When Stiles enters his own bedroom, Derek barely gives him time to shut the door before crowding him against the wooden surface. “Where have you been?” he barks in Stiles’ direction.
“Good to see you too,” Stiles mutters sarcastically. Because manners? They stand to Alphas the same way pink, furry handcuffs stand to Mr. Argent. Which, also, ugh.
Of course, Stiles’ remark of Derek’s lack of etiquette doesn’t seem to strike home, because Derek just keeps staring at him in his famous I momentarily run out of verbal threats but I still can eye-intimidate you into talking way. Stiles blinks, definitely puzzled more than intimidated, and rewinds his last hours in the faint hope of finding a clue, something that can help him understand why Derek is suddenly acting like Stiles just run over his puppy. Twice.
He doesn’t find anything that would explain Derek’s behavior, though, so he just resigns to verbally sum up his afternoon to Derek. “Well, I was going to Scott’s, but one of my Jeep’s tires decided that it wanted to get all friendly with a nail, and so I had to stop by Alex’s plac-” but Derek doesn’t give him time to finish, suddenly invading his space and his teeth, his fangs, are out in a blink of an eye, a growl slowly rolling in the depth of his throat.
“Who is Alex?” he demands, hands finding Stiles hips and trapping them.
In reply, Stiles half-laughs. A short, nervous puff of air that makes Derek’s grip tighten, fingertips pressing into tender flesh as his growl grows louder, angrier. “Alex, my mechanic,” Stiles clarifies - and, come on, is this really what the whole matter is about? -, “as I was trying to say before you went all berserk on me. Just a suggestion here, but maybe you should consider signing up for one of those anger management courses, buddy.”
Derek’s grip doesn’t loosen, though. He just gets closer to Stiles, lowering his head and burying his nose in the crook of his neck, inhaling in the same way Scott does at times, all short intakes of air and imperceptible grunts. It’ll never cease to creep the hell out of Stiles. Yet, despite it, he allows Derek to take a hold of his nape, tilts his head back when Derek’s fingertips press against sensitive skin. ”I can smell him all over you,” Derek growls, licks a long, wet stripe over the side of Stiles’ bare neck.
Stiles closes his eyes, feels a sudden surge of strong, liquid heat pooling in his groin. “Oh, well, yes,” he mutters - why has this licking thing having to be so distracting? -, “the guy gets a little bit handsy at times, maybe that’s why-” he’s cut off by Derek literally snarling against the tender spot of skin under his ear.
Against every natural rule, the sound sends chills running down Stiles’ spine.
“Handsy,” Derek echoes. And Stiles can almost hear his fangs screeching one against the other, almost as if he’s sharpening them in anticipation of all the amount of dismemberment he’s gonna do.
And it’s not that Stiles cares much of what will happen later, because there is some serious, and hundred percent consensual, sexual harassment going on here and he fully intends to enjoy it the way it deserves, but Alex is a good guy, and Stiles likes him- Because what’s not to like in a really attractive guy who also applies a 20% of discount on you?
(Well, maybe it might have something to do with the fact that Stiles’ father is the sheriff and that every time one of the police’s cars is broken they take it to Alex’s workshop, but still.)
Derek moves onto the lobe of his ear, sucks it inside his mouth and tongues it in a way that makes Stiles whimper. He opens his mouth. “Yes,” he says, moans, “because he- Oh. He’s known me since when I still w- wore diapers?”
And, thank God, Derek eventually seems to get it, because his hands are suddenly moving, gripping Stiles’ jacket and sliding it off his shoulders, dropping it somewhere on the floor as he pushes Stiles towards his bed and his mouth, finally, finally, lands on Stiles’.
They fall on the bed with a muffled sound, limbs tangled together as they try to get naked, clothes quickly flying everywhere as Derek works his way on Stiles’ body, hands and mouth roaming anywhere he can reach.
It’s fast, and hot, and Stiles almost can’t breathe with Derek’s body weight keeping him pinned on the bed and Derek’s fingers working their way inside his body. Derek is watching him, eyes intense and focused as he quickly slips his fingers out of Stiles. ”Where’s-” but he doesn’t need to finish as Stiles throws a small bottle in his direction.
It doesn’t take much to Derek to get himself into Stiles’ open and pliant body, and when it happens Stiles moans and arches off the bed, head lolling back as anything but pure lust rushes in his veins, as he pleads Derek to fuck him harder, to take everything from him, to make Stiles his.
And Derek does, again, and again, and again, pushing himself inside Stiles’ wet, red hole, owning him in a way no one will ever get to- “Inside you. Always,” he growls, his words suddenly assuming a double meaning as his teeth skid over Stiles’ skin, as he pounds into Stiles’ body and finally comes.
And Stiles can feel it happen, can feel the hot, thick spurts filling him, marking him, so deeply and completely- “Yes,” he moans. “Please. Derek, please.”
Maybe it’s the pleading, or maybe just the fact that Stiles looks so vulnerable in that moment, but Derek’s hand is on him in the span of a second, long, strong fingers engulfing Stiles’ dick and jerking it with fast strokes, guiding him straight over the edge as Stiles trembles one last, beautiful time, and comes all over his stomach and his chest.
Later, when Derek is done smelling him in places that Stiles doesn’t want to think about - because it still feels really, really awkward when Derek just dives his nose into the crack of Stiles’ ass and does nothing but sniff - and Stiles has placed himself in his spot under Derek’s arm, when everything is quiet and the afternoon is starting to make way for the sunset- Then, it’s time for Stiles to start talking again. Because silence? Not something he can work with, at least not when he is awake.
“By the way,” he says, leaving the phrase hanging in the air until Derek grumbles in reply. “I totally get why you are jealous, Alex is totally a fine piece of-” this time the kiss doesn’t catch him off-guard and, as Derek pushes him once again against the bed, Stiles thinks that, maybe, teasing the Alpha might have its positive sides.