The movie ended up starring Chris Evans, because the Universe was still making Stiles its bitch. Not that he even really paid attention to the movie. No, he spent the two hours and six minutes—not including twenty minutes of ads and trailers and the ten minute wait for those to even start—flashing back to jokes over Stiles being Jensen and pre-serum Steve Rogers and thinking about how seeing Derek's post-shower shirtlessness was the same as seeing post-serum Steve for the first time when he came out of Erskine's machine.
Was he seriously gonna talk to Derek? Was he seriously operating on the hope that a Greek god like Derek would wanna be with a loser like him? The guy was Captain America for fuck's sakes, while he was pretty much Jensen. Only the character's attempts at flirting—namely telling one woman "nice dress" and asking a couple others if they liked "the angle of the dangle" while standing in nothing but his briefs—were much smoother than anything Stiles could come up with. They were both awkward as hell though, both goofy and sarcastic and lusted after people way outta their league. Really, all Stiles needed was a gun, some wire-rimmed glasses, some cool gadgets, a pink "Go Petunias" tee, and a dye job and he'd be Jensen.
Solved the issue of what he was gonna be for Halloween.
Didn't help when it came to Derek though. Smart, kind, genuinely good, achingly hot, stupidly handsome, unfairly strong Derek who was one star spangled suit away from being Captain America, with his chiseled jaw and his muscular frame and his glorious ass.
Even in some parallel universe where Jensen and Steve both existed and weren't both played by Chris Evans, the two of them would never hook-up or work out. Just like Stiles and Derek. Really, the Omega stood as much chance of being with the Alpha as he did being with Chris Evans himself.
Still. There was a chance. And he was gonna have to take it, or risk the wrath of both Malia and Erica, the former of whom would probably rope Lydia into it and then Kira would get involved with her big, pleading eyes and then Allison would join in with her logic and romantic heart and he stood no chance against any of them, regardless of their orientation or his.
Plus, he had to admit, getting some answers would be nice. And maybe talking it out would bring him some sorta closure that would allow him to eventually move on and stay outta bed for longer than the time required to watch a movie about a perpetually moving train in a post-apocalyptic world.
Which he should probably watch online later, 'cause that did sound awesome and the only thing he could remember from the film was Chris Evans' beard and Tilda Swinton dressed as a man. Again.
Movie all done and credits all rolled, their group mingled in the parking lot, debating where to go to eat. Stiles opened his mouth to offer a suggestion, more than willing to join them for dinner if it meant delaying his upcoming convo with a certain Alpha, only for Malia to cut him off.
"Stiles can't join us; he has to go talk to Derek."
Well, shit.
Scott arched an eyebrow but said nothing, arm around Allison's shoulder as she beamed at Stiles with a dimpled Disney princess smile. He got caught up in a mental debate over whether she'd be Belle, Snow White, or Merida—given her badassness with a bow and arrow—when he felt himself being shoved from behind.
"Go!" his sister commanded as she pushed him in the direction of his Jeep.
"Can't," he argued, digging his heels in uselessly, still being forced towards his car. "I gotta drive you and Kira home."
"I can give 'em a ride," Allison volunteered, sharing a conspiring smirk with her mate, dark eyes sparkling with the same devious light she'd seen Erica wear.
Et tu, Alli?
Stiles opened his mouth to argue, only to be shoved into his driver's side door, face first.
"Go!" Malia repeated, the word more of a growl this time. "Or I swear I will use your Star Wars DVDs to sharpen my claws."
His eyes widened, hands scrambling to his jeans pocket to get his keys out. Because he knew for a fact that she was dead serious and it wouldn't be the first time she'd ruined his movies. She was evil like that.
Keys out, he struggled to get them into the lock then himself into the Jeep, movements frantic and hurried. Not that he was in a rush to face the humiliation of an inevitable rejection, but because he was panicking over his sister following through on her threat. He was too broke at the moment to replace those movies. Just paying for the one he'd recently sat through had stretched his budget tight.
Door shut, he started the engine, noting his sister's glare out the side window and her wordless warning as she pointed to her glowing red eyes then his normal whiskey one's, the implication that she was watching him read loud and clear. He saluted her before reversing out the space, waving to his friends and pretending like he wasn't driving off to his own execution.
No, not his own death really, just that of his hopes and dreams and heart. Couldn't be that much more painful than what he'd been suffering through over the past week though.
Then again, the Universe was still conspiring against him and would more than likely love the chance to prove him wrong, especially if it made him hurt.
He was so fucked.
The drive to Derek's took longer than Erica had told him it would, solely because Stiles had made a pit stop along the way. Part of him justified it as getting an ice breaker and a conversation starter, but he knew he was just using it as an excuse to stall even more.
The steps up to the apartment seemed bigger, more difficult to ascend, like he was climbing Mount Everest rather than heading up some stairs. His stomach was flipping and churning and rolling, heart pounding wildly within his chest, hands clammy as they held onto his purchases with a death grip, afraid that if he dropped them, he'd drop his chance to talk to Derek. Ridiculous, he knew, but his mind was spinning, buzzing, whirring, a thousand thoughts about how this whole thing could go so terribly wrong swirling in his brain and he was scared. Terrified really. It was worse than when he'd showed up to ask if Derek would service him in his heat because back then, he'd had the excuse of the whole thing being a simple solution for his anxiety over that week, that he was asking solely because Derek was an Alpha he knew and trusted. Now he didn't have that fallback. Now he was fully admitting to feelings he'd had for years and risking his heart, not just his virginity. Things were gonna be awkward enough at holidays after heat sex; it would be five hundred times worse after a love confession and a rejection, no matter how gently it would come.
