Warnings: Contains explicit sex between two men, strong language, and slight spoilers of season 3A.

Pairing: Sterek ( Stiles Stilinski/Derek Hale )

Teen Wolf © MTV; Jeff Davis

The sound of Stiles' head smacking against the headboard was a little less than graceful, and the grumble of curses that followed was even less so. The awkward fumble of limbs was hard to get past as Stiles squirmed around while Derek tried to get a hold of him. It was like trying to grab onto a snake or a slick pole, and Derek couldn't tell if Stiles actually thought this was how things went or if he was trying to squirm away. Either way, his new king-size bed was starting to feel too big and Stiles too small.

"Real nice place you got here. When'd you get it?" Stiles looked anywhere and everywhere that wasn't Derek and his big, hulking, naked werewolf chest. It was obvious his futile attempts to dodge the situation were starting to get on Derek's nerves, as if the glowing red eyes and angry growl were anything to go by. And don't get him wrong, Derek's place really was nice; at least, compared to the burned remains of his childhood home and the train station in the middle of nowhere. But it wasn't like this was the first time Stiles had been inside, nor would it be the last. Still, he continued to wiggle like a worm while those big hands grabbed at him to keep him still.

"Stiles, stop avoiding the situation," Derek growled, bringing his body above Stiles', which made him shrink back like a scared rabbit into his hole. Derek's intentions were far from trying to force Stiles to do something he didn't want to, but Stiles had never really given an answer. One minute he'd be grabbing onto Derek and breathing him in like he was the air in his lungs, and the next he'd be skittish and doe-eyed. And of course, asking him if this was okay was never good enough, because Stiles would just stammer and insist that it was, but have some excuse why they couldn't.

It had been a good month or so since the whole sparklers incident and, surprisingly, their 'relationship' was going pretty well. Stiles was still a teenager and Derek respected those boundaries, albeit just a year from adulthood, but this was just getting ridiculous. Stiles was a horny teenager, Derek could smell that on him, and Derek wouldn't mind waiting so much if Stiles didn't initiate something before chickening out and running off into the night. So tonight, Derek was getting an answer: yes or no.

"What do you mean? What situation?" Stiles laughed nervously and worried the inside of his lip, overgrown hair all messy from squirming around. Damn, if Derek didn't care about the kid so much he'd have wrung his neck by now.

"You know exactly what I'm talking about, Stiles. I'm sick of you dancing around the question before running off with your tail between your legs."

"Hey now, I'm not the dog here."

"Shut up!"

Stiles pursed his lips together and nodded his head, idly wiggling his toes at the end of the bed. Derek took a few deep breaths to calm himself down, his fists gripping the pillow at either side of Stiles' head.

"Look, I'm sick of repeating myself. I'm not going to force you to do something you don't want to do, and I think you know that. But for some reason you think that if you say no, I'll hate you forever or something and that's not the case." Derek sighed and pushed himself up, sitting on his haunches between Stiles' legs. "So I need you to tell me if this is okay or not, just yes or no. That's all. Because when you don't give me an answer, it gets my hopes up. And then… And then you do stuff like you did in the Jeep! And it just gets worse."

Stiles waited a few beats before he cleared his throat, like he was asking if he could speak. Derek met his gaze, his eyes that horrible shade of green that wasn't quite hazel, the ones that always took Stiles' breath away and made him weak in the knees; well, the red ones did that too, but in a different way. So Stiles draped an arm over his eyes so he was less inclined to melt into a puddle.

"It's not that I don't want to!" Stiles blurted, rolling halfway onto his side so he could hide his face better, which Derek knew gave Stiles some strange confidence to speak his mind. "Because I do, I mean, I'm a seventeen year-old guy. How could I not want to? Especially with you? And believe me, the fact that you even look in my direction makes me lightheaded and is still stupidly unbelievable. It's exactly that. I'm just a seventeen year-old kid and you're some kind of ridiculous Abercrombie werewolf! How am I supposed to compete with that? There's a reason I'm bench on the lacrosse team."

Stiles could feel Derek staring at him like he was stupid, mostly because it wasn't the first time Derek looked at him like that. And even as he thought about it, he found holes in his reasoning that Derek would no doubt chastise him for. All he had to do was wait.

"Well, I wasn't aware that this was a competition," yup, here it comes, "or that you think I should be working at an image-obsessed store. But you're really being stupid about all of this. And I think you know that, judging by the fact that you still won't look at me." Ouch.

