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Break Down, Build Up

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"No, no no no no no, please no, don't do this to me, baby,” Stiles groaned as his jeep gave a sad clunk and died right there on the road. Stiles steered onto the shoulder and dropped his head to the steering wheel with a drawn out noise of frustration. “I cannot believe you’re going to just give up on me like this after all we’ve been through.”

 

Stiles gave himself another minute to whine before getting out of the Jeep and popping the hood. An exercise in futility, since Stiles knew next to nothing about cars, but it made him feel less helpless if he looked less helpless, so he did it anyways. When that inevitably failed to make the situation any clearer, Stiles climbed back into the car to look up mechanics on his phone. Of fucking course, this had happened a single week after Stiles had moved across the entire country, so he was starting from scratch.

 

Stiles got lucky and found a place that would tow him for free on his second call, so he committed right then and there.

 

The truck showed up twenty minutes later, manned by a big, burly guy with obvious yellow ‘W’s sewn into the backs of his work gloves and who wasn’t much for talking. Stiles chattered aimlessly to try filling the silence, but the grunts and suspicious glances he got for his efforts were really not worth it. He petered off and let silence claim them for the ride to the garage.

 

Stiles slid out of the truck when they arrived, looking around for an office. “Uh, hey,” Stiles sidled up to the driver, who had immediately started unhooking Stiles’ car from his truck. “Where am I supposed to go? Or do you run this whole thing yourself? Or…” Stiles trailed off under the force of the flatly unimpressed look the driver was leveling at him.

 

“Derek will be with you in a moment.”

 

“Okay, great, I’ll just… wait for Derek, then…” Stiles retreated to loiter awkwardly in the driveway, praying for a savior.

 

“Sorry to keep you waiting.”

 

Stiles whirled around to find a wet dream of a guy walking towards him in a ribbed tank top that probably used to be white, wiping filthy fingers on a rag. Stiles’ eyes roved over tattooed skin until they stuck on the ugly, knotted ‘W’ branded into the guy’s neck. Stiles frowned at that; in his experience only the most backwards of places forced wolves to get extra brands.

 

“Derek Hale.” The guy held out a hand once it was mostly clean. There were two more ‘W’s burned into the backs of his hands, the usual way of identifying a werewolf.

 

“Stiles,” Stiles took his hand, “obviously, I’m the guy who called for a tow.”

 

Derek stared down at their interlocked hands for a moment before blinking and looking back up at Stiles’ face. “Sorry, we don’t get many humans coming in here.”

 

“Is it really that segregated here?” Stiles grimaced, thinking back on what little he knew about his own neighborhood. Werewolves only made up about 12% of the population, so Stiles had never lived anywhere with tons of them, but he had already run into a few on the streets around his apartment.

 

“No, it’s just my family’s kind of well known around here.” Derek pointed up at the “Hale’s Garage” sign above them.

 

“Oh.” That was probably why the free tow. Stiles jammed his hands in his pockets. “Well, I just moved here. From New York. So.”

 

Derek gave a tight smile. “That explains it. What can I help you with?”

 

“My jeep died on me, and I have no idea why.” Stiles waved a vague hand over his shoulder.

 

“Let me take a look, and I’ll see what I can find.” Derek started over to the jeep, which the driver had since completely unhitched from the tow truck. They easily pushed the jeep up the driveway, and then they just picked the thing up between the two of them and turned it the direction they wanted like it was nothing. Stiles felt his jaw drop. Derek turned back to him, his mouth open to speak, but his voice died and his face went distinctly pinched as he took in Stiles’ expression.

 

“I’m sorry if that made you uncomfortable,” he said carefully. “I should have warned you before-”

 

“No, dude,” Stiles cut him off, “that was awesome!”

 

“Oh.” Derek looked relieved, then turned to lift the hood and poke around inside the jeep, bending over some as he did so which drew Stiles’ eyes to his ass. And what a great ass it was. And it was attached to some really fine thighs, Jesus, it should be illegal for this guy to wear pants that tight.

 

By the time Derek turned around again, Stiles was paying special attention to his shoulders, so he got a lovely eyeful of collarbones. It took him a second to realize Derek was speaking, so he tuned back in to hear, “... need that part. Erica should be able to grab it tomorrow morning, so I’ll have it fixed up around 1 or 2 in the afternoon.”

