Preface
Hold your tongue and hear me out.Posted originally on the Archive of Our Own at /works/1859568.
Rating:
Explicit
Archive Warning:
Choose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Category:
M/M
Fandom:
Teen Wolf (TV)
Relationship:
Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, very minor background background relationships
Character:
Derek Hale, Stiles Stilinski, Scott McCall, Allison Argent, Jackson Whittemore, very sterek centric, I STRESS MINOR BACKGROUND CHARACTERS
Additional Tags:
AU, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Mutual Pining, Friends to Lovers, derek cant say stiles real name, so he doesnt know hwo his soul mate is, no one knows stiles name, stiles wants it to be real, derek doesnt feel good enough, Bottom Derek, willing bottom stiles, stiles wants to make it good, Hair Pulling, Confessions, One Shot, POV Stiles, POV Derek, Fingering, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, pornographic sounds
Stats:
Published: 2014-06-28 Words: 11785
Hold your tongue and hear me out.
by TamzStripped
Summary
Derek just needs to find the owner of the stupid name on his wrist so he can finally be happy. He's damaged goods and he can't even pronounce the name on his wrist. He's beginning to think he will be alone forever. That might be ok though, as long as he can keep Stiles in his life, he might just be able to be happy.
Or
Stiles pining after his best friends big brother waiting for the idiot to fall in love with him without some predestined bullshit so that they can live happily ever after, and if they are lucky, have lots and lots of sex. Lots.
Notes
See the end of the work for notes
Hold your tongue and hear me out.
"What kind of best man are you?" Stiles grumbles walking into the hotel room where the grooms party had gotten ready. Derek is the only left in there trying to steal a few more minutes to get his head together. Derek looks up scratching at his wrist rolling his eyes at Stiles, for the hundredth time since they met. "Seriously?" Stiles chokes then looks aways shaking his head double checking his cuff links. "You get picked over me for the role I was destined for and all you do if roll your damn eyes."
Derek grins ducking his head away again eyeing the script on his wrist. "He asked you to be the best man, Stiles."
Stiles grunts from across the room in sarcastic amusement, "Yea AFTER he asked you and you told him no, and started waxing poetic about how you are a terrible choice blah blah can't find soulmate blah poor me blah."
Derek stands up to adjust his tie in the mirror trying to look like that comment didn't dig at him. There was nothing he wanted more than to find his soulmate. It shouldn't be that hard! It was already determined! Why couldn't he find this person? It was like they were hiding from him and that hurt more. "That isn't what I said.." He might as well have said those words though.
"Sorry." Stiles said ripping him out of his thoughts. "You know what I mean. He just asked me because you said no and he felt bad for putting you in an uncomfortable position. I am no one's second choice, man!" Stiles plays with his cuff again. "And don't even try to convince me that at least half of your argument wasn't because you just didn't want the responsibility and demand to actually attend." Stiles pins him with a look. "It's your brothers wedding and you guys are all you have. Skipping out on his wedding? Over my dead body." He opens a random drawer pulling out the complimentary serving of coffee and starts up the coffee machine.
Stiles is right. Derek didn't want to come, but not for the reason everyone thinks. Jackson walksin at that exact moment and brings Derek back out of his thoughts, which again is definitely for the best. Today should be a happy day.
"Hey, testicle 1 & 2. 10 minutes. Get your asses in line!" Then he's gone.
"Never thought I would be taking orders from Jackson of all people on Scott's wedding day." Stiles laughed checking himself one last time in the mirror. "Ready big guy?"
--
Derek doesn't remember much of how the wedding actually went just that he was thinking of anything and everything to distract himself from the event altogether. He's not pathetic, ok? He just doesn't understand why he can't find his soul mate. Everyone finds their soul mate, that was just how things worked.
Derek clasps his wrists behind his back to keep himself from focusing on it while he should be offering congratulations to his brother on his big day. Usually he would be able to not think about his soulmate, but wedding always brought him down.
"Derek, it's now or never." Stiles nudges him from the side. Right. Speech. Stiles smirks tapping his glass with the edge of his knife to grab everyone's attention, then looks at him expectantly. With a forced smile Derek drags himself from his seat and looks at the rather large wedding party.
"Well here we all are... again. Weddings in this town never stop do they? In fact I will be seeing you all next weekend for another wedding. But I digress." He clears his throat looking down at his wrist. "From a very early age we all learn who will complete us. Who will bring out the best in us. Who our soulmates are. Some of us find them next door, some of us find them in a supermarket, high school, pumping gas, and when you find that person there is no awkward energy, no hesitation, because you just know, if your name is found on another wrist you were made for them. End of story." Everyone looks around smiling at their significant others or friends and family who have found just that. "Not Scott and Allison though." The newlyweds laugh covering their faces. "Nope. These two meet in a chatroom discussing archery." Derek laughs too, now. "I remember Scott coming to me asking me how to meet girls, and I told him to find a chat room. He asked what kind and I didn't really care, I just wanted him out of my room so I said archery because I was reading The Hunger Games." He smiles then squares his shoulders looking at Scott. "Little did I know this was exactly what the idiot would do. Joke was on me though." He swallows the knot in his throat. "My dismissive little comment lead him to his soul mate." Scott holds Allison's hand to his lips giving her a kiss on the knuckles. "took 3 years for them to ever get past the user names, but by the time they did, it wasn't necessary, they already knew they had found their true love and mark or not they were going to be together. This, my friends, proves that Love is still alive, this gives me hope." He clears his throat and lifts his glass, "to the happy couple!"
Everyone erupts into a chorus of ooh's and awe's, some are hugging, some are clapping and Derek is seconds from throwing up. The last wedding he gave a speech at was Laura's, and now he is the last Hale to get married and he is no where close. He's a failure. As soon as he knows no one is watching him any longer he retreats back to the hotel room.
--
Stiles watches him creep along the walls until he is out of sight,but not before grabbing a bottle of scotch on his way out. He feels sorry for Derek. He understands why he feels the way that he does. He feels it too sometimes. Stiles sighs watching the wedding party dance and laugh and he mentally kicks himself. He isn't allowed to feel sorry for himself, he did this to himself. He knows his soulmate. It's Derek. Stiles takes a long drink from his flute to try and drown out the thought.
A twisted name on a wrist shouldn't determine whether or not you love someone and Stiles will never accept that. Scott and Allison are prime examples of being able to fall in love without seeing a stupid name on a wrist. Stiles stomach turns at the thought of seeing exactly how people react when they see their name on someone's wrist, some even dive right into tonsil hockey. It's disgusting. He doesn't want that, he wants the slow fall. He wants Derek to slowly fall in love with him. Like his parents did.
Derek has already proven to him just how much he doesn't give a shit about him. That he would rather Stiles not be around at all. He's just a burden. He's annoying, overactive, and completely ridiculous. Why in the hell would Derek want him?
Ok so, maybe he's over reacting a little, Derek hasn't ever said any of that in so many words, but Stiles knows how he is, and he knows how Derek is. The only reason Derek would ever love him is if he knew that the unusual name on his wrist belonged to him.
