DISCLAIMER: I OWN NOTHING!
AUTHOR'S NOTE: FIRST FANFIC, ACTUALLY I'M NOT COMPLETELY CAUGHT UP WITH THE SHOW JUST YET BUT I JUST WANTED TO WRITE SOMETHING FOR THE FANDOM. I HOPE YOU LIKE IT, CONSTRUCTIVE CRITICISM WOULD BE HELPFUL. THE CHARACTERS MIGHT BE A BIT OOC AS WELL, BUT I THINK YOU'LL ENJOY THEM LIKE THIS.
WARNING: THIS IS A BOY X BOY LEMON! IF THAT'S NOT YOUR THING WELL YOU'VE BEEN WARNED, EVERYONE ELSE ENJOY.
TEMPORARY BLISS
You pull up at the curb of the giant house. Multicolored and flashing lights stream out of the windows, music fills the air, and teens of all kinds spill out of the house. Lydia really knew how to throw the best parties. You can't get out of the car yet. You fix your hair in the rearview mirror, desperately trying to make the brown locks stay down instead of everywhere lIke some crazy person. No matter how fervently your fingers brush back your hair, it never stays.
Melancholy, you sigh in the mirror, lightly clouding the glass with your breath and give up. Your hair has clearly won (...whatever). You unbuckle your seatbelt and take the key out of the ignition, as your eyes sweep over the inside of the jeep. It's clean enough. There are some candy wrappers on the floor and an empty can of soda still in the cupholder. Taking a deep breath, the smell of vanilla fills your nose. Mentally thanking Scott, whose voice you can already hear nagging you, 'It's not for you dude! It smells like sweat and curly fries'.
The frown on your face transforms into a smirk, thinking about your best friend. He's always been more like a brother to you over the years, and you feel a mixture of sadness and happiness that he's gotten his own life. The more you walk on the cracked sidewalk, taking care to sidetrack the drunken teenagers and snuffed out cigarettes, the more you focus on the good that's come out of Scott having more of a social life and a girlfriend. Such as the new group of friends they both seemed to have gained, amazing friends like...
"Stiles!"
The shout of your name snaps you out of your thoughts, as you jog over to the caller. Smiling lightly at the blonde beauty, Erica Reyes. If you were being honest with yourself, she really is pretty to look at, she was beautiful before she even got a full makeover, she doesnt really need all that makeup coverjng her face. Not that she doesn't look great now but still... "Stiles!" she shouts again when you come to a stop in front of her. "Erica, hey." You reply quickly. She grins at you and takes your hand before leading you through the the crowd of dancing teenagers (more like just plain grinding).
She helps you slither through the mass bodies, ignoring the crowd until she comes to a quiet-ish corner in the living room and falls down onto Boyd's lap. She pats a seat on the leather next to them. You settle down and wave a greeting at everyone. Allison, Scotts girlfriend, sits on the left of Boyd and Erica. She may seem small and quiet, but she's alot tougher than most of the girls you've ever met.
Kira smiles at you from her seat across from you. She giggles and laughs at whatever her boyfriend, Isaac murmurs in her ear. You acknowledge them, before noticing Scott finally heading in with a tray of drinks and with Jackson and Lydia not far behind him. "Stiles, hey man glad you could make it". He says smiling at you before taking a seat next to Allison. "Yeah bud, wouldn't miss the first party of the year for anything." You say. "I'm sure you had nothing better to do anyways." Jackson says (still a dick). But you don't answer, instead you notice a pair of familiar green eyes staring at you intently.
"Stiles? Are you okay?" a gentle voice pops up. Your eyes dart toward her, narrowing marginally; Kate Argent. That's her name. She's pretty in a conventional way, no matter how she tries to hide it. She's Allison cousin who just moved in at the start of the school year, your not sure if it's biased that you can't seem to like her or if there's just something off about her.
You jolt out of your thoughts as she asks you the same question while she sits in the lap of Derek Hale, the star of the highschool varsity basketball and baseball team. She blinks at you innocently and tilts her head in an annoyingly puppy-like fashion. "I'm fine, just a little hot," you lie.