Taking a deep breath, he steeled his nerves and knocked on the door, grateful as hell that there was only one heartbeat on the other side and no Frozen playing. This convo was gonna be hard enough with just the two of them; he didn't need an audience.
The door opened, revealing a tired, disheveled Derek in ratty, torn jeans and an old faded tee whose graphic was barely decipherable but Stiles thought he maybe saw pieces of Vaders' helmet on the black cotton. His hair was unstyled, mussed up, like he hadn't bothered doing anything with it except run his hands through it a lot, leaving it mostly how it'd been since he woke up. Not that he appeared to have slept all that much since the Omega left, bags under his eyes having worsened, standing out against pale skin and dull irises.
Stiles swallowed hard, heart wrenching at the image of an unkempt Alpha. He had to tamp down the urge to tuck him into bed and make him sleep, to caretake until he was back to his previous happier, tidier self. His coyote was whimpering and wondering exactly why it was that they couldn't do that, his Omega instincts screaming at him. But his guilt over knowing he was partially responsible for Derek's current state drowned it all out and made him stay put. After all, no one would wanna be caretaken by the person who'd caused their upset in the first place.
Derek's eyes widened at the sight of the teenager on the other side of the threshold, the lids almost immediately falling down to their previous drooping position, like they were just too damn tired to fight gravity and stay up. "Stiles," he said flatly, if not a little gruff, voice rougher than usual. "What're you doing here?"
The Omega forced a small grin on his face as he lifted up the two stacked boxes he held, a cinnamon roll inside each one, wrapped forks and napkins precariously seated on top. "Pretty sure you still owe me a Cinnabon, so I figured I'd pick 'em up," he explained, sounding more light-hearted than he felt as he wiggled the boxes then lowered them, face falling as he took in the weariness written all over the other man who was leaning against the doorframe. "Unless you're not feeling up to it, in which case I can just leave yours with you and come back some other time."
That had the Alpha perking up, pushing himself into a straighter position. "Yeah, no, I'm fine, I'm up to it," he answered quickly before moving aside. "Come on in."
Stiles flashed him a small, uneven smile as he stepped into the apartment, toeing his sneakers off before scuffing over so he was at the edge of the living room area. The door was closed, Derek shuffling over and taking the box the Omega offered him, not pausing until he was by the coffee table.
"Oh, this is for you, too," he added on, holding out a business card he'd picked up from Cinnabon and had torn into a V shape.
The Alpha cocked an eyebrow as he took that, too, flipping it over and inspecting both sides of it. "Seriously?" he snorted.
"Yep," the teenager replied with a smirk. "Signed my birth name and everything to make it even more official that you took my V-card." Smugness rolled off him in waves, feeling pretty damn proud that he was able to actually put that mess of letters in the right order. Granted he'd had to double-check on his driver's license, but he'd been able to spell it correctly all on his own. Which was quite an accomplishment, since his dad couldn't even do that and he'd been the one to agree to that being his son's name.
Pat on the back for the younger Stilinski on that one.
Derek nodded slowly to himself, putting the box and the card on the coffee table. "Why are you really here?" he asked gruffly, turning to face the Omega, folding his arms over his chest as his eyes narrowed in skepticism.
A nervous smile appeared on Stiles' face, barely staying, a lump forming in his throat. He swallowed hard, feigning lightheartedness, as he spoke in a easy-going tone that didn't match how he was feeling. "I already told you," he responded, gesturing to him with his own cinnamon roll box.
"No," the older man argued, face hard, muscles tense, lips tight. "I know you, and the cinnamon rolls are an excuse and a cover for your true intentions."
Shit. Busted.
But he didn't show that his food purchases were a ruse, instead kept his features the same way they'd always been, his scent full of a fake contentment that masked his real emotions of being found out and the nerves that accompanied it.
"So tell me," Derek continued, still skeptical and disbelieving. "Why are you really here?"
Stiles shuffled in place, fingers drumming on the side of his box, mind whirring as he tried to figure out how to tell Derek the truth, that he came over to tell Derek that he's actually in love with him and that it wasn't just heat sex. Not that he would fully know since he'd never had any sex before that, but he was pretty sure anyway.
And it was with that thought in mind that he blurted out "We should have sex."
Yeah, most definitely wasn't what he came over wanting to say, but it was out there and he had no fucking clue how to take it back without seeming totally nuts. Or at least any more nuts that he already seemed.
The Alpha stared at him flatly for several long moments, ratcheting up his anxiety with every passing second. His scent betrayed nothing, his face expressionless, and there was absolutely no way to tell what was going on in his mind until he spoke.
"What?"
It was the perfect opportunity to say "haha, just kidding" or "only messing with ya, dude, just wanted to see your reaction". But no. Because Stiles was an idiot like his dad had said and he kept going with the ridiculousness that had made its way out his mouth before his mind could catch up.
"Yeah, well, ya know," he stammered, choking a laugh out to go along with his fake lightheartedness. "You said yourself that I don't have any experience to compare heat sex with and sleeping with some other random Alpha wouldn't exactly be a fair comparison 'cause he might suck or something, so in order to get the most accurate data for the best result, you and I need to have non-heat sex sex." He nodded, affirmative pout on his face, scent one-hundred percent confident in the bullshit that had just spilled past his lips. But internally, he was berating himself over yet another beyond ridiculous ramble over a half-assed idea.
