I wrote porn. It was an accident, I promise.

Disclaimer: if this was how teen wolf went, it'd probably be an HBO show

"Hey."

Stiles manages a brief inhalation of air before he is being thoroughly kissed, the breath stolen from his mouth by lips pressing over his, hotly, wet and warm and really very eager, to be honest. He kisses back passionately, fisting his hands in material and pulling so that he's being pushed against his jeep.

"Derek." He manages to gasp. "Scott is meant to be here soon."

Please let Scott live up to his reputation of perpetual tardiness.

Derek just gives him an almost feral grin.

"We'll just have to be quick then, won't we?" Stiles makes a breathless little moan in the back of his throat, which is neatly, ferociously swallowed by Derek as he swoops back in to kiss him again.

He tastes like mint. He always tastes like mint, and Stiles thinks it might be his new favourite flavour. So he licks his way into Derek's mouth like it's his job, and Derek slips a hand under his t-shirt like it's his.

Well, more like Stiles is his, to be honest.

Stiles presses back into the hand on his spine, and makes an embarrassing whine when the move takes him away from Derek's chest, which he had been plastered up against.

"Wanna try that one again, Stiles?" Derek huffs a laugh as he scrapes his stubble against the jut of Stiles' jawbone. Stiles unbuttons his shirt messily, slipping his hands inside and thumbing Derek's nipples gently. Derek grins, and bites his lower lip just as gently.

"Shut up, asshole." Stiles retaliates by scratching lines down his back, watching smugly as the werewolf shudders against him. It turns into a game when Derek nips his collarbone sharply enough to make him squeak, and Stiles pinches his ass. Derek snaps his head up from where he has been determinedly sucking a hickey into the skin of Stiles' neck.

"If you stop that I'll suck your dick."

Stiles raises his eyebrow.

"Boo, you whore." Derek just smirks. "Knock yourself out, buddy." He tries to sound nonchalant but he knows Derek is listening to his rapid heartbeat and smirking from where he's lowering himself to his knees. He unzips Stiles' jeans so slowly he thinks he's going insane, but when he finally gets them undone, he wastes absolutely no time whatsoever, he just takes Stiles as far into his mouth as he can go and sucks.

And as far as he can go is apparently burying his nose in Stiles' pubic hair.

"Holy motherfucking christ!" Stiles' yelps, and clutches at Derek's ears clumsily. Derek pulls back smoothly.

"You want Scott to find us like this?"

Well. That would be a scarring experience for all those involved.

"Scott doesn't want Scott to find us like this." He hisses back, but he slides his hands into Derek's hair instead and lets his cock nudge at the man's spit slick lips. "Where the hell did you learn to deepthroat, Der?" The nickname makes Derek do exactly that, sucking Stiles in until his tip is nestled in Derek's throat, and Derek swallows around him a couple of times. He pulls back and goes down again, does that a few times until Stiles is gasping out Derek's name and thrusting involuntarily. But Derek doesn't seem to mind at all, in fact, he sits back a little and gestures at Stiles, wiggles his eyebrows a bit.

"I don't speak eyebrow, Derek."

Derek pulls off his dick and scowls.

"Fuck my face, Stiles." When Stiles doesn't move for a moment, Derek just sighs. "C'mon, I can hear Scott's car. And I'm having fun here."

Stiles fucks his face, after that. He isn't really smooth about it, but then when is he ever smooth? He does manage to avoid choking Derek though, who is...yeah, he's pulled his cock out of his jeans and is stroking it in time with Stiles' thrusts.

It definitely isn't that that tips Stiles over the edge, the sight of Derek's hand on his cock, and his face flushed with pleasure, tiny moans escaping from around Stiles' dick. Not at all.

And Derek just swallows him down, licks his lips like he wants more, and carries on jerking off on his knees in front of Stiles. Stiles quickly tucks himself away, and crouches down on shaky legs, wrapping a hand around the bit of Derek's cock that he can reach, and sets a truly punishing pace, Derek's hand falling away as his face goes slack. It's no time at all before Stiles is kissing him through his orgasm, and keeping his eyes firmly on Derek's as he pulls back to lick his come off his hand. Derek is breathing hard, and Stiles kisses him gently, and they can both taste themselves on each other's tongue.

"Well, we suck at normal people stuff." Stiles says cheerfully. They've hooked up like that before , at Derek's, and Scott has never noticed, no one has really, and they kiss and hang out without sex, but it hasn't been that much of a frenzy before. Apparently they miss each other. Stiles buries the urge to start referring to them as supernatural boyfriends.

And well, it has been a week since they've seen each other like this, alone.

"You aren't allowed to leave me alone like that." Stiles decides. "Come see me, next time." A moment passes. "I missed you." He says quietly.

"Yeah." Derek replies, and tugs him into a quick kiss. "Me too." Stiles can hear Scott getting out of his car, and they both shoot upright on wobbly legs, smoothing hair and clothes frantically. Derek buttons his shirt as fast as humanely possible.

"Hey guys." Scott greets them amicably. "You ready?"

"Sure thing, Scotty." Stiles prays in his head for a second that Scott won't notice anything.

"Why is Derek out of breath?" Fuck.

"Push ups." Stiles fires off quickly. Scott frowns.

"Got bored with waiting." Derek says gruffly.

"Oh, okay." Scott accepts it with minimal fuss, and turns away, catching sight of Stiles' stubble burn as he goes. "Stiles, your neck is kind of red, are you okay?" Stiles freezes.

"Er, yeah, I think I'm allergic to my new shaving cream." He's good at bullshitting now. That was a good excuse, right? Better than 'push ups', anyway.

"Aw dude, that sucks." Scott turns away, and Derek makes a face, presumably at how spectacularly unobservant Scott is.

How does he not smell it? They stink of each other. Stiles makes an incredulous face at Derek, who appears to be...smothering a laugh. Aw. He made his boyfriend laugh. Except Derek is gesturing down with his eyes, looking at Stiles' crotch and...oh. His fly is down. And now that he's looking, Derek's shirt isn't buttoned right.

That's surprisingly adorable.

He makes sure to tell Derek how adorable he is when they go back Stiles' house later. Multiple times. In many different positions.

Loudly.

Thank God his dad isn't home.