A/N: I promised, and now I'm delivering. *heart eyes* Enjoy!
Stiles' eyes darted to the clock over the mantel for the fifth time in the past three minutes. It was nearing eight at night and he was anxious because Derek had yet to come home. Stiles was afraid he'd rebelled against their soulmate bond entirely by going out and hooking up with someone else. He wouldn't blame the guy, honestly, but all he wanted was an opportunity to apologize. To try to make it right. He didn't know if it was possible, but no one could say he didn't at least stand up and fight for what he wanted.
His gaze flickered back to the TV, where an old episode of Love It or List It was on. Derek always used to tease him for watching HGTV, but then one day he'd looked up from where he was doing homework at the dining room table and started complaining about the house David was showing, declaring that it wasn't at all what the homeowners were looking for, and Stiles had been merciless in his mockery. After that, HGTV was one of their "we never talk about this" guilty pleasures, with Love It or List It being one of their favorites.
Stiles had been "watching" the marathon for the past four hours, ever since he decided to hell with it, he was going to go to Derek's apartment and do everything he could, including begging if he had to, to get Derek to at least listen to him. When he'd arrived and found Derek gone, he'd settled in to wait for him. Four hours later, however, he was ready to crawl out of his skin. His knee was bouncing, his heart thudding, and he had all these words crawling up his throat, ready to spill out. There just wasn't anyone to spill them to.
And then the sound of the key inserting into the lock broke into his thoughts, and he felt like he was going to throw up.
When Derek opened his apartment door, Stiles leaped up off the couch and Derek took a step back in surprise. "What the hell are you doing here?" he managed, and Stiles dove in.
"I'm so fucking sorry, Derek. You can't even begin to understand how fucking sorry I am," he pleaded, the words gushing forth. "I never meant to do any of this, I never meant to hurt you. I know this is all my fault and I'm a fucking idiot, I can't even believe it never once occurred to me to be like, 'Hey, you know my first name isn't actually Stiles, right, I mean, who names their kid Stiles?' Except for my parents fucking named me Mstislav, which, seriously? Is there any worse way to tell your kid you want him to get his ass beat than by naming him something completely fucking unpronounceable from the old country when you're in, y'know, yuppie California?"
Derek blinked against his tirade. "Stiles," he began, but Stiles held a hand up, begging with his eyes to be able to finish, and Derek closed his mouth again.
"Derek, I love you more than I've ever known I could love anyone. I loathe the fact that I've hurt you so many times, and you keep coming back and trusting me and I keep fucking it up. I have failed you over and over and you have every right to hate me and want me out of your life forever, but, please. Just give me one more chance? I promise I'll never make you feel weird about it again, I won't ask you to love me back. But we are soulmates, and it will wreck both of us if we can't be in each other's lives somehow." He stopped, taking a deep breath as Derek looked on in-wait, was that amusement? A little bit of fondness seeping through? "Will you forgive me for breaking your heart repeatedly?"
Instead of answering, Derek shrugged off his jacket, tossing it on the dining room table along with his keys and cell phone. "You mind if we move this to the couch?" he asked dryly, and Stiles flushed, realizing Derek was still standing on the rug in the entryway.
"Yeah, yeah." He gestured with a wild wave of his hand toward the living room, following Derek in as he sat down and biting his lip while he tried to figure out where to sit. When Derek patted the couch beside him he breathed a sigh of relief.
They sat quietly for a few moments, Stiles practically vibrating with anxiety while Derek studied the hands splayed out over his thighs contemplatively. "I went to Bean Scene after I left class," he said quietly. "I ran into Lydia there. She explained everything." Stiles blinked, then nodded. It was helpful for him to already know everything, but it made him feel guilty that Derek had had to hear it from someone else. "I was still really angry, even after."
Stiles' face fell, and Derek's expression melted into something soft, searching, and wrecked. "And then she reminded me of the thing that had somehow slipped my mind in all the mental chaos. We're soulmates, and we love each other. I've spent most of the last few hours thinking about what that means. I even called Laura to ask her advice." He grinned. "You should have heard the shriek of happiness she let out when I told her. I'm honestly surprised you didn't hear her all the way from New York."
