree when he continues “You really need to eat something and sleep.” Stiles looks at him incredulously and turns to Scott for backup. Scott looks sheepish and scratches his neck, which he only does when he is about to not agree with Stiles. He doesn’t even need to say anything, Stiles already knows that he has lost this battle. He throws his hands up and rolls his eyes. But to be perfectly honest he kinda is too exhausted to go out and try to dig up the hiding place of the fucking tree sprite they apparently have on their hands. And a pissed-off one of that as well.

As everybody leaves Stiles slumps down into his computer chair with a huge sigh. It’s only now he’s noticing how much his neck and shoulders ache and how it feels like he has sand in his eyes and cotton in his head. He gets up slowly to go eat something and then take a much needed shower. He can smell himself, so he can only imagine how he must stink to a werewolf nose.  

The food taste like heaven and the shower is godsend. He can feel his muscles loosen up and his shoulders slowly descend to where they belong. Dressed only in briefs he just slumps down on top of his bed, he doesn’t even have the energy to pull the cover aside.

Even though he is really tired he has a hard time letting go. Thoughts of how the search is going are haunting him. Is everybody all right? Have they found something? Was the information he gave them useful at all? He turns around so he is lying on his back and glances at his phone. It’s only been an hour, so nobody has called or texted him yet with updates. But don’t they know he is dying here?

He tries to relax even though his mind is churning but he keeps his eyes closed, looking for some rest.

After waiting for a million years, at least, he hears his window opening. He sits up on his elbows and watch as Derek enters his room. Stiles is already opening his mouth to ask how it went when Derek starts talking “We’re pretty sure we have located it. It’s in a part of the preserve that we don’t normally patrol.”

Stiles falls back on the bed as relief floods him. “Is it over?” he asks as he looks up at the ceiling.

He can feel the dip of the bed as Derek sits down on his bed by his legs. “No, not yet. But we wouldn’t have been able to find it without your help Stiles.”

Stiles can feel the relief leaving him. He had really hoped it would be over now, and nobody else would get hurt again. He doesn’t even acknowledge the praise from Derek, or the fact that he is sitting so close.

Derek seems to sense his unease. He puts a hand on his leg, just above his knee, and says “It will soon be over now we know where it is.”

Stiles looks at Derek. He normally doesn’t talk that much, so Stiles must really look a mess. He can’t help but notice how warm Derek’s hand is on his thigh and how much he wants the hand to slide up his thigh. He hasn’t touched his junk in forever it seems, he has been to occupied with research and seeing Derek and feeling his touch has just started an innate response of blood flowing down to his dick. He doesn’t really know what to do, he is only in his briefs there is no way Derek isn’t going to know what is happening, even if he couldn’t smell it. He knows his eyes are widening and he is getting a look of utter panic on his face, but he just can’t help himself. He can even feel his cheeks flushing. Goddammit.

Derek looks down and then looks up at him again with raised eyebrows. Stiles is mortified and closes his eyes in a stupid attempt at pretending this is even happening.

The next thing he knows he can feel the bed dipping again indicating that Derek is moving and then he can feel Derek’s breath right by the elastic of his brief over his happy trail. “How long has it been?” Derek asks while he keeps breathing on Stiles’ happy trail.

Stiles can feel himself flushing further, knows that it is descending down onto his torso, it’s ridiculous how sensitive he already is just from Derek being so close. His throat clicks as he swallows and his mouth is suddenly so dry he doesn’t even attempt to answer the question.

He can feel Derek’s weight on the bed shift. He risks opening his eyes, lifts his head to look and is greeted with an eyeful of Derek hovering just above his diamond hard dick.

Oh God…!” he moans and has to close his eyes and lie back again. He can’t look. He knows he is dampening the materiel of his briefs with precome and all because Derek is in the vicinity of his dick. This is mortifying.

But then Derek does something that Stiles really didn’t expect. He starts mouthing Stiles’ dick through the material. Stiles fists the bed sheet and has to bite his lip to keep from cursing. He really, really, wants to look, but at the same time he doesn’t cause he really wants this to last. Because you know… Derek is mouthing  at his dick!!

He can feel the fabric of his briefs getting wet with Derek’s spit, and then he can feel Derek’s fingers pulling at the waistband, lowering his briefs to right below his dick. He looks down again and it is obscene how the elastic is pushing his dick and balls up making them stand up all gravity-defying. Derek is looking at it with red, wet, totally inviting lips, like he has never seen anything more worthy of devouring in his entire life.

