I don't own teen wolf.
Stiles is full set on looking at Derek until he disappears. Somehow, through all the hassle, he didn't realize that when Scott and Isaac put the unconscious Derek on his bed, Derek would be, well, unconscious on his bed. And Derek didn't look like the best sleeping partner either. Where was Stiles supposed to sleep now?
Why was it even him? Scott explained that 'Derek had the same gift as his mother, and shape-shifted fully into a wolf, but he can't control it, and Deaton said after the exertion he won't wake up for at least three days.' And apparently 'the rest of them are dealing with really serious business, that's too dangerous for Stiles.' He won his agreement by saying that 'Stiles is a part of the pack too, so he should take care of the alpha.'
Stiles scowled. He did take care of the alpha, even before he was pack (well, Derek did protect him then too). Which didn't mean he wasn't bothered by his current situation.
He decided that, if he has to sleep on the floor, he will at least get his duvet back. It's not like the wolf needed it.
But when he uncovered the alpha he realized what a bad idea it was. You see, when he went back home he only saw Derek in his bed and the baby-wolfs standing nearby. He didn't know that they put him in unclothed. Completely unclothed.
He stood for a while, unable to do anything. He looked at the body atop the sheet. Uncensored. Full view. Derek's body.
He knew he had this strange reactions to the older man, but he subconsciously pushed it back to the far back of his mind. It worked till now; Derek's handsome, oh okay, Derek's so close you could kiss him, oh okay, Derek's naked in your bed, oh… that's not okay. That's very not okay. The world hated him.
But it's not like it's something bad, right? He's just watching. Derek couldn't do anything to him for it, because he was sleeping.
Fuck. Why did Derek have to be so fucking perfect? Why did he have to have this sexy body and this fucking beautiful eyes, that Stiles couldn't see right now? Seriously, why even his flaccid cock looked so fucking nice? And don't understand Stiles wrong, he's not into dicks. They're not pretty things. But Derek's was, because he was Derek fucking Hale and everything about him was beautiful. And Stiles wanted to get fucked by him.
… Or fuck him.
Now, it might be a crazy idea, but a completely hot one at the same time. Derek for once being submissive.
And Stiles understood that it's the occasion that fortune gave him for all the disadvantages. It's not like a little peck would hurt right? So he hovered over the wolf and put his lips delicately on his. He had this strange sensation that Derek would wake up any moment now. The room was so quiet, he could hear his own racing heart.
Derek's lips were amazing. Totally unresponsive, but amazing all the same.
After a minute of Derek not waking up, Stiles used his hand to open the man's mouth a bit. And he stuck his tongue in. So okay, he was now full on French kissing Derek, but it's not like he was molesting him.
Except, he kind of was. He wasn't sure when his right hand traveled from his chin to caress his abs and stomach lovingly. And he definitely had no idea when his other hand wandered under his own pants.
Okay, that was wrong. Molesting anybody, especially while they were unconscious was just plain wrong.
Stiles rested his forehead against the alpha. "I'm sorry." He whispered. Derek didn't deserve it. It wasn't his fault Stiles was a perv. "I'm so sorry."
And surely, universe must accept his apologies. Surely, the universe understood. It created Derek Hale the way he was now.
Looking up at the man's face did nothing for calming his uncontrollable erection. Stiles knew he was beyond the point of stopping.
He kissed Derek's mouth again tenderly. And it felt nice, because Derek couldn't reject him. He was naked for Stiles, like an especially mouth-watering dish in the best restaurant. But Stiles couldn't afford such restaurant so he stole spoonful of what he could get.
He covered his chin and neck with small kisses, testing the meaty flesh of Derek's tights with a hand. Simultaneously he unzipped his pants and grabbed his erection through boxers. He tried to keep his little sights and moans to himself. It seemed that if he made a sound he would disturb the sleeping man.
But soon palming himself through the material wasn't enough, so he slipped the boxers off, all the while licking Derek's flesh hungrily. He wanted to bite. He almost did, but wasn't sure the injury would heal itself before Derek regains consciousness.
Somehow, his right hand ended up on Derek's cock. It wasn't reacting to his touch which was good. It also made Stiles sad. He wanted to see this dick stand proudly for Stiles.
And that thought made him sped up with his jerky movements over his own equipment.
Derek's cock wouldn't stand for Stiles, because Derek didn't like Stiles, not like the teenager wanted.
Derek was stupid, Stiles decided and kissed him.
Because even stupid Derek was a Derek he loved.
Or not, because you don't just use the body of someone you love to get off. You don't do that.
But Stiles wanted to forget that, because right now his cock was leaking precome. And if he didn't hurry his Dad would return home and see him like this.
"Why are you so beautiful?" Stiles asked mouthing Derek's ear. "I hate you so much. You're not even bad at all. You always save me, and you act like you're mad at me at all times, but really you just care about me. You would make it so much easier by hating me."
His right hand slipped a little and now it was circling Derek's hole. And just, no. He couldn't do it. That would be way too much of an intrusion, completely unfair, and anyway Derek would surely feel his fingers somehow.
With all his force of will he moved the hand to Derek's soft hair instead. He played with his fringe. He sped his movements on his cock to almost a brutal pace.
"Wake up." He whispered. "Open your eyes and be mad at me. Chop of my arm or whatever. Please, wake up and do something, because if not I'm gonna-"
He came with a chocked off sob. All over Derek's stomach.
He braced himself on his hands next to the wolfs head and touched his nose to the other's.
"I love you." His voice was broken. "I love you, please wake up, I'm sorry, I love you, I didn't want to, I'm sorry…" His rant was dangerously close to sobbing so he stopped. He didn't want the werewolf covered in yet another substance.
He gave Derek a quick, apologetic kiss and clothed himself. Then he washed Derek's body with a wet towel and got him into sweatpants.
He predicted that when the wolf wakes up, it will be hard to look into his eyes, but he still wasn't prepared. So when Derek woke up and looked around himself terrified and then calmed down after seeing Stiles, the boy was completely devastated. Derek relaxed, he trusted Stiles. Because no one seemed to notice how sick Stiles was inside his own head.
Derek felt strange when he regained full consciousness. Stiles went to the kitchen for food and water, so Derek had time to get back to his senses. And his senses told him that something was wrong. Because when he licked his lips he tasted something. Something that smelled suspiciously like Stiles' saliva. But he must be wrong because no one, even Stiles, was stupid enough to kiss a sleeping werewolf.
I'm sorry, I don't know what I'm writing anymore. Also, it's really late in Poland and I probably made a shitload of mistakes.
Um, review, please?