Derek paused again, swallowing. "The conclusion that I came to is, we'll figure this out. Nothing you've done is unforgivable, and I know you've never meant to hurt me. We just haven't communicated for shit and both of us were being dumbasses. We can move past this. And the thing is, we'll never stop hurting each other because that's what happens when you love someone so deeply. They have power over you and they can hurt you even when they don't mean to, or realize they're doing it. So we'll just keep doing what we were doing. We'll figure it out. We'll just keep figuring it out."
Stiles had stopped breathing about a split-second after Derek dropped the first "L" bomb. "You love me?" he questioned on an explosive exhale, and Derek smiled.
"I do," he breathed, and then Stiles was scrambling into his lap, thighs bracketing Derek's, hands cupping his jaw as he leaned in. Derek tipped his head up, accepting the kiss and then wrapping his fingers around the back of Stiles' neck, pulling him in tighter, and Stiles sighed against his mouth.
"I love you so much. So fucking much," he whispered, nipping at Derek's lips, then tracing the tip of his tongue over the marks, soothing them. His hands slid around to the back of Derek's neck, playing with the hair at the nape before he realized something. Pulling back from Derek's seeking mouth, he frowned. "Your hair is really short."
Derek beamed. "I cut it."
"But you never cut it this short," Stiles objected, mystified.
"I wanted to finally show my soul mark off," Derek admitted shyly, and all at once he remembered. Derek kept it long because he didn't want anyone to see his soul mark. Stiles' fingers brushed lightly over the back of Derek's neck as he reached up to kiss him again. "Want to see it?" he murmured against Stiles' lips, and yes, yes he did.
Stiles squirmed off of Derek's lap so he could twist on the couch, presenting his back, and Stiles' heart lurched. There, right under the buzzed line of Derek's hair, were the initials MS curling in sprawling, inky black. Without thought, his fingers lifted to trace the letters reverently. "You're mine," he choked out, tears welling in his eyes as the reality hit him in a way it had yet to do. His hand clenched over the curve where Derek's neck met his shoulder, squeezing. "You're mine."
"We're each other's," Derek corrected him, voice velvet-soft. "For the rest of our lives."
Stiles nearly whimpered at the realization that this was real. This was forever. When Derek shifted back to face him, one hand lifting so his thumb could gently caress Stiles' lower lip, he was lost. He turned his face into Derek's hand, nuzzling against him, pressing kisses into his palm. "I'm going to spend every minute of that time making up for the pain I put us both through."
"It's not entirely your fault," Derek conceded, continuing to swipe this thumb reverently over Stiles' lip. "I never thought to ask if Stiles was a nickname. I mean, really, Stiles as a first name?"
Stiles made a face at him. "It's not like my real name is better. As a matter of fact it's worse, much worse, hence why 'Stiles' seemed like a much better choice. Clearly, my parents weren't brainchildren when it came to naming."
Derek leaned in, replacing his thumb with his lips and brushing them over Stiles', then pressing a little more firmly and sliding one arm around Stiles' waist. "It's over," he breathed against Stiles' mouth between kisses. "Everything that happened before just made us stronger. It taught us how to fight for each other. Don't discount it."
"You're going to say something sappy and inspiring about how we can't appreciate joy without having known what it was to suffer, aren't you?" Stiles teased, and Derek glowered at him in a way that told Stiles he'd been right on the money. "I know it's true," Stiles admitted quietly. "It still doesn't make me feel any less guilty. I fucked both of us up so bad, Der."
"Stiles." Derek tugged him in, moving so that Stiles was in his lap and straddling his thighs. "There have been so many times I was angry at you to the point that I thought about walking away, but I never could. I know you, Stiles. I knew you never meant to hurt either one of us, and I knew I loved you too much to let you go over it. We each had our own ways of dealing with what we were going through, and it wasn't easy for either one of us. We're past that now. Can you please forgive yourself so we can be happy?"