Stiles could feel the bed shifting as Derek started to get off the bed, and he felt like this was a do-or-die situation. Fight or flight. All or nothing. Any second now, Stiles would rise to the occasion. He'd grab Derek by the groin and say 'take my virginity you crazy werewolf.' Well, maybe less forward, but he could feel it slowly, slowly creeping up inside him. He peeked out from under his arms only to see Derek standing beside the bed with his arms crossed.

"Oh, thank god you haven't given up on me," Stiles mumbled, thankful that this was turning out less like a dramatic break-up than he thought it would. He sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed, sitting in front of Derek. They were close enough to where Stiles' knees were touching Derek's shins, and Stiles felt like he was sitting in front of a tree instead of a human being; to be fair, Derek really wasn't a human being. "I-"

"Look, I'll say it one more time. I'm not going to force you to do anything. I just need an answer."

"I was about to give it to you, idiot. Just give me a second." Stiles took in a deep breath and held it for a long time before he let it out again. "I want to." He looked up at Derek with the most pathetic eyes, and Derek almost felt bad for listening to his heartbeat to make sure he wasn't lying. "Like, a lot. I'm just a little scared… Or a lot scared. So go slow, alright? I've never done anything like this before. The closest I've gotten to something like this, the other party ended up getting killed."

Lips crashed on his and he was pushed down onto the mattress, legs still dangling over the edge. He let out a soft 'mmph' and reached up to grab fistfuls of hair, kissing back with much more hard-earned skill than the first time they'd kissed.

"Here's a tip," Derek murmured, bringing his kisses down to Stiles' neck, "don't talk about dead people when you're trying to get laid."

"Good tip."

Stiles had to admit, Derek's hands were moving a bit fast. He felt like he blinked and his shirt was gone, his arms wrapping around himself like a blushing virgin. "Can't I just keep that on? Just that. Everything else can go, but let me just-"

"No, Stiles." He felt like a child being told he couldn't wear his Halloween costume to school. Derek grabbed his wrists gently and slowly started to pull on his arms, and Stiles tried not to fight it too much; not that Derek couldn't rip his arms off entirely if he wanted to, anyway. Once Derek got a full look he figured it would be a waste of time to try and cover up again, so he just let his arms lay at his sides awkwardly while Derek looked him like a piece of steak. "See, not so hard."

"Actually, very hard."

"Also true."

"Don't turn this around!"

"What, you mean to what's actually happening?"

Stiles scrunched his face up and punched Derek in the chest, who laughed it off like he was trying to tickle him, although Stiles wasn't exactly aiming to hurt him. It wasn't until Derek started kissing down his chest that he really felt a spark. Stiles jerked and closed his eyes, taking in the feeling of Derek kissing his body. He licked his lips and parted his legs a little, and if asked the action was completely subconscious. His hands found their way to Derek's shoulders, then his hair, and that was definitely a moan that came out of him when a wet tongue flicked over his nipple. And then Derek started sucking on one and Stiles thought he was going to cream in his pants.

Stiles arched like a bow and his mouth fell open, each suck sending pleasure straight to his already aching erection. He didn't realize he was grinding up into Derek's abdomen until he felt hands pinning his hips down and heard Derek chuckling mockingly. He felt like he was on fire, as if a thousand sparklers were lighting up inside of him. The sensation was gone as quickly as it had came, that wet tongue licking a line all the way down to the dark trail of hair that disappeared beneath his jeans and Stiles' head snapped up so fast he swore he gave himself whiplash.

"What are you doing?" Stiles was frantic, thighs trembling from what little pleasure he'd already received. Derek only looked up at him with a raised eyebrow before his hands were working like magic on his pants. Stiles was scrambling to sit up immediately only to be pushed down, and to see Derek kneeling between his legs made him want to come and faint at the same time. "Derek. Derek. Seriously. Really, you don't have to. Like, at –," his whole body seized when he felt a warm hand wrap around his cock and pull him from his jeans, and there it was, in all its glory, right in front of Derek's stupid face.

A long stroke upwards had Stiles whining, and had Derek's insides melting into lava. He'd never heard anything that erotic before. He did it again, and Stiles just let his head fall back onto the bed while his hips bucked up into the hand. That was more like it. He started up a rhythm and Stiles started fucking chanting like he was at a sermon. Derek kept it up just to hear him say his name like that over and over again, and Stiles' pale skin was starting to light up like a Christmas tree.

"Derek, please, oh fuck yeah that's nice. Why didn't you talk me into this sooner? Derek, Derek, Derek. That's… Mmh… That's so good." Stiles didn't even know what he was saying, not with a hand on his dick and a werewolf between his legs. Everything was hot and good and wet and perfect. So damn perfect. Wait, wet? His eyes snapped open and his jaw dropped almost comically, and he gripped Derek's hair so tight he swore he would have pulled it all out if he wasn't a werewolf.