Scott laughs richly and slaps you on the back hard. "Of course you're hot, you're dressed all dark in 98 degree weather. What made you wear black jeans, a black t-shirt, black sneakers and a red hoodie?"
You duck your head and blush. You like your dressing style and he does too. You briefly look into the riveting, mystic green eyes of Derek. Their hue is unlike anything you've ever seen before, and they're so expressive – so many emotions can splay across them at once. Your personal favorites are anger and lust.
You avert your stare from Derek before you get too enthralled and turn your attention back to Scott, grousing. "At least I don't follow stereotypes and wear a motorcycle jacket just cause I got one."
The whole bunch laughs and oooo's at the comment. "Here's got you there, Scotty." Allison says in between giggles.
"Whose side are you on?" Scott playfully whines. "You're my girlfriend."
"So?"
Laughs fills the air yet again and the group continues to trade jokes and playful jabs. You stay out of most of the conversation. You really don't feel like talking, for once. In fact, you are too focused on trying not to think about Derek Hale, but he's right there. Right in your proximity. It burns you to not touch him, to not sit on his lap as Kate Argent does.
But then reality crashes down on you. You realize that you can't. No one knows about him and you.
And for good reason. It would cause too much of a scandal, especially since you're barely legal at sixteen, and school isn't the most accepting of homosexual culture. At least that's what Derek says. You believe him even though it sounds weird and out of place because you don't want to ruin it. You kinda want Derek to remain your personal secret, and you kinda what to push Kate into the curb and claim Derek as yours.
A sudden urge wells inside you as you're filled by an intense desire for Derek. You grunt and shift in your seat, forgoing all sure-to-fail attempts at trying to push the muscular teen from your thoughts. Your mind seems to take a backseat and your body does all the work. Your legs gather you from the seat, your arms dust you off, your mouth opens and out tumbles, "I've got to go to the bathroom." Your face burns at how childish it sounds, but who cares?
Lydia is the first to take action. "Its upstairs on the left," she says brightly.
"Thanks," you say.
You then turn on your heel and slowly walk off, your head in the clouds. Derek will fire off some half-assed excuse and come after you. You're sure of it. Your steps are measured as you walk up the staircase, pushing past many couples on the way up. This isn't your house, but you know where the bedroom and the bathroom is. You don't have to go to the bathroom, that's just a pitiful excuse. You head to the bedroom and open the door without preamble.
There's a couple on the bed in the middle of a heavy makeout session. You barely break a sweat. Your saunter is confident. You head over there, tapping the guy politely on the shoulder. He swats at you, but doesn't break away from his girlfriend. You tap at him again, this time more forcefully. He pulls from his girlfriend's lips, glaring at you with his muddy brown eyes.
It takes a second for him to register who you are. His mouth drops open but nothing comes out, before he suddenly grabs his girlfriend's hand and pulls her along out the door. It's a new reaction, you've been getting lately since your dad the Sheriff put out a murderer who hado been terrorizing the town over the summer. It's kinda boosted you up actually, even gaining a bit of respect from coach, which might not much but hey at least he gets your last name right now.
You shrug. You aren't in the mood to think about how your father's work affects your reputation with people. Instead, you sit on the bouncy queen-sized bed, throwing off your jacket, patiently waiting for Derek. You twist and untwist your legs, folding your arms and then letting them fall to the plush puke-green covers. You bite your lips, vaguely recognizing that you are acting like some prepubescent girl. You always act like this, though, when it comes to him, so what does it matter?
Derek changes you. As cliché as it is to say, he brings out something in your that you never even knew was there, something you want, something you need to have. He makes you feel alive and like someone important. Derek iignites a fire within you that burns oh, so brightly, and feels like it'll never go out. He's the reason you smile more often, why you tolerate people around him. Derek's the reason for the little bit of happiness you thought you'd lose since Scott started hanging out more with Allison.