 

“Okay, that sounds good. How much is this gonna run me?”

 

“$300.”

 

“Okay,” Stiles winced, “I can handle that.” He could pinch a little from his student loan payments to take care of it, at least. “Is there like, a bus stop nearby or a taxi system in this town, by any chance? I only moved here a week ago, so I don’t really have anyone to call.”

 

“Not really.” Derek frowned. “The closest bus stop is about five miles away, and at this hour,” Derek checked his watch, “you’re not gonna have much luck, they only run once every two hours after six.”

 

“Wow, okay, tiny town, got it,” Stiles grimaced, resigning himself to a long walk and a long sit at a bus stop. “Do you know where it is, or should I just google for it?” Stiles pulled out his phone.

 

“Um.” Derek looked down at the ground and shuffled his feet. “If you want to wait like thirty minutes, I could drive you home? If you wanted?”

 

“Dude, that would be great! Although, do you want to see where I live first? I don’t want to massively inconvenience you or anything.”

 

Derek waved off his objections, shoulders straight again. “It’s fine, really. Let me just finish up another job, then I’d be happy to.”

 

“That’s really good of you.”

 

“If you want a chair while you wait, there’s a couple extra in the office back there.” Derek pointed to a door in the back corner of the garage.

 

“Thanks!” Stiles trotted towards it, drawing up short when the tow truck driver glared up at Stiles when he entered the cluttered room. “Hey,” Stiles tried, “Derek said I could take a chair from in here?”

 

The driver stared at him for an uncomfortable moment. “Why do you need a chair?”

 

“Um, Derek said he’d drive me home after he finished working on something else, so I’m waiting for him.”

 

It took another long pause before the driver finally nodded his head towards one of the chairs.

 

“Great, thanks.” Stiles snatched the chair and turned to leave, but the driver stopped him.

 

“Whatever you’re thinking of doing with Derek, don’t. He doesn’t need a human in his life.”

 

Stiles frowned. “Okay, that’s not creepy at all. Derek seems like he is plenty capable of making his own decisions.”

 

The driver snorted and folded his impressive arms. “He may look that way.”

 

“Oh - kay, threat received. I will leave you to it!” Stiles fled back into the garage. Derek’s legs were sticking out from under a car, so Stiles set himself up at the front of the garage, both where he wouldn’t bother Derek, and where he wouldn’t be suffocated by the automotive fumes that permeated the place. He somehow still had a 50% charge on his phone, so he would be able to entertain himself until Derek was ready to leave, thank the lord.

 

===

 

“So, hey,” Stiles fiddled with his seatbelt as Derek pulled up to Stiles’ apartment building. “Would you take it out on my car if I hit on you right now?”

 

Derek gave Stiles a sidelong look as he shifted into park. “You’re asking permission to hit on me?” He seemed very skeptical when he finally looked at Stiles.

 

“Uh, yup, that’s what I’m doing.”

 

“Okay. Do it.”

 

“Do you wanna come up for dinner and sex?”

 

“Huh.” Derek drummed his fingers on the stick shift. “I was expecting something a little more elaborate.”

 

Stiles shrugged. “You seem like you might appreciate straightforward.”

 

“Can I ask you some questions?”

 

“Oh my god, is this a lie-detector interview? This is more serious than a government job, do you have a drug test for me, too?”

 

Derek gave him a flat look.

 

“Right, sorry, go ahead. I’ll do my best not to panic.”

 

“Why do you want to have sex with me?”

 

That caught Stiles completely off guard. “Because you’re hot like burning? Is this a weird self-confidence issue? ‘Cause I think a mirror might help you with that.”

 

“Stiles.”

 

“Sorry, sorry. I want to have sex with you because I am very sexually attracted to you. And you’re a mechanic, so you’re probably great with your hands, am I right?” Stiles grinned. This was going so much better than he anticipated.

 

Derek shifted in his seat. “Okay. Does knotting have anything to do with it?”

 

“Uh, I’m just gonna level with you and say that I was hoping to fuck you rather than the other way around.” Stiles winced. That probably sounded rude. “But, I mean, I’m flexible, if you don’t bottom or anything!”

 

Derek paused for a moment to squeeze the steering wheel. “That was a lie.”

 

“What? No, I am actually really into your ass, and would like to be in it in several different ways. Maybe your werewolf mojo is--”

 

“No,” Derek cleared his throat. “Not that, the other part.”