"Oh, fuck." His words were high-pitched and came out as a whine, and he was trying his damned hardest to push Derek's head down farther, or even push his hips up higher. Unfortunately, Derek's impeccable strength kept him from doing both. His face was twisted in pleasure, that kind of look that was borderline pain but had that tint to it that made it obvious that he was in extreme bliss. Stiles trembled, oh he trembled like a leaf in the wind, and Derek gave one suck and it was over. He could hear the cry catch in Stiles' throat, and although it had felt like hours to Stiles he knew it was only seconds.

Derek was only slightly taken aback by the bitter taste on his tongue and out of generosity he let go of Stiles' hips, which nearly sling-shot upwards immediately. Derek took it in stride, swallowing everything up like it was a damn lollipop he was sucking on. Stiles didn't make a sound until the very end, letting out the breath he was no doubt holding with a keening sound. Stiles didn't even give himself a second to bask in the pleasure, immediately sitting up and pushing Derek away.

"O-Oh god, I'm so sorry. That's so embarrassing." Stiles covered his face in what appeared to be shame, hanging his head low. "I literally just… That's so fucking embarrassing." He could hear Derek trying not to laugh and he wanted to slap that perfect facial hair right off his damn face. "Don't laugh at me you jerk!" He shouted, shoving the other even though he knew he wouldn't budge.

"I'm not… I'm not laughing at that. Really."

"Oh, what? You're laughing at the upholstery, then? Perhaps a joke you so happened to remember?"

"I'm laughing at your reaction, actually. There's nothing to be embarrassed about. So you were a little excited. I expected as much."

Stiles huffed and kept his lips pursed when Derek kissed him the first time, loosened up the second, and kissed back the third. "Yeah, well, you suck at blowjobs."

"Whatever makes you sleep at night."

"Shut up." Stiles grabbed Derek by the shoulders and even though he knew Derek had to allow him to pull him down, it still made him feel powerful. He brought their lips together in a fierce kiss and let himself fall back onto the bed, pulling Derek down on top of him. He felt ready for this, for the real thing. For now, at least. He climbed up the bed backwards, letting Derek crawl after him like a hungry dog, and Stiles actually kind of felt… Sexy. Their lips never parted on the ascent, and Stiles didn't bang his head this time. Derek settled on top of him and this time when Stiles looked up at him it felt right instead of scary or intimidating. Derek seemed to be the one to hesitate this time.

"You're sure about this?"

Stiles glared.

"After all that bitching you're asking if I'm sure now? Seriously? Like the other fifteen times wasn't enough?"

"Don't you dare ruin this moment."

"Oh, like you have to worry about me ruining it."

Derek glared right back and smashed their lips together hard enough to make their teeth clank, and somewhere he heard Stiles start to complain but he just shoved his tongue in his mouth to shut him up. His hands were quick as lightning, pulling Stiles' pants off the rest of the way. The scent of arousal was heavy enough for Stiles to smell it, so it was practically assaulting Derek. Everything was starting to blur together for the werewolf, his super-human senses overwhelmed with sex and heat and Stiles.

Derek pulled back to look down at Stiles' naked body, and if his eyes flickered red he ignored it. It was the most he'd ever seen of Stiles' body, only having ever gotten him shirtless on two other occasions; once during a marathon of Star Wars that went from Revenge of the Sith to Revenge of the Lips, and that one time they went to the drive-in and Stiles ended up on his lap and coming in his pants.

Derek's lips spread over Stiles' body like wildfire, tasting and biting every inch he could get to. The fingers that laced into his hair were, thankfully, just anchoring themselves, rather than the usual push and pull of Stiles trying to pry Derek off like he was some kind of parasite. Stiles could only moan and shudder beneath him, and when Derek looked up he actually whined at what he saw.

Stiles' head was pushed back into the pillow, lips parted and glistening from where he'd licked them several times over. His cheeks were flushed a bright pink, hair mussed in all directions, his throat tight where he was on the verge of a blissful sound. His pale skin looked absolutely stunning in contrast to the black silk of Derek's sheets, and fuck Derek swore he was looking down at some beautiful forest nymph or a God of purity. He'd never seen somebody so goddamn beautiful in his entire life, and it was his turn to flush when Stiles' head whipped up with wide eyes because oops he was definitely saying all of that out loud.