Stiles stared at him wonderingly. Derek wasn't normally one for long speeches, and when he did get into one, it was always emotional and impassioned. Stiles loved watching his face as he spoke so fervently. Now was not an exception. "If that's what it takes," he agreed, laying his arms over Derek's shoulders and cupping the back of his neck with one large hand. He dipped his head as Derek read his mind, tilting his own face up to accept the kiss Stiles dropped onto his lips. "Now can we stop talking? There are other things I'd rather we be doing."
Derek grinned up at him, happiness wreathing his face. "Yes. Absolutely."
A beaming smile spread across Stiles' face and he leaned in again, his lips sliding over Derek's tantalizingly until they settled firmly upon him, and Derek opened up under him like a flower in bloom. The taste of his tongue on Stiles' was heady, and he tightened his arms around Derek's neck as they chased each other's lips. Stiles licked into Derek's mouth and then pulled back teasingly, and Derek hauled him back in without losing a beat. Derek broke the kiss to breathe, and Stiles inhaled quickly before chasing his movements and sealing their mouths together once more.
Derek's arms twined around his back and brought him in tighter, their bodies all but melding together. Stiles could feel the press of Derek's erection between his thighs, rubbing up against his own hard length. A broken whine burst from his throat. "Not that I don't like the kissing, but I've been fantasizing about having you inside me for months now," he rasped out. "Can we make that a reality?"
A low groan rumbled in Derek's throat. "God. Yes."
Stiles didn't hesitate. He hauled himself off Derek's lap, eyes greedily taking in the bulge of Derek's jeans where he strained against the denim, before bounding toward the bedroom. Clothes dropped off him at intervals until he was nearly hopping, trying to divest himself of his pants without tripping and braining himself on the wall, and he heard Derek's chuckle behind him. "If you have time to laugh, you're not moving fast enough!" he called out over his shoulder, and didn't regret his words at all when Derek barreled into him from behind, practically tackling them both onto the bed.
"What was that you said about not moving fast enough?" Derek teased, one eyebrow arched in an inquisitive smirk.
Stiles grinned mischievously. "It worked, didn't it?" he remarked. "You moved that glorious ass."
"Speaking of asses." Derek landed one large palm on Stiles' ass. Fire shot through his body from his toes to his hairline, and Derek watched his reaction knowingly. "You like being spanked?" he murmured, and Stiles couldn't answer, having nearly swallowed his tongue at the crack of heat on his bare ass, so he just nodded eagerly. Derek's hand swatted against him once more, and Stiles looked down and back to see the spread of pink across his cheeks.
"My dick is hard enough to break concrete right now," he groaned, and Derek grinned wickedly before his palm connected with the round firmness of Stiles' ass twice more in quick succession. "Jesus, Der, do you want me to come before we even get started?"
Derek soothed his hand over the reddened skin before leaning in to brush his lips against Stiles' spine, the tip of his tongue trailing over the pronounced ridges until he was at Stiles' neck, tasting the slightly salty skin of his nape. "You're going to come more than once tonight, I promise."
"I believe you," Stiles sighed, rolling so he was on his back, Derek hovering over him and gazing down at him fondly. His breath felt trapped in his throat at the tenderness in Derek's expression. "I love you. I want to stay right here, with you, for the rest of my life."
The look that flitted across Derek's face made his chest ache; it was so full of love and wonder and desire that Stiles had a hard time believing he could be so blessed. "You think we'll be able to stay in bed for the rest of our lives?" Derek asked after a pause, the love morphing into amusement as he visibly fought to not laugh.
Stiles hummed in consideration. "I don't know, I think it might be possible." He made grabby hands at Derek, who chuckled and lowered himself so that he and Stiles were pressed chest to chest, hips to hips, thighs to thighs, and Stiles expelled a soft grunt both from the weight of Derek's body, and the weight of his desire. He tried to buck his hips up a little, just to rub his straining cock against Derek's, but Derek had him pinned so thoroughly he could hardly move. "Are you trying to suffocate me before you fuck me?" he asked, breathless. "Because I didn't know you had an asphyxiation kink."
