PWP

When Lydia Martin,the most popular girl from the senior class, invited you to her birthday party, you said yes. Even if she was just inviting you to get at one of your hot friends, who had gone to college and was in fact two years older than you and a year older than Lydia Martin. In this case, said hot friend – not in Stiles' opnion obviously, he would never find another man hot, I mean sure, he could tell Derek was attractive, but, getting off topic – Derek Hale.

The man was almost 6'2 tall and stuck out like a supermodel at a chess convention, with his short, coal-black hair and dark, intense green eyes, also, he was build like a freaking brick wall. Lydia Martin had been all over him all night, from the moment he'd stepped foot on her property she had attached herself to him as if she'd been superglued there. Not that Stiles was jealous. The sour taste in his mouth was from all the beer he had chugged over the last two hours and he only got up from his seat and went outside, to get some fresh air, not to get away from the image of Lydia practically wetting herself with excitement when Derek smiled at her. Dumb bitch anyway.

"Oooi! Stilenskiii!" Stiles turned around at a familiar shout, only to find Danny Mahealani standing in the door to Lydia-dumb-bitch-Martin's pool house, waving at him in a come-here way, looking extremely goofy and slightly paranoid at the same time. Closing in Stiles could scent the sweet-spicy, slightly pine-tree-like smell of weed and to really establish that yes, Danny was in fact higher than an airplane, he says; "Stiles, I'm higher than an airplane!" while giggling like a madman.

"Lemme have some," Stiles demanded, leaning in on Danny, who handed over a freshly lit bud as he moved around him to get out of the pool house.

"Stay in here while you smoke, man, or the goblins will find you." He shouts as he wanders back to the party, probably to find someone to fuck. Or possibly to hide in the bathroom. One of those two, weed made Danny either horny or paranoid. Sometimes both.

The weed was really good, and mixing fast with his beer buzz, and man, this shirt was uncomfortable! It kept scratching at his skin, itching everywhere, pulling over his nipples, so he took it off and threw it on the ground. Ah, much better. The slightly chilly spring air felt awesome against his naked torso and he wondered how it'd feel against his legs, it'd probably feel just as good, and these pants where starting to feel kind of tight. Suddenly he couldn't get out of them fast enough and threw his boxers and socks after the offending pants.

The bud was almost done when there was a knock on the door. "If you're a goblin then go away!" Stiles shouts, letting a thick, white curl of smoke leave his lips as the door opened and Derek stepped in, coughing slightly in the smoke thick room, waving his hand around, as if he was trying to clear the fog. "You're not a goblin," He states.

"And you're naked." Derek smiles, and that really isn't that funny, his clothes had been itching! And now Derek was closing in on him, all tall and bulky, and huge and smirking. Stiles took the last drag off the bud and Derek took it out of his hand, tossing it on the floor and stomping it out with his foot. It felt weird, standing in front of Derek totally naked, while the other man was fully dressed. "You know Stiles," he starts, leaning in as the smaller man tries to take a step back only to realize he can't. "There's somethin' I've wanted to do ever since you hit puberty,"

Stiles could feel the heat coming off the older mans body, could almost feel him breathing, Derek held himself a hairsbreadth away, holding off to see if the teen was going to struggle but the alcohol had made him horny and the pot had made him pliant, so even if under normal circumstances Stiles would've made some sort of funny quip or semi-sarcastic comment, right now it just made him think about sex and subsequently, sex with Derek. His dick was slowly filling and going hard, until it aligned with his stomach.

"God, you want it, don't you?" Derek hissed, "Want me to fuck your ass?"

Stiles whimpered and Derek surged, crashing his still dressed body into his friends as Stiles' hands went for Derek's pants, making quick work of his button-fly, covering his swollen dick. God, he was huge!

Stiles got his hand on Derek's cock and pulled it out, fingers running along his hot, hard flesh. He smelled like sweat and beer and a bit like Lydia Martins' perfume, he closed his fist around his throbbing length and slowly squeezed, testing the waters – the angle was a bit off, but otherwise it was like jacking yourself – the head was wet and slippery when Stiles rubbed his thumb over it, making Derek groan into his ear as his teeth found his earlobe and his hands found dusky, already pimpled nipples to play with, making Stiles loose his focus for a second.