Derek gives in and licks the pearl of precome oozing out from the slit and Stiles can’t help but give a small aborted thrust and moan obscenely loud. Derek smirks and then without warning envelops his dick in the wet warmth of his mouth.

“Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuucccckkkkk…….” Stiles moans sounding like a pornstar but he can’t help himself. It just feels so good. Derek starts out by covering Stiles’ dick with spit, just licking it and wetting it in his mouth and then he just goes to town on it. Derek swallows Stiles’ dick down his throat and the heat and pressure is almost unbearable, and Stiles’ thighs are shaking with the effort of not thrusting up into Derek’s mouth and he is cursing and saying please and Derek without really understanding what is even coming out his mouth.

His orgasm builds way to quickly, Derek just keeps deep throating him, only interrupted by pauses to breathe where he does this thing with his tongue just below the head that has Stiles seeing double. Then Derek uses his other hand to graze his knuckles down Stiles’ perineum while he takes Stiles’ dick so far down his throat that Stiles can feel his tongue play with his balls and Stiles is just done. His entire body tenses up to the point where he can’t help but sit up, all his muscles tightening.

“Shit, shit, ah, ah, ah, Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck!!!!!!!!!!!!” and he is coming so hard he almost blacks out. And as Derek milks him and keeps sucking him off his orgasm just keeps going until he is so over-sensitive he almost feels like he is dying and he can’t help but push at Derek. Derek reluctantly lets off with an obscene slurping noise and then he gets up on the bed and frantically straddles Stiles while opening the fly of his jeans. He beats off hard with a hand on Stiles’ chest pinning him down. Which is not really necessary as Stiles it too out of it to even move, but he finds that he likes the feeling of Derek putting his weight on him. He can’t decide what to focus on, Derek’s flushed beautiful dick that is simply being abused by how rough it is bring jerked off, or Derek’s face with his lips all swollen and shiny, with spit still on his chin and his eyes that are looking everywhere at once at Stiles’ naked body.

Then Derek tenses up and Stiles can feel the heat of cum landing on his chest in ropes. Stiles can’t help but look at Derek and he is simply absorbed how fucking gorgeous he is when he is coming. Derek squeezes the last come out of his dick and even shakes it a little so every last drop is on Stiles. Then he uses the grip to rub it into Stiles’ skin with the tip. He looks riveted by the look of that and Stiles is finally getting his words back, so he has to bite his lips to not make some sort of really inappropriate comment about scent marking that for sure would send Derek running.

He is trying to rack his brain for something to say. Derek is still out of breath, still pinning him down with his hand. Still rubbing cum into his stomach. But then he looks up at Stiles and smiles this small private smile and Stiles is melting. His brain just stops and he has no words left. Something must show in his eyes because Derek leans forward and carefully touches his lips to Stiles’. It’s almost not a kiss, merely two sets of lips touching. But it electrifies Stiles. Goosebumps break out all over his body and he can feel everyplace they are touching intensely. Derek leans back a little bit, just enough for them to look at each other. And Stiles is on the verge of opening up, just letting all the words and feelings fall out of his mouth when they are interrupted by Derek’s phone ringing loudly.

Derek leans back and apologies before taking out the phone. “I have to answer this.” He says and proceeds to talk to whoever is on the other end as if he is not sitting on top of Stiles with his soft dick still sticking out of the fly of his jeans, lying in a pool of cum that is starting to dry. His hand is still lying on Stiles’ chest, but he is not putting any weight on it, it is simply lying there like he just wants to feel Stiles.

Stiles is overcome with how tired he is. He is not even listening in on the conversation and he can feel his consciousness slipping. He is briefly woken by the movement of Derek as he gets off Stiles and he can feel his briefs being put into place. He is helped under the covers by Derek and then he is being kissed on the forehead as Derek whispers: “I have to go…” Stiles mumbles something unintelligent, already half asleep.


When he wakes up the next morning feeling better than he has in a long time he almost wonders if he had been dreaming. But then he pushes the covers aside and discovers his happy trail completely covered with dried come, which is going to take forever to get out by the way, and he can’t help but smile. Obviously Derek does do seconds after all. Hopefully he does thirds and fourths as well Stiles thinks as he gets out of bed to go shower.



After a shower and some breakfast, Stiles heads over to Scott’s. He just really needs somebody else to explain to him what happened last night with the sprite.

He finds Scott in the kitchen eating breakfast and as soon as Stiles enters the room Scott looks up with wide eyes.

“Dude,” he says and scrunches up his nose “you reek of Derek.”