The corners of Derek's eyes crinkled softly. "I don't. I have a 'looking at you and touching you as much as I can' kink."
Stiles squirmed underneath him, and there, there was that friction between their cocks he'd been looking for. "You know you could touch me a lot more than you've been doing, right?"
Derek shifted, scooting down the bed until his lips were a hairsbreadth from Stiles' cock. "Like here? Do you want me to touch you here?" he whispered, and that was enough to close the gap between them, and yes, yes, that was Derek's mouth sliding over the tip of his cock.
"I don't know, maybe I've been too subtle about what I want," he whimpered, and he could feel Derek's shoulders shake in mirth around him.
He lost the ability to form words when Derek all but inhaled him, sucking Stiles' cock straight back into his throat as far as it could go without Derek gagging or choking. The warmth of Derek's fingers closed in a tight fist around the base of his erection had him thrusting up, trying to fuck himself into that vice-like grip, but Derek held him down firmly with the other hand on his hip. "Behave," Derek warned sternly after coming up for air, and Stiles gaped at him. This was a new look on his friend-boyfriend-soulmate, and he was more than happy to oblige him.
"Where was this domineering behavior last time?" Stiles choked out, and Derek smiled at him darkly.
"It was always there, but I wanted you to fuck me into oblivion," he explained, voice throaty, and Stiles nearly came right then. "Now it's my turn."
Stiles had to grab fistfuls of the sheets to anchor himself, to restrain his hips from coming up off the bed the way he wanted to so desperately. He wanted to fuck into Derek's mouth, but he also wanted to let Derek do whatever the hell he wanted to him. Which he was thankful for when Derek pulled off of his cock with an obscenely wet pop, only to lower his mouth back down to Stiles' balls. "You have a thing for my nuts," Stiles observed on a harsh pant, and Derek merely hummed against him. "Fuck!" he shouted, gritting his teeth against the need to buck upward, which would likely cause permanent damage to his boys.
"Are you okay?" Derek asked, pulling away and looking extremely self-satisfied.
"No," Stiles pouted, and the concern that overwhelmed Derek's expression made him feel slightly guilty. "Get up here." Without hesitation, Derek shifted until he was stretched out alongside Stiles, and Stiles smiled in triumph when he flipped over, pushing Derek onto his back and straddling him. "You're so easy."
Instead of answering, Derek crossed his arms behind his head and lay back, causing his torso to stretch and the lines of his muscles to grow taut. "What are you going to do with me now that you have me where you want me?" he asked, the tone of innocence clashing with the dark, hungry gaze he leveled at Stiles.
"This." Stiles dropped to his elbows, wiggling so he could settle in comfortably between Derek's thighs, and spread his cheeks apart. Derek bit off a strangled oath when Stiles' mouth descended between them, his tongue flickering out to trace the rim of Derek's hole. Stiles didn't fail to notice that his cock jumped, clear fluid leaking from the tip, and he was torn between wanting to continue with what he was doing and to stretch up to lick the precome away.
Derek answered the question for him when he reached down to circle his own erection with his fingers, jacking himself loosely and thumbing at the head of his cock, smearing the precome over it. The greed in Stiles' gaze was apparently evident, as Derek's lips twitched and he held out his his hand. Before he could withdraw, Stiles lifted himself up and sucked Derek's thumb into his mouth, licking at the sharp, tangy burst of flavor. Derek groaned hoarsely as Stiles lapped at his thumb, curling his tongue around it and sucking hard until the taste of precome was just a memory.
Slowly, Derek withdrew his thumb from Stiles' mouth, and Stiles took that as permission to resume what he'd been doing. He kept his gaze on Derek's blown-out pupils while he lowered back down to press his tongue into Derek's tight hole, spreading his rim out with each thrust until he was wet and a little loose. Stiles remembered fucking into him with his cock instead of his tongue; the reminder made him ache and he wondered if Derek would be okay with him doing that on a regular basis, or if he preferred to top more often than not.