 

“Oh.” Stiles wilted a little. “The thing is, I’m pretty sure I am not prepared for knotting, either physically, psychologically, or spiritually, so if that’s not a thing you can, like, control, Imma have to say no to bottoming, but I have been told I give amazing blowjobs, so all is not lost?”

 

“That’s,” Derek nodded, “that’s fine. Back to you topping, is that some sort of dominance thing? You get to put a wolf in his proper place?”

 

“No!” Stiles had to stop himself from physically recoiling. “Dude, what kind of a person do you think I am? I am just very committed to great asses, and you happen to have one. That’s all there is to this. You’ll find I’m a very shallow person.”

 

“Okay.” Derek smiled a little. “In that case, where should I park.”

 

“What, that’s all? Seriously?”

 

“We can do more if you want.”

 

“Nope, I am very happy with this outcome! Just pull around to the back, mine’s number 314.”

 

Stiles was about ready to dance in place when he shot out of Derek’s car. “So, I’m not really sure what I have to actually eat at my place, I was kinda planning on delivery tonight. You have preferences? Or recommendations?”

 

“What kind do you want?” Derek pocketed his keys and followed Stiles inside and up the stairs.

 

“Um, I don’t know, Mexican? Or Italian?”

 

“There’s a pretty good Italian place near here. I don’t remember if they do delivery.” Derek pulled out his phone to look it up. “Yeah, they do,” he said as Stiles ushered him in Stiles’ front door. “Here’s the menu if you wanna look.”

 

Stiles took Derek’s phone as he set his messenger bag down by the kitchen table. “I could go for spaghetti. What about you?”

 

“Lasagna.”

 

“You mind if I call in on your phone?” Stiles’ thumb hovered over the phone number displayed on the website.

 

“Sure.” Derek leaned himself comfortably against the counter while Stiles placed their order. He tried to object when Stiles dug out his credit card, but Stiles waved him off.

 

“They said twenty minutes,” he declared when he hung up. He bounced on his toes for a few moments, while Derek just stared at him, until he blurted, “You want a drink? I’ve got the tap, milk, orange juice, and some Shiner.”

 

“Water’s fine,” Derek said.

 

Stiles grabbed him a glass and got some juice for himself. He wanted to have plenty of energy for the rest of the night. Derek tossed back a glass and a half of water before setting down his cup and leveling Stiles with a distinctly predatory expression. Stiles nearly dropped his own glass as Derek crossed the kitchen in two strides and boxed Stiles in against the counter.

 

“We’ve got twenty minutes to burn,” he murmured, centimeters from Stiles’ lips.

 

“Yeah,” Stiles mumbled dazedly as he pushed their lips together. Derek made a rumbly sound deep in his chest as he wrapped Stiles in his arms, and wow, Stiles had not expected growling to be so arousing. Derek was a fantastic kisser, not too obsessed with tongue and with a tendency to add in hot little nibbles on Stiles’ lips, and he smelled like sweat and a little like motor oil and gasoline, and Stiles was just very turned on right then.

 

Eventually, Stiles needed to breathe, but Derek had no such weaknesses. He hoisted Stiles up to sit on the counter and bit gently across Stiles’ jaw. He stopped at Stiles’ ear, tucking his nose behind it and intermittently breathing and licking over it. Presumably a werewolf thing. Stiles didn’t mind at all, since Derek had pulled Stiles’ hips flush with his own abs, which felt like an invitation to frottage if Stiles had ever had one before. He wrapped his legs around Derek’s waist, planted a hand on the counter for leverage, and went for it. Derek grinned against Stiles’ neck.

 

“Don’t even pretend you don’t know how hot you are,” Stiles muttered into Derek’s shoulder.

 

“It’s always nice to be flattered.” Derek pulled back and licked Stiles right across the mouth.

 

Stiles was shocked for a moment before he cracked a huge grin. “Oh my god, this is so awesome.”

 

Derek snorted.

 

“No, I’m serious!” I’ve never actually slept with a werewolf before, Stiles almost blurted before considering how badly Derek might react to that. Stiles had already passed Derek’s “Are you using me for my werewolfliness?” test, and he sure as hell didn’t want to work backwards. “So, the licking is a thing for you,” Stiles said instead. Derek sighed and rolled his eyes. “What about biting?”