The kicker? Stiles is madly in love with Derek. Head over Hills. Lets run away to the chapel to get married. Let me have all your babies. Love. Stiles fell in love with him before he ever knew he was his soulmate.
When the Hale fire happened everyone kept talking about the only survivor named Peter. So when he met Derek he assumed he was Peter. Funny how when you meet people these days you never really learn their names... maybe that's just Stiles. Anyway, apparently when they said 'only survivor' it meant the only survivor that made it out of the fire.
It wasn't until about 2 months later that Stiles called Derek, Peter, when he ran into him at a gas station pumping gas. Derek corrected him immediately pointing out how long they had known each other and Stiles didn't even know his name. Joke was on him though. No one knew Stiles real name aside from his Dad...
At that thought Stiles stands up taking a full bottle of Champagne with him to the indoor pool that is thankfully empty. He sits back plugging in his earphones trying to drown out any and all noise.
Stiles hates thinking about what had happened to his dad. It was his fault, and guilt didn't even begin to cover how he felt. He had left his bedroom window unlocked one night when he stayed over at Scott's house and turns out that night a burglar decided to test it. His dad had his gun on his bedside table, thankfully, and was able to stop the ass hole, but not before he took a few bullets himself.
Stiles was beholden to some greater deity for saving his father. He would have never been able to live if he had died. God. Stiles rubs his eyes at the sting of threatening tears. His dad is alive, but paralyzed from the waist down in a facility that can provide him with the best treatment possible. Stiles still goes to see him daily, making sure he's not living off of pudding and Jello, but it hurts every time he sees him. This is his fault. His dad will never admit it, but it is.
Stiles takes a long drink from the bottle trying to remember why his brain had gone to his dad in the first place? Oh right. His name. His Dad is the only person who knows his real name anymore. When his mom was still alive and they lived further North he went by it because his mother didn't give him any other choice. His name had a very special meaning to her. She named him that for a reason, and there was no way she was going to call him by something else. He manages to roll his eyes at the memories of such conversations.
His name means 'the fortunate one' and after her passing he didn't feel so fortunate. Eventually after talking to his dad about how every time someone said his name he felt the sudden urge to vomit and that all he could do was grieve, his father agreed to his chosen nickname. Stiles.
All of his friends at school still refused to call him that though, which who could blame them? They had all pretty much grown up together, and it wasn't like his name was common or easily forgotten. His dad finally agreed that it was time to move and that was when they resettled in Beacon hills and he met Scott, and now here he is. Drinking. Alone. By a deserted pool.
Just as he's considering jumping in fully clothed to shock his system, his butt vibrates.
"Derek?"
"Heyyyy" Derek sighed drunkenly over the phone.
"Someone is wasted." Stiles sighs humorously closing his eyes and imagining Derek spread out in bed, all warm and cuddly, calling Stiles because he needs him. But this is not the case. Derek doesn't love him, he just feels like he can relate to him since neither of them have found their soulmates.
Derek breathes messily into the phone, "yeaaa little brother got the good stuff."
Stiles sits quietly waiting for Derek to get whatever it is off his chest in regards to his drunk dial.
"Stiles?"
"I'm here."
"You are? Are you at the door?" He hears the sheets ruffle.
Stiles chuckles, "No I meant I'm on the phone. I'm down by the pool" Derek grunts and there's a rush of air like he just fell backwards on the bed. "Ya, big dork."
"Can I ask you something?" Stiles grunts am affirmative. "Have you given up?" silence "on... finding them?" Stiles doesn't answer. "I mean it's just you never told anyone the name. And I was wondering why you aren't trying harder you know? Do you just want to be alone?"
Stiles sighs, this isn't the first time he has been asked these kinds of questions.. "I haven't given up. I love the idea of falling in love as much as the next person, but that's just it. I want to fall in love and have someone fall in love with me... for me... not because of some name embedded in our skin." They have talked about how Derek feels a few times when Derek favored a bottle just a little too much, but Stiles tried not to talk about himself. Doesn't want to push Derek, just let Derek come to him of his own free will.
Derek doesn't speak for a moment like he is hoping Stiles will go on. "No one is ever going to fall in love with me unless they know I am perfect for them. Unless they have that verified. If it weren't for these marks I would have never had a chance of finding anyone... I'm damaged goods."
Stiles groans and swings his fist out with the phone, this again? Really?He stands up and strips his belt off. "I don't feel like having this conversation again Derek. I'm tired." Derek whines, actually whines, and Stiles unbuttons his pants. "We've been over this a thousand times. You are not damaged goods." He drops his pants. "You know what I think about you." Not completely, Stiles keeps a lot tight to his chest. "You're drunk. I'm Drunk. Get some sleep." Stiles hangs up the phone before either of them can say anything else.
He wanted so badly to just be like 'Derek you're not alone. You belong right here. With me. Come here let me hold you. You poor broken little thing.' and that would be the shortest least pathetic thing he could have said. He just needs Derek to fall in love with him for him. He is your first choice. Stiles refuses to be settled for. He finishes stripping off the remainder of his clothing.
Time to shock the system. Stiles jumps in the pool cannon ball style.
--
When Stiles disconnects the call Derek can't breathe. He hates this feeling. Alone. He will never find someone who loves him. Never find The person. Hell, he can't even pronounce the fucking name on his wrist. It's infuriating. Why couldn't his wrist just say Stiles? He love's him. Loves his outspoken nature. How you never really have to worry if he isn't loyal. Derek has watched Stiles the past year and seen how once Stiles decides you are worth his friendship he will go to the end of the earth to make sure you are happy. That's one of the reasons he has opened up to him about his soulmate issues. He knows that Stiles will never judge him, and won't run around telling everyone about his insecurities. Stiles is just a good friend, and once he finds his soulmate he will make them happier than anyone else, no doubt about it. When that time comes, Derek will be happy for both of them, but selfishly he hopes that never happens, because then he won't have Stiles anymore. Not really.
Derek stands up looking for his pants. Stiles can hang up on him. Fine. He might still be at the pool though and Derek needs to be around a certain clumsy, doe eyed, idiot.
He knows he lays it on thick when he is talking to Stiles about their soulmates, but it's because it's Stiles. He can still be a friend, though. Not just the 25 year old head case. Sometimes he wishes that they didn't have these stupid marks. Then he could just be with Stiles, if Stiles wanted to be with him, that is. Who is he kidding? Stiles could do 300 times better.
When Derek makes it down to the pool he doesn't see Stiles anywhere and he almost turns around to head back to bed. Maybe Stiles went home? But wasn't he drinking? Maybe he got his own room because he didn't feel like dealing with Derek's shit tonight.
He hears water crashing and turns back around to see Stiles do a flip and swim across the pool to the other side and then repeat the motion. Laps. Stiles is doing laps. After a few he realizes he has no idea he's there. He makes his way to the edge of the pool rolling up his pant legs and dangles his feet in waiting for Stiles to exert himself with the laps.