"You suck," Stiles whispered, tugging at Derek's hair so he could pull him up into another one of those mind-blowing kisses, all lips and tongue and lewd sounds that made Derek's wolf howl. His hips came down to roll against Stiles', only to earn blunt teeth clamping down on his bottom lip with a hiss. He opened his eyes, and while he felt Stiles was hard again (thank god he had those teenage hormones rushing through him), he didn't look all too pleased.

"Pants. Your pants, get them off," Stiles grunted, although his hands stayed firmly tangled in his hair, obviously not quite ready to actively remove another human being's pants.

Derek could only nod like he was scared Stiles was going to change his mind, and he couldn't imagine the scratch of denim on bare skin must have been nice. He gave Stiles a fleeting kiss and slipped off the bed, his hands fumbling as he tried to pry the tight material off. There was a soft 'pop' and the sound of metal bouncing around on the floor, the button of his jeans flying clear off and rolling under his bed somewhere. Between the blood and claw marks and (hopefully) successful sex life, he was afraid he might run out of pants. Well, he figured since they were already ruined why try to preserve them? Somewhere between Stiles telling him he knew how to sew and his own aggression he just ripped the zipper in half, because why wait when you had werewolf strength?

"Okay, I definitely can't fix that," Stiles muttered, finally bringing Derek back to himself – at least a little. But that notion was destroyed completely when he looked up, halfway finished with pulling his pants off when he saw Stiles lazily stroking himself, skinny fingers working at himself while the other hand stroked up his chest and ghosted over a nipple.

Derek fell forwards, tripping over his pants and slamming his face onto the edge of the bed before he connected with the floor because Jesus Christ. Stiles sat up in concern, looking down at the fumbling wolf on the ground, and Derek only flinched a little when that loud, obnoxious laughter echoed through the loft. He could tell it was that whole-belly, open-mouthed laughter that was way too fucking cute and made Derek feel like he was flying – at least, when Stiles wasn't laughing at him for falling face-first into the mattress. He collected himself and got off the floor, getting rid of his pants and underwear in one swift movement. This shit was not going to fly.

"Man, you sure know how to woo a guy- oh my god stop looking at me like that! You look like you're going to eat me. Cut it out, sourwolf!" Stiles said, watching as Derek crawled on top of him like the hungry wolf that he was. He swallowed nervously and spread his legs, making room for the alpha above him, his cock giving an excited twitch. Whoa, since when was 'hungry animal' a turn on?

Derek's hips came down a second time, trying again with the horny humping, this time gaining a much more successful reaction. Stiles moaned and arched up against him, his hips snapping up as their cocks slid together. Oh, that was perfect. He did it again, this time less to shut Stiles up and more to just feel. He moaned softly, the salty, thick smell of Stiles' precum making his hips stutter and a wave of heat smack into him like a brick wall.

"Please tell me that's not all you're going to do," Stiles whispered, his hands coming up to grip at Derek's shoulders in an iron grip. It knocks the wind out of Derek, because there it is. Stiles is finally asking for more, finally caught in the wave of desire that Derek's been wrapped up in for months now. He can only shake his head because, no, god no that's not all he's going to do. He hides his face in the crook of Stiles' neck, licks and nips at the skin like it's some kind of treat. Before he knows it he's sucking, his lips wrapped firmly around a smooth patch of skin, his teeth just barely pressing into the skin.

"No, no Derek. My dad- oh, don't stop," Stiles went from pushing at his chest to pulling him down closer, losing that battle rather quickly. He had a feeling he was trying to validate why the hickey on his neck was a horrible idea, which, it was, but the heat of it all swallowed him up and Derek could only moan against the mark when Stiles pushed down on his head for more.

In retrospect, that hickey was an awful, awful idea. Derek could probably assume the ending to that statement, like 'my dad will see,' and that would literally be awful. But Derek couldn't seem to care, because when he pulled back the mark was dark purple and practically glowing against the pale skin, and he couldn't stop the feral growl that escaped his lips at seeing Stiles marked.

Derek nuzzled against the bruise, pleased with himself – well, more like the wolf was pleased with him. His lips came up to kiss Stiles again, his hips starting to work up a rocking rhythm against his, the friction between their bodies so fucking good. Stiles was whimpering beneath him, his hips arching up to meet the alpha's, mind hazy and lost in the sensations. Derek's hips didn't stop for a second as he reached into the nightstand, yanking just a little too hard in his haste. He pulled the drawer out completely, cursing under his breath. He got out what he was looking for before he let the hunk of wood crash to the ground with loud thumps.