Stiles feels himself flush and leans into the kitchen table with his hip trying to seem nonchalant about it. “Yeah, he came to tell me you guys were all right last night.”

Scott shakes his head and points at him with the spoon. “No, you really smell like him. Like you’re wearing his clothes or…” and it is really not hard to pinpoint the exact moment when Scott realizes. His entire body conveys how he feels about this. “No! Dude,” he says and his eyes are so wide Stiles is almost afraid they are going to fall out, “you didn’t.”

Stiles sits down heavily and buries his head in his hands, hiding from Scott’s revelation.

“But Derek. Why would you… with Derek??” He says and does this elaborate thing with his eyebrows that Stiles is almost certain he learned from Derek.

Stiles looks at him and can’t help but flail his arms as he says, “Because it’s Derek.” Like that sentence could possibly convey all Derek encompasses that makes him so mouthwatering.

Scott looks at him incredulous. “I didn’t even know you liked him like that.” He says, and almost sounds wounded that Stiles had been keeping secrets from him.

“I didn’t even know either until a few weeks ago. And it’s not like I like him, like him.” He says and tries not to feel 6 years old.

“I call bullshit.” Scott says and points at Stiles again with the spoon. “This is why you were so upset a while ago at Derek’s.”

Stiles swats at the spoon. “Yeah, but that was only because we had had sex, and I didn’t know how to not make it weird being around him.”

At this Scott puts down the spoon and puts on his serious face. “You guys had sex?” he says and looks sternly at Stiles.

Stiles just nods and gets up to get a cup of coffee to have something to do with his hands as they talk.

Scott continues, “And you had sex last night?” Stiles shrugs and contemplates whether he should argue that a blowjob isn’t really sex sex, but then just nods and pours coffee into a mug. Scott doesn’t let up, he just keeps glaring at Stiles like he should realize something himself.

Trying to speed up whatever Scott is getting at, Stiles says: “Look, it’s not like something is going to come from this. Dude was just helping me out. It’s Derek, he doesn’t really do feelings, remember?” 

Scott sighs. It’s his you-should-know-better-than-this-sigh. “Exactly Stiles. It’s Derek. Derek doesn’t have sex with anybody twice. You know this. And you know why.”

Stiles sips his coffee again, trying to absorb what Scott just told him. Could it be that Derek was into him? But that just goes against everything he knows about Derek. “I really don’t think that is what this is about, Scott. It was just sex. The hard part is not letting it change everything.”

“Not all change is bad, Stiles.” Scott says, and sounds much older than he is. And then he picks up the spoon again and starts in on the cereal. “Just don’t hurt him, okay?”

Stiles sips his coffee again, trying to hide the smile that comes from realizing just how far Scott and Derek have come these last years.

Finally, having the hard conversation out of the way, they start in on the sprite.


A couple of days go by where nothing happens. Now they know roughly where the sprite is located they are trying to come up with a plan as to what to do with it. Deaton keeps saying they need to know what pissed it off in the first place, but other than that he is being as unhelpful as ever.

Until Stiles gets kidnapped. He is driving along the road next to the preserve going to buy groceries when he gets a flat tire. He pulls over and is already swearing about having to change the tire (thank fuck he has a spare in the back), and apparently he is so absorbed by this that he doesn’t notice the sprite.

Next  thing he knows he is waking up in a very dark place that smells like dirt and earth to a point where it is almost hard to breathe and his hands are tied behind his back. As his mind clears he tries to stay calm and remember if he had his phone on him or if it is still in his car. Luckily he locates it in his back pocket, and he almost takes it out to call Scott right away when he notices the sounds coming from his left.

It’s so dark that he can’t see what is making the sound, but it’s a high pitched slow wail that is just on the right side of hurting his ears. There’s some shuffling noises as well. He slowly tries to get to his feet, only to hit his head on something above him. When he reaches out his hands behind him, he almost immediately brushes into something hanging. Very quickly Stiles realizes that wherever he is, it is underground and very small. Which must mean he must be very close to the creature wailing.

“Hallo..?” he tentatively says. A small sniffle reach him and it sounds so pitiful that he immediately wants to comfort whoever (or whatever) made that noise. “Hey, it’s all right,” he says lowering his voice and trying to sound comforting, “what’s a matter?”

He can hear it come closer to him until he swears it must be just outside his reach. It keeps making these weird sniffling noises but for some reason Stiles doesn’t feel threatened by it.

“I just want to help you. What can I do?” he says and changes position on the ground so he is sitting on his feet instead. He can feel a tentative touch to his arm from something seemingly very small and then his mind is flooded with pictures.