Derek watches the way the lean muscle in his back flex with each stroke, how the water caresses them so carefully, how the water glistens against his closed eye lashes. God why can't his wrist say Stiles? He shakes his head at that thought, doesn't matter, can't change it.
How is Stiles even swimming this much isn't he intoxicated? Derek knows he wouldn't even be able to do one lap in the condition he is in. Wouldn't trust himself not to drown.
"Oh!" Stiles spits breaking Derek of his thoughts, "my god!" He wipes the water from his face. "You scared the hell out of me, how long have you been sitting there?" He swims over to the edge propping his elbows next to Derek's hip. Panic leaving his expression.
"About 6 laps." Derek ducks his head, embarrassed. "Didn't want to interrupt."
"Figures. Always supportive of a little physical exercise, huh?" Derek blushes, so he likes to stay in shape. Sue him. Stiles rubs at his nose. "Thanks, i guess. You feeling any better?"
"Yea, sorry about that."
"It's alright Der," Stiles is the only one he lets get away with calling him that, he gets all warm when he says it actually.. "you know I'm always here for you...even if I did just hang up on you...I just-"
"No, you had every right. All I do is cry to you. This isn't your problem." He pulls his legs out feeling awkward and wishing he had never left his room.
Stiles hesitates, "Hey, it's cool. Why don't you stay? Water's nice." he splashes Derek's thigh. "Might sober your drunk ass up a bit!" he laughs and splashes him again.
"I am not that drunk!" Derek laughs pulling his legs out. "And I'm still in my suit pants."
"You are absolutely right, my bad." Stiles sticks his hand up in surrender, "Help me out?"
Derek reaches out without thinking and next thing he knows he is submerged face first in the water. Thank God it's not cold.
--
Stiles is laughing so hard at Derek's dumbfounded expression, like Stiles just betrayed his trust, that he thinks he might choke and die. He expects Derek to make some kind of threat and start a water fight, but instead he blinks for a second and when he opens them Derek is lunging at him and before Stiles can tuck tail and run, he is under water. Derek dunked him.
"Ohh" Stiles chuckles shaking his hair out and rubbing the water from his face. "it's on!" He lunges and Derek catches him throwing him across the pool like a bag of potatoes.
"You can do better than that." Derek mocks as Stiles, again, wipes the water out of his eyelashes.
With a war cry that could rival Thor, Stiles rushes him. Derek knocks him back a few feet but Stiles takes the opportunity to swim behind him and latch on Spider Monkey style. Derek tries to reach back and pull him off but can't get a grip. "What tha? Stiles!" Stiles just laughs in his ear, wrapping his arms tighter around his shoulders.
"Awe, you can do better than that, Derek" Stiles mocks and Derek Body slams them into the water, and due to growing up on the coast Stiles has enough sense to suck in a lungful of air. After about 15 seconds they stand back up. "Not gunna get rid of me that easy!" he does it again and stays down for almost 30 seconds. "Bro, I grew up on the beach." Derek groans, but Stiles can see the corner of his mouth and he is definitely enjoying himself.
This time when he goes under he wiggles trying to break free but Stiles only tightens his grip with his legs and his arms. "What are you?!" Derek laughs trying to cover his irritation.
"Your worst nightmare, apparently." Stiles practically cackles into Derek's ear as he twists and turns trying to pry any limb he can get a hold of off, but just as he gets one off and moves to another the previously pried limb returns securely in place. "I can do this all day." Stiles sighs and lays his head down in the crook of Derek's shoulder and neck.
Derek exhales heavily and if Stiles didn't know any better he would think that Derek had liked that. The reality was, that Derek was getting frustrated and if he kept at this much longer he might actually piss him off. Problem is...he does not want to let go. Maybe not ever.
Yea, he sometimes strokes Derek's back or hair when he is having a particularly rough night, and they have a lot of bro hugs, but this is different. Stiles can pretend just for a second that Derek isn't going anywhere, that he is his. He nuzzles into Derek's neck sighing contentedly breathing in his musky scent, and Derek starts to back up. Stiles doesn't even care why or where they are going in his lustful oblivion at the moment.
He instantly registers the edge of the pool press into his back and Derek press into his front. "Interesting tactic." Stiles says a little too close to the skin and basically mouth rapes Derek's neck. He pushes back harder slightly angling his neck away from Stiles. Almost like he wants Stiles to do more. He doesn't though. Doesn't want to ruin the friendship. If he can't have Derek as his own, he sure as hell is not going to lose him as a friend. Nope.
Derek reaches up and grips Stiles hand and shifts his back a little bit and oh god. Stiles has just now acknowledged the fact that he is only in boxer briefs and Derek is in slacks and a muscle tee. Shit.
Derek shifts again and it feels so good that Stiles forgets why he was freaking out. He moves a few more times and Stiles has a full on chubby right against the cleft of Derek's ass. Stiles moans into Derek's neck fighting the urge to latch on. It's right there for the taking, but he's scared.
This is everything Stiles has ever wanted and nothing like he wanted at the same time. He wants Derek, but he needs to hear Derek say it back.
He's fighting this internal battle when Derek reaches up to grab his left wrist and Stiles instantly lets go and drops to his feet pulling his wrist close to his chest. There was a reason he always had on long sleeve shirts and here he is practically skinny dipping with the one person who can never see his wrist.Fucking idiot!
Stiles swims away and pushes himself out of the pool looking for his button up that he threw off and wiggles into his pants. It's difficult and uncomfortable, but he needs protection as soon as humanly possible.
The whole time he is doing this Derek has his head ducked down refusing to make eye contact. Once Stiles is dressed and securing his cuff-link, Derek makes his way to the stairs and slowly climbs out.
"Stiles, I'm sorry, I don't know what I was thinking-" Derek says still looking away ringing out his shirt still refusing to make eye contact.
Once Stiles knows his wrist is secured he looks up at him, squares his shoulders, and says "It's cool. Forget it ever happened."
--
Those 4 words crush Derek. For a moment there in the pool he actually let himself believe that Stiles wanted him back. That the stupid name on his wrist wasn't his only hope. That they weren't as powerful as everyone claimed they were. That you could still find someone who could love you without it already being predestined. He was wrong. As always.
The fucked up part? All Derek was apologizing for was for trying to look at his wrist. Stiles had made it clear to everyone that he didn't want to share that part of him. He had no regrets about the activities in the pool though. But Stiles wants to forget it, so Derek will respect that. He'd rather have Stiles as a friend than nothing at all.
Stiles secures his wrist tighter and Derek knows he messed up. "Did you get a room?" He asks finally looking up from under his brow sticking his fingers into his pockets.
Stiles face screws together, "What? No. Should I have? I thought we were sharing the room since everyone else either went home or got their own." Stiles caves a little more inward.
"No-No, i just wasn't sure. You wanna head back up?" He says mentally kicking himself hoping Stiles doesn't think he's just trying to get him into bed.
They head upstairs in silence, Stiles doesn't even race him to the top. Which he Always does. Derek slumps in further. He should have just stayed in bed. He's ruined everything now.