 

“Not… biting,” Derek bared his teeth to illustrate, “more like nibbling.”

 

“Yeah? Show me,” Stiles smiled. Derek shot him an uncertain look before ducking down to Stiles’ neck, taking a long inhale before nibbling a slow line up Stiles’ throat. The sensation went straight to Stiles’ dick. He squeezed Derek’s waist between his thighs until Derek pulled back with a satisfied air.

 

“So, the nibbling is a thing for you?”

 

“Shut up.” Stiles tacked him with his mouth. Derek got a grounding hand on the back of Stiles’s head, and Stiles finally got his hands on Derek’s ass (it was everything he had hoped for). The doorbell startled them apart several minutes later.

 

Derek’s erection was less obvious, so he answered the door while Stiles tried to resist touching himself.

 

“Will you be able to get it up again after dinner if we get off now?” Stiles asked as Derek set the food on the table.

 

“Yes,” Derek snorted. “Werewolf, remember? The bigger question is: will you?”

 

“Wait, how many times could I get you off tonight?”

 

“I’ve never tried to find a limit,” Derek shrugged.

 

“But what’s your record?”

 

“I don’t really keep track….” Derek ducked his head and his shoulders tensed.

 

“Oh, come on, that’s gotta be something you remember!”

 

Derek just shrugged again, his face going pinched and his shoulders staying hiked around his ears, doing a good job of looking miserable.

 

Stiles’ heart gave an unexpected ache and he dropped the subject as much as he was ever capable of doing. “Come here, big guy.” He slid off the counter and grabbed Derek around the hips. “I am gonna suck you off, and then we are gonna eat, and then I’m gonna see how many times I can make you come.”

 

Derek relaxed as Stiles pushed him up against the counter and sunk to his knees, taking a moment to nose at Derek’s dick through his jeans before attacking his fly. Derek stared down at him with rapt attention, squeezing the lip of the counter until it creaked.

 

“Easy on the house,” Stiles grinned as he got his hand around Derek’s cock, “I cannot afford a new countertop, as flattering as it might be if you broke this one because of me.”

 

Derek took a deep breath, transfixed as Stiles stroked his hardening cock. Stiles used his free hand to trace Derek’s foreskin, prompting a shuddering breath from above him. He took several broad licks around the head of Derek’s cock before slipping the whole thing in his mouth. He eased his head back and forth a few times, sucking gently and working Derek’s cock with his tongue. He kept things soft and wet while he reached back to play with Derek’s balls, then reached a bold finger back to rub at Derek’s perineum, pleased when it earned him a shudder and an uncontrolled jerk of Derek’s hips.

 

It took a gratifyingly short time to have Derek shooting down Stiles’ throat. Stiles slid off carefully, licking at Derek a few times to clean him up, which caused Derek to release a punched out little breath.

 

“Good?” Stiles smirked at Derek’s blissed out expression. He got to his feet and wrapped his arms around Derek’s waist while he leaned in for a kiss.

 

“Very good,” Derek mumbled into Stiles’ mouth. He reached a hand down to brush at Stiles’ straining fly. “Can I?”

 

“Please do." Derek gripped Stiles firmly for a moment, then dropped to his knees to suck Stiles’ brain out through his dick.

 

“You are incredible.” Stiles melted down to the floor afterwards, leaning against the cabinets. His knees were really not up to doing their job any more. Derek got on all fours and started licking slowly up Stiles’ spent cock. Stiles twitched, hypersensitive, but the motion wasn’t painful, so he let Derek do what he wanted.

 

Derek kept after Stiles’ dick for a minute or two, then sat up on his haunches. “You ready to eat?” he asked, his voice sex-raspy from having had Stiles’ cock down his throat.

 

“You are going to be the death of me.” Stiles leaned forward to give Derek a filthy kiss before tottering to his feet and doing up his pants. Derek rose smoothly, because apparently he was graceful at all times, and plopped into a chair to sort out their food.

 

“So,” Stiles started as he twirled pasta around his fork, “you never did tell me your thoughts on bottoming.”

 

Derek smirked at him. “I’m all for it.”

 

Stiles couldn’t help being surprised. “Really? ‘Cause before you seemed a little hesitant.”

 

“You wouldn’t be the first to have a weird, specist fetish. But,” Derek shrugged, “since you don’t, my prostate and I are good friends.”

 

“Wow. I am so attracted to everything about you.”

