"So this is good?"
"This is very good..."
"Are you going to take my advice more often?"
A stubborn pause, "Maybe..."
Another pause. And then,
"Are you scratching my ear?"
Stiles blushed slightly as he looked down from where he was straddling his lover's back on the bed. He glanced down to the delicate curves of the triskelion tattoo where his hands had previously been soothingly rubbing, up to where one was somehow now gently scratching behind the larger man's ear, occasionally slipping to stroke at the short, dark hair.
He coughed slightly at the brow arched high in disbelief Derek gave him as he craned his head back, but Stiles found that his hand refused to cease the movement and settled for staring back unblinking, "I don't know what you mean..."
Derek glowered at him slightly, face sinking into an exasperated frown, "I'm a werewolf, Stiles- not a labrador."
"Well yeah- but...I just...I don't know!" Stiles protested, frustration clawing at him as embarrassment flooded his system, his fingers unconsciously scratching a little harder at the other man's flesh, "I don't know werewolf anatomy! Heck I don't even know wolf anatomy, or human-"
A soft moan stopped him in his tracks as Derek froze beneath him, his piercing gaze flickering to an electric ice-blue before his eyelids fluttered closed, face relaxing.
"Urm...Der? Are you good?"
"Mmm."
Blinking in confusion, Stiles took away his hand; fearing that he'd somehow paralysed the werewolf or something. He managed to break everything else in Derek's place, it only figured that his boyfriend himself fell victim to his clumsy ways.
He almost jumped when Derek whined pitifully at the loss of contact, fidgeting slightly. A small grin spread across Stiles's features, "I fucking knew it!"
Derek's eyes flashed open again, "Shit! No! No way-"
Stiles threw his head back in laughter, "This is too perfect!"
The other squirmed and thrashed, his face brightening to a slight pinkish tone before he stilled and stared at the wall with wide puppy-eyes, looking utterly mortified, "This has never happened before."
"Who's a good boy?"
"Stiles!"
Rolling his eyes at the flash of pointed teeth emerging and the creases in that frown getting a little too deep as his boyfriend whipped his head around to snap at him (he would later decide he was grateful that Derek had been trapped under his weight), Stiles replaced his hand back to that one spot behind the other's ear, and again started scratching at it-hard.
It was as if a switch was flipped. Immediately, Derek went limp again, head dropping onto the pillow and eyes closing in pleasure.
Chuckling fondly, Stiles started firmly, slowly, rubbing at the loosening muscles in his boyfriend's back with his free hand, enjoying how Derek melted further under the touch with a long sigh.
It was several minutes before the wolf spoke, voice muffled by the pillow,
"If you tell anybody about this..."
"I won't." Stiles vowed, then smirked, "If you're a good dog."