After what seems like hours, but could have been minutes, he opens his eyes and just knows what to do.

“I want to help, but you got to unbind me. I can’t help without my hands.” He says gently, hoping that the sprite will recognize how non-threatening he is.

He can feel whatever bound his hands together at the wrist slowly release him and he cautiously grabs his phone. “I’m just going to call some people to help you, okay?” he says and hopes the sprite speaks English or at least gets the meaning of what he’s saying. Stiles takes the quiet that follows this as a yes, so he calls Scott and tells him what to do and where to go.


 After a short while he can hear some shuffling above him and some muffled talk. He can almost make out Scott’s voice and he can hear somebody else as well. He really hopes they have brought what he asked for so he can get the sprite to stop crying and he can get out of the underground cave that he is being held in. Which he is trying really hard not to focus much on. He doesn’t really have good memories with underground caves.

After a couple of minutes the noises from the sprite changes. Instead of wailing it is starting to sound like it is purring. They must be doing something right on the top. And then the earth on his right seems to cave in so it creates a hole to the top. Sunlight fills the entire cave and Stiles is so blinded by it he hides his face in his elbow. When he finally looks up, he can see a hand reaching down for him and he immediately grabs is. He is pulled to the surface by Scott who looks so happy to see him that he almost doesn’t have time to put his feet to the ground before he is swept into a bone crushing hug.

“You’re all right!” Scott says and buries his face in Stiles’ neck. Stiles tips his chin up, giving Scott full access to scent mark him as he pleases. He has been through this before after he has been hurt.

Stiles notices right away the huge display of goods laying by the root of the nearest tree, just as he asked.

“Easy buddy, “ Stiles says and tries in vain to create some space between him and Scott, “I can’t believe that actually worked!”

Scott snorts into his neck “I know! Dude, we didn’t even know how much to bring to sacrifice to the sprite so we just bought a bunch of everything…”

“I can see that! It must have been enough though, at least I’m not kidnapped anymore.” 

Finally just giving up on pushing Scott away, which is practically impossible when he clearly doesn’t want to be moved, Stiles puts his arms around Scott’s shoulders. He begins to look around, and finally notices Derek in the background. He is almost shuffling his feet, looking uncomfortable and anywhere else but at Stiles and Scott.

“Dude, as awesome as your hugs are, I just really want to get out of here before the sprite changes his mind.” He can’t help but say as Scott makes absolutely no moves to stop sniffling at his neck. Scott makes a pitiful sound and rubs his chin against the spot where neck meets shoulder.

Derek finally takes pity on Stiles, it seems, and takes a few steps forward to catch Scott’s arm. “Let’s go, Scott.” He says, and still won’t make eye contact with Stiles, who is absolutely not staring at Derek like he is water in the desert.

Scott reluctantly lets go of Stiles, but keeps him close by as they walk the short way to Derek’s car.


Stiles is dropped off first. As soon as he enters his room he flops down on the bed, feeling like he should be tired after everything that has happened to him. But instead he feels jittery. He figures it must be some kind of residual adrenaline rush he has going on. He gets up from the bed, paces the floor a bit, before he sits down by his computer. He goes through the motion of checking his e-mail and tries to get caught up in something so he can get tired enough to go to bed. It’s two am, but he’s not easily distracted. He hears a tentative knock on the window and isn’t even surprised to see Derek looking in through the window at him.

As he opens the window he can’t help but comment: “You know, it’s not like we don’t have several doors you could enter through…” But he’s not really feeling it, and he can see that Derek isn’t taking the bait.

“Is this all right?” Derek says and Stiles just moves so Derek can enter. Doesn’t have it in him to think of something clever to say. Derek settles in the middle of the room, with his hands in his pockets and his shoulders tense. He is standing still, glaring at some spot on the wall, almost too loud with the way he is silent.

Stiles hates silence. Even if it is not awkward like this is. He knows he should probably give Derek some time to figure out what he wants to say, because the dude clearly has something he wants out, but Stiles just can’t not talk. “So can you believe how easy that was?” He says and Derek looks him in the eyes for the first time that evening. “Poor little sprite, all woken up by the nemeton, but then nobody worships it anymore…”

Derek frowns, “I wouldn’t call it poor. The thing almost killed us.” he says, but the tension in his shoulders has lessened just a bit. Stiles smirks. This he can do. This Derek he knows. It’s easy to fall into the familiar pattern of back-and-forth with Derek instead of this awkward silent Derek.

