These dirty oneshots are for a clear mind/break from multi-chapters, and development in my sexual writing. It is completely academical, I swear... I took way too long to post this even after it was written, sorry for that... but I just found out that someone I know in RL reads my stuff... it was a moment of excitement and then worry and then dread. I'm a pervert, and once this is posted it will be known. XD

I require a lot of fangirl support bros. I shall write on!

Stiles was going to get killed.

He wasn't facing a werewolf, witch, hunter, or some other supernatural beast. He was lying in bed next to his disheartening one-sided crush, Derek.

Why he was lying on the same mattress as the alpha male was a long story. Thanks to an electrical mishap on his dad's side, there was no power in the house. No power meant no way to heat the water supply. No power meant limited means of cooking. No power meant that Stiles was forced to turn to the home of a friend for a place to stay until his dad hired a professional to fix the fuses.

Scott was out of town, Jackson kicked him out, Allyson's father had refused him, and the complicated stuff with Lydia and her family was another story in itself.

So there he was, fresh out of a shower and sharing the only mattress in Derek's house that didn't have springs stabbing through the material or the smell of (possibly deadly) mold. It might have been bearable-not that bunking with the aim of your heart was anything to dismiss-if it wasn't for the fact that his sleeping bed-mate was having a wet dream.

That, or his nightmares made him huff like a bull and his dick had some sort of strange infatuation with scary dreams.

Now, Derek was a power man. He played to win and cut down the losers that got in his way. Stiles had run into some bruise-worthy times with the man before and shuddered when he realized how big of a multiplier this would be. Those times were over little things. This would be enough to get him murdered.

The thin sheet that hardly covered him didn't do much in the way of hiding Derek's boner. It stood proudly in front of Stiles, almost like a tease, daring him to try something. His fingers were shaking with petty attempt to keep some sort of composure with what little self-control he had left. His own appendage had given a few twitches of interest when he'd finally turned in bed to see the man looking disheveled and horny. The shock took his breath away for a bit.

Derek was shifting in his sleep, his muscles contracting in enticing ways and his chest heaving with fast breaths. He was flushed and messy, with a jumping cock and his hands looking like they wanted to reach for it just as much as Stiles did. The boy shook with anticipation as Derek let out a breathy, primal growl. Stiles was half hard himself, his own oxygen coming to him in choppy breaths despite trying to calm himself down. He was aching to touch himself, but no matter how you looked at the situation, it was messed up. Fantasizing about your friend while he slept beside you and trying to jerk off had to cross some sort of line.

He clenched his fists at his sides in vain as he pulled his legs tighter together. Stiles was sitting upright beside Derek, staring down at the man with an intense gaze, and not letting one little movement go unnoticed. Derek's head was tossing, but Stiles had started paying a little less attention to his upper half, and was mesmerized by the sheer size of Derek's dick.

His curiosity getting the better of him, Stiles' fingers started to reach out. It was like his hand had a mind of its own, at first, ghosting over Derek's groin with hesitance, settling into feathery light swipes along its base. Stiles heard a moan slip into the room, and caught himself when he realized it was his own. He was hard as a rock now, finally giving into temptation as his fingers curled around it and outlined the shape of the expansive cock beneath Derek's boxers.

They weren't even boxers really. Stiles thought the image would be permanently engraved in his brain when Derek walked out of the bathroom with skin-tight, dark grey underwear. It was the kind that underwear models showed off, but Stiles couldn't imagine it looking any better on anyone else. He felt Derek's cock pulse beneath his palm and groaned. The thought of what Derek looked like beneath the sheet plagued his mind once more, and he let himself push the boundaries further.

Carefully, he pulled the sheet down and over the man's hips, until it was off his body completely. Those skin-tight woman-pleasers weren't doing him any favors now. When Stiles realized how restrained Derek was in them, he made an excuse for himself. Any good pal would help out a man in need right? It would be painful to have a boner under such tight restrictions. So... removing them would be a service. Right?

Stiles slipped his fingers under the waistband before he had time to convince himself otherwise, and before his common sense woke up and started yelling at him. When he finally released Derek's cock, it bounced up, free at last.

Stiles licked his lips hungrily and couldn't keep him mind from imagining all the dirty things that he could do while Derek remained sleeping there quietly on the bed. Well... quietly wasn't the best term. Derek's moaning was still present, and his constant heaves of breath and agitated movement just pushed Stiles' curiosity further over the edge. With shaky hands Stiles reached out, hesitantly grasping the long, thick neck of it.

His movements were slow and light, ready to pull away at even the slightest movement from the man underneath his clutch. Stiles licked his lips again, falling back onto methods he used to pleasure himself. He was comfortable with what he knew, and was ecstatic to find Derek moving himself in time with Stiles ministrations. He bit his lip as Derek started to breathe heavier and something in his head snapped.

With a final nod of self-assurance, Stiles dipped his head down in one fell swoop.