Really he should just not be allowed to talk. Ever. About anything.
Derek's face was as flat as his tone as he spoke, eyes still narrowed analytically. "You wanna have sex with me as an experiment?"
The Omega winced. When it was put that way, it seemed even more out there than he'd originally thought. "More or less, I guess so, yeah," he muttered, rubbing at the back of his head.
Silence descended over them once again, the older man nodding repeatedly as he took it all in before finally letting out a "No."
Stiles' jaw dropped, mouth hanging open in surprise. The response was to be expected really, a sign that Derek wasn't as into him as he'd been lead to believe. But part of him was still shocked by his request being denied, having figured he'd get a "yes" if for no other reason than Alpha instincts. Yet he'd been wrong. That particular Alpha was refusing to give him what he asked.
Wow.
"No?" he double-checked, disbelief coloring his words.
"No," Derek repeated, just as hard and cold as before. He huffed out a disbelieving laugh, more at himself than at Stiles, shaking his head as he turned it to his right, eyes fixated on the Star Wars poster above the couch. "See, I knew servicing you in your heat would be a bad idea and would most likely blow up in my face, but I figured 'what the fuck? Why not?' Maybe it'd help me get over you and get it out of my system, to just act out my fantasies and be done with it." He shrugged, turning his head to the Omega and leveling hard green eyes on him. "And I knew that it would be just heat sex for you and that it wouldn't mean anything and that chances were I'd end up hurt and heartbroken, but at least I would've been with you for a little while and that would be enough for me."
Stiles couldn't believe what he was hearing, was stunned silent and frozen, hardly able to breathe. Because it sounded like a love confession, like the Alpha was telling him that he had feelings for the younger man and there was just no possible way that was happening. At all. Ever.
The older man swallowed hard, licking his lips before he continued. "But sleeping with you again is just too much and there's no way my heart or my wolf can handle watching you leave again after I've been like you with like that, not after I've claimed you and marked you and filled you, and especially not when it's outside of the needs of your heat. I just—" He shook his head, huff leaving him as he struggled to finish his sentence. "I can't do it, Stiles. I'm sorry." His voice got weaker towards the end, until his apology was little more than a whisper, the word cracked and broken. His eyes were shinier than before, lower lip trembling and if Stiles looked close enough, he could see a slight tremor racing through the Alpha's muscles.
His coyote was howling loudly in his head, jumping about with its tail wagging wildly. Yeah, his request had been rejected, but for a reason he hadn't been expecting: because Derek wanted more than just sex with him and wouldn't be able to handle being used like that. Because that's what it seemed like Stiles was doing, just using him for a lay, making him almost as bad as Kate or Jennifer. Shit, to think that the entire week of his heat, Derek had operated under the belief that Stiles was just using him because he was convenient, just an available Alpha with a knot who could sate his Omega needs. And he'd let himself be used, because he wanted to be with Stiles, even if it was all fake and just heat sex. He'd been pretending it was real but knowing it wasn't, just like Stiles had been.
Fucking hell, they really were both idiots.
"You," Stiles began, pointing at the Alpha with a shaky hand. "You want me?"
Teeth sank into his bottom lip, the older man nodding as he ducked his head. His eyes were turned down at the corners, scent ashamed and apologetic, shoulders hunched in on himself. "Since you were fifteen and I accidentally walked in on you masturbating. Again," he muttered, rubbing at the back of his neck awkwardly. "Although it was the first time I'd caught you fingering yourself and. And it just did something to me." He raised his head then, sad remorseful eyes meeting Stiles' confused ones. "My wolf went nuts, started snarling at me to get in there and lend you a hand, pissed that someone else was using his hole, even if it was just you."
Holy. Shit.
The Omega felt his face heat up in embarrassment at the memory, knowing he was getting splotchy all over as he blushed. He shoved aside the emotion, focusing on the reason behind bringing up such a humiliating moment in his life. Three years. Three years since that had happened, since Derek had realized he wanted Stiles in such a manner and he'd kept quiet the entire time. All he could think about was the lost opportunity, the missing moments they could've had together. He would've been there for Derek after all that bullshit with Kate, would've prevented his need for dating Jennifer or sleeping with Braeden. They could've gone to Stiles' prom together, could've spent his eighteenth birthday having sex—if they hadn't been fucking already—and he could've lost his virginity outside of heat. They could've been celebrating an anniversary together sometime soon, been chatting about their Mating Ceremony, been making plans for Stiles' heading to Stanford in a couple months. So much could've been happening between them, yet they'd both prevented it because they'd both been idiots and kept shit to themselves.
At least Stiles had his reasons why. Derek's motives were a little hard to comprehend.
"Why didn't you tell me?" he asked lowly, cautiously, almost afraid of the answer.
Derek snorted, rolled his eyes, the embarrassment in his scent becoming more potent. "You were my kid brother's best friend and I was the annoying babysitter who used to throw balls at your heads and call it lacrosse practice," he said in a self-deprecating manner. Fucking hell, the guy truly believed that he was seen solely as the obnoxious older brother of his best bud, as the asshole babysitter who acted as a killjoy and ratted out their schemes before they were even fully thought out—not that they were ever fully thought out but whatever.
"And our families spend holidays together," the Alpha continued, arms no longer folded over his chest in a defensive manner but wrapped around his torso as though holding him together, fingers clutching at the sides of his tee. "If you rejected me and didn't return my feelings, there was no way I'd be able to look at you again."
"I wouldn't have rejected you." Stiles found himself speaking without thinking again, but at least that time it was logical and what he actually wanted to say.
