Stiles thinks there’s never a good time for Derek and him to be truly alone. When Derek visits him at college, Stiles has a roommate with the annoying habit of being in their room at all hours studying for hours at a time —something Stiles should get in the habit of, but he cannot possibly think about when his boyfriend comes to visit.
Then there are times like now, when the whole pack is back from their respective colleges and Derek’s home is simmering with activity. It’s good for Derek to see his pack alive, well and thriving, but, since some of the wolves made Derek’s place their homebase, it’s terrible for Stiles’ sexual life. He loves the pack, truly, but he doesn’t want them to hear everything that goes on between him and Derek. They already know too much from all the times they’ve walked in on them in the middle of something.
That’s why he’s more than content to just lay down next to Derek as they look up at the stars and Derek recounts stories from some of the customers he had at the shop that day. It relaxes him, knowing his boyfriend had a mundane day where no supernatural shit went down and the craziest thing that happened was a woman asking if they could pimp up her ride to look like Barbie’s car.
Eventually, Derek falls silent and Stiles drags his eyes away from the sky to look at him, only to find Derek already gazing back at him.
“What?”
“Do I need a reason to look at you?”
Stiles wants to say something snarky back, but he finds Derek’s eyes focusing on his mouth and all Stiles can think about is kissing him, so he does.
Derek meets him halfway, already tuned into Stiles’ every move, their lips crashing like two waves against the shore, fitting against each other as they have so many times. Stiles’ hand finds its way to cup Derek’s face, where the man nuzzles his cheek playfully before kissing Stiles again, this time harder, more insistent. Stiles welcomes it, licking Derek’s lips before they part, giving him access to his soft, warm mouth.
Stiles becomes hungry easily and finds himself panting when Derek bites his bottom lip. Emboldened by his lust, Stiles flips Derek so he’s laying on his back and straddles him, grinding against Derek’s crotch to find the man already hard in his pants.
Suddenly, Stiles wants more, more of Derek until he’s the only thing he’s aware of, more until he bursts at the seams with it.
“We should go home,” says Stiles, in between kisses.
“Okay,” Derek replies, but kisses Stiles once more, hungry and feral, a low growl in his throat that goes directly to Stiles’ pants.
They kiss on the ground for a while, long enough that Stiles begins to wonder if they’re actually going to fuck in the middle of the woods, but then Derek stops Stiles and gestures to the jeep.
Stiles quickly gets up —stumbling in his haste, but staying upright by sheer force of will— and gets into the car, turning the key in the ignition just as Derek sits in the passenger seat.
The car does not start.
“Come on, baby. Don’t do me dirty like this,” he says, turning the key once more. Nothing happens. “Roscoe, please,” he begs.
The car sputters then dies.
Silence fills the car as Stiles hits his head against the wheel, accidentally honking and startling some animals in the dark by the sound of it.
“We should’ve taken my car,” adds Derek.
“Not helpful.”
“I can call a tow,” he suggests.
Stiles glances at Derek, his profile vaguely illuminated by the moonlight outside. He wants to kiss him so bad, it’s ridiculous.
“We could keep kissing,” he suggests.
Derek rolls his eyes but crosses the distance between the seats to reach Stiles, kissing him softly. Stiles’ mind can’t complain, even when Derek feels too far away for his liking.
Time passes differently when they kiss, Stiles has noticed. Today, it feels as if every second they’ve lived so far has led to this, to the moment where Stiles’ distracted brain wonders if it would be too much to climb over the gears to sit on Derek’s lap.
“What are you thinking about?” Derek asks against his lips, noticing his mind wandering.
Telling the truth would be embarrassing for him, so he lies.
“I wanna climb you like a tree.”
Okay, so not really a lie.
Derek smiles and pulls away, looking for Stiles’ gaze. “Is that so?”
“Man, don’t make this awkward and let me sit on your lap,” he practically begs.
“You could just ask,” Derek replies, his voice low enough to be a growl.
