Authors Notes: I got this idea from a tumblr prompt I saw the other day. I can't find it anywhere now, but hopefully whoever wanted it will see this. The basic idea was that Stiles is obscenely loud and dirty in bed and poor Derek has a hard time handling his filthy, filthy mouth. The thought didn't leave me until I wrote this.

Special thanks to no-sign-of-the-city-lights for the quick beta read!


Mouth

The first time Derek and Stiles made love…things did not go exactly as planned. Well, it started out great. There were candles on the nightstand enveloping the bed in a romantic glow, and there was soft music playing from the iPod and Bose system he purchased specifically for the occasion. The sheets were soft and clean—they smelled of milk and honey (a compliment to Stiles' scent of honey, sugar and a hint of chemicals from the Adderall.)

Now you're thinking, "Candles, music—clean sheets?! That is so not Derek." But you'd be wrong. Contrary to popular belief, Derek could do more than scowl and brood. He knew how to romance someone enough to get what he wanted. He wasn't proud of how he learned his seduction skills (a series of one night stands, quick "relationships" and a string of broken hearts) but he was a practiced lover and knew how to make his partner wild with desire. Now you're thinking, "Love 'em and leave 'em? That's fucked up especially considering…" But again, you'd be wrong. Derek always made his intentions clear before beginning a liaison. He explained that they would never be in any sort of long-term relationship. They would have a few days, or maybe even weeks of fun together and then they would move on. He made sure that each of his temporary partners understood the rules before anything began. Some would decline because they were looking for love, others would take it for what it was and have fun with the handsome devil just to say they had, while the rest thought to change Derek's mind—thus the string of broken hearts.

After Kate there was nothing but fuck buddies and one night stands. Then there was Jennifer—which technically wasn't his fault as Stiles had assured him when he staked his claim on Derek's heart and undertook the task of putting the broken man back together. It took months for Stiles to convince Derek that Jennifer had been no better than Kate; that she had used her magic to get him to do what she wanted—that she had basically raped him. But we're getting off track!

The couple started off with kissing. Just kissing. Lots and lots of kissing. Derek wanted to be confident that the sheriff was aware of their budding relationship and while perhaps not exactly approving of it, he accepted and permitted it. And once he knew John Stilinski wasn't going to fill him full of wolfsbane bullets, Derek allowed things progress further…at a very unhurried pace. They moved on to soft caresses over their shirts and after a while under their shirts. And eventually they engaged in make-out sessions minus shirts.

It was no easy feat taking it slow because Stiles' scent alone drove Derek wild. And Stiles aroused…let's just say Derek was in danger of developing hairy palms and it had nothing to do with shifting. It was six months of awkward, painful erections, cold showers and occasionally coming in their pants before Derek felt he was ready to be completely intimate with Stiles. The couple had been intimate in every other way imaginable. Stiles learned Derek from the inside out. He shared stories of Kate, what she had been like, how she had made him feel, of living with the knowledge that he had caused the death of his family—Laura included. Derek he had never told Laura about Kate; maybe if he had, she wouldn't have returned to Beacon Hills alone to trying to learn more about who was responsible for the fire. He shared everything with Stiles because he trusted him, because he knew Stiles would be careful with his heart, because he knew Stiles was it for him. He would never love anyone the way he loved Stiles.

So when Derek felt the time was right, he planned for an evening that would blow every one of Stiles' fantasies out of the water. And let's be honest, it should have been an easy undertaking for a lover as skilled as Derek. But there would be no more quick, emotionless seduction techniques because, this was Stiles—his flawless, beautiful boy—and he planned to channel everything he had ever learned about sex and fucking into making love to this perfect creature who still loved him after learning everything there was to know about him.

It was Stiles' first time so it had to be perfect (candles and music). But things did not quite turn out as he had planned. It was over much more quickly than was normal for Derek. Maybe we should start at the beginning?