When they get to the room Stiles uses his card because Derek's is wet. Stiles shoves his hands in his pockets and starts emptying them as soon as they get into the room. Derek stands there like he has intruded on Stiles personal time, and he knows he looks awkward but he has no idea how to stop! "'I'm going to take a shower!" He shouts and actually smacks his own face, "To sober up, and all the chlorine, and stuff…"
Stiles grins and actually chuckles, "All Right, big guy. You go do that, but don't take too long." Derek raises his eyebrow at him. "I'd like to shower too before I pass out." Right. Derek nods and peels off his tank on his way to the bathroom trying to be as quick as possible and to sober the fuck up!
--
Look at that back! That's a sexy ass back. Stiles stands there with his mouth hanging open, thank God Derek isn't looking. Like boy looked good with the tank clinging in all the right places, but he is a perfect specimen. Stiles focuses on the task at hand when he hears the shower cut on.
Ah, the coffee he brewed this morning before the wedding. It'll be gross but the caffeine will help. He turns on the burner to reheat the coffee.
He sits back against the dresser. What the hell happened? Some sexy ass man on man foreplay happened, that's what! No. Derekwasn'tinto it.Not with Stiles, he was just intoxicated and vulnerable. Stiles pulls the carafe and fills a small white mug, "I just can't live up to my name, mom."He sighs looking up. "You tried, but a name isn't as powerful as you thought." He looks down at his fingers. "I miss you." She always knew exactly what to say. Even if he had just lost his favorite lego man, or he stubbed his toe for the 14th time on his must have surfboard desk. She always had the right words, if she didn't? She always had the right hugs. For any occasion. He needs one of those right about now.
Stiles wraps his arms around himself trying to pretend it's her. "I miss you." He starts crying and about that time Derek comes out of the bathroom. He's rambling about how great the shower is and Stiles tries to erase any traces of weakness from his face. Derek catches on anyway.
"Stiles? What's wrong? Was it me?" He's run over and his hands are on his shoulders rubbing, eyes seeking out his.
"Nothing. What? No. It's nothing." Stiles says shoving the tears away. Why the hell is he crying anyway? Yea he misses his mom, but wasn't he just upset over a stupid dude? The stupid dude standing in front of him stroking his shoulders and arms. The same dude who is cooing nonsense trying to calm him down. The same dude who genuinely looks like if he isn't able to help him, he will literally go out of his freaking mind. The same dude Stiles is madly in love with. The same dude standing in nothing but a towel.
Stiles shoves the coffee mug up to his face and chokes down a swallow, definitely stale coffee. Derek holds his fingers to the bottom of the mug to steady it, apparently Stiles hands are shaking, great.
"I'm fine Der, I promise."
"You are a terrible liar." Stiles doesn't say anything just offers a shy smile and takes another drink. "Ok, fine just take a shower. You are going to be fine." Derek says squeezing Stiles neck.
Stiles downs the rest of the cup, then heads to the shower unbuttoning his pants and shirt on the way.
He shuts the bathroom door and falls back against it, "what is wrong with me?" he threads his fingers through his hair sees the script on his wrist and squeezes his eyes shut. Why does he keep doing this to himself? Yea, Derek might reject him, but all he needs is to see his wrist and they will live happily ever after, right? No.
Stiles refuses to accept that. Derek, or someone, will fall in love with him for him. They have to.
He pulls off his shirt the rest of the way then drops his pants and pries the damp briefs off himself then turns on the shower. Thank god for hotel water heaters, water never gets cold. He climbs in and sighs hanging his head forward letting the water pelt him from behind. The tension starts to leave his neck and shoulders, and he finds himself thinking about how Derek stood there rubbing his shoulders trying to ease his pain, emotional pain, but pain all the same.
Derek is a stunning human being, why can't he see that? He has the biggest heart Stiles has ever seen, given he keeps most of his feelings to himself, well all of his feelings really, but Stiles has had the privilege of getting to know him.
When he first moved to Beacon Hills and met Scott, Derek was just his really attractive older brother who never really said much and kept to himself. Stiles took that as a challenge and would engage in conversation in any and all ways possible. Even if it was a "So how about that Met's game last night?" to which Derek would roll his eyes and make a comment about the opposing team to rifle Stiles feathers. He didn't do that at first, so Stiles likes to think that after the first few times Derek started paying attention to when they would play so that he would know who they went against when Stiles asked him the next day. Or he would comment on his aftershave, which always seemed to put a smug little grin on his stupidly handsome face. Or he would point in horror "Oh my god! What happened to your jacket?!" to see Derek flinch and inspect every inch of the leather.
Eventually Derek started playing back with things like "Are you stripping the paint on your car? I kinda liked the blue…" to which Stiles would sprint out the door to inspect his baby, and when he walked back in Derek was just stretched out across the couch with a bag of chips in his hands grinning like a champion. Or "Maybe the Mets won't suck so bad now that [insert player] has retired." and for the record, that only worked the first time. Then there were the "Sooo… I ran into your dad the other day and he told me an interesting story…" and Stiles prays that this never actually happens. Dear lord. He hardly has a chance now, add in a few humiliating stories and his chances won't even be seen under a microscope.
For the most part the first few months they just joked around. Then he and Scott got drunk in the woods by the Hale property and Derek had to come pick them up. Derek and Stiles ended up staying up in the loft drinking after Scott passed out skyping Allison.
That was when he got a good look at the hopeless romantic inside of Derek. That was when Stiles fell in love with him and had a very drawn out, very emotional, quarter life crisis for the following week. It was the following Saturday that Stiles ran into Derek at the gas station calling out "Hey Peter! Did someone hit your car?" Derek didn't fall for it at this point, maybe because he was distracted by the fact Stiles had called him Peter, either way that was when Stiles had a whole new emotional storm cloud to deal with.
Now, here he is, thinking about the good ol' days in a shower with Derek lying waiting on a very soft bed in a hotel room. The same bed Stiles is to share tonight.
He climbs out of the shower and towels off. Shit, he didn't bring in his clothes in with him. He rubs the towel through his hair trying to come up with a game plan when he catches the black markings in the mirror.
It never ceases to amaze him. How they are all born with the little marks on their wrist. Some parents even hunt out their children's soulmate from a very early age, half of them don't get anywhere especially when there are over 3000 Sarah's in the world.
Growing up he barely knew what the markings meant, his mom and dad didn't treat it like the holy grail. Every time Stiles would ask about it they would tell them it was the one person who would love him for him, that when he found that person and that person found him everything would fall into place. Like it did for them.
Maybe that is why Stiles is still so hung up on the whole thing. Love him for him. No, that's definitely why.
He holds his wrist in front of him tracing the curly black lines with his fingertips. Rumor is, the mark is on the left wrist for the same reason you wear your wedding ring on your left ring finger; it's the only finger with a direct connection to your heart. Stiles watches the blood pump in his veins on his wrist just under the r that curls in on itself.
With a sigh he drops his hand and secures the towel around his waist with his wrist pressed flat against it.