As they banter they keep closing in on each other, and without realizing it they end up standing close to each other, close enough to touch if one of them reaches out.

They both seem to realize this at the same time and fall silent while they look at each other. Derek is the one to break the silence. “You smell like Scott…” he says almost in a whisper.

“Yeah, that is what happens when your best friend rubs his scent all over you.” Stiles says and rubs his hand on his neck, trying to ease the tension that is building up between them.

Derek keeps a watchful eye on the hand on his neck, shakes his head and says “No. You smell too much like Scott.”

Oh. Oh! Derek doesn’t say anymore, doesn’t say too much like Scott’s or I want you to smell like me, not Scott. Stiles knows he is staring at Derek with wide eyes and an open mouth, and Derek’s eyes are constantly on the move between his mouth and his hand on his neck. He can’t help but feel a fluttering in his stomach like a thousand butterflies has been let loose in there.

He slowly removes his hand and in a blatant move he’s not even sure where he got the courage from to do, he tips his head to the left and exposes the expanse of his neck to Derek. He keeps his eyes on Derek, making sure that Derek sees the invitation there. And Derek takes a few seconds to just stare at Stiles, like he can’t understand the gesture Stiles just made, before he lifts his upper lift in something resembling a snarl and closes the distance between them to rub his cheek on Stiles neck. The feel of his scruff, the humidity and warmth of his breath makes goosebumps break out all over Stiles’ body and he can’t help but shiver. That makes Derek step even closer to him, so they are touching each other from legs to shoulders. Derek slowly raises his hands and closes his fingers around Stiles wrists. Not hard, just keeping him there, grounding him. Stiles takes a deep breath and the smell of Derek fills his nostrils. He can’t help but close his eyes and he has to bite his lip to fight back a moan. He is beginning to chub up, and he’s not the least bit afraid that Derek will notice as they are standing so close it is impossible for Derek not to.

Stiles can’t help but make a sound in his throat when he feels the rough surface of Derek’s tongue stroking him where neck meets shoulders. He can feel Derek place wet kisses up the column of his throat until he reaches the spot behind his ear. Stiles moans quietly and reaches out to grab Derek’s shirt. Derek lets him, lets go of his wrists to put his arms around Stiles and pull him closer with a hand on the small of his back. As if it was possible for them to get any closer.

As Derek’s hand slips under Stiles’ shirt so he can touch the skin on his back Derek whispers into his ear “Do you know how wrong you smell all covered in Scott? I just want to rub all over you to make you smell like me. Like mine.” And then he just continues rubbing his mouth against Stiles like he didn’t make a huge confession right there.

Stiles almost chokes on his tongue and stops breathing. “Yeah?” He doesn’t even have to stop to think about what his response to this is going to be. Even if he still doesn’t completely know what it is Derek wants from him. Or should he say how much Derek wants from him. But Stiles doesn’t want to think about that right now. Not when he’s hard and Derek is breathing him in and standing so close to him that he almost feels like he is drowning and, oh, Derek is hard too.

He tips his head so his lips are right next to Derek’s ear lope, so close that when he speaks his lips catch the rim of the ear. “Then why don’t you?”

Derek stops breathing. It’s like the world stops for a few seconds. Stiles is almost on the verge of regretting being so forward. Did he misunderstand Derek? But then he feels, more than hears, the growl leaving Derek. A strong hand lands on top of his shoulder and he is pushed to his knees as Derek uses the other to open his jeans and pull out his hard dick.

Stiles is staring at it. It’s so close that he would touch it if he pursed his lips. His mouth is watering and he can’t wait to feel the weight of it on his tongue. In his throat. Derek is grabbing it and holding it steady in front of Stiles’ mouth waiting for Stiles to do something. His grip on Stiles’ shoulder tightens and he forces Stiles forward just a bit, just enough that the tip grazes Stiles’ lips and Stiles can’t help but lick his lips. The taste of Derek’s precome explodes in his mouth and that spurs Stiles forward. Stiles engulfs Derek’s dick, sloppy and wet and Derek moans his name so Stiles can’t help but look up at him. Derek’s pupils are blown and he is breathing hard through his mouth. Derek lets go of his dick and touches Stiles’ stretched lips with his thumb as his hand curls around Stiles’ head. Stiles can’t help but moan at the look in Derek’s eyes giving it up like that. Derek’s hand moves to the back of Stiles’ head, guiding him gently, and as Stiles grabs onto Derek’s thighs for balance Derek starts to thrust tentatively into Stiles’ mouth. Stiles moans and shuts his eyes. It’s sensation overload. Derek curses and thrusts into Stiles mouth a bit rougher and Stiles can feel his own dick fucking weep at the sensation of being dominated like that. Derek obviously takes that as a sign as his other hand joins his first on the back of Stiles head, and he begins to really thrust into Stiles’ mouth.