Your lips quirk and your cheeks heat up when you realize the direction your pondering has taken. You think about a situation where you actually have to voice your love-stricken thoughts. You'd be so embarrassed. The very notion sets your cheeks aflame.
"You're cute when you blush," a deep voice rumbles. You whirl around from the corner of the bed to face a smirking Derek Hale. He closes the bedroom door and locks it with one swift motion. His words have only served to make you blush harder. You're sure your face resembles the red of a fire truck.
He walks in that sexy confident gait of his, and you watch his approach, transfixed. The mattress dips minutely from Derek's added weight. He easily tugs you into his lap. You don't have the chance to complain about his abrupt behavior because he forcefully grabs your chin and presses his lips to yours in a hungry kiss. Your eyes widen for a second before they slide shut, and you accept the kiss wordlessly.
He harshly bites your bottom lip, forcing his tongue inside your mouth. You don't fight for dominance or do any of that crap. Derek is almost very much like a wild animal, like a wolf. He's an overpowering alpha male who has to be the one fucking or giving orders. You never say anything against that. You can't. Derek would never accept that.
You kiss back, your hands wrap around his neck, pulling him closer to you. Liquid need pools within your belly. You want more of Derek, so, so much more. He breaks away from the kiss, gluing his lust-filled gaze on you. "You're so fucking beautiful, Stiles," he praises you. His right hand caresses your cheek tenderly. "Gods, there are so many things I want to do to you. I want to watch you take my cock inch by inch into your tight little ass." By now he's palming you through your jeans, creating such a delicious friction that all you can do is whimper, nod, and buck your hips. You want him to do all those things to you. Now.
"I want to hear all those lovely little noises your pretty mouth makes." He leans into your ear and whispers, "Most of all, I want… no, I have this craving… to bend you over every damn edge in this room and fuck you so fucking hard that you can't remember anyone's name but mine. Would you like that, Stiles?"
A drawn-out moan is the only answer you can manage. Derek smirks and kisses you chastely on your pulsing lips. He acts so fast that you find yourself lying, flipped onto the bed, before you even realize it's happening. Derek appraises you from his spot on the bed before he takes his shirt off and rips your black one, throwing them somewhere on the floor.
You struggle not to drool, or wolf-whistle like those old cartoons. Derek's built like a greek god. He's utter perfection with his pecs, six-pack abs, and that teasing trail of hair that travels from his navel to the package below. "Sexy," you blurt out in a daze.
"Thanks," he winks. He easily crawls over to you and straddles you, rocking his hips slowly. His cock moves over yours, again, creating that wonderful agonizing friction. All you can do is rock with him, hoping he'll speed up just a bit. This is good and all, but he's wearing jeans and so are you, and you'd rather have more skin.
He continues to grind against you, and your underwear is wet from the precum leaking from your cock. "There are so many things that I wanna do to you, Stiles," he whispers as he speeds up a bit. "But we don't have the time. I guess we'll have to settle for something quick," he muses. "Is that okay?"
You growl. "Yes! Just stop with the dry humping arleady. It's driving me nuts!"
Derek gives you that stupid smirk again. He shimmies out of his pants and pulls off your black jeans. You're wearing Batman boxers and he's wearing nothing. You stare at his cock, nestled by curls of black hair, the tip dripping pearls of white precum. "You want this, babe?" he asks huskily.
"Yes," you plead.
"Are you sure…"
You don't bother to reply this time. You peel off your boxers, springing your erection free. You shudder at the feel of the room's ventilation all over your warming body, but you don't make a sound. You hold up three fingers for Derek to see. He eyes you curiously but doesn't comment. Slowly, you bring your fingers to your mouth. You circle your lips with each finger, inserting each appendage into your hot, wet mouth.
He raises both eyebrows, and his attention focuses entirely on you. You suckle on each of your fingers like you would a lollipop. Periodically, your tongue darts from its spot to lick each finger up and down until it's covered in spit. When you've deemed your fingers wet enough, you take them out with a loud pop.