The popping sound of the cap was like a gunshot, Stiles' eyes snapping open wide. His heart was hammering away again, and he knew Derek could hear it, that nervousness coming back. He didn't want to back out, not now – they were so damn close. But it was scary and Derek was like a wild animal. Still, it reassured him to see Derek slow down and come to a halting stop when the wolf heard his erratic heartbeat, their eyes meeting for a moment. Stiles only nodded, cheeks flushed in embarrassment. Derek waited those few extra seconds that Stiles needed, brushing their noses together, kissing his lips, easing Stiles' heart back to 'human' instead of 'rabbit'.

The next couple of minutes were a blur. Derek had applied the lubricant liberally to three of his fingers, making sure they were slick enough, adding more when Stiles insisted that it wasn't enough. And then his hand was moving south, fast, Stiles was nervous again. He felt the press of the first one, circling the warmth, and it wasn't like that place was exactly untouched. Stiles had experimented down there before a few times in the shower, and once while he was watching porn. It never really felt… Good when he did it, just kind of weird, but the added sensation always seemed to make his orgasms a little better. But now it was Derek's fingers down there, thicker, longer. He felt Derek shift his arm and bend his wrist so the heel of his palm was resting just below Stiles' balls, and then the first one was pushing in.

It didn't hurt, didn't expect it to, but it was uncomfortable like his own had been and man that was disappointing. Wasn't this supposed to feel better when someone else was doing it? Stiles' hands came up to his shoulders again, gripping, and he knew he definitely wasn't doing well on the relaxing part. Derek's middle finger was pushed in to the third knuckle, and looking down he had a feeling three fingers wouldn't compare to that massive monster between Derek's legs. He knew it wasn't going to be easy, though, and he knew asking to stop now would literally be evil – and he really didn't want to, anyway.

Derek's finger moved slowly while he whispered for Stiles' to relax, his forehead pressed against Stiles' temple while he whispered in his ear. Stiles kept saying he was trying, but it was weird and wet at first. But eventually the feeling went away, his tense muscles relaxing as the press started to feel welcomed, and his hips even started to curl down against his hand because it was starting to feel like it wasn't enough.

"Another," Stiles whispered, hips sliding against the silk as he tried to urge Derek, and the second was definitely much different. He tensed up all over again but Derek didn't stop, knew that wasn't what Stiles wanted, even if there was just a hint of pain that came along with two. And then he was scissoring them and wow, that was weird, but he went along with it, albeit with a few gasps of discomfort. But then Derek curled his fingers just fucking right and Stiles screamed, head thrown back in the pillows because what was that?

"Holy shit, Derek. Holy shit, do that a- mother fucking fuck," Stiles had never been so happy his boyfriend was so receptive and thoughtful and perfect, because he hit it again and it was like a goddamn miracle. His back arched and his hips curled, the pain and discomfort of the third finger completely obliterated as Derek curved his body over Stiles' and started to abuse the ever loving fuck out of his prostate. His body was jostling with the force behind Derek's hand, his hands coming down to grip at the sheets and pull at them, bringing the handfuls of silk up to his mouth, biting at the fabric.

Stiles was letting out these sounds, somewhere between moans and screams, high-pitched and desperate. This was the definition of finger-fucking, and he felt like one of those guys he watched in porn. Derek was grumbling something in his ear, he couldn't tell what, but it was something about loving something – he literally had no idea. All he could do was moan and arch and try not to come. His heels dug into the bed, toes curled tight as he thrashed around, glad Derek was strong enough to hold him in place because this felt too damn good for him to wiggle his way out of. But he could feel his orgasm coming on, strong, and he tore one hand away from the sheets to grip Derek's thick wrist.

"D-Derek… Oh fucking hell, Derek, stop. Stop, stop, stop- Stop, I'm go-nna come." Stiles' words spit out like rapid fire, and he really felt like if Derek didn't stop within the next few seconds it would be over. As much as he loved the idea of orgasming his night away, he wasn't sure he'd be able to get it up after the second time. His pushed at Derek's arm with those high-pitched moans that meant his orgasm was right there, and Derek retreated just in time. He let out a loud whine, his cock an angry red, twitching and oozing precum. His legs were trembling, thighs clamped down around where his hand was still holding onto Derek's wrist. He gazed up at the alpha, eyes glassy and totally gone, and he would have made a disgusted noise when Derek licked up the drool at the corner of his lips if he could even function right now.

Stiles slowly pulled his hand away and let it flop down onto the bed, because why the hell did he keep Derek at bay for this long again? He knew it was going to hurt when they got to the real thing, but he was right on the cusp of his orgasm and maybe the pain could pull that away just long enough for the sex to actually last. He let his legs fall apart again, shuddering as Derek stroked his fingers over the abused hole, feeling it twitch with want. Damn, that felt so slutty and he loved it.