When he gets to the room Derek is already in bed making himself look busy with a copy of Into the Wild. Stiles digs in his bag looking for a long sleeve shirt, he wasn't planning on needing one. Derek never tried to look, no one did, they all respected his wishes. From a distance or a glance you can't really read the script. You have to be right up on it to make out the letters beneath the intricate detail of spirals and shadows. He just can't risk it tonight.
He pulls out another button up he had worn to the rehearsal dinner for a few hours and after he pulls it over his shoulders and pulls on his pants under his towel he hears Derek sigh from behind him and get up.
Stiles watches him walk across the room and dig in his bag. Stiles tries to ignore him by buttoning his shirt and wrist buttons. Derek walks over holding a maroon long sleeve shirt. Stiles meets his eyes.
"Here." Derek holds out an arm, shaking the shirt a little. "It has thumb holes." He demonstrates sticking his left hand through to show that the mark will be covered up easily. Sweet baby Jesus, this man is perfect.
"I l-" Stiles starts, "thank you." Derek tilts his head and walks back to the bed so he can switch shirts.
He goes to pour another stale cup of coffee. He takes a sip. Holy cow, can he just quit it? for just one second, can he just let Stiles fall back into 'it's okay I can live without him'? There was a freshly brewed coffee waiting for him. Derek must have taken the time to brew another pot because he knows coffee calms his nerves.
He makes his way to the bed and climbs in securing his waist with the fluffiest blanket man has ever made. He feels all warm and cozy and better than he has ever felt before in his life sitting in this bed made for royalty, with a soft sweater clinging to his upper half but hanging loosely in all the right places so he feels hidden, and a warm cup of french roast under his nose. It's perfect. The only thing that could make it better is if Derek told him he loved him.
Derek flips through the channels discarding his novel. They settle on a show about the rise in weddings and fall in divorce, some kind of Overexposed show. Stiles watches Derek out of the corner of his eye and for the hundredth time fights back the impulse to come clean, but he needs to stay strong… for his mom.
He finishes his coffee and places the mug on the nightstand and rolls over searching for unconsciousness to relieve him of his waking thoughts.
--
When Stiles rolls over Derek takes the hint and turns off the TV accepting it's for the best, he is in no condition to watch happy couples parade across the screen one after another. He sits up in bed tracing one of the Z's on his wrist. If it's this hard to find this person, they must be much worse off than Derek, as far as the simple aspect of not getting out much.
Derek tries to picture this unknown person whom he is pretty sure is a dude. He never really thought about his orientation. No one did. Everyone relied on their wrist. If you were born with a dude's name on it you were gay, and vice versa.
The most irritating part was that no matter how many times he tried to redirect his thoughts it always came back to Stiles.
Stiles was perfect for him, but he wasn't perfect for Stiles. He wasn't perfect for anyone.
He flips off his bedside lamp and slides further down into the sheets rolling toward Stiles back trying to make out his hairline in the dark.
After about 15 minutes just as Derek is on the edge of sleep Stiles whispers "You asleep?"
With a sigh Derek closes his eyes, "No."
"I just can't sleep." Stiles says flipping onto his back.
Derek can barely make out his profile and the upturn of his nose. "What's on your mind?"
"Everything." Derek reaches out and strokes his shoulder and Stiles presses into it. "My mom and Dad."
"What about em?" He says dropping his hands. He could listen to Stiles talk all day.
"About how they fell in love. It was my favorite bedtime story growing up." he laughs.
"You never told me about how they met."
Stiles waits a few moments, contemplating. "Well, my grandparents on my moms side were radicals." Radicals were what everyone called the group of people who fought the markings. They didn't believe in destiny or fate. Like Lydia and Jackson. Lydia refuses to believe that a name on her wrist is her future, and when she met Jackson he felt the same and against all odds they are getting married, marks be damned. Stiles starts laughing "They were so set in their ways that they kept the mark covered at all times, my mom didn't even remember what it looked like because she didn't want to know either. Then when she turned 18 she tattooed over it. it was just a black box with gaps at the top and bottom that formed the words 'Free Will'. When my dad met her and found out how she felt, he kept it to himself and wore a watch so she would never see her own name." Derek sees him move to rub at his own wrists. "They dated for almost 2 years when my dad finally proposed. He says he was in love with her from the day he met her, but she made him work for it."
Derek laughs, "I guess now I know where you get it."
There's a minute of silence before Stiles continues. "He didn't show her the mark until their wedding day just before she said 'I do." He gave a big speech about how he knows he has found the one, and he hopes she feels the same. He told everyone that he has always known how she felt but he couldn't walk away, but she had every right to walk away because he lied to her. Then he showed her his wrist."
"What did she do?" Derek asked wondering how he would feel to find out the one person he felt would never betray him had kept one of the biggest secrets from him.
"She froze. And stared. My dad said the entire building fell silent expecting a tirade of obscenities to spew from the maiden in white." Stiles laughs again and Derek can't help but laugh too, obviously they had stayed together. "She hit him." he smacks himself, "right in the chest. and said "You are such an Asshole. But I think that is the nicest most romantic thing anyone has ever done for me. Then they kissed."
"That went a lot better than I expected."
"Yea" he laughs, "but then she shoved him and told him to never even think about doing something like that again. Who did he think he was? her husband? no romance. Then they kissed again and they lived happily ever after."
"That's beautiful." Derek admits softly. They both lay in silence for a little over a minute to appreciate the story. "I can see why you liked that bedtime story."
Stiles sighs, "Yea. I don't tell it as well, but same story."
Derek hesitates, "Is that why you don't show anyone your wrist? You want someone to love you for you without caring about your wrist?"
"Yes, Derek. I could have sworn I told you at some point." Stiles says lolling his head to the side.
"I'm just saying" Derek says defensively, "that they might already have your name on their wrist and already know, so how can you be sure."
Stiles doesn't say anything for a minute or so. "I'll….just know. Trust me."
Derek nods, "I do. More than anyone else actually." He admits turning his head away falling onto his back.
Stiles rolls over onto his side to face him, "Don't say that. You have Scott. And friends….and I'm just your little brothers best friend who became enamored with the attractive leather wearing scruffy big brother" he mumbles.
Derek flips his head to look at Stiles and he ducks away averting his eyes. "Do you mean that?"
"More or less." Stiles mutters suddenly finding his sleeves highly interesting.
"Don't say that." Derek grunts staring at the ceiling. He can't let himself think for a second that Stiles likes him or he is going to do something stupid and ruin everything they have. "Why would you say that?"
Stiles rolls back onto his back. "Oh my god, Derek. Don't get so weird. I'm not going to molest you in your sleep. I know you are waiting for your damn wristmate to come along and magically make everything better."
Derek groans internally then out loud. "That's not what I said Stiles." They both lay there quietly, silently fuming. Finally Derek breaks it, "If I was afraid of that…" he steadies himself, he has to say something, hint at least. Then Stiles can either pursue it or act like it never happened, like he said down at the pool. "I wouldn't have...ya know.." just say it ya big wuss! "in the pool." Real smooth, you idiot. Derek rubs at his face wishing the bed would open up and swallow him like in the original Nightmare on Elm Street.