 

Derek grinned and ducked his head. “That was why you asked me up, isn’t it?”

 

“Yeah, but I was kinda expecting flaws at some point.”

 

Derek snorted.

 

“So, uh, how long have you been a mechanic?” Stiles asked purely for the sake of keeping them from lapsing into silence for the rest of their meal.

 

“Since I learned fine motor control. We’ve had the garage pretty much since cars, so we all grow up into it.”

 

“Wow. So do you know everything there is to know about cars by now? How many generations of knowledge do you have packed up in that noggin?”

 

“I’m good at what I do.” Derek smiled. “And it was my great-great-great-aunt that founded the place.”

 

“And little ol’ me still doesn’t even know what’s wrong with his own car.”

 

“I told you what was wrong with your car,” Derek frowned as he straightened up, affronted.

 

“Yeah, and you’ve got great collarbones, very distracting.”

 

“You agreed to pay me three hundred dollars without even knowing what the problem is?”

 

“I mean, yes, that’s kind of why I’m paying you three hundred dollars.”

 

“For all you know, I could be replacing an air filter and charging you three hundred dollars.”

 

“Derek, the thing is, that doesn’t even sound ridiculous to me. I don’t care what you’re doing, if it makes my jeep run again, it’s worth three hundred dollars to me. Plus, I figure you wouldn’t be in business if you were blatantly scamming people.”

 

“I can’t believe you.”

 

“I have heard this lecture plenty of times, believe me. My dad is constantly getting into it with me.”

 

“But you aren’t even slightly interested in what makes your car move?”

 

“Sadly, no.”

 

“What do you do for a living?”

 

“Database interfacing and software development.”

 

“So you’re only interested in the virtual world?”

 

“Fuck you, that is such an aggressive stereotype to immediately throw on me!” Stiles laughed.

 

“Hey, it’s not like I’m bucking any trends myself.”

 

“But at least your stereotypes are all hot ones! I’m stuck with ugly, pasty, socially awkward reject.”

 

“But at least you’ll be a rich one,” Derek smirked as he stood with his emptied carton, snagging Stiles’ as he passed to toss them both in the trash. “Now, where’s your bedroom so I can show you how ugly I think you are?”

 

“You’re so rude, who says things like that?” Stiles grabbed Derek’s wrist and led him to the bedroom, where he was promptly pressed up against the door by two hundred pounds of warm skin and firm muscles. “Hello, Nellie,” Stiles murmured as he went in for a kiss. Derek pulled his head back and raised a judgemental eyebrow.

 

“Now who’s rude?”

 

“Ug, I’m sorry, my mouth just says things sometimes, you have to learn to ignore it. Come back here.” Stiles gripped the back of Derek’s head and reeled him back in, shoving their lips together and getting his hands all over Derek’s magnificent back. Stiles’ head was spinning and his pants were getting very tight when Derek pulled away several minutes later.

 

“Could I use your shower before we get to the main event?” Derek asked still dropping tiny kisses to Stiles’ tingling mouth.

 

“Yeah, I guess, if you want to,” Stiles slurred over Derek’s lips.

 

Stiles was abruptly abandoned in the middle of the room, blinking at the space Derek had occupied. The shower started up down the hall.

 

“You know, you’re only going to get sweaty again!” Stiles called down to the bathroom.

 

“Do you like the taste of motor oil?” Derek shot back over the noise of the water.

 

Stiles frowned. That was a good point. Especially since Derek had very suckable fingers. He briefly debated joining Derek in the shower, but thought better of it. Derek would've invited him if he wanted company, and Stiles wasn't a huge fan of shower sex when there was an alternative. He settled for stripping and getting out lube and condoms. And then a vibrator, just in case. He had promised multiple orgasms, after all, and, sadly, there was only so much he could do with his cock in a night.

 

He was trying to figure out how to splay himself seductively across the bed when Derek walked back into the room, still damp and completely naked.

 

"Hellooo --"

 

"If you call me Nellie again, I'm calling this off."

 

“Hey, I do have some degree of tact, I’d like you to know.”

 

“I’ll believe it when I see it,” Derek hummed as he herded Stiles backwards until Stiles fell onto the bed. Derek followed and rolled the both of them until Derek was spread out underneath Stiles, his thighs warm on either side of Stiles' hips. Stiles groaned and kissed him, rolling his hips lazily into the welcoming cradle of Derek's thighs. Derek's rough, heavy hands drifted up and down Stiles' spine, clutching periodically at his shoulder blades.