And then Derek kissed him and he could hardly move. Stiles felt like he'd been turned to putty, and he'd definitely have to get Derek to give him lessons on how to do that. He kissed back lazily while Derek's hands scrabbled for the lube and little packet of foil, and maybe it was the near-orgasm feeling or the sudden realization that hell yeah, Stiles Stilinski was sexy, but a confidence rushed over him. He reached a hand up and pulled the condom out of Derek's hand and shoved it under the pillow, licking his lips that way he knew made Derek dizzy.

"I was-," he paused to clear his throat, because he sounded just a little too sexed up, "I was thinking… We could skip that. I mean, I'm a- I'm a virgin, so, yeah. And werewolves don't get like, syphilis or anything, right? Not that you'd have syphilis, I'm just saying. Unless there's some weird disease werewolves can get, like-" Derek's lips silenced him, and he was thankful for that because all that sexiness was going right out the window.

"Yeah, yeah that sounds good, babe." Derek whispered, always keeping it so short and simple, but Stiles could only focus on the fact that he was his babe. Derek was hovering over him like this big, giant, warm bear and Stiles just wanted to curl up under him and soak up his warmth, even though he was pretty sure he was currently a thousand degrees. He heard the cap of the lube again, this time a little less scary, and he opened his eyes to watch Derek run that big, warm hand up and down that equally big, warm cock. Fuck, that was going to fit inside him? His hand reached down to wrap around Derek's, and he definitely took some pride in the sputtering moan that came out of his mouth. Stiles swiped his thumb over the slit and watched how those strong hips jerked, heard the way Derek's breath hitched above him. Stiles pulled his hand away and Derek's hand slid to wrap around the shaft, his thumb pressing just beneath the head as he guided himself forward. He let the tip prod at the tight heat, and Stiles sucked in an audible breath.

"It's…?"

"Yeah…"

Derek's free hand slid to grasp at Stiles' thigh gently, hoisting his hips up a little farther as he started to press forward. Derek's head fell forward onto his shoulder with a wrecked moan, the hand on Stiles' thigh tightening as he felt the other tense up and hiss in pain. The head popped in, the tight heat fastening snug around it. He pushed in a little farther before pulling out the bit of progress, then sinking a little deeper again. He kept repeating that motion until his hips were flush against Stiles', keeping himself still as he felt Stiles' arms wrap around his neck.

"Oh man, that hurts," Stiles whispered, body stiff as a board, "fuck your werewolf dick."

Derek smiled and kissed his temple affectionately, and he could practically feel the moment when Stiles realized he was no longer a virgin. He relaxed just a little and he let out this dreamy noise, and he almost felt his confidence go through the roof. Deep down in the pit of his stomach Derek's wolf was chasing its tail, proud of himself for being the one to take his virginity. It was actually hard to believe this was really happening, even when he was balls-deep in the kid. He was mostly just relieved that it felt so damn natural and right.

The pain was subsiding and Stiles felt like he could breathe again, and the realization that he was probably only seconds away from getting pounded by Derek Hale was almost too much. Almost. He looked down between their bodies and rolled his hips just a little, and the most pathetic whine came from his mouth. He looked up at Derek with these hopeless eyes because Derek not moving was definitely not okay right now. He practically clawed at his chest, scraping his nails along the tanned werewolf skin, trying to encourage Derek to move, but he was still and calm and just not moving and damn it. Stiles rolled his hips again, his eyes fluttering dreamily as a gasp passed over his lips, his toes curling just slightly. It felt good – really good, so why the hell was Derek just sitting there?

"Derek, come on, please," Stiles whispered, hushed and frantic and begging, "I just- you just took my virginity, now come on. Please, you big asshole." He punched at his chest weakly, whining when Derek grabbed his hips to keep him from grinding down on him again. Derek didn't say anything, just kissed at his neck, bit at his earlobe. Stiles felt like he was going to lose his mind, his neck craning back to arch into the hand that threaded through his overgrown hair. He turned his head to the side, kissed the inside of Derek's wrist, panting against the skin. Okay, he just had to trust Derek – had to trust he knew what he was doing because Stiles may not have been a virgin anymore but he didn't know much about any of this. All of his knowledge came from porn and curious Google searches, alright? He took deep, steadying breaths, and Derek seemed to like that, obviously seeming to know what was best for the beauty-marked boy. But right now, Stiles felt like this wasn't what was best for him.