You're still locked onto Derek's intense gaze as your fingers skip down your naked body. You moan heatedly at the trail your fingers make, it feels so good to be cooled off just a bit, and the way the air hits your cock – shit, it's almost enough to make you cum at this moment. Your pale fingers finally make it to their destination. You wiggle under Derek's weight to spread your legs far enough for what you're going to do. It takes a bit of time, but when you do it, it's great.
You slip all three fingers into your tight hole up to the knuckles. You squirm at the sudden intrusion and the bit of pain that comes along with it, but you easily get used to it. It's nothing like your first time (hurt like a bitch), and this is so much easier. You drag your fingers out and then slam them back in, scissoring around until you find that one spot – that spot being your prostate. Your fingers go in and out, hitting the same sweet spot over and over, your pleasure making you so delirious.
You moan, looking at Derek through hooded eyes as you fuck yourself. You are quite happy doing this. If Derek doesn't want to join in, so be it. You like that he's watching you. You move your fingers deftly through your hole, groaning every time you dive in. You're terribly slick and heated inside as your ass clenches around your fingers in an indescribable way. You fling your head back in intense pleasure as you use your other hand to play with your cock. The most obscene noises sprout from your lips when you start jerking yourself off.
"Der-Derek" you mewl. You imagine him doing all of this to you, and more. It almost pushes you off the edge. Your fingers move with inhuman speed within you, as does the hand on your cock. Your toes curl and you feel that climax coming. Your fingers tease the slit of your head as you're still hitting that wonderful spot.
"Oh! Oh! Oh!" you cry wantonly, writhing on the bed until strong hands wrap around yours, ceasing all action. You let out a groan of disappointment, and glare at Derek for ruining your oncoming orgasm.
"Only I'm allowed to make you come!" he says roughly, snatching your fingers away from your ass with a squelching sound and prying your fingers from your aching cock. Derek wraps your legs around his bare waist and pushes in without warning.
"Shit," you gasp. You remember to take deep breaths. You've stretched yourself quite a bit, but Derek is still bigger and wider than your fingers. It takes time to get used to his length inside you. "Shit," you say again.
Derek breathes hard, gritting his teeth. His cheeks are dusted with pink. You can tell he's struggling not to move until you give the command. You take a shuddering breath. "M-move," you stutter. He nods at you and takes an experimental thrust forward. You aren't happy with that. You're not a fragile twink who can't take a cock up the ass.
"Move!" you say with more conviction, snapping your hips up.
You don't have to repeat yourself a third time. He leans forward, kisses your lips hungrily once, and then places his head at the crook of your neck. You can't see it, but you can feel his challenging smirk. "Hold on tight," he warns.
You don't have time to question him on his choice of words because he starts pounding into you. All thoughts of coherency fly out the window as he sears hot kisses up the side of neck while he relentlessly pounds your fucking sweet spot over and over again. He's so fucking good at this! Shit! Your nails dig deeply into his back. You struggle to keep up with his insane pace.
"Y-you should see yourself, Stiles All debauched like this, taking my cock in your ass like a bitch in heat," he grunts at the base of your neck.
You don't have a witty comeback for Derek, or anything else to say, really. All that flies from your mouth is "Jesus fuck yes, Derek, harder, faster, fuck!"
The bed's rhythm matches Derek's and you feel yourself nearing completion. Your balls are pulled taut in anticipation. That certain tingle starts building up within you, and you grasp Derek closer, fire burning in your eyes. "Shit! Derek, stop being such a pansy and fuck me! Or would you rather I find Danny?"
The older boy freezes momentarily. You whine in the back of your throat. You want him to go, hard, fast…
Then Derek growls throatily.
"You." He hits your prostate directly.
"Are." He pushes so far in, God, you've never felt fuller than you do at this moment, and you're loving it.
"Mine!" You choke back a scream. Shit! You feel yourself exploding, spurting hot cum all over your stomach and his.