"Why are you stopping?" Derek rasped above him, and Stiles blinked, not realizing he had.
"I was just wondering if you'd ever let me replay That Night," he confessed, cheeks heating. Funny, having his tongue in Derek's ass felt as natural as breathing, but asking if he'd rather top or bottom was enough to make Stiles shy.
Another spurt of precome dribbled from the head of Derek's cock. "You liked fucking me?" he growled out, and Stiles took that to mean yes, he'd be okay with doing that again. He nodded, biting his lip and hoping not to appear overeager. "You want to know if I'm okay with letting you fuck me again, or was that just a one-time thing?"
Stiles blinked, surprised even though he knew he shouldn't be. Derek simply understood him, and always had. "I want to fuck you, Stiles. I want to fuck you a lot. But that sure as hell doesn't mean I don't want you to fuck me." Stiles' brow furrowed as he tried to follow all the negatives. "I want you to fuck me," Derek clarified, voice breaking. "I loved having you inside me. I want that." His gaze darkened; his voice dropped into a lower register. "But right now, I want to feel you around me, not in me."
It was a very clear command, and Stiles lifted himself off the foot of the bed, twisting until he was straddling Derek's chest. His cock was inches from Derek's mouth, and he eyed it hungrily as Stiles reached over him and into the nightstand for the lube. Derek's eyes fastened sharply on the bottle of lube, which was the only thing Stiles held. "No condom?"
He hesitated for a moment, uncertain if Derek would be okay with it. "We're soulmates. We'll never do this with anyone else again," he began, and Derek lifted a hand, smoothing the tip of his finger over Stiles' lower lip.
"I'm clean," he swore. "I haven't been with anyone since before I met you, and I've been tested since."
Stiles smiled shyly. "Me too."
Derek took the lube from him, squeezing a generous amount onto his fingertips, rubbing them together to warm it. "Closer," he demanded gruffly, and Stiles reached out for the headboard as he shuffled his knees. His cock was right in front of Derek's lips, and he didn't hesitate to draw it back into his mouth as his fingers found Stiles' entrance. Stiles let out a high, keening sound when Derek began working his fingers in, while simultaneously letting the tip of his tongue flirt with the slit in the head of Stiles' cock and collecting the precome that had begun to spill over. Stiles couldn't decide if he wanted to thrust forward into Derek's mouth or fuck himself backward onto Derek's fingers.
Derek didn't let him do either, however. He thrust his fingers into Stiles' ass, working him with first one, then two, until he could add a third. Stiles could feel the precome weeping from his cock the longer Derek fingered him, but Derek happily licked him clean with every new spurt or dribble.
"I need you inside me," Stiles breathed out shakily. He was already on the verge and he wanted to come on Derek's cock, not in his mouth. He could feel that he was already loose, thoroughly fingered open, and he needed to fill that aching emptiness.
Derek's hands on his hips guided him backward, hovering over Derek's erection. "I love you, Stiles," Derek breathed, and Stiles felt his throat close up when he saw the tears shimmering on Derek's lashes. With a slight tug, Derek pulled him down until the head of his cock was pressing against Stiles' hole, and then he was pushing gently inside.
Letting out a long, low groan, Stiles eased himself down a little at a time, taking in one inch, then two, holding himself still, sliding up a little, then back down, until he was fully seated on Derek's cock, his ass flush against Derek's hips. He felt, for the first time in his life, whole. Complete. This was where he was meant to be, and always had been. He tilted his hips, feeling Derek press deeper into him, and he swallowed the butterflies that swarmed in his stomach, concentrating instead on the full, aching pressure in his ass and the insistent need of his erection.
"God," he breathed. "This… I never knew it could be like this."
"We knew right from the start it was supposed to be us," Derek said softly. "We just didn't listen."
Stiles dropped his head, ashamed. "I didn't listen."