It was probably only a few minutes but it felt like hours of Derek just sitting there, occasionally giving a soft little grind that made Stiles whimper and push his heels into the mattress. He could feel how red his face was, flushed with heat and arousal and just pure fucking need. And then Derek's little presses of his hips started to turn into a curling motion, curling in before arching out only to repeat the process. Stiles' eyes shut and his mouth fell open just slightly, his lips desperately kissing at the soft skin of Derek's shoulder, all sweaty and hot. The hand in his hair added a bit more pressure on his head when the curling turned into thrusting, keeping his body in place as Derek's bigger form started to physically move Stiles up and down against his sheets.

"Oh… Oh Derek, yeah," Stiles whispered, his legs hooking around the back of Derek's thighs, locking tight into position. His arms reached up over his shoulders to latch his fingers against his back, blunt nails gripping tightly at the slick skin. "Don't stop, Derek, don't fucking stop."

For once, Stiles was actually rendered speechless, the driving force of Derek's superhuman dick hardly leaving him room to breathe. His hands dropped down onto the bed when Derek pushed up onto his hands, putting more distance between them but also giving himself more leverage – and more room to fuck Stiles down into his mattress. The thrusts had turned into rough snaps of his hips, the werewolf grunting and moaning softly above him. Stiles' fingers were curled into the sheets, tugging at them desperately as he arched off the bed. He felt lightheaded from the pleasure, and if he had half a brain right now he'd be wondering why the hell he'd waited so long to let Derek do this. He literally felt like he was melting, the heat pooling in the pit of his stomach and spreading outwards with each thrust. He brown eyes cracked open to look up at Derek and he moaned like a fucking porn star when he saw Derek's face – all flushed with arousal, eyes fixated down on Stiles, his lips parted just enough to let out pleasured sounds. It was the single most erotic thing Stiles had ever seen, and he'd nearly come then and there when he saw it.

Derek seemed to be enjoying his view just as much, with the way those green eyes studied Stiles' face like it was a work of art. Flushed all the way down to his chest, chocolate brown hair all mussed and sticking to Stiles' forehead in places, so damn blissed out and just flat out beautiful. His beauty marks seemed accented by the bright red on his cheeks, standing out like constellations. The bed was starting to rock, squeaking underneath their passion, the sheets starting to come up at the corners from Stiles pulling at them so viciously. And then Stiles was suddenly seizing up and fucking screaming at the top of his lungs, tossing his head back into the blue pillowcase.

"Oh my god, oh my g-od. Derek, Derek, right there, holy shit. Right there," Stiles murmured frantically, his mouth falling into a perfect 'O' with a silent scream as Derek slammed into the spot again. This, this was definitely way better than Derek's fingers. It was thick and hot and pulsing and Stiles couldn't take it. Derek was growling above him, pure, animalistic growling and God was why that so hot? Stiles' hips were curling down against Derek's, meeting each of his thrusts, the sound of their skin slapping together echoing through the loft, filling up the silence – if it could even be called that through all of the moaning and gasping and squeaking of Derek's bed. The headboard was smacking against the wall, and Stiles was fucking praising all of that werewolf strength – possibly out loud, even if just too much could end up in a smashed pelvis.

Derek was whispering something above him, something about how beautiful and sexy and perfect Stiles was but Stiles was half deaf from all of the sensations around him, but Derek just kept talking and he loved it. Loved the gruff sound of his voice, wrecked and hot and thick with pleasure, and Stiles knew every word he spoke was an honest to god truth, even without that super-hearing that could zero in on Derek's heartbeat. Stiles tuned in just enough to pick up some actual words and not just sound, his eyes meeting Derek's as he listened. "You're so perfect… Everything about you is perfect… You were so worth the wait, baby, so worth the wait." It came out in a hushed whisper and if Stiles wasn't getting his brains fucked out he might have cried, because not only was that the sweetest thing anyone had ever said to him, he was pretty sure it was the sweetest thing Derek had ever said in general. Unfortunately, Stiles could only whimper and jerk in response, his head pressing back into the pillows with a sobbing moan, but Derek seemed to get the point because he ducked down and kissed at Stiles' exposed throat, raking his teeth along the bobbing Adam's apple with a pleased sound.

The frictionless feeling of silk sheets was always nice, especially sliding against your naked body, but it was hard to keep grounded when you had a six foot tall werewolf putting all of his strength into his hips. Stiles was slipping and sliding all over the sheets, and even though Derek was holding onto his hips like a vice, it wasn't long before they were both scooting up towards the headboard. So Stiles wrenched a hand from the sheets and reached up above his head, planting his palm firmly against the headboard to keep himself from sliding up too far. It was pretty effective, actually, even if his palms were a little sweaty. But it made Derek's thrusts just that much more gratifying, each one slamming into Stiles abruptly. The strikes to his prostate were becoming more and more frequent, Stiles' moans escalating in volume, getting closer to screams more than anything.