The foreplay was everything Derek had imagined and more. The kissing was slow and wet and passionate. He let Stiles undress him first, watching as his boy bit his lip and whimpered quietly at the sight of his naked body. Derek arched into the soft caresses and languid kisses along his fevered skin. He grinned happily as Stiles fumbled his way through his first blow job. It was messy and clumsy with a broken rhythm and not enough suction and it was perfect because it was Stiles in all his beautiful, enthusiastic glory.

Because it was his first time, Derek thought it a bad idea to give him too much physical stimulation. He wanted the first time Stiles came during actual sex to be while Derek was buried inside him. So he moved him onto his belly and carefully breached him one finger at a time. Stiles buried his face in the pillow and Derek was hard pressed to pay attention to anything but the way his body grasped at his fingers and stretched so prettily around the digits. Later he would realize that any noise Stiles made was muffled by the pillow and the sound of blood rushing through his ears as he opened him up for the first time.

When Derek moved Stiles onto his back his breath caught. He looked like he was in pure ecstasy and that made Derek bite his lip and his cock jerked and gushed precome onto Stiles' thigh. As he slowly worked himself into Stiles, his boy gave only grunts of discomfort and his erection flagged slightly. Derek hated that he couldn't take the pain from Stiles without losing his own erection—which was something they would experiment with later on. For now he had to deal with the sounds and smells of pain coming from his lover until he bottomed out and Stiles' body adjusted to him.

When Stiles seemed okay, Derek leaned down over him and pressed kisses to his parted lips. His first tentative stroke was met with a groan of discomfort, but the second was met with a surprised exhalation of breath. The ache seemed to leave him quickly as Derek moved with slow half-thrusts. When Stiles' legs wrapped around him and his hands settled on Derek's back, squeezing slightly with each of his forward thrusts, Derek knew he was okay for more.

He pulled all the way out to the tip, paused, and then pushed back in until his pelvis was pressed against Stiles' ass. Stiles moaned softly and Derek's hips gave an involuntary jerk at the sound. He repeated the movement. It started with quiet but heavy breaths and soft "ohhs" and "ahhs". Derek kept his thrusts slow and steady, not wanting to push too hard too soon. But then Stiles' nails began scraping down his back and his hips rocked up to meet each of Derek's thrusts. So Derek picked up the pace; going a little faster, a little harder. The feel of Stiles wrapped around him so hot and tight was making Derek's head spin. Stiles' cock was back to full mast and spurting precome between them. The scent of sex and arousal coming off of him was driving him insane, but it was when the noises started that Derek was truly lost.

It began with a whisper of "More. Please, Derek more," Derek's hips stuttered and shook, but he maintained control. He hitched Stiles' legs higher on his hips, pressed his knees into the mattress and began plunging into his clenching hole faster and faster.

The room filled with the sound of their flesh slapping and the, "Fuck, Derek so good," which was whined into Derek's ear. Derek began nibbling and sucking on Stiles shoulder to keep his own cries quiet. He didn't consciously notice it, but he wanted to hear nothing but the dirty words spewing from Stiles' beautiful mouth. There was a lot of cursing and shouting to various deities when Derek slipped a hand beneath Stiles, clutched his ass and pulled him closer, changing the angle. He pushed harder, pressed deeper. Stiles cried out louder, groaned and grunted and sobbed, "Oh my fucking God, Derek!"

He called out his name like a mantra, like a prayer, "Derek! Derek! Derek!"

Derek's hips hitched and stuttered, there was no longer a steady, driving rhythm, just jerks and spasms and his cock swelling bigger. "Oh fuck me! Fuck me so hard!"

And that was it.

Derek was coming and there was no stopping it.

Derek's cock twitched and streams of hot come poured into Stiles who was still howling such indecent, obscene things. Derek grasped his hips and pulled him down onto his cock. Derek's body shook with the intensity of his orgasm and his hips juddered against Stiles', trying to go deeper, to bury himself so far into Stiles that they wouldn't know where one ended and the other began.

He lost time; zoning out for several moments and it was the desperate lurching of Stiles' hips that brought him back. Derek shook his head clear and apologized his way down to Stiles' red swollen cock where he begged forgiveness by sucking Stiles into a screaming orgasm.