He's suddenly very aware of how still is is on the other side of the bed. Dammit Derek, you really shit the bed this time. "But don't worry about it. I like it the way it is." He finally manages trying to right the situation he has gotten himself into.
The silence has stretched on for so long Derek is contemplating jumping out the window 3 feet away.
"Derek." Stiles says almost hopefully. "Don't mess with me." it's the most vulnerable he has ever heard Stiles sound.
"I wouldn't do that." Stiles scoffs, "Okay, well not about this." They both laugh welcoming the release of stress that has been building up since the pool. "I'm just terrified of losing you, what we have. So if you want we can go to sleep and forget this conversation."
"No." Stiles says quickly, "I mean, I'm…. curious now… how do you…" Derek knows he's struggling but let's him finish his sentence. "how do you feel about me." Stiles scratches at his chin.
Derek looks back up at the ceiling finding it much less intimidating. "Promise not to hate me for what I say?"
"Nothing will change. I can't hate you."
Derek relaxes at that. "I care about you….a lot." Wow this is going to be a lot harder than he thought, he says as much.
Stiles laughs, "Yea Der, going to have to use your words on this one."
At the drop of his nickname he relaxes further. "You aren't just Scott's best friend. You are my best friend, I may not be yours, but you're mine. I can't talk to people"
"I know as much." Stiles chuckles.
"If you keep interrupting me I'm not going to tell you." Stiles nods then mimes zipping his lips, but then he lays the make believe key on Derek's chest tapping it twice for emphasis.
"Better." He clears his throat hand resting over the key Stiles gave him. "I have told you about my past, my insecurities, my dreams, and you never judged me… well not really...you do have a tendency to mock people." He sees Stiles smile out of the corner of his eye. "You are opinionated, which sometimes can be a pain in the ass, but refreshing any other time. I have never seen someone care so much about people the way you do. It's astonishing." Derek feels his chest tighten with all the things he loves about Stiles and starts to freak out. "I just love everything about you." he lays there quietly and Derek rolls over to look at Stiles to better gauge how he is taking this confession of his. He did ask for it after all. Derek leaps. "Sometimes… I wish we didn't have wristmates." he says disdainfully. Wristmates is a derogatory word for soulmates.
Stiles rolls over to face him. "Derek." He says trying to seek out his features in the dark. "What are you trying to tell me?" They stare at each other for a heartbeat or 12 then Derek finally whispers.
"I wish it was you."
Stiles' exhale catches him off guard, spreading all across his face smelling of coffee and toothpaste. Which eww, why would Stiles participate in either activity so close to each other. His thought is cut off when Stiles leans forward slowly, it still feels super fast for Derek, but he has no time to react, absolutely frozen to the spot. Then he kisses him. Soft, but firm. When Stiles breaks free and presses his forehead to Derek's, he asks, "Do you mean it?"
"Does this mean you-" Derek croaks but gets cut off.
"Do you mean it?" Stiles says hopefully but forcefully.
"More or less." Derek smirks and Stiles lunges in for another kiss. "You too?" Derek asks against demanding lips.
"yes. Yes. a thousand times yes. Now please stop talking and kiss me, you idiot!"
Derek does just that.
He throws himself forward latching onto Stiles bottom lip. Stiles runs his hand up Derek's stomach and over his ribs and Derek shudders. Who knew that was a thing?
Derek reaches forward taking Stiles cheek in his hand, he can do that now, and lightly tongues at his lower lip requesting permission Stiles immediately opens up breathing harshly. They explore each others mouths for what seems like eternity when Stiles pulls Derek closer, pulling their bodies flush. Derek can now feel searing hot warmth along his thigh, and it's not his. He moans pushing his thigh forward causing Stiles to whimper. That whimper may have been the most beautiful sound Derek has ever heard.
Stiles pulls Derek on top of him Making room for one thigh between his legs they continue their ministrations against each others mouths hands roaming all over. Derek's heart is about to beat right out of his chest. This is real. Stiles likes him. Stiles is willing to face the odds just to be with him.
Derek quickly loses track of time, lost in oblivion with Stiles being the only thing anchoring him to reality.
--
Stiles has to keep moving to believe this is actually happening. He keeps playing Derek's words over and over in his head. His confession. His wildest fucking dream, come to life. In the flesh. On top of him. Derek. Stiles runs his hands up Derek's back again rubbing the hard muscle there. Derek moans heavily against the corner of his mouth, apparently he likes the reminder this is real too. Stiles repeats the motion again. Derek grinds down on him mouthing at his jaw.
Stiles turns his head slightly, welcoming the oxygen he was previously not caring about depriving himself of. Derek grinds down on him and he does the same back to his thigh. Screw his wildest dreams. This is better.
Stiles grabs Derek's hair pulling him from his neck. He kisses him again harder than they have yet, demanding entrance. Derek fell in love with him for him. Derek fell in love with him. Wait.
Stiles freezes and Derek notices, "What's the matter?" He says out of breath. "Am I hurting you?" He shifts his weight.
"No." Stiles says quickly. Derek stares at him stroking his hair. "Are you just tired of being alone or…"
"What?" Derek chokes. "No!" he continue brushing his fingers through his hair, then tracing his eyebrows. "I wouldn't use you like that." He traces the bridge of his nose. "I-I love you, Stiles." Stiles freezes. He just said it. He totally just said it. "I-I mean, it's okay if you don't. I don't expect you-"
"Shut up." Stiles says holding his finger to Derek's swollen lips. "I-i have to show you something." Derek nods uncertainly. Stiles slowly pushes up against Derek's chest, and he rolls off of him easily, without argument.
Stiles stands up turning on the lamp, and chickening out last minute to take the mug to the bathroom and rinse it. "Just show him. Stop making excuses. He said it. Grow a pair. Jesus." He scolds himself in the bathroom mirror. When he comes back Derek is sitting on the edge of the bed looking up at him in the golden light, eyes worried, his other hand is tracing the mark.
Stiles walks over to stand in front of him. He leans down to kiss him again and Derek relaxes a little bit, any doubt he had disappearing. Stiles slowly starts to pull the sweater off. Derek Just stares at him, hand coming up to rest on his hips. Stiles sways forward into Derek's touch his head falling back as Derek takes one of Stiles' nipples into his mouth.
He flicks his tongue over the already sensitive nub and Stiles lets out a totally unplanned whine. Derek moves to the other one at that, replacing his mouth with his thumb. Stiles has to force himself to do as he was planning. But it just feels so good. Derek's hands sliding over his bare skin. Rubbing, caressing, grabbing, scratching. Stiles isn't sure if he could say his own name if he had to. Right, his name.
"Shchesneh" Stiles says breathily, "Shchesneh." He says solidly. He hasn't said his name since his mom died, but Derek needs to hear it.
Derek Stops and looks up at him. "God bless you?"
Stiles laughs, not the first time he heard that joke, but Derek genuinely looks concerned for such an odd sound to come from him.
"No." Stiles grabs Derek's left hand from his wrist. "Shchesneh." Derek Looks at his wrist with him. Face completely puzzled. "It's polish." Stiles says simply waiting for it to fall into place for Derek.