It was the older man's turned to look stunned, mouth gaping as he let out a slightly choking noise. "What?"
The Omega pressed his lips together, knowing it was now or never, that it was the most absolutely perfect opportunity for him to say how he felt and that he'd never get a chance like that ever again. If he didn't take it, then he'd regret it forever as he spent his life in his comforter burrito cocoon. Because Derek was it for him, he knew that now without a shadow of a doubt. There wouldn't be any moving on, wouldn't be any hope of finding his "actual" mate, wouldn't even be any fucking cats—thank god—it was Derek or nothing.
"Der," he began, hating how weak his voice sounded, hated how lame he was being. How scared. And there was nothing to be afraid of anymore, no need to worry over rejection. Because Derek wanted him, too. He just needed to put it out there that the Alpha's feelings were returned. Small grin on his face, he finally located his balls and just went for it. "I've had a stupidly big crush on you for years. All those times you walked in on me jacking off? I was thinking of you touching me, your fingers in me."
Green eyes flashed red, the wolf letting out a rumble of a "yeah?"
"Yeah," he breathed out, cock twitching and passage dampening at the peek of the other man's more animalistic side. "And the real reason why I asked you to service me in my heat was because I thought it'd be the only chance I'd ever have to be with you, like, ever."
Derek muttered out a swear, hand shoved through his hair as he let out a disbelieving laugh. "We're a couple of dumbasses, huh?"
Stiles chuckled in response, thinking of how his dad had said something similar to him. "Yeah, well, I guess it's just another sign that we really are mates."
The older man's eyes flashed red again, tongue darting out to wet his lips before a feral grin formed on his face. "Well, my mate better put down the Cinnabon if he wants to enjoy it later. Otherwise I'm gonna smash it when I claim him."
A groan hit his ears and it took him a moment to realize he'd made the noise, too caught up in the mental image of Derek snatching him up and carrying him to the bedroom to fuck him. Blood rushed to his cock, more slick dampening his passage and he barely managed to make it to the coffee table to put his box on top of Derek's.
"By the way, there's something I was dying to do during your heat that I never got the chance to," the Alpha rumbled, stepping close.
Stiles felt the werewolf's body heat all along his side as he straightened up, his coyote practically purring at the close proximity. That delicious cinnamon scent hit him, laced with arousal and desire, making his head go fuzzy yet clear at the same time. "What's that?" he breathed out, eyes focused on pink lips framed with black whiskers.
"This." Without any further warning, the older man cupped his face and brought their lips together.
The gasp he let out was muffled against another set of lips and it took him only a second to get over the shock of "holyshitDerekisactuallykissingme" before he started kissing back. His hands clutched at the Alpha's sides, fingers tangling in his tee, stepping even closer until their bodies were pressed together from hip to chest. Their lips moved in a manner that betrayed their lack of ever doing that before, motions perfectly in synch as they collided over and over again. His bottom one was sucked on, tugged, lapped at, making his skin tingle all over and his heart pound in his chest.
He had no idea how long they stood there making out, how long they spent learning the curves of one another's mouths and the motions of their lips before Derek's tongue grew more insistent, no longer teasing kitten licks but a hard press, trying to find a way in. Stiles parted his lips on a gasp, the other man's tongue slipping inside and colliding with his own, starting a push/pull tangle of dominance that he wasn't about to fucking lose, Omega or not. He moved impossibly closer, arms wrapping around his waist, his own hands sliding up a toned back and cupping his shoulder blades, fingers digging into his shirt there.
Derek set about exploring his mouth, memorizing every nook and cranny, paying extra attention to any and all spots that had Stiles shivering in pleasure. He could feel himself harden in his boxers, his slick making his passage nice and wet, and he delighted in the smell of the Alpha's answering arousal he scented with every inhale.
Eventually the older man pulled his lips away with a final chaste kiss, then another, his head lowering to the crook of the Omega's neck. An arm tightened even more around his waist, a hand drifting down to cup his ass and tug him closer, their hips colliding. He silently thanked whoever was responsible for the two of them being the same height, allowing him to feel a prominent bulge against his own, pelvis bucking on its own.
"Smell so good," the Alpha groaned, nuzzling into his neck and making his cock twitch further.
Stiles groaned at the feel of stubble against his neck, the whiskers creating that pain/pleasure sensation on his sensitive skin, making his lips hang open while his breathing became shakier. He felt the drag of a lower lip along the side of his neck, felt the skin behind his ear being sucked on until it bruised, felt teeth sink into his pulse point. Derek was marking him all over his neck, hickeys and bite marks that let everyone and anyone know what they'd been up to and that Stiles was claimed. The thought of it had his dick plumping up faster, slick trickling past his rim as it stretched on its own, hole opening up for his Alpha.
His hips bucked forward again and this time there was an answering grind. Their pelvises began moving in rhythm, creating a friction that had his cock aching and his body burning. He felt his hole gaping, fluttering, wanting to draw something inside and he needed Derek naked, like, yesterday.
"Why are there clothes?" he muttered, hands scrambling at the hem of the other man's tee and dragging it up his back.
Derek straightened up, keeping contact at their hips, yanking his shirt over his head and tossing it away. Which was just all kinds of awesome because now he was closer to naked and he was shirtless and...wow.
The Omega's whiskey eyes widened and he was sure they flashed gold as he groaned at the sight before him. His heat fuzzed mind hadn't allowed him to get a really good look at Derek's chiseled torso and he mentally cursed himself for spending the past week in bed moping when he could've just told the guy how he felt and spent those days staring at this instead. Because there would be staring. A lot of staring. And touching, oh god, the touching.