Without any finesse, Stiles climbs over the gears —hitting his left knee in the process— until he’s straddling Derek once again. This time definitely more intimate than their quick makeout session outside. Stiles would’ve teased Derek about his boner, but now that he can feel Derek’s dick against his ass, his own cock is getting interested.
He experimentally grinds his ass down on Derek, his face heating up with the filthy moan that leaves his boyfriend’s mouth.
“God, do that again,” Derek all but demands.
Stiles leans down and kisses him, canting his hips down once more. Derek’s mouth opens with more moans that Stiles swallows down in a kiss. Derek’s hands slide under his t-shirt, his short nails dragging down Stiles’ spine making him groan. He grinds down on Derek once again in retaliation.
“Are we—” A kiss. “Really—” Another kiss. “Fucking—” A moan. “In my car?” Stiles asks, breathless.
“Unless you keep lube in the glove compartment”—says Derek kissing down his neck— “we’ll have to wait until we get home.”
“Fuck,” Stiles feels the prickle of Derek’s stubble against his skin as Derek nuzzles the spot where his neck meets his shoulder, but what really drives him to keep going is how breathless the wolf sounds as he inhales.
“Do you have any idea how fucking sexy you smell?” Derek asks.
Stiles doesn’t, but he still loves to hear Derek say it. He brings his hands to Derek’s face and catches his lips in a deeper kiss, grinding his ass down to the rhythm of their panting. It gets frantic quickly, Derek’s hands moving down his ass to keep him down for longer as Stiles leans his forehead against Derek’s.
He thinks he’ll never get used to this: the way his body fits against Derek’s perfectly, every movement a dance that seems to go on forever yet it never lasts long enough. Stiles rolls his hips down harder, making Derek throw his head back until it hits the headrest.
“I wanna get my hands on you so bad,” Derek says, a murmur almost lost in their panting.
“Your hands are on me, babe,” he replies through his hazy thoughts.
“You know what I mean.”
Stiles pulls back the slightest amount, looking down into Derek’s eyes. “You know it’s a yes. It’s always a yes.”
“Don’t always me,” he says, but he’s smiling.
Stiles moves his hips back just far enough so they have the space as Derek undoes his own fly, then Stiles’. Derek licks the palm of his hand before wrapping it around both of them. The moment Derek’s calloused hand is on him is exquisite, lighting every single of his nerve endings on fire.
“Oh fuck.”
“When we get home, Stiles,” he replies, jerking them off at a hurried pace.
Distractedly, Stiles thinks he’s not going to last much longer. He says as much to Derek, who takes it as a challenge and twists his wrist just so, thumb spreading precum down his shaft.
He leans down to kiss Derek, a moan on his lips that the man swallows, hungry for more.
It doesn’t last long after that, lost between kisses and the hand on his cock, just as he thought. Derek tightens his hand around them and Stiles finds himself canting his hips to fuck his fist. It’s quick and dirty and exactly what Stiles needs.
He comes with a long, drawn out groan, cum spurting to stain Derek’s t-shirt. Derek is not far behind, using Stiles cum as lube, an image Stiles is not going to forget any time soon.
“God, what the fuck,” Stiles says. “The novelty is not going to wear out any time soon.”
“Good,” says Derek. Then he wipes his hand on Stiles’ t-shirt.
“Hey!”
“If I’m going to go home wearing your bodily fluids, so should you.”
Stiles laughs, then kisses Derek one more time, biting down playfully on his bottom lip. “We should call a tow.”
Stiles straightens up at that. “Don’t worry, I’ll have Roscoe up and running in a few minutes.”
In the end, it takes almost half an hour before Stiles can get it to start, but eventually it does, so he drives to Derek’s place thinking of only one thing: tonight, the rest of the pack will have to find another place to hang out. He plans on keeping Derek occupied all night long.