Stiles can do nothing but hold on for the ride of his life. He can feel Derek reach the back of his throat and get further down with every thrust until Stiles has to concentrate on breathing on the outstroke and try not to suffocate in the huge amounts of spit he is producing. Finally his nose is buried in dark curls and he stops thinking about anything else but the feel of Derek in his mouth, the stretch of his lips and the taste of Derek. Everything in the world boils down to that, to Derek filling him completely. Stiles can’t help but moan, he is making sounds that he is sure he has never made before. It feels amazing the way his mind just lets go and he’s able to only concentrate on this one thing. He is not even really aware of how badly his own dick is aching to be touched. He is so fucking turned on by this that he could come from just the feel of wind on his dick right now.

Derek continues to abuse his throat for a few more thrusts and then abruptly he pulls out of Stiles mouth, tips Stiles’ head back and starts to stroke just in front of his open mouth. “Yeah, look at that, look at your mouth” Derek is babbling, “I’m gonna mark you as mine, get you all covered in my cum, rub it into your skin. You look so good like this, Stiles!” He curls in on himself a bit more and continues with frantic movements ”I’m so close, yeah, just stick out your tongue” and Stiles just has time to do so and close his eyes as he feels the first burst of cum painting him. Some he catches on his tongue, but Derek makes sure that the next bursts catch the rest of his face. As the bursts die down, Stiles can feel Derek’s cum dripping down his face, over his eyelashes and cheeks, and he can feel his face flush even as he lets go of Derek’s thighs to frantically get a hand on his dick. He doesn’t even get it out all the way, just gets his hand on it to stroke it a couple of times, and then he is coming. And it’s the most amazing feeling in the world, he comes so hard he almost blacks out, and he almost stops breathing. Every cell in his body is screaming and he doesn’t even know what kind of sounds he is making as he falls forward into Derek’s legs, letting them support him so he doesn’t fall onto the floor. He is panting and almost feels like sobbing from the intensity of the orgasm and the words that came before it.

His eyes are still closed for fear of getting cum in his eyes. He feels Derek tip his head back and then Derek is carefully wiping the cum out of his eyelashes. Finally Stiles opens his eyes to find Derek staring at him with a fond expression on his face that tells Stiles more than a thousand words could ever do about how Derek is feeling right now.


Afterwards, when Stiles has washed all the cum off his face and hair he gets back into his room to find Derek laying on his bed looking like he belongs there. Derek doesn’t say anything to him, just lifts his arm to make room for Stiles and Stiles almost fucking melts at the tentative smile Derek gives him. Derek smiling is a thing that should happen all the time, he decides then and there. He almost trips over himself to get to Derek and can’t get over how perfect he fits into Derek’s body as they lie next to each other on the bed with Derek’s arm around him. He can’t help but touch Derek, he’s stroking his palm over Derek’s abs, over his pecs and down his arm. He knows they have a lot to talk about, but he can’t for the life of him figure out how to start the conversation.

“You’re being very quiet.” Derek says.

Stiles hums and keeps stroking Derek. Stalling to gather his thoughts.

“I kinda like it…” Derek says and Stiles can hear him smirk.

He can’t help but smile himself and gives Derek a slap on the chest. “Hey now. Don’t front, you know you love my babbling.” He says and is suddenly extremely thankful for Derek’s attempt at diffusing the tension.

“I kinda do…” Derek says.

Everything in Stiles just stops. He takes a deep breath and then gets up on his arm to look at Derek. He’s got a thousand things he could say, but he doesn’t want to make light of Derek’s confession. Not when he’s finally got confirmation that Derek is feeling the same way about him. He is looking into Derek’s eyes and Derek is holding his gaze, looking more and more panicked as time passes without Stiles saying anything. Finally it seems to be too much for him as he starts to make moves to push Stiles away to get out of the bed.

“Hold on, dude!” Stiles says a bit too loud and pushes him back down on the bed with his palm. “I’m not trying to figure out a way to let you down easy you know, I’m trying to figure out how to tell you that I love you too!”

Derek just looks at Stiles for a while before he says “I guess that works just fine.” And then his face lights up in the most amazing smile ever and Stiles just has to lean forward and kiss him. Their lips are barely touching as they are both grinning, but it’s one of the best kisses Stiles has ever had.



