Thank you karenec for pre-reading and Sue273 for betaing. Much love to BregoMellonNin for being an awesome friend and writing companion.
This is the second of two short Sterek PWP's I've written with the character's (read: me) having certain kinks. I might add to the series at some point. The first one you can find on my profile.
Those Skinny Guys
The first time Derek takes Stiles' finger in his mouth and sucks on it, Stiles feel like he's falling. He's on his knees in front of his boyfriend with Derek's spent, flaccid cock in his hand, still playing with the foreskin he loves so much, when Derek bats his hand away and lifts it to his mouth instead.
Stiles had never thought about fingers as an erogenous zone before, but as Derek sucks his index finger all the way in and Stiles is engulfed in the warmth and wetness there, he's done for. He whimpers, a completely involuntarily sound forming in his chest and escaping from his slack lips.
He had no idea the skin there was so sensitive.
Derek extracts Stiles' finger slowly, cheeks hollowing as his red lips pucker around it and Stiles can't take his eyes away. Derek grunts, "You're not the only one who wants to play, Stiles." Stiles swallows hard.
Derek's gaze burns into Stiles' as he leisurely flicks his tongue between Stiles' index and middle finger, and it actually feels like Derek's playing with his cock, under the head where it's the most arousing. Pleasure jerks through Stiles' body when Derek grins at him, "Mh mh, I love your long fingers."
Stiles decides that from then on, he's offering his hand to Derek as often as possible.
He hears his voice has gone all deep and raw as he wonders, "What is it you want to do with them?"
Derek's imprisoning gaze holds Stiles steady. "Well, what would you let me do?" he asks in a way Stiles find filthy, in sharp contrast to the soft, innocent kiss he's placing on Stiles' knuckles.
"Mmm." Light-headed from excitement flowing through him, Stiles exhales. "Anything."
Derek holds up Stiles' hands, fingers wrapped around the wrists as he studies each side of them like he's considering what to do first. Then he braids their fingers together, mumbling, "I want you on my bed for this."
He rises up and Stiles scrambles to follow, agreeing easily, "Sure."
Derek lets go of his hands before flopping Stiles down on his bed, watching him bounce until he's settled. Derek catches the hem of Stiles' jeans, strips them off and flings them to the floor, and Stiles throws his t-shirt behind his head.
Stiles feels his mind is surprisingly quiet when he's on Derek's bed, waiting for his boyfriend to tell him what to do. He trusts Derek to show him what he's been fantasizing about instead of attacking this new thing like he usually does with his curious mind permanently racing.
Derek gets out of his own clothes before setting his knees down on the mattress one at the time between Stiles' legs, grabbing his hands again and braiding their fingers together. Stiles is sure Derek's hearing Stiles' thundering pulse as anticipation builds in him.
Derek hums, his green eyes flickering red for a moment, and Stiles is sure that if he had the werewolf's hearing, he'd hear two racing hearts. Derek places Stiles' hands flat on Stiles' stomach, resting under his hard-on, and Stiles feels himself not wondering, but waiting. Then Derek starts to stroke himself slowly, fingertips over the head on the upstroke and pressing on the underside after, just the way Stiles knows he likes it.
Stiles watches, mesmerized as his boyfriend jerks himself off in front of him, the purple head alternating between hiding and exposure as Derek roughly pulls at the skin. The muscles in his arm are tense as he works himself and his veins obscene under the hairy werewolf skin.
Unthinkingly, he grabs at Derek's hips, but that's clearly not how Derek wants it. "Fuck no, Stiles!" he grunts. "Keep your hands on your stomach where I can come on them." Stiles' breathing hitches, rushing to move them back.
"Shit!" Derek breathes then, his hand working himself furiously as his eyebrows draw together in concentration. He swears again before he's spurting his come over Stiles' fingers, and they're both watching them get covered—marked—with Derek's fluids.
Derek's body jolts as the last drops trickle out and he leans back, white teeth showing in a grin.
Stiles reaches behind his head for his discarded t-shirt to dry his fingers but Derek bats the fabric away. "What now, then?" Stiles asks, waiting for directions.
"Get yourself off using my come," Derek rasps, his voice as dark as his eyes. "I want to see your fingers on your dick with my come."
Stiles is sure he whines, "Fuck Derek!" as he smears Derek's come over his own dick, wetting his purple and full shaft. It's a relief to touch it.
"Okay," Stiles inhales, noticing his own chest flush as he lifts his legs, spreading them wide and giving Derek a perfect vision of his groin. Derek grabs at Stiles' knees as Stiles wraps his wet fingers around his own length, tentatively tugging at it while smearing his own pre-come and Derek's fluids around with his thumb.
Stiles is breathing in short huffs when Derek strokes the inside of his thighs, his boyfriend's gaze never leaving his slippery fingers. This will be a very short enjoyment for Derek, Stiles realizes as he feels the familiar pull quickly approaching. He grabs his balls, fondling them in the way he likes to prolong his orgasm, fingers flying over his dick, and then he's coming, body jerking as his come hits his chest and stomach. A few more pulls and he slows down and stops, panting.
"This is the most quiet I've ever seen you," Derek notes, staring at Stiles' come-covered fingers still wrapped around his dick. Stiles relaxes his hand then, wiggling his fingers experimentally. Derek's reaction does not disappoint. He grabs hold of Stiles' hips, rolling them over together so Stiles is lying on top of him, hands braced on Derek's chest before Derek grabs them and starts licking at them, humming.
"Fuck, Derek. You really get off on my fingers, don't you?"
Derek grunts around his pinky before nibbling at the knuckles. "Mm, I love them. They are perfect for you; long and skinny. I've got lots of plans for them."
Stiles combs his fingers in Derek's hair, feeling the softness of the strands as he leans down to kiss him, deep and intense, Derek's arms holding him close. Stiles tilts his head back, grinning as he notices Derek's hair sticking up.
"What?" Derek smiles.
"Nothing," Stiles snickers. "Homemade hair gel."
A/N: Thank you for reading!