His fingers roamed flat pecs and ridged abdominals, feeling the hard muscles underneath. The skin below his fingertips jumped and twitched at his grazes, the older man's chest heaving as he breathed heavier, shakier. Lowering his head, Stiles kissed the tan flesh he'd just discovered, dragged his blunt teeth over the other man's collarbone. He lightly grazed his claws up the Alpha's sides, felt the ridges of his obliques, his tongue bisected his pecs before his lips latched onto a nipple and sucked. Derek gasped then groaned, his head tilting back, fingers sliding into tawny hair. Stiles took it as permission and flicked his tongue over the hardening nub, claws grazing over the V that separated his hips from his torso. He switched over to the other nipple, nipped at it, lapped it better, moved on to other parts of his skin. He ran his tongue along the lines that separated his multi-pack—because that was more than a lame ol' six-pack and Stiles definitely didn't have the time or patience to count the muscles at that point—sucked at individual muscles, left a few hickeys and bruises of his own all over the Alpha's torso.
His Alpha's torso.
And Derek let it all happen.
For a while anyway.
All too soon, Stiles felt his hair being pulled as his head was tugged away from where he'd been leaving another mark on Derek's pec, right over his heart. He met eyes with blown pupils, that green-gold swirl he loved so much reduced to a tiny ring around black. Lips had been kissed red and swollen, parted as he struggled to swallow air, and his cheeks were flushed above black whiskers.
An aroused Derek was a very, very, very sexy Derek. And it was all because of Stiles.
"Need you," he breathed out, fingers still tangled in short brown locks, his shirtless chest colliding with the younger man's cotton covered one.
"You have me," Stiles whispered back, meaning every syllable. Because Derek did have him, in every sense of the word, and there was no changing that, not now that Stiles knew his feelings were returned and that the two of them really were mates and really were meant to be.
Derek's eyes turned red and stayed that way, hands moving to the back of Stiles' thighs and lifting him up. The Omega automatically wrapped his legs around the other man's waist, arms draped over his shoulders, grinning widely at his earlier fantasy coming to life and at the fact that his big strong Alpha was carrying him—and not like a fucking princess this time. The older man took one step towards the bedroom before the teenager yelled at him to wait, arm flying out to the side.
"What?"
"Cinnabons!"
Thick brows knitted in confusion, red leaking out of his eyes as Derek looked at him like he was nuts. "What?"
"I wanna eat 'em while you knot me," Stiles proclaimed, grin growing at the growl he got in response. "I know, right? Best plan ever!"
The boxes were snatched up before they finally made their way to the bedroom, Derek moving with an ease and grace that spoke highly of his orientation. Stiles simply clung on to him, nuzzling into his neck and inhaling his scent. His cock rubbed against a ripped stomach with every step, causing him to need to sink his teeth into his own bottom lip to prevent any whimpers from leaving him. Cinnabons now on the nightstand, he was laid down on the bed, hands around the back of the other man's neck to haul him down on top. Derek went willingly, their lips reattaching, their make-out session resumed where they'd left off.
It was a world of difference from when Stiles was in heat, when he'd go from zero to fuck me now! in about zero-point-two seconds. This time he could feel the slow burn of his arousal gradually building, was able to enjoy his body getting ready rather than waking up and having it beat him to the punch. He could enjoy feeling the other man's body pressing him down onto the mattress, could roam his hands over him and learn his body, learn the right places to rub and touch and caress, while learning what got himself going, too. He could get lost in the sensations of lips moving against his, of hips grinding down and creating a sweet friction in his boxers, of a hand sliding under his shirt before finally tugging it off and tossing it aside. His pleasure was a steadily increasing thing rather than a bullet train and he learned to enjoy the ride as his body shivered under the Alpha's ministrations.
Bare skin pressed against bare skin and Stiles felt his flesh burn where it touched the other man's. He pulled away from his lips when his lungs began to burn from oxygen deprivation, when his body felt like it was on fire and about to incinerate from everything. Derek nuzzled his nose against Stiles', rubbed his cheek into the crook of his neck, scent-marking him. Hell, his entire body was trying to do that, writhing against the Omega, skin rubbing and mingling their scents, letting the world know exactly who they'd be answering to if they touched Stiles in any way.
His coyote howled at the knowledge, the human part of him moaning, back arching to join in, to put his own scent on Derek, to make sure that cinnamon smell had a hint of vanilla icing with it at all times. To make sure everyone knew he was Stiles'.
The werewolf moved down his body, sucking more marks into his torso, rubbing his cheek to scent-mark him there. His whiskers scratched against the Omega's skin, the rasp barely heard over his panting, his pounding heart, his bit off whimpers. A tongue bisected his abdomen, blunt teeth nipped at his belly button, human nails scratched down his sides. His hips bucked to show the other male exactly where he was supposed to go, where to put those lips that were currently running along the top of his khakis.
"Der," he whined, teeth sinking into his bottom lip, eyes half lidded as he stared at the stunning male between his legs.
The Alpha smirked, fingers deftly undoing the button, slowly dragging down the zipper and pressing against his cock teasingly. Stiles muttered out a few choice insults, the older man laughing against his belly, tickling the hairs of his happy trail. But Derek gave in, slid off his khakis and his socks then got comfy laying between the Omega's legs. He nosed at his crotch, nuzzled into the hard bulge, inhaled deeply then exhaled with a groan.