Stiles shot a quick message to Scott that read omw to Derek’s and horny af, can u take the pack out? Which was replied shortly with tmi dude, then on it. By the time they arrive at Derek's, the house is empty and silent, but Stiles can see the signs of the pack all around him: Lydia’s books on advanced statistics, Isaac’s lacrosse stick next to the sofa, Scott’s hoodie haphazardly thrown on the coffee table.
None of that matters though, because the moment the door closes behind them, Stiles turns around and Derek’s hands are on his hips, walking them backwards until Stiles’ back hits a wall. Not long after, Derek’s lips are on his, his teeth playfully biting his bottom lip. Stiles opens up his mouth, welcoming Derek into it, their kiss deeping.
They kiss for a long time, until Stiles’ lips feel swollen, Derek’s hand sliding under his t-shirt, short nails drawing a path down his sides. The sensation, along with Derek’s lips making their way down his neck, clears his head enough for him to say, “bedroom. Now.”
Derek takes it as a command and his hands immediately fall to Stiles’ ass, then haul him up to carry him to the bedroom. They make it to the bed in between kisses, panting as they come apart when Derek lays him on the bed.
Derek removes his t-shirt and tosses it aside, giving Stiles a perfect view of his sculpted abs and delicious pecs. He wants to get his tongue on him immediately. Before he can voice his thoughts though, Derek says, “how do you wanna do this?”
Stiles doesn’t have to think twice about it. “I wanna ride you.”
Derek’s not one to blush easily, but Stiles enjoys it every time it happens. Now, as the man ducks his head to hide it, Stiles’ heart seems to grow another size with how much love he has for him. He’s also painfully aware of the growing bulge in his pants at the idea of riding Derek.
Stiles opens up his legs as Derek settles back on the bed, leaning forward to kiss him roughly. Sure, they got each other off an hour ago, but it was not the same as having him all to himself all night long. Derek’s hands roam down his body, settling on his hips, kissing down his neck, stubble burning his skin in all the right ways.
A groan escapes his mouth when Derek bites down on his neck, then sucks a mark that will get him mocking comments the next day when the pack comes home. Derek grinds his hips down, his cock hardening in his pants and Stiles becomes aware that there’s still too many clothes in between them.
When Derek pulls away slightly, a question in his eyes, Stiles almost rolls his eyes, but instead, he takes the opportunity to take off both his plaid shirt and his t-shirt with only some fumbling. Derek is smiling when Stiles looks up at him again.
“The things I want to do to you,” he says.
“Then what are we still doing with these clothes on?” Stiles shoots back.
“Brat,” he murmurs, but stands up and undoes his buttons while looking directly at Stiles.
Stiles, for his part, takes the opportunity to quickly undo his pants and pull them down with his underwear all at the same time. Derek takes his sweet, sweet time pulling his pants down, then his boxers. Stiles licks his lips when Derek’s cock is freed from his boxers. When he looks up at Derek, he’s smirking.
“Do you wanna suck it?”
“Thought you’d never ask,” he replies.
Stiles quickly goes to the side of the bed where Derek is standing, then sinks to his knees without preamble and takes him into his mouth as far as he can. A soft string of curses comes out from Derek’s mouth as Stiles swallows him all the way to his throat until he gags.
“Fuck, Stiles, you look so good on your knees for me.”
Stiles’ dick twitches at the praise. He bobs his head up and down then, sucking his cheeks in every once in a while, moaning when Derek runs his fingers through Stiles’ short hair.
“So good, Stiles. I’m gonna make you feel so good.”
He doesn’t know how long he’s sucking Derek’s dick, but enough time passes that his knees start to hurt when Derek pulls his hair hard enough to make him pull out.
“I thought you wanted me to fuck you.”
“I do,” he says, spit and precum running down his chin.
“Then get on the bed,” he orders.
Stiles does so, laying on his back while Derek gets the lube from the bedside table. He opens up his legs when Derek climbs on the bed, feeling a little exposed, but the feeling is quickly replaced when Derek’s hand cups his balls, his lubed fingers teasing around his hole.