When Stiles wakes up the next morning he is so warm and comfortable that it takes him a while to figure out that he is being cuddled hard by Derek. As he blinks his eyes open Derek tightens the grip he has on Stiles waist and says “You’re finally awake.”

Stiles buries his face in Derek’s bicep and muffles out “It’s too early for talking…”

Derek chuckles and slowly rolls them so Stiles is on his stomach being covered completely by Derek on top of him.  “Is it too early for this as well?” He asks as he starts kissing Stiles’ neck, pulling the edge of his T-shirt down so he can reach even further.

Stiles makes a strange whimpering sound in his throat, that he will forever deny to make, and can’t help but tip his head making more room for Derek to kiss. “It’s never too early or too late for that, dude.”

Derek continues to kiss him as he slowly removes Stiles’ clothes. His briefs are the last to go. Derek pulls them off and then situates himself on top of Stiles, covering him completely, making every synapse in Stiles’ brain fire from sensory overload. His hard dick is cradled between Stiles’ cheeks like it was made to fit there and Stiles can’t believe how turned on he is with the display of power. He’s never been one for dominance-play before, but just knowing that Derek could break him with a little finger, but is choosing not to, makes all the difference apparently. Stiles is rock hard, and would be humping the sheets were it not for the substantial weight holding him down. He is completely at the mercy of Derek.

Derek trails kisses down his cheek and he lets up enough that Stiles can twist his upper body so he can reach Derek with his lips and they finally kiss. The kiss turns dirty fast with Derek fucking into his mouth with his tongue like a promise of what to come.

Derek pulls back from the kiss and lets up enough that he can dribble some lube onto Stiles’ ass. Some lands in his crack sliding down his hole but Derek just directs the rest with his fingers to Stiles’ hole where he proceeds to push it in with a couple of fingers. The sensation of cold lube being pushed into his ass makes Stiles gasp and squirm. Derek just holds him down on the bed with a determined hand on his neck and says: “Lie still.”

Stiles closes his eyes at the feeling of fingers in his ass. Derek just keeps on pushing lube in, not even scissoring his fingers or trying to prep him in any way. Just making him wet enough for Derek’s dick. Stiles knows he could say no, that this is going to hurt like a bitch. But he doesn’t really want to. He wants everything Derek has to give him, he wants to be held down and made to take it in whatever way Derek wants to give it to him. He was in control the last time they did this, so this time he lets Derek do it his way.

He can feel Derek shift on the bed, covering him again with all his weight, and then he can feel the tip of Derek’s dick pressing against his rim. It’s hard bearing down and relaxing when you know it’s going to hurt. With a bit more pressure the tip breaches his rim and Stiles gasps at the feeling. He tenses all over from the pain but Derek just hums at him, rubs his face into the space between Stiles’ shoulder blades and keeps telling him that he can take it. “You were made for this, you were made for me. Just relax, you’re doing good, relax Stiles…”

And Stiles takes a couple of deep breaths to let go of the tension in his muscles. Derek slowly but surely pushes into him and by the time he bottoms out, Stiles has let go completely and is a limp mess on the bed. There’s pain for sure, it does hurts a lot, but at the same time there’s pleasure there that Stiles didn’t expect. At least not from the get-go. The idea of Derek making a place inside him, pushing and prodding until he fits in Stiles is making Stiles’ skin heat up and his dick stay hard. And as Derek starts slowly moving inside him, not even giving him time enough to adjust to his size and intrusion, Stiles’ dick starts oozing precome like it didn’t get the memo about the pain.

Derek’s weight is pushing Stiles down onto the bed, and his arms are bracketing Stiles’ head. Stiles is completely covered and surrounded from head to toe by Derek and it is so overwhelming that he has to hide his tears in his pillow. Derek shushes him, but keeps moving inside him, just lazily pulling out and pushing in, and it feels so good that Stiles is going to burst out of his skin, everything is too tight. Only the sound of Derek’s voice in his ears is keeping him still, is making him take it.