 

“What do you want, big guy?” Stiles panted when it started to get too much, pulling himself away from Derek’s body to get himself under control.

 

“You did promise to fuck me,” Derek smiled, running a bare foot up Stiles’ calf.

Stiles groaned. “That I can do.” He pressed a kiss to Derek’s cheekbone and leaned over to grab lube and a condom out of a drawer before shimmying down the bed to lick at Derek’s cock while he petted slick fingers against Derek’s hole. Derek rolled his hips up to meet Stiles, growling a little as he threaded fingers through Stiles’ hair.

 

… Yeah, the growling was definitely something Stiles had a thing for.

 

Derek was tight as Stiles pushed a finger in, but his legs fell open wider as he relaxed into the bed, hitching his hips down onto Stiles’ hand. Stiles watched hungrily as he worked up to two fingers, Derek’s hole pink and greedy around Stiles’ fingers.

 

“Can I lick you?” Stiles asked as he spread his fingers apart inside Derek, moving up to scrape his teeth over Derek’s hip.

 

Derek let out a shaky groan, letting go of the sheets with one hand to get a grip in Stiles’ hair. “Why would you even ask me that,” Derek panted, throwing his head back with a whine as Stiles curled his fingers to brush Derek’s prostate. “Fuck, oh my god, of course you can lick me, goddammit, Stiles.”

 

“Good,” Stiles pressed his smile to Derek’s abs for a moment before pulling back and taking his fingers out of Derek.

 

“No,” Derek gasped, grabbing Stiles’ wrist and pushing himself up to an elbow, “what are you doing?”

 

“Don’t worry,” Stiles leaned in to press a kiss to Derek’s open mouth, “I’m not anywhere close to done with you. I just wanna fold your legs up.” Stiles got his free hand under Derek’s knee and pushed his leg back towards his chest in example.

 

“Oh,” Derek exhaled. “I can do that.” He let go of Stiles to grab his own knees and bend himself like Stiles wanted.

 

“Wow,” Stiles breathed, smoothing a hand over Derek’s abs to feel them quiver with exertion when he had Derek like he wanted him. “How long can you stay like this?”

 

“As long as you want.” Derek smirked. “I’m a werewolf, remember?”

 

“Oh my god, that’s-- you’re incredible.” Stiles stopped holding back and bent down to dip his tongue into Derek’s hole. Derek’s whole body jerked underneath Stiles as Stiles pulled his tongue back to suck on Derek’s rim.

 

Derek whined high in his throat while Stiles wrapped an arm around Derek’s hips to hold him in place while Stiles pressed his fingers back into Derek’s body alongside his tongue. It didn’t take long to reduce Derek to a squirming mess like that, his hole loose and slutty around Stiles’ fingers and his cock a hot, hard line against the arm Stiles had wrapped around Derek’s stomach.

 

“You ready for me?” Stiles murmured against Derek’s perineum.

 

“Yeah,” Derek gasped, one hand clutching at Stiles’ knee, the other fisted in the sheets.

 

“Good.” Stiles maneuvered Derek until he was flat on his back again. “You want it like this, or you want to turn over?”

 

Derek licked his lips and looked up at Stiles through slitted lids for a moment before pushing himself up to lick a line up Stiles’ jaw to his ear, into which he growled, “I want you to mount me, and fuck me until I can’t remember my own name.”

 

Stiles swallowed hard as Derek rolled to his elbows and knees, staring back at Stiles up the provocative curve of his back. “Okay,” Stiles breathed out a shaky laugh as he grabbed a condom and fumbled it on, “no pressure, then.”

 

Derek smirked, dropping his eyelids a little more when Stiles pushed a bit more lube into him. Stiles nudged his cock up against Derek’s hole, looking up to make eye contact with Derek as Derek pushed himself down on Stiles’ prick.

 

Stiles groaned and met Derek halfway, shuddering when his hips met Derek’s ass. Derek dropped his head between his arms, and Stiles laid himself out over Derek’s back to whisper, “Let me know when,” into Derek’s ear. Derek nodded and shifted a few times while Stiles ran greedy fingers over Derek’s powerful torso and wrapped a hand around Derek’s cock, which was as hard as ever. Stiles made an approving noise and licked the curve of Derek’s shoulder. “How do you feel about me biting you?”

