Stiles believes himself to be a fast learner. You know, quick on the uptake, sponge-like retention. All that jazz. So when he finally wears Derek down to inching their relationship further than clandestine hand holding and they finally get enough alone time to actually make out, Stiles expects to be a wizard by the end of the session.

Only that's not nearly how things went. They're at the point where Stiles is practically laying on top of Derek, but the kisses are still mostly close-mouthed and chaste, though Derek's hands seem to have no qualms in making up for the lack of obscenities his mouth is committing.

And that's probably good because Stiles is panicking a little with just this, but it feels good and he thinks he's making more than decent progress because he's gone from no kissing, to lots of kissing. In a bout of spontaneous courage of questionable origin Stiles breaks the kiss and laves at Derek's throat, just soft pecks of lips and enough tongue to get him embarrassed and returning to his original position to stop Derek's amused laughter.

And it's great for awhile, but while the kissing continues, Derek's hands stop. They're gripping his hips, just harder than necessary and while Stiles idly wonders about it nothing seems to happen, so he files the information into the back of his mind and keeps kissing the man beneath him. It takes another moment to realize that Stile must have moved a bit for while Derek's hands are still at his hips they're a little higher than they were. But because it's Stiles' body and he doesn't really care at this moment, he leaves it be, Derek will move his hands soon enough anyway.

Derek's hands don't move for longer than Stiles was expecting and he finally gives in and wiggles up Derek's body a bit so that the pressure pushing him that way is gone. And Stiles swears that he moved up the perfect amount; so that the werewolves hands were not moving the flesh, but just gripping it where it belonged, but the pressure is back again only in the other direction.

Stiles is tempted to break the kiss and ask what the hell Derek wants him to do, after all, if he was uncomfortable with Stiles where he was (which is what he's planning on going with) then why would he ask him to move back?

The teen has time to notice that the heat in his room contrasted with the almost winter wind outside has started to fog up the window, the plane glass that anyone could see through and notice them, the window that kind of made the whole situation more dangerous and enjoyable, before he comes to the only logical conclusion that this position is less comfortable for Derek.

Stiles quickly shifts his weight back, after all, he's always been told that anything to do with sex has more to do with the other person than yourself and Stiles is a gentleman. But then the pressure is there again, the other way, and seriously what does Derek think he's- oh.

Just oh.

Stiles rocks his body up, and the pressure leads him back down. Then back up and. Wow. Stiles has never felt so stupid in his entire life.

Derek soon realizes that Stiles understands what to do and the hands go back to wandering and squeezing and scratching lightly at exposed skin and Stiles keeps the movements up. He notes, after the third time he pulls his mouth from Derek's, that his body goes into a mild panic when it realizes that it doesn't breath properly when his mouth is otherwise occupied. Apparently his nose just isn't providing enough oxygen for his body when it's doing more than sitting still. But Stiles doesn't stop, instead he moves down to Derek's throat again, hoping that maybe if Stiles is controlling the entire thing his body will calm the fuck down.

Only when he does Derek makes a low noise in the back of his throat different than the ones he had been making before.

"Your dad's home."

And they're stopping and Stiles doesn't know if he wants to whine like a child or be glad that any embarrassment he had will leave with the older man.

Then Stiles hears footsteps on the stairs and whining in no longer a valid response and Derek gives him a quick, hard kiss as a goodbye before flitting out the window like a ghost. Stiles misses him immediately.

"Stiles?" his dad opens the door and takes a step in, feeling the cold breeze blowing from the now open window and shivering before bustling to the other side of the room to keep winter out of his house. "You'll catch your death doing something like that. What were you thinking?"

The window is closed now but Stiles shivers anyway, staring at the pane as the steam slowly starts to fade. He pretends he can still see Derek outside and wishes that the wolf would be with him inside where it was warm, crazy supernatural body thermostat or not. "At least I'll be able to catch onto something." He murmurs, feeling even more stupid than he had minutes ago now that the adrenaline and lust begins to dissipate and leave his mind clear.

"It's okay, son. You'll do better next season." His dad rubs his head affectionately as if he still had hair. "Dinner will be ready soon."

And then he's gone, leaving Stiles with the minute he needed to realize that his father had meant lacrosse season and catching the ball or catching a break and actually getting to play. He falls onto his mussed bed trying to will away his deepening embarrassment. He can barely follow his dad's sentences let alone Derek's subtle hints.

Maybe Stiles wasn't as quick to learn things as he once thought, maybe- his eyes fall to the window pane and notice a small heart, faded but still there, drawn onto the window with a finger as a kid would a smile face in a car. Stiles smiled lightly at it; maybe he just needs a teacher.

A/N: You wanna know the best thing about this story? The hip pressure, awkward, not picking up on the fact the other person wants to dry hump thing? Me. That happened. First time "making out" and I was like "WTF" then I caught on and couldn't get over how embarrassing it was.

Either way, hope you enjoyed it!

-WAC