Chapter 10:

"Ok, so take this off—"

"I can't while you're—"

"Not like that. All the way off—"

"HEY…! Ok, alright, hold your horses—"

"Good, like that."

"Ow—what's—"

"Keys."

Stiles picked his keychain up from the mattress, where it must've fallen before; he leaned carefully over to the bedside table to place it there, then remained on his knees, regarding Derek like he was trying mentally to plan how they ought to be positioned.

"Scoot a bit this way," he said, rubbing his mouth, motioning with one hand.

"Like this?"

"Yeah, that's good."

He moved back between Derek's knees, bent part of the way forth, met his gaze; they both laughed. Stiles pointed one finger and said, "Shut. Up."

Derek lifted both hands as a peace offering, I haven't said anything.

Stiles hesitated; looked up, smiled, glanced back down; got his hand on his dick tentatively. Derek regarded him childlike, remembering not to say anything. Stiles' fingers moved along the smooth surface with experimental curiosity, "Not so bad is it," he said softly, part to himself.

"Like this," Derek said, he got his hand on Stiles' and was starting to direct him, but Stiles looked up, unamused. "Don't tell me what to…" he tapped his hand away. "Like this. Right? Like this."

Derek smiled broadly, eyes shut, rapidly nodding, He gave him a thumbs-up. "Perfect."

Stiles laughed. "See. I know what to do."

He was embarrassed as soon as he said it; was it really something in which to take pride…?

There was shameless anticipation in Derek's eyes; he wanted him to do it. That was the thing about getting head, it was something you really never turned down. Like you'd put off worrying about the fact that it was a dude until later.

He sighed with tremendous relief when finally Stiles got it in his mouth, he whispered, thank you, his reaction was curiously flattering. "I owe you, don't I," Stiles said when he took it back out, "I stopped last time."

"It's alright," Derek said, impatient to have him go back to it. They both went quiet after that, Derek didn't wish to say anything that might make him stop; they still glimpsed at one another shyly from time to time, Stiles aware of being watched, Derek smiled and silently mouthed, go on.

Stiles found that his lips hurt. His hand had got tired from stroking him all the while, it became repetitive after some time and he just wished he would cum already. He wondered if this was what women went through when they did this, and realized with a bout of exasperation now he's have to feel bad about that.

No, that wasn't right. Surely there was some appeal to it, at least at first, before it because so mind-numbingly repetitive? Surely he wasn't meant to appear like he was tired? On glancing up, he was that Derek didn't seem to mind; he was having a great time, it appeared, it made him smile.

It occurred to him he'd become more bothered by the fact that it was dull than by actually giving head to another guy; curiously enough, that didn't really bother him anymore. I shouldn't feel this way, he was really nice to me. He didn't complain, until that last part.

Inevitably he began feeling that bout of terror, as well: even after all the talk about liking it, not that it approached he found himself dreading the inevitable conclusion, but was determined to be a good sport about it. But Derek said it was awful, he really wasn't looking forward to that.

No. He was going to be cool about this. He was going to make him fucking love it and tell him how good he was after, and Stiles would triumph by giving the impeccable impression that it wasn't bad at all – no matter how vile it actually tasted.

He wondered if it was taking so long because he was a guy, and it was turn off; so like Stiles to think he could possibly be a turn off to anyone.

No, here was no room for discouragement, he kept going long after his lips had got raw and inflamed and his jaw hurt from being open so long; he was so vastly relieved when Derek finally came he was much less horrified than he'd expect. It was very liquid and hot and quite bitter, but he didn't pull out; he sucked him completely dry like he were making a point, then he crawled toward him and motioned come here with one hand.

Derek was lain merrily on his back, eyes closed, still catching his breath, he was patting Stiles weakly on the arm for a job well done. When he opened his eyes, he smiled and probably meant to give him some sort of praise when he saw Stiles move closer to kiss him. He tilted his head up to return the kiss, blissfully unaware of what was to follow; Stiles got both hands on his cheeks and kissed him hard, the fluid glittering hot between them, streaming in slick rivulets down their chins.

"Eugh…" Derek immediately moved away, reaching to wipe his mouth and staring like he'd been horribly deceived.

Stiles was having a field day, this was good. This was, hands down, the best expression he'd ever seen Derek make, he remained where he was with one finger pointed, laughing so hard he'd nearly got tears in his eyes.

Derek was laughing too, still wiping his tongue, muttering swears like they formed complete sentences.

"That's disgusting," he said, "why would you do that?!"

Stiles, who was really just glad he'd got him to finish, was determined to make it seem like it wasn't bad at all. He composed himself into the most elegant and thoughtful expression and said without breaking character, "It was so good I wanted to share."

"Very thoughtful," Derek said, "you wanted to share," he tackled him and pulled him close, wiping at the fluid still streaming down the corner of his mouth with one finger, then deliberately got it in past Stiles' lips; they were play fighting now. They were laughing and struggling for dominance, Stiles with his eyes tightly shut and hands uselessly batting, "Thought you'd appreciate it! You mean you don't like it?!"

"Quite a surprise, isn't it," Derek laughed, "I should've known."

"You gonna tell Kate on me?"

"You'd better believe I'm gonna tell here, you little fucker!"

Stiles was fully enjoying his reaction; it was orders of magnitude better than he'd expected. "Careful, she might get ideas."

"You're both plotting against me!"

"We'll like a dynamic duo."

"That figures—,"

"We're gonna get matching costumes."

"You got the colors picked out and everything?"

"Had a little disagreement, she wanted green, I said green always looks stupid—"

"It does, doesn't it?"

Stiles had long since given up the fight; he was lain willingly on his back beneath Derek, and whatever response he might have had never came. When they kissed it came completely natural, he laughed with simple affection when Derek had at his neck, it tickled.

"Move, you're heavy," he said, smiling wide like meant let's never go to sleep.