The rumor that... sexual fluids tasted good was someone's idea of a joke. Stiles squinted his eyes and tried to pass over the taste as he continued to move his head. Pushing the taste aside, it was enough just to have Derek in his mouth. It was similar to the feeling of animalistic pleasure one gets from taking a bite of food probably too big to be putting in your mouth in the first place. Like that gigantic bite of a burger or a massive cut of steak.

It felt good to have his mouth so full, he wondered what it would be like to have that sensation in other parts of his body. He hummed erotically at the thought, his hips starting to twist and circle. He was looking for some sort of friction, his hips were rotating on their own, and he was just so desperate for touch... So desperate in fact that he pulled back with a gasp and a wet pop.

His eyes were fluttering in a sex-induced haze. One hand to his crotch, another running up his bare chest as Stiles caressed himself, pretending they were Derek's touches. He groaned and let his head fall back, about to start folding himself in different areas when... Stiles froze, horrified.

Derek was staring at him with surprised eyes.

He was dead. So dead. So fucking dead. They'd find his body in the creek the next day. Hopefully in once piece, but knowing Derek, he might be reduced to nothing more than rat bites. A throaty growl came from the man beneath him, but just as Stiles prepared himself for death, that same voice hoarsely bit, "Why the hell did you stop?"

Stiles lifted his head and blinked a few times, he must have heard that wrong, "Wh-what?"

"Who said you could stop?"

"Y-You want me to-?"

Derek growled and thrust his hips upward in silent demand. Stiles understood, he was just flabbergasted with this new development, not that he was complaining, of course. Lust overwhelmed him and his instinct kicked in. He fell right back into a more vigorous pace, ecstatic for the events about to take place. His mind wandered to what Derek's intentions were if he wasn't going to push Stiles away. Did he want more? Did he just want to get off now that he was all hot n' bothered?

The groaning became loud and prominent as a hand clasped what it could of Stiles' hair. He was starting to have troubles breathing, but trooped on as Derek started to shudder and hold onto Stiles tighter. His hips snapped up again and again into Stiles' throat as his moans started to falter in their voice and Derek's orgasm burst through and into his mouth. Stiles thought he might actually choke on what was being shoved down his throat.

Derek let out a content sigh when Stiles pulled back, wiping the corners of his mouth with his arm.

"So..." Derek huffed, catching his breath, "You gonna tell me... what the hell... that was about...?"

Stiles chuckled and shook his head. He snaked his way up a few inches and flipped a leg over Derek's hips, straddling him, "I thought it was pretty self-explanatory." he bent down, hands on Derek's chest and sights set on his lips. He was much more confident now that Derek looked tired out. He wouldn't have the energy to murder him quite yet anyhow... He bit on Derek's bottom lip and grinned.

Derek growled predatorily and grasped Stiles thighs, "What do you think you're doing?"

"Kissing you." Stiles retorted, attaching their mouths again and a slow, drawn-out kiss.

Derek hummed lazily and kneaded the skin of Stiles hips beneath his shirt. Stiles liked to sleep in a little more clothing. He was a little insecure about his body... but truthfully, it was a just feeling. Especially when you spend every other day surrounded by testosterone in big, sick-pack wolf men. It was like trying to compare the skinny, tooth-pick of a kid in high school to the Kalvin Klein models. Not a very fair competition.

Derek seemed to think otherwise. It caught Stiles off guard when he was suddenly flipped onto the other side of the mattress, Derek hovering over him with a carnal gaze. The same hand that had been teasing his hip slithered up and under the material of his shirt, making its way all the way up to his neck. The kiss endured and prospered with Derek roaming his fingers over Stiles' erogenous parts of the neck. The other hand was busy bringing Stiles' leg up and close to Derek's waist. It was so erotic and sensual Stiles would be content even if it didn't go any further, but with the way Derek was touching him... there didn't seem to be much need for worry about that.

His sleeves were pulled over his head and his shirt was discarded. Stiles thought he would cum right then and there in his pants when Derek drew a perky nipple into his mouth and bit gently. He'd already been achingly hard, and Derek's newfound participation was amazingly stimulating. Stiles let out moans of encouragement and tossed his head back, eyes shut and mouth wide open.

"Derek..." he whined, back arching as the wolf licked and bit at his sensitive parts.

A hand much larger than his own cupped the underside of his cock and gave a light squeeze. Stiles bit his lip when he jumped, squeaking with surprise. His body jolted and his back arched when Derek's touches became bolder, and taunting. He started to squirm, and no matter how hard he tried to settle down, his body just couldn't stay still when Derek scraped sharp nails up his sides, ticking along his ribs. Stiles whined and whimpered until Derek took his hand away and crawled up the bed a little further, looming over Stiles. His eyes had become a deep, glowing red, and his features were more pronounced. His jaw and sideburns were more noticeable, and his brows had a deeper furrow to them than the usual scowl.

Stiles recognized the turning, and gasped for a moment, his lusty mind wandering. There were some bigger advantages to being a werewolf, after all.

"Better hang on." Derek growled from above the boy, showing his fangs with a grin, "Because I'm just getting started."