"Okayy…" Derek says.
"It means the fortunate one."
"You never told me you knew any polish." Derek says trying not to focus on the unknown soulmate on his wrist. "My mother was of polish descent, she was really invested in her heritage." Derek nods not getting it.
"I wish I could have met her." He says laying a kiss just above Stiles' heart.
"Derek!" Stiles all but yells because he really just wasn't getting it.
He looks up instantly with big eyes. "What?"
Stiles can't bring himself to say anything else but to brush his left hand through Derek's hair then hold it a few inches from his face then slowly pull it away so he could see if Derek caught on.
He did. His eyes are pinned to Stiles wrist hanging loosely at his side. "You?"
"Me." Stiles says trying to suppress a smile. Finally.
Derek looks like he can't tell whether or not to grab his wrist or his face first. He goes for the face, standing completely and pressing their bodies together firmly. Derek isn't kissing him. Isn't touching him inappropriately. He's hugging him. Just hugging him like his life depends on it. "I can keep you?" he finally, almost, whimpers.
Stiles just smiles pulling his head back and kissing Derek gently. Derek returns it in fervor, eyebrows scrunched together in desperation. When Derek's hand travel to his back and slip into the top of his pajama pants he groans and falls further against Derek. Derek takes that as a sign to up the ante. He picks Stiles up and throws him on the bed crawling on top of him.
"Please, don't take this the wrong way." Derek says nosing at Stiles collarbone, "But you are the biggest asshole I have ever met."
Stiles cant stop the giggles.
Derek sucks, most likely a hickey into his skin just below his collarbone, "you have just been dancing around me. Listening to me complain about Szzznesney" He struggles to say "and it's been you this whole damn time."
"Shchesneh." Stiles corrects easily. "You only wanted them to make you happy. Because it was determined. I needed you to love me first." Stiles says rubbing Derek's neck pulling him down for a kiss. He was never going to get enough of that.
Derek pulls away, "But you knew it was me from day one! How is this fair?"
"No" Stiles rolls him over, it's a feat in it's own, but Derek lets him. "For god knows how long I thought your name was Peter." Derek goes to interrupt him. Stiles covers his mouth. "You already had me. Before that day at the gas station, when I finally found out what your real name was." Derek stills. "I fell in love with you before I knew." Derek runs his hands up Stiles thighs. "I fell in love with You, Derek. Our banter, your heart, your face, your stupid car, your baseball card collection, the wrinkles in your nose when you actually smile. All of it. I just needed you to do the same." Stiles pauses clearing his throat. "For my mom. That bedtime story is one of the few things I have left of hers and I kinda wanted to keep her legacy alive, so to speak." Stiles kisses him again unable to hold back with the total look of adoration melting Derek's face. "Thank you."
Derek flips them over, "Stop talking and kiss me." he says smirking. Stiles notices how he leaves off the idiot part, and smiles wide breaking the kiss. That doesn't stop Derek though.
With both of their confessions out there they start losing themselves. There's thrusting and hickeys, and ass grabbing, hair pulling, back scratching. It's heaven. It's hot. It's sweaty.
"Take this off." Stiles says pulling at Derek's shirt. Derek sits up letting it be pulled off and Stiles falls on top of him and they slide against each others sweaty forms. Stiles is harder than he has ever been in his life.
He breaks another kiss and sucks Derek's earlobe into his mouth. "Fuck me." he moans at the same time Derek says "I need you inside me."
They both groan and their hips stutter once or twice against each other. "Wait, what?" Stiles blurts.
Stiles never thought he would get to top. Derek just seems like that guy, the alpha type.
"I need you to take me. To mark me." Derek says heavily, eyes blown wide, and Stiles has never seen such a thing of beauty. "Or you know I can do that for you. What ever you want. Literally. I will do whatever you want. Just please don't leave-" Stiles cuts him off with a kiss then starts nodding enthusiastically.
"Yea, I can do that. please." Derek whimpers thrusting up spreading his legs so Stiles can fall between them. Stiles pushes up on his hands looking at Derek's heaving chest, blown eyes, and tousled hair. "Jesus. You are beautiful."
Derek flushes a deeper shade and turns his head to kiss his own name on Stiles wrist.
Stiles picks up Derek's wrist finally getting to look closer at the marking of his own mane 'Szczesny'. the way the z's and y curl among the shading it almost looks like ivy on a wall. Stiles presses his lips to it feeling the pulse beneath it. He trails his lips up his arm sucking on the inside of Derek's elbow causing him to bite at his wrist in retaliation.
Derek reaches down to Stiles' waist and Stiles latches onto his lips. Derek slowly slides Stiles pajamas down. Stiles cannot see straight so he latches onto Derek's neck, the only thing he can consciously think about at this particular moment. The throbbing vein in Derek's neck just begging for attention.
Derek wraps a calloused hand around Stiles length and he bucks into it without thinking. He groans into his shoulder and Derek kisses his own shoulder in a way of comfort. "Stiles. Please."
Stiles slides backwards off the bed pulling Derek up with him mouthing at his chest working his way down to his pants line. He locks eyes with Derek's and slowly slides his pants down with his thumbs.
Derek's head falls back. "Stiles." Stiles blinks kissing at Derek's hips feeling the tip of Derek's erection slide against his chin. Derek hisses "Stiles. I-"
"I know." Stiles stands up pushing Derek back down then removes both of their pants from their ankles. He follows Derek onto the bed and breathes hotly over Derek's pink, perfect, cock. Stiles hadn't even looked at it until now. Perfect doesn't even do it justice. He needs that inside of him. Now.
No. Derek needs him right now, they can get to that later. Stiles can wait. He's waited this long right? he dares a glance upward and Derek looks wrecked. I did that, he thinks to himself. He breathes over Derek's cock again and it twitches below him. "Please" Derek whimpers and Stiles just can't torture him any longer. He skips the foreplay and just wrapps his lips around the head. He sucks Gently so as not to overwhelm Derek. He swirls his tongue around the head letting Derek adjust. Going by the sounds Derek makes above him with absolutely no care about neighboring rooms overhearing, he's not adjusting any time soon. Stiles slowly slides his mouth down as far as he can go.
"Dammit, Stiles."
He smiles to himself. Stiles has been dreaming about this forever, and it does not disappoint.
He promises himself that he will make this good for Derek. If it's the last thing he does.
--
Derek's eyes are rolling into the back of his head. Stiles loves him. Stiles want's to be with him. Stiles has just been waiting for him to get over his own internal drama. Stiles… is his. Derek cries out in bliss. By the way Stiles moans around his dick, Derek knows he thinks it was because of his mouth. Which it is, but mostly just the fact that Stiles is his. Derek will never let him go for as long as he shall live.
He laughs at that, already thinking in terms of marriage, and Stiles head pops up, "What's so funny? My mouth is literally hoovering at your dick, and you're laughing at me?" Stiles says climbing up straddling him. "What kinda shit is that, Derek?" He punctuates by pinning his wrists on either side of his head.