 

Derek let out a breathy chuckle and rolled his hips a little. “I’m all for it.”

 

“Hickeys?” Stiles groaned, tamping down on the urge to fuck into Derek before he was ready.

 

“Knock yourself out.” Derek wiggled under Stiles, spreading his knees some more and getting his elbows solidly underneath himself.

 

“Derek, you’re killing me here,” Stiles whined as Derek hitched his hips a little farther back on Stiles’ cock. “Either stop moving, or let me.”

 

Derek huffed out a laugh and switched his weight to one arm, reaching back to grab Stiles’ ass with the other. “Alright, Mr. Impatient.” Derek tilted his hips upwards. “Fuck me.”

 

“Derek, oh my god,” Stiles groaned as he stroked out and in, trying to keep his pace easy and mild until Derek growled, “Harder, Stiles, I want to feel you.”

 

Stiles nearly lost it at the rough scrape of Derek’s voice alone, but he got control of himself again after a brief stutter and anchored both hands on the bed so he could drive roughly into the welcoming clench of Derek’s body.

 

Derek made a growling noise that sounded like Stiles’ name and Stiles sunk his teeth into the meat of Derek’s trapezius, provoking a whine from Derek. Stiles pulled back quickly to make sure that was a positive sound. He couldn’t really see Derek’s face in their current arrangement, so he ran a firm hand up Derek’s spine and asked, “Doing okay?”

 

“Yeah,” Derek shuddered, “I’m good, I’m great, c’mon, Stiles.”

 

“Good.” Stiles bit much more gently over the knob of Derek’s spine before rearing back to get some better leverage. He planted one hand on the back of Derek’s head, which was resting on the bed, and got a solid grip on Derek’s hip with the other to start pounding him.

 

Derek let out a soft moan at the change in position, shuddering every time Stiles managed to stroke directly over his prostate. Derek wasn’t loud by any stretch of the imagination, but he was so very responsive; his breath stuttered with every touch he liked, and he moved so that Stiles’ cock hit him in just the right place to keep him gasping, unimpeded by Stiles’ weight on his back.

 

Sadly, there was a limit to the amount of time Stiles could remain this turned on before he came. He let himself slip down to Derek’s back again, one arm curled around Derek’s ribs for leverage and using the other to rub Derek’s cock, which was drooling and pressed up tight to his own belly.

 

“You’re so hard, Derek,” Stiles groaned. “You ready to come?”

 

Derek shivered and nodded, “Yes.”

 

“Yeah?” Stiles scraped his teeth up Derek’s spine, stopping to sink his teeth into the back of Derek’s shoulder while he thumbed over the head of Derek’s cock until Derek was shaking. “Come on, Derek,” Stiles murmured, thrusting faster now since he had less leverage, “I want you to come for me, all over my hand. I wanna lick it off your stomach--”

 

Derek interrupted with a high whine as he spilled over Stiles’ fingers. Stiles fucked him through his orgasm until he reached down to pull Stiles’ hand off his cock. “You want me to stop?” Stiles asked, stilling his hips with some difficulty.

 

“No.” Derek sounded gorgeously wrecked as he looked back at Stiles. “I want you to fuck me until you come.”

 

“Okay,” Stiles’ voice shook, “it’s not gonna take much longer.”

 

Derek smiled lazily and pushed back onto Stiles’ cock. Stiles moaned and planted his forehead on Derek’s shoulder, fucking up into him without finesse or skill until he came with Derek’s name in his mouth.

 

Stiles pulled out and tied off the condom before flopping back onto the bed, boneless and shivery. Derek rolled onto him, burying his face in his chest. He rubbed his stubbled cheek against Stiles’ peck a few times before settling, eyelashes fluttering against Stiles’ skin. Stiles threaded a hand through Derek’s still-damp hair, petting him while he dozed and admiring the brilliant colors in the burning forest that was tattooed from the middle of Derek’s forearm to his shoulder.

 

Stiles fell asleep for a little while, too, waking up to Derek rolling to his hands and knees and stretching above him.

 

“Hey,” he hummed, catching a hand around the back of Derek’s neck and drawing him into another kiss. Derek allowed the kiss for a moment before breaking away to tongue a slow path down Stiles’ neck. “Back to the licking again, I see.” Stiles stroked Derek’s shoulders.