"Stiles." The urgency in Derek's voice had him peering up through lowered lashes. "We both made mistakes. I assumed too much, and I didn't ask enough. I didn't push when I knew I should have. You were too scared to let yourself have what you knew you wanted because it wasn't in the way you thought you were supposed to get it. It's okay. We're here now. We have each other. And we'll have decades to laugh about how fucking stupid we both were. Okay?" His voice had gentled and Stiles could feel tears brimming. "I. Love. You. And I forgive you."
The raw emotion in the fathomless depths of the green-golden eyes watching him so closely, so carefully, had the tears spilling over. "Jesus, Derek, I love you so much. I love you for putting up with my shit, and for never giving up on me. I love you for believing in me. I love you for knowing how much I love you and knowing everything I ever did that hurt both of us was because I loved you too much, and it was tearing me apart because I didn't think I was supposed to. I love you for giving me the chance to discover the truth, and accepting me once I had when you had no reason to forgive me, ever. I love you for everything you are, and everything you will be. I love you, Derek. I love you for forever."
Stiles laughed through his tears when Derek surged up to frantically fuse their mouths together, desperate and hot and seeking, and he gasped into Derek's when the motion drove his cock harder into Stiles' body. "Oh God," he moaned. "Can we skip the rest of the emotional, heartfelt declarations and just get to the part where you fuck me until I can't walk?"
"Gladly," Derek groaned, reclining back onto the pillows and lifting Stiles up with a firm grip on his hips. Their gazes locked and Stiles' lips parted in a whimper when Derek pulled him back down while slamming his own hips upward, pounding himself forcefully into Stiles.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck!" Stiles cried, bracing his palms on Derek's chest as he worked his hips, taking each of Derek's thrusts as a shudder of complete and total bliss wracked his body. His cock slapped Derek's stomach with every bounce, the precome still flowing and smearing on his taut skin. "Jesus, Derek, I'm not going to last!"
"Don't want you to," Derek grunted, continuing to drive up into Stiles' ass with single-minded determination. "I want you to come all over me so we can rest up, because next time, I'm going to take you slowly and thoroughly, until you come apart at the seams and you're too sated to move."
Stiles believed he'd do exactly that. He leaned back, changing the angle so that Derek's cock hit squarely into his prostate, and stars burst over his eyes, blinding him momentarily. "Fuck, Derek, I'm going to come," he gritted out, and Derek's fingers circled his achingly red erection, tugging upward and twisting unrelentingly. Stiles came with a sharp, sobbing cry, his release jetting all across Derek's stomach and abs.
Derek growled as he held tighter to Stiles' hips, fingers digging in so hard there were sure to be bruises left behind for the next several days. "God, Stiles," he panted, and Stiles watched in awe as his face twisted in a grimace of pleasure. "I'm, fuck, I'm gonna-!" Before he could even finish his sentence he was arching up, back bowing off the bed as he burst, coming in waves and filling Stiles with his come.
Stiles collapsed onto Derek's chest, both of them panting for breath as they came down from their orgasm highs. Derek's arms came up around Stiles, holding him close, and Stiles' face nuzzled into the curve of Derek's neck. "You sure there's going to be a round two?" Stiles mumbled, his words muffled by the sweat-slicked skin under his lips, and a laugh rumbled up out of Derek's chest. The vibrations thrummed through Stiles and he sighed, reveling in the feeling of completeness overtaking him.
"We're young," Derek promised, pressing fleeting kisses to Stiles' shoulder and ear and the top of his head, despite his hair being sweaty. "We'll recover. And then I'll take you apart, inch by inch, with slow breaths and deep kisses."
"Can I take a nap first?" Stiles asked, already feeling his eyelids droop. It had been a long, emotionally and physically taxing day. He needed a respite before diving back in.
The fingers on his back stroked over his spine lazily, tracing the lithe muscles curving off of it. "Are you going to be here when I wake up?" he asked, though his voice was teasing, carefree.
"Always," Stiles sighed, and he closed his eyes, and slept.
A/N 2: The next chapter is more of an epilogue than an actual chapter. If I hadn't already promised 14 chapters, this might have been the end, but since it's been planned at 14 since I started posting, I decided to make the last one a wrap-up chapter.