"Smell so good," he moaned, panting against the wet spot that had formed at the front of the younger man's boxers.
Stiles slid his fingers into black locks, hips rising insistently. His cock was throbbing painfully, hole aching and gaping, slick soaking into his boxers and he had no idea it was possible to feel that desperate without being in heat. Granted it wasn't as bad. He didn't feel like he'd die or combust if he didn't get the other man inside him right that second, but he was still beyond needy.
"Der, please," he pleaded, the older man nodding and hooking his fingers under the waistband of the boxers. He didn't tease or take his time—thank god—simply slid them off and tossed them aside.
Leaving Stiles totally naked.
Oh god!
He tried squeezing his legs together as much as he could with broad shoulders blocking his way, hands moving to cover his crotch, and he felt his face heat up in embarrassment and self-consciousness. Only Derek wasn't having any of that. He growled in agitation, hands clamping on the inside of the Omega's thighs before shoving his legs into position, knees bent, feet flat on the bed. He nipped at Stiles' hands with fanged teeth, the teenager taking the hint and moving them. Cold air hit his hole, the rim fluttering, trying to pull something in as it sat there open and exposed.
A pleased rumble left the Alpha, almost like a purr. His tongue darted out to lick his lips, pupil blown eyes looking their fill, the green slowly turning red. "God, you're beautiful," he breathed out, sounding completely in awe.
Stiles fought off his own purr, chest puffing up in pride, coyote wagging its tail happily at the knowledge that they pleased their Alpha. A tongue dragged up the underside of his cock, teasing the vein, making him gasp then swear as it flicked into his slit.
"Holy fuck!"
"Missed your taste," the older man rumbled, swirling his tongue around the head and lapping up the precome that had spilled out already.
The Omega groaned, fingers tangling into the sheets on either side of his body, whines leaving his throat. He fought to keep his hips still as his cock was licked all over, being completely covered by the werewolf's saliva, turning him into a quivering mess.
"There's something else I wanted to do during your heat but didn't," Derek confessed lowly, hands slowly sliding to the backs of Stiles' knees.
He swallowed hard, fingers clenching and releasing the sheets, licking his lips as he looked down at the older man. "What?"
Without preamble, without ceremony, without lead-up, the Alpha shoved his legs back and folded him in half, then kissed his hole.
"Fuck!"
Derek licked a stripe over it, gave it a quick suck, causing Stiles to let out a sound that could only be described as a mewl. A manly mewl. Because he was a man, dammit. Just because he was an Omega...
Another lick over his rim, tongue barely dipping inside, and he mewled louder, not caring if it was manly or not.
"Oh god, you can definitely do that. You can do that all day. I am totally on board with you doing that whenever you feel like you wanna do that, which you should always wanna do that." He was rambling, self-consciousness gone, completely replaced by sparks of pleasure coursing through him thanks to the Alpha's talented tongue and its super amazing placement.
He could feel Derek smirking against his hole, his stubble scratching at the fleshy globes of his ass as he rubbed his cheeks on each one. He let out a whimper, slick increasing its flow, dick jerking against his lower abdomen.
"Shit, Der, please do it," he begged, half-lidded eyes trained downward and begging.
The Alpha growled lowly, latching his mouth around the teenager's hole and sucking hard, making him cry out. He licked around it, lapped at the rim, dipped the tip of his tongue inside on a tease before humming in pleasure. The younger man was panting, shaking, eyes closing in pleasure as he got lost in the sensations. Derek slipped his tongue inside him, licking around and groaning, lapping up the slick that was still flowing, that was increasing. Precome was steadily dripping out his cock and his rim was pulsing in need, entire body aching.
"Der," he moaned. "More. Please."
A finger easily slid inside him, stopping at the first knuckle before crooking, teasing him as it tugged at his rim and stretched it. Totally not what he wanted. At all.
He tried bucking his hips down to get more inside of him, to gain more friction, to be filled more completely. But the werewolf's grip on his legs prevented any movement, held him completely in place, making him groan in frustration. "God, you're an asshole," he complained, shuffling his hips about as much as possible. Which wasn't a whole lot really.
A chuckle gusted against his hole, making him shiver. "You are what you eat," Derek retorted, smirk practically audible, before kissing the teenager's hole.
Stiles let out a small laugh of his own, the sound cut off as a second finger slid inside, neither digit pausing until they were fully inside. A satisfied sigh left the Omega, eyes closing again, head tilting back. "Fuck yes," he breathed out, groaning as they rubbed against his inner-walls.
Derek continued to go slow with his motions, teasing as he scissored his fingers, teeth nipping at the inside of the younger man's thighs, the crease between them and his groin, lapping at his cock. Stiles was pleading, begging, moaning, groaning, the whole thing, alternating between niceties and insults, desperate to get more, to be filled the way only Derek could. And with something other than his fingers. But his every word went ignored as the Alpha moved at his own, slow as fucking hell pace.
Dick.
Finally, the Omega decided he'd had enough, reaching down behind himself and slipping one of his own fingers in and pulling at his rim to hurry things along.
"Holy shit, Stiles," Derek gasped out, his own hips jerking against the bed and making the mattress move.
The teenager licked his lips, breathing out slowly as he adjusted to the invasion. "Taking too long," he muttered, sliding his finger in and out alongside the still ones of the other man.