 

Derek grumbled and continued lapping his way down Stiles’ throat. He stopped when he reached Stiles’ nipple, picking up his head to look Stiles in the eyes before leaning forward to lick into Stiles’ mouth. Stiles let him in with a pleased murmur, tugging at Derek’s hips until he was straddling Stiles’ stomach. “You know,” Stiles murmured against Derek’s lips, “I did promise you multiple orgasms.”

 

Derek pulled back and arched an eyebrow. “And now I’ve had two.”

 

“That hardly counts,” Stiles scoffed, “you had a whole dinner break between them.”

 

Derek hummed and ducked back in to rub his jaw against the side of Stiles’ face. “Is that what the vibrator’s for?” he asked as he moved to do the same thing on the other side of Stiles’ head.

 

“Well I don’t think I’m getting it up again tonight.”

 

“I don’t think I am, either,” Derek spoke into the ticklish space behind Stiles’ ear.

 

“Not with that kind of attitude you won’t.” Stiles squirmed until Derek moved back down to his throat.

 

“And what if I don’t want to?” Derek whispered the words into the crook of Stiles’ neck.

 

“That’s a different story entirely.” Stiles reached down to guide Derek’s face out of the shelter of Stiles’ own neck to where he could see him and the uncertain look on his face. The brand on Derek’s neck felt thick and rough under Stiles’ pinkey finger. “Hey,” Stiles soothed, his heart clenching a little as he imagined why Derek looked so vulnerable at that moment, “I don’t want to do anything that you don’t want, alright?”

 

Derek’s eyes flickered between Stiles’ for a moment before he nodded and ducked back down for a kiss.

 

“How about that second shower, then?” Stiles murmured once Derek had pulled away again.

 

“Maybe later,” Derek hummed, nuzzling into Stiles’ chest dangerously close to Stiles’ armpit.

 

“Oh man, is this a weird werewolf thing?” Stiles laughed, “You’re gonna luxuriate in the raw and primal scent of our sex?”

 

Derek stilled with his face still buried in Stiles’ chest. “Is-- would that be a problem?”

 

“Not in the slightest.” Stiles scratched his fingers through Derek’s hair and settled more comfortably in the bed. “Luxuriate away.”

 

Laying covered in drying come, sweat and ever-increasing amounts of saliva lost its luster after twenty minutes or so, so Stiles bothered Derek into standing up and getting in the shower with him. Derek was still far more interested in cuddling than getting clean, but it wasn’t like it was a hardship for Stiles to have the most attractive person he’d ever seen licking beads of water off of his shoulders while he got his hands all over Derek again by way of a washcloth.

 

After they were out of the shower, Derek draped himself over Stiles’ back while Stiles brushed his teeth. Stiles stared at the top of Derek’s dark head in the mirror where he had his face buried in Stiles’ neck for a while once he was finished. He bit his lip and took a deep breath as he reached up to scratch his nails through Derek’s wet hair. “You look pretty tired.”

 

Derek muttered something unintelligible and squeezed Stiles a little tighter around the middle.

 

“So I was kinda thinking that maybe you could stay for the night? I mean, since you seem so tired and all, I don’t think it’s very safe for you to drive right now.”

 

Derek picked up his head and propped his chin on Stiles’ shoulder, looking at him in the mirror from under heavy lids. “Okay.”

 

“Okay? Okay! Great!” Stiles couldn’t help the way his face split into a grin. “And I can make you breakfast in the morning as a thank-you for driving me home!”

 

Derek cocked his head. “I thought that was what dinner was for.”

 

“No, no, of course not, that was me wooing you, Derek, keep up.”

 

“Okay.” The beginnings of a smile played around the corner of Derek’s mouth. “Then I could drop you off at work after breakfast, and then drive you back to the shop at the end of the day to pick up your Jeep.”

 

“Derek, that’s really sweet of you, but you don’t have to, I’m sure I can--”

 

“I’m not doing this out of the kindness of my heart.” Derek’s smile was growing. “I think you’d owe me dinner again after all that.”

 

“Oh, really.” Stiles was fucking beaming through the mirror.

 

“Yeah.” Derek tucked his face in towards Stiles’ neck. “Maybe even more than one.”

 

“M-hm,” Stiles turned to smack a kiss to Derek’s temple, “I think that can definately be arranged.”