You breathe in deeply as Derek continues to fuck your hole for a couple more minutes before he, too, comes to an orgasm with your name on his lips. You squirm a bit uncomfortably at the feel of Derek's milky seed in your ass. Well, it's uncomfortable, yes, but not completely unwelcome.
Derek pulls out of you and rolls to your side, sweaty, and breathing like he's run two miles nonstop. You, on the other hand, have come down from your blissful high. You scoot closer to Derek, the urge to cuddle strong in your mind. You roll your eyes at your girlish thoughts. Cuddle? Pshaw.
Derek notices you. He grins lopsidedly. "Have I ever told you how much I love you?" he asks teasingly.
You grin hugely. "Shaddup, you sap."
Derek chuckles. He sits up on the crumpled bed sheets, scratching his head. He glances at you once before he cautiously gets up from the bed. He's a little wobbly on his feet, but he manages to grab his clothes off the ground, expertly slipping them back on.
A cold feeling encompasses you. Your grin diminishes, transforming into scowl that would make your father proud. "You're leaving." It isn't a question, can't be a question if you already know the answer.
"Yeah, it's been twenty minutes. Kate and the others will start looking for us soon," he explains. You shake your head. Hysterical laughter bubbles in your throat. You know he's making another excuse but you can't bring yourself to say a word against him.
You settle for a bitter, "You're going back to her."
Derek takes a couple of steps in your direction. He bends down to the carpet, on his knees, and cups your face in his calloused hands. He forces you to look him in the eyes. "You know it isn't like that."
Yeah? You struggle not to spit back at him. If 'it isn't like that', how come he indulges her? How come you catch him and his little floozy in make-out sessions, his hands dipping into her panties? How come he presents her proudly as his girlfriend, and leaves you in the dust?
How come he won't come out of the closet for you and be your boyfriend?
"It's you I love, Stiles. Never her," he says, his voice full of conviction. He leans up to press a lingering kiss on your forehead, and then he leaves.
His words resound within you. Love? He actually loves you?
The words leave you in a pleasurable fog. You wait the customary ten minutes before you get yourself ready. Your pants and boxers chaff weirdly against your ass but you guess that's because of the dried semen. Derek's semen. You pick up your shirt before throwing it in a trash bin after noticing to too torn up to putbon, before just deciding to zip up your hoodie instead. You're lucky that there's a full bodied mirror in the room. You twist and turn, checking your appearance. Your cheeks are slightly flushed, but Derek hasn't left any visible marks on you. Your hair is a bit messy with odd ends sticking out. Your hands crawl up to fix it, but at the last second you decide to just leave it be. After all, it gives you the sexy bedhead look.
When you deem yourself ready, you exit the bedroom. It's loud out here. People are chatting, the music blares, and the same people are still glued together on the staircase. You push and shove your way downstairs, ducking out of the way to get to your destination: the living room.
Your group of friends are still secluded in the same corner, taking up all the leather upholstery. You notice there are red cups clutched in their fingers. You squeeze in next to Scott, grinning when he yelps in surprise. "Stiles! Man, where have you been? You were gone almost as long as Derek!"
You glance away, shifting. "My dad likes to feed me lots of fiber, okay…?" You glance back at Scott who's staring at you blankly. Sighing, you don't bother to explain. Allison will do it for you.
Your stare finds Derek's seconds later. Kate sits in his lap primly with his arm wrapped tightly around her waist. She's giggling at something, yakking to Derek. You want to trade places with her, you want to go over there and kiss your boyfriend in front of all the others instead of sitting here all alone, surrounded by couples.
He's yours, not her's.
He has your heart, but do you have his? You shrug your shoulders at your wordless question.
You're about avert your steep gaze, but just then Derek mouths to you. 'I love you,' he says silently, the words forming clearly on his lips. He then smiles. You smile right back even as Kate gets up from her spot and yanks him on the wrist and leans up on her tippy toes to whisper something in his ear.
Derek nods at her. She winks at all of you and disappears into the ground. You know what they're about to do, but you're content with the fact that you have Derek's heart and love.