Derek had frozen in place, a low rumbling growl steadily leaving him, eyes fixated where their fingers were both inside of Stiles. He was completely enraptured by it, unable to tear his gaze away, totally fascinated by the sight. Stiles wished he could see it for himself, was halfway tempted to tell the older man to take a picture so he could get a glimpse as well, only to realize that that was a terrible idea. Erica had mentioned the Alpha having old childhood pics of Stiles on his phone and there was a huge possibility that she was a snoop and would stumble upon what would clearly be a sex pic and would never let them live it down.
He seemed to snap out of it after a long moment, leaning forward and kissing the back of Stiles' hand where it curved up. "Slide in another," he commanded in a husky voice, rough from arousal. "Gotta stretch you good if you want my knot."
A whimper escaped the Omega's throat at the image, vague recollections of how it felt to be stretched on it causing a fresh wave of arousal to crash over him. He did as he was told, slipping in a second finger, tilting his head back as he groaned. "Shit!"
The two of them worked together to stretch him, to get him ready, fingers thrusting in and out, scissoring. The grip on his hips loosened, allowing him to move in tandem with the digits, allowing him to seek out his pleasure. Derek moved up so he was laying over Stiles, nibbling on his neck and collarbone, breathing in his scent. The fingers of Stiles' free hand tangled in black locks, tugging gently, hips bucking up and making him gasp as his cock grazed against the other man's.
"Der," he breathed. "'M ready. 'M so ready."
A light nip was felt at his pulse point before two of the fingers slid out of him. The Alpha rose off the bed, shucking his jeans and boxer-briefs unceremoniously, wasting no time in climbing back on top of the younger man. He lined up their cocks, rubbing them together, precome making the slide smooth.
Stiles moaned loudly, hips bucking and adding to the friction. "Stop teasing and fuck me already, asshole."
"Demanding li'l Omega," the older man muttered, shifting his hips so that the tip of his cock was touching the back of the teenager's hand where his fingers were still inside of him.
The coyote immediately moved his hand, holding his legs back against his chest, presenting his hole even more. "Please," he whispered, eyes locked onto flickering red ones. With a nod of the head and a push of the hips, Derek was sliding inside him, not stopping until he was fully sheathed.
"Still so tight," the Alpha gritted through a clenched jaw, moving so the leaner male's legs were hooked over his elbows.
Stiles let out a noise that was part disbelieving laugh, part groan, eyes shut tight. His teeth sank into his bottom lip to bite back any noises as he adjusted to the width of Derek's cock, the stretch different than their four fingers but all the better for what it was. And with the heat not fuzzing his mind, he was able to take in every detail of it, the girth of it, the feel of it pulsing and throbbing inside, the vein along the underside and the shape of the head. It was incredible and amazing and awesome and he was seriously fucking stupid if he thought he could go the rest of his life without this.
Derek's motions started out slow, easy, long rolls of the hips that drove him deep. "You okay?" he questioned, voice strained, holding back.
The Omega opened his eyes to red ones, knowing his were most likely glowing gold, his fingertips tingling where his claws wanted to extend. "God yes," he breathed out.
A huge smile formed on the older man's face, rubbing their noses together, eyes remaining locked as he slowly sped up his motions.
Stiles couldn't help but notice all the differences between that moment and the times during heat sex. He wasn't completely desperate the way he had been then, wasn't completely consumed by the need to be knotted, allowing him to fully enjoy the experience and notice more details about it. He could see the thin sheen of sweat on Derek, the way it beaded on his forehead and rolled down his temples, his cheeks, got tangled in his whiskers and hung off his jaw for a moment before falling, like it was reluctant to let go. He could see the red tinge to his cheeks, the flush he was sporting from his exertions, the color bleeding to his ears. He could smell their mingled scents, that cinnamon-vanilla swirl he was already in love with, mixed with the scents of lust, arousal, sweat, and sex, along with something warmer that he couldn't quite put a name to, only knew that he had his coyote at peace. He could really feel the way the Alpha was driving into him, how he rubbed along his passage walls, how his own cock was squeezed and rubbed between their stomachs, precome and sweat lubricating the way.
He also noticed how Derek was completely focused on him, on pleasing him, attuned to his every noise, and vice verse. The Omega leaned how the older man liked it when he squeezed his inner-muscles and made them ripple along his dick, how he liked being bitten and nibbled just as much as he liked to bite, how he had sensitive ears when he licked and nibbled and sucked on them.
He was gonna exploit the shit outta that.
A pulsing was felt at the base of the Alpha's cock, his knot starting to expand and he pulled out completely, causing Stiles to whine.
"Nooo," he begged, hands cupping Derek's ass, trying to pull him back in and hold him there. "In."
"Can't knot you like this," he reasoned, voice calm despite the tension in his body from trying to hold his knot back. "C'mon, be a good li'l Omega and cooperate, okay?"
The words and the way they were spoken calmed something inside Stiles, soothing his coyote. He nodded, releasing his hold on him, allowing him to pull out. Derek shifted so he was sitting against the headboard, legs outstretched before him. Stiles immediately straddled him, hands wrapping around his cock and giving it a couple strokes, squeezing around the base. He could feel how firm it was, harder than the rest of him, throbbing in his grip as the gland there tried so desperately to expand and lock itself inside its owner's mate.
The Alpha groaned loudly, head falling back and hitting against the wall, hips bucking. "Oh, fuck, Stiles," he moaned out, licking his lips. "You better put me inside you soon or my knot'll be too big to fit."
"Oh hell no," the younger man chastised, scooting closer and lining the cock up with his hole. In one swift movement, he sank down on it, not stopping until he was fully seated on Derek's lap and had the other man's dick fully inside him. "My knot."
