I do not own Teen Wolf or any of its characters.
Warning: This story is nothing but gratuitous smut with no plot and some humor.
Some like surprises.
When he had told Derek to surprise him, he hadn't had this in mind.
But hey, everyone loves some spontaneity.
Even when said spontaneity leads to you being dry humped into the school bleachers by your werewolf boyfriend before a lacrosse game.
"God, the structural beams under here…" Stiles sighs as he presses his lips into Derek's. "You could pull my leg up and put it over the one by my arm, or turn me around and make me grab the one above my head while you slam into me."
Stiles's smirks into Derek's lips when he growls, pressing forward into his open legs.
"Imagine all the possibilities."Stiles hisses into his lover's lips, smirking when Derek turns his red tinted gaze towards him, looking positively feral.
Nipping at Derek's lower lip, Stiles tilts his head back and looks directly into his lover's eyes.
"Think of all the positions."
It's perfect the way he anticipates Derek's actions, tilting his head back and baring his neck as Derek surges forward and begins to bite at his throat as he hicks Stiles up on his hips and grinds their erections together.
Ah yeah…
He's ready to get to more than grinding when he hears the sudden clearing of a throat.
Stiles screams and whips his head back, banging it into one of the metal poles behind him.
Damn it. Shit. Fuck. Fuckkkk…
Hissing and pressing his hand into his injured head, Stiles turns his gaze to see Coach Finstock standing with his clipboard in hand, his face bright red.
"Uhhh…" Stiles gaps as Derek slowly lets him down, pulling him slightly behind him.
Coach Finstock looks just as uncomfortable, or maybe more so.
He's shifting from one foot to the other, struggling to find something to say.
Coach can't even look at them when he speaks.
"So, it would be easier on me if y'all just left. I don't want to have to write a report on this. That would be awkward- really awkward for all of us." He mumbles. "So, yeah, umm, just leave."
He shifts awkwardly in his spot.
"Except for you Bolinski. I mean, we have a game in two hours. So yeah…" He stutters. "You know what, you can just leave. Come to the game if you want. Or not. Yeah."
Pulling his clipboard to his face, Finstock turns away, walking stiffly back to the field, even the back of his neck bright red.
Frowning at Derek, Stiles hits him in the back of the head.
"What the hell?" He hisses, "How did you not hear him?"
Derek growls at him.
"I was a bit distracted." He grits out between his teeth.
Stiles smirks at his lover.
"Distracted, eh? Who knew my ass so positively hypnotizing. We should sell it to the army and make some money. A hypnotic ass. Send all the enemy into a daze with its awesome power of lust."
Derek looks back at him, clearly not amused.
Patting his lover's cheek, Stiles sighs.
"We really must work on your humor, lover o' mine."
Comments: This was inspired by Stiles's "good times, many many times; several times in a row; in several different positions!" speech. Truly an inspiring speech.
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