Later when they were cleaned up and forked together, Stiles facing Derek, head pressed against Derek's chest, Derek apologized once more, "…I don't know what happened, I'm usually…" he didn't want to say better; didn't want to boast about his sexual prowess because that was just douchey. "I usually have more restraint than that."

Stiles chuckled softly, "It's okay; you've never been inside the awesomeness that is my ass." He teased. "Between that and the months of cock-blocking yourself, it was bound to be over quick."

"But I wanted—"

Stiles pressed his fingers to Derek's lips without lifting his head from Derek's chest. "Shut up; my first time was perfect. It was everything I wanted and more. You made me feel good and loved, like I was something precious to you. How long it lasted was never something I cared about. We both came our brains out; that's perfect to me."

Derek drifted off to sleep with a satisfied smile on his face.

The second time they made love, Derek took Stiles on his hands and knees. The pornographic rambling started almost immediately. It was somewhere around, "Ram that big fucking cock into me!" that Derek lost it and came with a surprised, choked off growl. Derek flipped Stiles onto his back and redeemed himself with the most intense rim job ever. Stiles came practically untouched and howling.

It was around their fifth time—yes Derek was keeping count because it was a point of pride for him—when Derek finally put two and two together and realized that he needed to find an immunity to Stiles' X-rated mouth. He didn't want to silence him because let's get real; Stiles' dirty talk was porn quality. And not crappy, half-assed, redtube, amateur porn, but Colby Keller levels of porn.

Derek eventually decided his best bet was to wear Stiles out and to find a way to distract himself from Stiles' mouth.

He set the scene again with candles and music, there were strawberries and champagne and every romantic cliché he could think of. He kissed and licked every inch of Stiles' creamy skin, stopping to nip at every mole he found. He sucked marks all over the boy's unblemished skin. Then he rimmed Stiles within an inch of his life. He drew his tongue over the puffy furled opening in teasing strokes, licking and sucking until it was wet and loose. Derek thrust his tongue inside and fucked into Stiles' hole as deep as he could go. He had to reach a hand beneath himself and squeeze the base of his cock to keep from coming when Stiles began sobbing, "Eat my ass! Fuck your tongue in there!"

By the time Derek flipped him over and wrapped his lips around his cock it only took two downward strokes of his mouth before Stiles was coming down Derek's throat. Derek worked him back up to full steam and made Stiles come again with four fingers buried in his ass and a fist around his shaft. Derek had to, literally, bite through his lip to keep from coming as Stiles demanded, "More! Gimme more!" and "Another finger, I can take four." and "One day I want your whole fucking fist. I want you to shoving it into me hard and deep!" Stiles came shooting across his stomach and chest when Derek's fingers pressed against his prostate.

Derek pounced before the shaking stopped. He figured Stiles would be too come drunk and lethargic at the start and that he could get inside him, fucking him for long drawn out minutes before he regained enough consciousness to dirty-talk Derek into a premature orgasm. He was so, so wrong.

He didn't know how Stiles managed it, but had to chalk it up to him being an inexperienced teenager with the stamina to match. Stiles got hard almost immediately after Derek shoved into him and established a slow teasing rhythm. The quite "oohs" and "ohhs" began, followed by louder "mmms"and "ahhs". And then the soft curses and Stiles' hands began clawing against Derek's biceps. When Derek pressed in deep and Stiles said his name like a prayer, he pulled out abruptly, causing Stiles to whine in dissatisfaction. Derek breathed deeply and then grasped Stiles by his sides and none too gently flipped him into his stomach.

If anything it made it worse. Apparently Stiles liked when Derek man handled him. "Fuck yeah! Toss me around. Show me how fucking strong you are!"

Derek thrust into Stiles and began fucking him fast and hard. He thought about baseball and fighting the omegas that sometimes made their way through their territory with ill intentions on their minds. He thought about pack meetings and the frown Scott always made when Derek and Stiles showed affection for one another. Not because he disliked their union, but because Stiles was his brother and no one wanted to watch their brother making out.

