Inspired by a fanart by slashpalooza that can be found here: post/44612334608/sterek-bookmark-panel-by-slashpalooza-i-had-this

Dizzy xx

All Yours, Babe.

Stiles sits on the hood of the Camaro and thinks, between languorous kisses to Derek's throat, that this car was made for school drop off/make out sessions. Even now he can see Danny outright ogling them from across the lot and hot damn, if Stiles had known about his apparent exhibitionism kink he would've tried this earlier.

Derek lifts Stiles' chin with his fingers, nails threatening to push into claws at any second, then drags his hand down Stiles' torso. So okay, Stiles may not be anywhere near Derek's sex god levels of physique but he's past the days of hating his body for it. There's only one person's opinion he cares for and that person is currently standing between his legs pressing their half hard dicks together. In the school parking lot. With dozens of people watching.

"Hell yes," Stiles pants, tilting his head back to deepen the kiss. The following wolfy rumble vibrates right down into Stiles' belly and curls there, hot and heavy and delicious. "Der… Ah, Jesus!" The wolf doesn't release the skin of Stiles' neck from between his teeth, merely sucks and bites harder, apparently hell bent on leaving a mark that won't fade for days. Stiles isn't shocked to find he doesn't mind. It's been months since he's worried about carrying Derek's mark - the mark of his Alpha upon his skin for everyone to see. He wears it with pride because he taps that on a regular basis and everyone should know.

"Stiles!" Scott shouts, somewhere off to their left. He's followed by a series of wolf whistles that are almost definitely Erica. "It's school time! Come on man, you gotta maintain those perfect grades."

"Could you please control your puppies, hon?" He asks breathlessly as Derek scratches his nails down Stiles' denim clad thighs. Fuck, he's gonna blow right here in the parking lot, in his jeans, in front of half the student body and several teachers and he can't find it in him to care one bit.

"At school time they're all yours, babe," Derek replies, nipping and licking his way over the many moles dotting Stiles' pale skin.

"Nu-uh. Not fair. They're - crap! - They're always most awkward… At school," He cuts off with a groan as Derek thrusts their hips together and crap. Double crap.

Stiles comes in his pants like the inexperienced pre-teen he apparently is and several of the watching werewolves make fake retching noises. Derek however just whimpers, stiffens, then turns his face further into Stiles neck and kisses him gently.

"They're yours until 3, you know the rules," he breathes out. The smirk is obvious in his voice.

"You suck."

"Perhaps later," Derek quips back. "Now go, the bell went five minutes ago. I love you." Stiles misses him the second he moves away but he shoulders his back pack and adjusts himself in his jeans. This was a terrible idea. Denim is murder on over-sensitive skin.

"I love you too," he grumbles, setting off towards the rest of the pack but blowing a kiss over his shoulder with a wink. "You adorable jackass."

...

Stiles makes it two steps into the main school building before Lydia drags him by the ear towards the boys' bathroom and pushes a packet of baby wipes into his hands with a stern look. Stiles takes them without question because yeah, denim chafes like a bitch.