“God, you’re gorgeous,” Derek says, wonder seeping into his voice.
“You just think that because I give amazing head.”
Derek shakes his head, smiling. “You’re an idiot, Stiles.”
Then, he proceeds to lick a strip from his balls to the head of his cock as he pushes his index finger inside of him.
Stiles moans at the feeling, his brain going a bit hazy from the sensation. He wants to say something teasing back, but Derek keeps mouthing at his cock, nuzzling at the base as he curls his finger inside, every sensation addictive in its intensity.
“You smell delicious,” he says.
It’s Stiles’ turn to blush, but he can’t linger on the heat on his face when he hears the tell-tale sound of a bottle opening and Derek’s finger disappears for a moment, only to come back with two fingers sliding inside.
Stiles swears under his breath, but it’s still loud enough for Derek to pick up.
“How’s that feel?” he asks
“You’re such a tease.”
Derek’s soft laugh fills the room and all Stiles wants is for him to just fuck him, but Derek is nothing if not careful and he takes his sweet time opening him up, his fingers brushing against his prostate with every other pump.
Stiles is writhing with pleasure by the time Derek pushes in a third finger and Stiles can’t take it anymore.
“For the love of fuck, will you just put your dick inside me?” he exclaims, exasperated.
Derek pulls his fingers out then, a smile on his face as he moves up to kiss Stiles. It’s a filthy, openmouthed kiss that feels like it could stop time, but Stiles is beyond it now. He pushes Derek until the man is lying on his back and straddles his hips, dragging his hips up and down Derek’s dick until the man moans his name.
“I’m gonna ride you so well, I’m gonna ruin it for everyone else.”
“There’s not gonna be anyone else, Stiles. Don’t you know that by now?”
Stiles' heart can’t take it, so instead of replying, he lines up Derek’s cock and sinks down, a groan on his lips.
Derek’s hands grip his hips strong enough to bruise, but Stiles couldn’t care less, canting his hips up and down, loving the fullness of Derek’s thick cock inside him. He gets lost in that feeling, every time Derek hits his prostate a curse falls from his lips, making him see stars.
Derek murmurs something that gets lost between the sound of skin on skin, but Stiles is curious and leans forward, stealing a quick kiss before asking, “what was that?”
“I’m gonna fuck you so good you’ll forget about everyone else.”
“Is that a challenge, Derek?”
Derek doesn’t wait for an answer and, holding Stiles close, he flips them over until Stiles is laying on his back. Then, Derek pushes his legs back, opening them wider, and fucks into him with a hunger that’s reminiscent of the first time they fucked, all groans and bared teeth.
It doesn’t take long for Stiles to get close after that, and he’s about to take his cock into his hand when Derek says, “did I give you permission to touch what’s mine?”
Stiles could’ve come with that alone, but then Derek’s hand starts jerking him off, just barely out of sync with his thrusts and Stiles is coming like he hasn’t done in a long time: his vision whites out and he’s completely disconnected from reality while feeling every nerve ending in his body on fire.
Derek keeps fucking him until his prostate is sensitive enough that he wants to speak up, but Derek, in his infinite knowledge of Stiles’ silences, pulls out and jerks off until he paints Stiles’ tummy and chest with his come. Then, he collapses half on top of him, making more of a mess than before.
They stay like that, wrapped in each other for a moment longer until Stiles can’t take it anymore. He’s never been known for shutting up for a long stretch of time.
“You really want to ruin it for everyone else,” he says.
“I’m trying to make sure there’s never gonna be anyone else,” Derek mumbles against his neck.
“There’s never gonna be anyone else, don’t you know that by now?” Stiles says, echoing Derek’s words.
Derek takes the opportunity to kiss him, all tongue and teeth, with a possessiveness that he’d tease him for later. Right now, all that matters is that they are here and they’re together.