The next time Stiles opened his eyes he was met with red ones, Derek baring his fangs down at Stiles with a deep growl, but Stiles was just thankful there weren't claws digging into his hips. He whined and lifted his head, the last hand in the sheets reaching up to grab the back of Derek's head, pulling him down for a kiss. It was sloppy and messy and kind of hard to keep your lips together when his body was constantly being jarred by Derek's thrusts, but it was perfect and everything he needed. The slide of Derek's fangs made Stiles shiver, the danger of biting right there on the cusp and Stiles loved it. It didn't last very long, however, Stiles swallowed up in another strike to his prostate, his head tossing back with a shout of Derek's name.

Derek was suddenly pushing even further away, bringing Stiles' legs up so he could hold onto the back of each knee, holding them at either side of him. He was on his knees, elevating Stiles' hips so he could pound into them freely. The angle completely shifted, the curve of Derek's cock aiming right for that spot, and Stiles saw fucking stars. His whole body arched, his mouth permanently fixated in a wide 'O'. He couldn't do much more than curl his toes and writhe, each thrust coming in more powerful, more precise.

"Derek… Derek, I don't think I can-," Stiles whispered, only to be cut off by a string of strangled moans. He was close, so incredibly close and Derek knew it, the bastard. "Harder, baby—please," was all Stiles could manage, and Derek complied, losing that precision just as quickly as he'd gained it. Derek's teeth were gritted, harsh grunts and growls escaping with each thrust inward, his eyes focused on the beautiful boy beneath him. They were both close, the end of a beautiful beginning finally coming – no pun intended.

Stiles started to reach for his cock only for Derek to drop one of his knees and beat him to the punch, that warm, slick hand starting up a fierce rhythm that matched the beating of his hips. Stiles cried out and tried moving his hips frantically, trying to find a happy medium between shoving himself down onto Derek's cock and fucking up into his hand, but it was much harder to move when he was half-suspended by Derek's hand. Stiles was far beyond moans, screaming and crying out like he was dying.

"I'm gonna—Derek, Derek, I'm gonna—."

"Me too, babe, fuck, me too."

And then Stiles' body was seizing up, legs locking up and flexing, pushing himself up off of Derek, but he just took it in stride and chased after him, keeping himself buried in that heat. Stiles screamed, and he could feel his throat going hoarse, the constant chant of "Derek, fuck, Derek," passing over his lips as he made a mess of himself, the first few shots flying like a rocket. He felt a bit of the warmth hit his chin, splash his chest, dribble over Derek's fingers only too pool just below his belly button. His body moved like a wave, rolling and curling to try and milk himself of every last drop, riding Derek's cock like his life depended on it.

Derek was pounding again, and Stiles' mouth hung open with the over-sensitive pleasure, and then Derek was coming in about half a dozen more thrusts, his hips stilling as he pumped Stiles full – so fucking full. Derek buried his face into the crook of Stiles' neck, grumbling a similar chant of Stiles' name as his hips gyrated and worked out the last bursts of his cum. Their bodies slowly slumped down onto the bed, sliding against the damp silk until they were pressed flush together, Derek atop of Stiles. There were a few long moments of panting, of trying to find themselves through the after-glow, and of course, it was Stiles who spoke first.

"Get off me, you big werewolf," he grumbled, pushing at Derek's shoulder, the room to breathe slowly diminishing. Derek only let out a breathless chuckle and rolled them onto their sides, slipping out of Stiles in the process. He let out a groan at the suddenly loss, feeling empty and sticky and yeah, that was something he'd have to get used to. He cuddled up to Derek's big, dumb chest, his body starting to ache in ways it never had before.

Derek kissed the top of Stiles' head with a content smile, cradling the smaller body against his own. Stiles was warm and soft and perfect against him, and Derek's chest felt tight in the best way. Stiles was that spark – his spark, the one that kept his flame going, lit him up like the fourth of July. It was a satisfying feeling, to know the person you were holding was everything and anything you needed.

"You know, I kind of, like… Love you, or something." It was Stiles who spoke, and the words were jarring to say the least. Derek pulled back enough to look down at him – although it was more like gawking, because that was a first for that word. "That sounded stupid, didn't it?"

Derek grinned down at him and placed a soft kiss on his lips, nodding his head affirmatively. "It did."

Stiles crinkled his nose and punched at Derek's chest weakly, his muscles still soft as warm butter.

"But I love you, too… Or something." His grin only widened, and even though Stiles looked mildly peeved, he kissed him, all open-hearted and bright just like Stiles always was.

"You better."