Derek knows he isn't really upset. Obviously. But he still wants to apologize. "I was just thinking about--i'm sorry." Derek says not being able to think as Stiles grinds down on top of him. "Please don't stop."
"Never." Stiles smiles kissing him softly. Derek is thrown by the gentle caress on his face and the rough grinding below. When he lets out another broken whine Stiles goes to his throat sucking a dark mark into his flesh, surely.
Derek spreads his legs begging Stiles To fall between, he needs this. Now. No Yesterday! But Stiles is dragging it out slow. "Stiles." He breathes almost lost to reality altogether, the only thing keeping him here is Stiles. "Please." he groans pulling Stiles hair to make him face him.
"I don't have anything." Stiles admits ducking his head away.
"It's okay. I'm clean." Derek rushes spreading his legs further. Practically presenting himself on a platter.
"No, Derek." Stiles says petting his face, "I don't have any lube."
His heart sinks. His mind starts racing for where lotion might be when he feels something nudge at his entrance. "Urgh, Stiles if you do not--right now-- I am going to rip your throat out. With my teeth." Stiles laughs high and childish, then he feels a very slick finger poke it's way inside. "You little sh--ahh" Stiles finger pushes past the knuckle. Stiles laughs from deep in his chest.
"Oh Derek. Do you seriously believe I don't go everywhere with a bottle of lube?" He curls his finger searching for the little patch of nerves. "Do you really think I go a day without touching myself?" He says huskily into his ear. "Without thinking of you while I have a finger or two massaging," Derek keens at the feeling of Stiles finally finding his prostate, "yea you know what spot I'm talking about." He rubs it a few more times then skirts around it. "What makes you think" he whispers now in Derek's ear, "that I wouldn't bring some with me here, knowing I am going to be sharing a bed with you." He bites his ear taking it into his mouth and if Derek's body wasn't already lit up like a fucking Christmas tree, it was now.
He makes noises that could rival a porn star, sounds he never thought he would produce, and rakes his fingers down Stiles back. Doing anything and everything to bring them as close as possible. How is he so good at this?
Just when he is about to ask as much Stiles pushes in a second finger. It burns a little, but Stiles goes slow. It's barely a dull ache and with Stiles' cooing encouragement into his ear and sucking his way across his neck and shoulders, Derek soon finds himself pushing back against his hand. "Stiles, God. Please!" he cries.
"Shhhh…" he pets his hair, eyes wide and loving. "I got you Derek. Just one more."At that he pushes in a third finger. And God, does it burn. Derek sees stars. "Jesus. You look so beautiful Derek. So perfect." Derek opens his eyes at that. "Please tell me I can keep you." Derek nods when his throat fails to make any other sounds than groans and whimpers.
Stiles removes his fingers and Derek cringes at the sudden loss. Stiles is back in a heartbeat fingers sliding in effortlessly with more lube. He climbs further between his legs. Stiles just freezes looking down at him in wonder. Like he's asking permission, afraid he's breaking some unspoken rule. "Just fucking--Stiles." He pulls him down in a kiss and finally he feels Stiles line up and slowly press in. He wants to give Stiles everything he has to offer. He would never even consider this with another person. Just Stiles.
Neither of them breathe. They just keep their faces mashed together as Stiles inches his way in. When he feels him bottom out he opens his eyes half way to see Stiles mouth agape, eyes half lidded in lust and wonder, and Derek knows nothing will ever compare to this moment. Nothing.
--
Seeing Derek so strung out on lust drives Stiles up the wall. How he is managing to come off so cool and collected, and that dirty talk? Where the hell did that come from?! All he knows is he wants to make this good for Derek and he's almost 100% positive he's already 3 quarters there.
He slowly pulls out causing Derek to finally let out the breath he had been holding since he had entered. He cranes his head down to take a nipple into his mouth and Derek laces his fingers in his hair. When his head pulls up Derek is nodding slightly shifting backwards, like he's getting impatient. Stiles captures his mouth again and slowly slides in again but doesn't stop.
They develop a rhythm with Derek pushing back in time with his thrusts. Derek's head keeps falling backwards as he tries to hold in his pleasure. Every muscle it seems is taut, like any moment he's going to fall over the edge. Stiles feels just as close hearing the soft puffs of breath passing Derek's slack breath.
Stiles needs him closer, he reaches one arm under his lower back pulling up, angling Derek's hips and trapping his dick between their stomachs. Derek's hands shoot out to the side and he almost growls with pleasure. Stiles has never been so close in his life. Apparently he just found Derek's spot again and he will be damned if he doesn't hit it on every stroke. He will not come before Derek. He slams into him hard once and Derek locks eyes with him almost daring him to do it again so he does, on every other stroke.
Derek can't seem to decide whether to sit up or lay down. Grab his back or the sheets. Kiss him or bite his own lips. Wrap his legs around him or dig them into the mattress.
Stiles makes sure to curl his hips more than necessary to provide as much friction to Derek's leaking cock making a mess between them.
With the sounds Derek is making Stiles just isn't going to make it. "Der-Derek. I can-i'm tryi- i can't-" he hisses barely holding back hips stuttering below him.
Just as Stiles starts thinking he has ruined everything Derek is spasming below him. Biting his lip, and pulling Stiles down for a long messy kiss as they both come down.
"Don't leave me. Please." Derek says softly against the top of his head.
Stiles curls into him, Derek keeps saying that. "Derek. I am not going anywhere. I promise. Especially not after that." He chuckles weakly. Any and all energy drained. Damn that was hard work. But totally worth it.
Derek laughs and tightens his arm around him, sighing contently.
"5 more minutes. " Stiles breathes eyes already heavy, "and I'll get us something to clean up with."
--
The next thing he knows he's opening his eyes to sunlight filtering in through the curtains. Shit. They have to be a mess. He never cleaned them off. He starts to stretch and realizes Derek is pressed along his backside with his arms around his front. When he looks down he can see Derek's thumb resting over his mark. Derek must have fallen asleep tracing it with his thumb and Stiles wasn't even awake for it. Then there is a soft kiss to his hairline.
"Good morning." He feels the sleep filled rumble against his back, and that's when he realizes they are both clean. Derek must have done it while he was sleeping. Jesus, he must have been knocked the fuck out!
Stiles smiles pushing back, "good night?"
Derek sucks on his shoulder, and he stretches his neck to the side allowing him better access. "Earth shattering." Derek says roughly.
Stiles dick twitches at that. Well hello there. He rubs back feeling Derek's length against his backside. "Plan on returning the favor?" Stiles asks reaching back and grabbing Derek's ass. Derek growls reaching a hand down in front of him.
"God, I love you." Derek says biting his ear, all aggression gone. Just soft careful touches.
Funny. Only hours ago Stiles would have laughed in the face of anyone who said Derek would fall for him without seeing the mark. Against all odds. In a world where true love was sparse and everything was planned out. Derek fell in love with him. He silently thanked his mother and father for giving him hope, and prays he did them proud. Then he comes back down, realizing what Derek said in his ear.
"You can just call me Stiles."
--End--
Afterword
End Notes
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