Slowly Derek’s pace increases. The change is minuscule but it’s enough to make Stiles’ skin break out in a sweat. He tries really hard to keep his body relaxed but it’s getting harder and harder. Derek is making him feel so good, so much, that it’s almost impossible not to hang on to something, not to scream out loud. His fingers are grabbing at air and Derek seems to sense the change in Stiles. He grabs hold of his wrists and pushes them down into the bed with both hands. “Stay there.” he says and if feels like a command that Stiles can’t disobey. Then Derek pushes his legs apart with his knees, just to make his access easier, and puts both hands down on his shoulders. He puts his weight onto his hands so Stiles is buried almost completely into the bed, with almost no way of moving except to push his hips up a little, and then Derek gets rough. He pushes into Stiles hard, so hard that Stiles body is bouncing on the bed and the bed is giving his poor neglected dick some lovely friction, just not quite enough, and before he has even recovered Derek slams into him again. He changes the angle a little bit by putting more weight on his hands and then he slams into Stiles again and this time he’s spot on hitting his prostate. Stiles’ eyes rolls back into his head and he loses all ability to think and function. He is reduced to a mass of pleasure, all he can do is feel.

Derek sounds husky and breathless as he says “There you go.” And then he just keeps on nailing Stiles’ prostate. Stiles is on overload, he can feel his orgasm building but there’s so much sensation that he’s almost not sure that he’s not already coming. He has no way of touching his dick, he can barely breathe with the way he’s pushed down into the bed. Derek transfers his weight to one hand in between his shoulder blades and puts his other hand around Stiles’ throat. Derek lifts his head gently, just putting the smallest of pressures on his throat, but the implications of how easy he could choke Stiles makes Stiles almost swallow his tongue and his skin heats up even more.

In the distance he can hear someone making very loud noises, but it takes him a while to realize that it’s himself. He’s never sounded like this before, frantic, desperate and loud. ”Derek… Please… Derek!” He says, but doesn’t really know what he’s asking for. Derek shushes him again and then he manhandles Stiles onto his lap, with Stiles’ legs bracketing Derek’s, making it impossible for him to move. He’s completely at Derek’s mercy again, and it doesn’t even scare Stiles. He didn’t realize until this second how much he actually trusts Derek. Derek’s hand is still tight on Stiles’ throat, his other arm around Stiles’ waist holding him up. This position makes Derek go even deeper and he uses his strength to push Stiles down on his lap, slamming Stiles roughly onto his dick.

Derek is breathing hard, he’s cursing and saying Stiles’ name again and again, and Stiles can feel himself being pushed closer and closer to the edge. His dick is slapping against his stomach with each rough shove and as he can feel himself on the crevice he puts his hands on Derek’s arms to have something to hold on to and then he just lets go. He can hear himself scream, he can feel Derek tightening his hold on him, and he can feel his dick shooting his brain out. He’s never felt anything like this before. The world stops around him, nothing exists but them and this feeling of falling. Through it all Derek is grinding into his prostate, prolonging it for Stiles. It seems to go on forever, Derek doesn’t let up, just keeps stabbing his prostate with surgical precision, until Stiles is so oversensitive that he feels like he’s dying. Derek is moving more and more frantic, losing his rhythm and then finally Stiles can feel him coming. He keeps Stiles pinned on his dick through it until he is spent as well and then he falls forward, crushing them both into the bed completely boneless.

Stiles is still breathing hard, can’t seem to get enough air into his lungs, his mind still blissfully blank. He’s never had that long without any thoughts, not even the best kind of medicine has left him so focused and relaxed as he is right now. All his muscles feel like jello and he’s not sure he could move if the house was falling down around him. His throat is sore, in fact, everything is sore. He can feel himself smiling, and as his senses opens to the world he can hear Derek breathing hard as well. Suddenly he can’t help but chuckle, he just feels so relaxed and open. It’s almost like he’s high.

He can feel Derek smiling as well. Derek kisses his shoulder and says “Did I break you?” with this really rough voice that almost doesn’t sound like Derek. Stiles smiles even more. He can’t even speak yet, doesn’t trust his voice to hold. Derek is still lying on top of him, and it’s as if they realize it at the same time. Stiles is amazed at how much he enjoys feeling Derek’s weight on top of him, it’s never been a thing for him before, he’s not even sure he’s even noticed it before. Derek slowly pulls out of him, earning a small whimper from Stiles, before he just slides to the side, still lying half on top of Stiles. It brings their faces real close to each other and Stiles can’t help but smile wide as he takes in Derek’s face. He looks young. Elated. Happy. In love. And Stiles can’t believe that he was the one who put that look on Derek’s face. He’s responsible. He can feel the butterflies in his stomach again. But this time he knows what to call that feeling.

He looks at Derek, really looks. Allows himself to take him all in now that he’s allowed. And then he says “Yeah. I think you did.” and smiles. And he doesn’t have to say I can only be with you now or I can’t imagine ever wanting anybody else. Derek looks at him as if he knows everything anyway. And his blinding smile leaves Stiles breathless all over again.



 The End.