It all helped and he felt his orgasm subside. It drew back into his pelvis and up his stomach and spreading throughout his body in brilliant waves of pleasure. Stiles returned to full form, "Fuck me so hard Derek! I wanna feel you for days." Derek's breathing deepened. "I want everyone to know you've been here." Derek growled possessively at that. Stiles pushed back against Derek, screwing up his rhythm. "Bruise me! When my ass stops aching I wanna be able to feel that you were there!"

"Fuck!" Derek growled and pulled out, but not before squeezing his hands on Stiles' hips hard enough to leave his mark. He flipped Stiles around until he was on his side with his leg thrown over Derek's opposite shoulder and then slammed himself back inside.

"Oh fuck yeah! I want it rough!" Stiles cried.

Derek was fucked.

He took a deep breath and accepted his fate. Derek would never truly be able to make sex with Stiles last because no matter how slow, fast, straightforward or teasing Derek was, Stiles' mouth never stopped. And it was his voice, his words that drove Derek to the brink every time.

"I'm so glad I waited! No one could have ever fucked me like you do." Stiles cried as he wrapped his hand around his cock and began stroking it wildly.

"No!" Derek gritted out and slapped Stiles hand away from his cock as he pulled out. "That's mine and you can't touch until I say you can." Derek said in a low threatening voice. Stiles whimpered and his cock twitched.

Derek grabbed him by his hips and roughly maneuvered him around the bed. Stiles just went limp; biting his lip with excitement as Derek forcefully moved him where he wanted him. He was lying sideways on the bed, head hanging off the edge, and pillows stuffed under the small of his back, raising his hips to where Derek wanted them.

When Derek pressed inside at that angle, his cock head brushed against Stiles' prostate. "Oh fuck, there! Fuck me there! Like that!" he called out.

The blood rushing to Stiles' head did nothing to quiet him. Derek growled in frustration as he pushed into Stiles' body fast and deep. His orgasm was pooling in his lower belly again and threatening to surface, but he wasn't ready yet!

Derek withdrew again, needing to stop the friction on his cock. He pulled the pillows from beneath Stiles and tossed them to the floor. He caught Stiles by the ankles and hauled his limp form into a new position. His head was back on top of the mattress while his ankles rested on either of Derek's shoulders. Derek bent him in half, sliding his legs up until the backs of Stiles' knees were on his shoulders and Derek could kiss Stiles' wet, dirty mouth as he pushed back inside.

He drove in fast and hard, slamming his pelvis into Stiles' ass forcefully, "Derek!" came his strangled cry and that was mostly all he managed to chant as Derek fucked into him relentlessly. Fast, hard, deep; angled to the left and, "Fuck there—Derek!"

Derek knew he was going to come within minutes and planned to make sure Stiles came with him this time. Even if this was the only time he ever managed it. He rocked his hips from side to side, rotated them, teased him while still pounding into him. "Fuck me Derek! Fucking make me come!"

"I want you to come for me Stiles!" Derek rasped, "Come from just my cock."

"Oh fuck! Fuck—yes! Fucking make me come!"

Derek felt his balls tightening and knew he was a goner. "Come all over us Stiles."

There was a sobbed chorus of, "fuckmefuckmefuckme" and Stiles was coming, shooting come between them, his ass clenching and spasming around Derek's thrusting cock. Finally Derek had succeeded in making Stiles come while he was buried inside him. Derek's roar, as he came, shook the loft (and probably scarred all of his betas for life). He came so hard it was nearly painful. He was shaking and gasping and…crying. Derek was crying!

He had never experienced anything like that with anyone—ever! Stiles…Stiles drove him to the brink, made him crazy—made him shoot his brains out through his dick. He maneuvered Stiles onto the bed in a prone position and collapsed next to him, panting like he had just cried hysterically for an hour while running a marathon at the same time. And when his heart no longer felt as though it beat out of his chest, he rolled on his side to caress his lover, only to find that he had well and truly worn him out.

Derek smiled to himself; at least he had accomplished that much.