The taller man slowly danced Stiles out from the wall, until he could push him down properly on the ground, once he had him there, pliant, hard and red faced, he loomed over him for a second, just smirking. For all Stiles' protesting, fighting and struggling, he sure looked desperate for it now. "So gorgeous like this, Stiles," he pulled out a condom from his back pocket along with a little plastic pack of lube, he tore both open with his teeth and rolled on the condom, giving his cock a long stroke, moaning before he poured lube over his fingers and pushed Stiles' thighs apart with his hips. "This will hurt at first, but it gets better," he promised, positioning his fingers at Stiles' tiny, pink hole.

It took a bit of coaxing, rubbing and pushing for the first digit to go in and Stiles groaned in discomfort when it breached him, wiggling his hips to get away from the intrusion. "Ssssh," Derek hushed, closing his other hand around Stiles' slightly deflated dick, stocking him back to full hardness as he started probing his finger in and out. Stiles started breathing harsher and his hips started pushing into Derek's fist instead of trying to wiggle away.

Finally he seemed to loosen up enough for Derek to push in another finger, making Stiles whimper and grimace, but stroking his dick kept him hard and panting until Derek discovered the little nub inside Derek and made him shout out in chock and twitch back towards his fingers. "Fuck – do it," he curses, knocking his head back against the floor. "Oh god,"

"You're not ready," Derek shoots back, scissoring his fingers.

"Not a fucking girl, do it!" He hisses, Derek was too much on the edge to be able to argue with the chopped-short haired man underneath him, his cock was throbbing and watching his friend's hole open around his fingers, listening to the sounds he made; like he wanted it, really wanted it. Not just I'm-drunk-and-high-wanted it, his fingers slipped out and Stiles whimpered at the loss.

"Ready?" Stiles glared at him, until he felt the press of the wide head of Derek's cock, pushing him open, he drew his lip between his teeth and held on for dear life as pain pierced through the veil of weed. "Told you, you needed more prep" Derek pants. "Fuck, you're so fucking tight" He sank into him, inch by inch, torturously slow, until finally Derek's hips rested against Stiles' ass.

"Hurts," He bites out, wondering if hitting Derek was an option when the man was currently spearing him with his dick. He settled for squeezing tight around the cock he swore he could almost feel in his throat, he knew Derek was big, but goddamn fuck, that thing had to be illegal.

"If you'd let me prep – aaahhh," He groanes out loud as Stiles squeezed tight around him. "It'd hurt a lot less, though guy." He had to move soon or this'd end before it'd really begun, dark eyed man underneath him was squeezing so perfectly around him, he was sure he could get off like this, would get off like this if he didn't move. He grabbed both hands around Stiles's narrow hips and started pulling back and then pushed back in slowly. Out fast, in slow, until he'd build up a rhythm and could start aiming for the tiny nub.

"Ah!" Found it, Derek smirked, as he surged up, muscles playing under the fabric of his shirt that definitely no longer smelled like Lydia Martins' perfume.

Stiles' sounds started getting louder as Derek started hitting his sweet spot on every fucking thrust, nailing it like a hammer, rocking them backwards with his thrusts, damn he was gonna have floor burns on his back tomorrow. His cock was beginning to become very interested in the pleasure-pain cursing through his body, lifting to stand proud and leaky again. "Holy motherfucking Jesus!"

Which definitely conveyed to Derek that Stiles was having a good time now, so he let go of the boy's hip with one hand and wrapped it around his cock tightly, not moving, just squeezing with every thrust, driving Stiles into a chorus of "ah ah ah" sounds, chest flushing red as his climax drew closer and closer. "I'm 'onna – Ad, I'm 'onna" He rasped, and that was all the warning Derek got, before Stiles' orgasm slammed into him like a train and his insides closed down on him like a vice and started squeezing and releasing around with his spasms, pulling Derek along with him, spilling into the condom as Stiles' insides milked him dry.

He barely managed not to collapse on top of him and thereby crush him, or get come on his shirt. Both boys panted heavily for a moment, trying to recover. As soon as he'd caught his breath, Derek started chuckling. "I totally just popped our ass cherry!" He grins.

"And if you tell anyone, I will cut you open and claim temporary insanity at the trial." He threatens, although he knows Derek will never let this go.

"Aw man, but Danny totally owes me twenty bucks!" He pouts as he pulls out, slowly, but Stiles winces anyway, he's going to have a limp for the next week.

"You owe me dinner and a fucking movie!" he grumbles as he pushes to sit, wincing, and picks up his clothes. "I hate you."

"You love me!"

And yeah, he kinda does. In a friendly way. "Ass."