A smirk formed on the werewolf's face, eyes red, knot pulsing. "Yeah, baby, your knot," he agreed, placing his hands on the leaner man's hips and helping him move up and down his cock. "Everything I have, everything I am, it's all yours."
Stiles grinned widely, panting as he rose up and down, arms draped over the other man's shoulders. "My Alpha."
The smile grew. "All yours."
"'M your 'mega," he slurred, pleasure overriding the need for speech and being understood.
Derek's eyes were practically glowing, wide grin showing fanged teeth as he growled out a "mine!" He slammed Stiles down on him, making him cry out loudly, knot fully expanded and locking them together.
Stiles whimpered, remaining still as he adjusted to the new stretch inside of him. "Oh fuck, Der," he moaned, barely able to hold his eyes open. "So fucking big." His hips started moving in circles, a hand sliding up his back to rest between his shoulder blades, feeling the tell-tale pricks of claws.
"Come," the Alpha rumbled, hips rolling to add to the friction and pleasure they were both experiencing.
But despite how amazing everything felt and how ratcheted up his body was, he still wasn't quite there. It was the bathroom on the first day of his heat all over again, being so close yet unable to just fall over the precipice and orgasm. He shook his head, whines leaving the back of his throat, frustration beginning to override pleasure. "Can't," he stated. "Can't. So close, but can't."
Reaching down, Derek wrapped his free hand around Stiles' cock, stroking the length, careful of the claws that were still extended. The Omega gasped, eyes widening. Holy shit, that was so much better than when he did it to himself. Sure, the angle was a little weird, but fuck, just knowing that it was Derek's hand on him made the entire thing overwhelmingly awesome.
His hips bucked up on automatic, inadvertently causing his rim to pull at Derek's knot and making them both cry out in pain.
"Shit!"
"Oh, fuck, sorry! Sorry!" Stiles' hands rubbed over broad shoulders in what he hoped what a soothing manner and he was so not fucking surprised that losing his non-heat sex virginity involved him fucking up in some way.
A small smile played on the corner of the older man's lips, the expression meant to be reassuring but not having its full effect due to the fact that his eyes still held the slight hint of pain. "It's okay," he promised, kissing the other man lightly on his lips.
Stiles smiled shakily, swallowing, gasping as the grip around his dick tightened. His mind fogged over with pleasure once more, his orgasm racing closer, building up faster than ever. "Derek," he whined out, forehead pressed against the werewolf's, needing just a little extra push to fully fall over the edge of ecstasy but not entirely sure what kind.
"I gotcha," he reassured, lips grazing together, breath mingling between them. "Let go. I gotcha."
The younger man whimpered more, clutching at Derek's back and scratching him with claws he wasn't aware had slid out. "Please," he barely whispered, the word lost in the slick slide of a hand on his cock, in the creak of the mattress, in the rub of a knot against his prostate, in two pounding heart beats.
On the next upstroke, Derek thumbed at his head, sliding a claw into his slit. With glowing red eyes, he ran his fangs up along the Omega's throat, growling out a command to come.
"Fuck!" Stiles screamed out, hand slamming out against the wall as his orgasm slammed into him. His entire body tensed up as thick ropes of come spurted out of his cock, making him shudder all over. His eyes widened even further as he felt a pulsing inside him, the Alpha's orgasm following his, filling him up as he clutched onto the leaner male tighter.
Aftershocks raced through them both, making them tremble against one another, foreheads pressed together. Their breathing was nothing more than panting, the air mixed and mingled between parted lips, both set of them curved up in smiles.
Derek ran his clean hand through Stiles' hair, clutched the back of his head, kissed him sweetly. "I love you," he confessed lowly, causing Stiles' grin to grow, heart pounding in the realization that it was the first time the Alpha had actually said those words.
And, of course, it was post-coitus.
A laugh bubbled out of him, arms wrapped around his neck, fingers playing with the sweaty locks at the base of his skull. "Love you, too," he replied happily. "And I love sex. With you. Sex with you is awesome. Pretty sure it's the best sex ever."
The older man raised his head, eyes narrowed as he sobered up. "I swear to God if you tell me you need to sleep with other people in order to create a fair comparison—"
"Fuck that!" Stiles interrupted, meaning every syllable. "You and only you. Forever."
Another pulsing was felt inside of him, Derek shuddering in the midst of another mini-orgasm, mouth gaping as he breathed out harshly. "Oh shit, Stiles."
A shit-eating grin formed on his face, nose rubbing against the other man's. "I take it you like that plan."
"Very fucking much," he replied breathlessly, eyes flickering in colors.
"Good." He kissed the Alpha's nose then his forehead, scratching the back of his head with blunt nails. "Know what plan I like? Me eating those cinnamon rolls. Regular sex makes me hungry."
Derek rolled his eyes and snorted, yet still reached over and grabbed a box and fork. He opened it up, cutting a piece off and offering it to the Omega to eat.
"Beff A'ph e'er," Stiles declared, mouth full of food, getting cuffed upside the head in response.
"You and your atrocious table manners," the werewolf complained, shaking his head and raising his eyes to the sky, obviously wondering how the hell he got stuck with a mate like Stiles.
He simply grinned before swallowing and repeating. "Best. Alpha. Ever."
The smile on Derek's face was blinding, all white teeth and whiskered dimples, green eyes lit up from the inside out. "And I'm all yours. Forever."
"I like the sound of that best of all."
Their kiss wasn't much of a kiss really, mostly just their lips pressed together. They were both smiling too much to do anything else. Not that Stiles cared. He had Derek as his Alpha and his mate for life.