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Derek knows he’s an instathot.
He doesn’t find the word insulting, he’s actually kind of proud of the title if he’s really being honest. Derek’s happy and comfortable in his skin so why shouldn’t he capture that feeling? He’s one in a few billion bodies on the internet and he’s not under any illusions that he’s better than the rest, but he’s gained a decent enough following with his content. It starts with a few videos of him at the gym, his shorts somewhat smaller than necessary to show off the definition in his thighs. And maybe a bit of his ass too. Then there’s a few shots of him stretched out on one of his patio chairs with the sun shining perfectly on his shirtless torso. The swell of his pecs looks immaculate. It’s fun and harmless and the attention doesn’t hurt on lonely nights when he’s curled up on the couch with a glass of wine.
The occasional flirting is harmless, Derek smiles and sends a few replies but lets things fizzle out casually and fills his time with work and the gym and mothering his rescue pit, Cheep. He blushes at a small number of the more sordid messages he gets now and then but brushes them off just as easily, nothing tempting enough to warrant a response.
Except for one.
He’s sprawled out in bed with a book on a Saturday night, soft snores filtering from the foot of the bed where Cheep dozes lazily. Derek rubs his eyes and sets his book aside, yawning while he squints at the time on his phone. 2:05 AM . He scrolls through tik tok for a bit when an insta message flashes at the top of the screen.
You two look a bit lonely in that big bed.
The message confuses him for a second and Derek opens it instantly, brow quirked. It’s a reply to his story from a few hours ago, a picture aimed from above his head that starts at his slightly pouty lips and ends with Cheep’s sleeping face. His threadbare grey t-shirt shows off the definition in his arms and the soft, muted tie dye sweats he’s wearing hug his thighs just a bit. He looks soft and cozy and he smiles at the image when he notices that the sender is typing.
He clicks on the profile, gives them a minute to think, and scrolls through the pictures, greedier with each swipe of his thumb. Stiles the bio reads, that’s it, and he thinks it’s probably the person’s name. The first picture is a selfie of a man and a cat. His eyes remind Derek of whiskey, Autumn, and warmth. His skin looks soft and milky, but his cheeks are flushed and a few scattered moles dot his cheeks along with a gentle hint of freckles along the bridge of his nose. His smile is wide and infectious.
The rest of the photos are a mix of cat photos, artfully angled coffee cups surrounded by houseplants, and the occasional friend group shots. He thumbs over a full body photo and his eyes linger on the multitude of tattoos covering Stiles’ arms. He wonders how far down they go.
Derek bites his lip and tears himself from scrolling through the end of the profile. There’s time for that later. He swipes back to the message thread and finds another reply.
Room for two more?
Beneath it is a pic of Stiles’ own bed and he’s mirroring Derek’s pose. The black cat from before is curled up on his chest and his plush, pink lips are curved into a soft smile. He looks tall and gracefully muscled from what Derek can see. And Derek can see most of him. Stiles is wearing a black t-shirt and a pair of grey sweat shorts that have begun to ride up his thighs. Said thighs are toned, tattoos dotting the pale skin below the hem and Derek can’t look away. Against his left thigh is the unmistakable bulge of a dickprint and it’s…impressive. It doesn’t feel overtly sexual, Derek thinks, Stiles isn’t hard and it isn’t exactly staring back at him, but it’s there and it brings a gentle flush to his cheeks.
He tries to think of something witty to come back with but he’s drawing a blank, completely disarmed by the heat in his chest and instead he sends the first thing he can think of.
Derek: I don’t think Cheep has ever met a cat before.
Stiles: Cheep? That’s adorable.
Tony was practically raised with wolves. He’s as easy going for a cat as it gets.
what are you reading?
Derek pauses. No one has asked him that before. He’d honestly forgotten his book was even in that photo.
Derek: a court of thorns and roses
Stiles: oof
there’s so many things i could say but i don’t know how far you are
i need you to be done like right now
Derek: no spoilers!
i’m almost done
i’m obsessed and should probably order the whole series tbh
Stiles: you could come borrow my set
It’s innocent and it’s not. An invitation that Derek finds himself wanting to accept right away. Not just that he could borrow the books, but that he could come get them. Probably from Stiles’ apartment. And probably get into some trouble while he’s there. And that’s exactly what he wants. He plays it a bit cool, stranger danger and all, and leaves the invitation open for the moment.
Derek: i might just take you up on that
Stiles: def let me know when you finish. i have the entire series.
They flirt over the course of a few days. Derek goes to work and stares at his computer and takes a break to grin at his phone every so often in the break room. He learns that Stiles owns a house on the outskirts of Beacon Hills, he has chickens and two goats and an obscene amount of plants both inside and out. He’s thirty-one, six years older than Derek, owns the coffee shop and bookstore on main street and spends most of his time reading, smoking weed, and tending to his animals.
Stiles is smart and witty and he drops a few innuendoes here and there that have Derek practically panting for it. He just knows Stiles is good with his hands, he has to be. And that mouth? Sinful. He’d be a fool not to give it a shot. Something casual could be fun after the lengthy dry spell he’s had. And it’s been quite lengthy if he’s being honest. After his last girlfriend ended things with a “ i’m just not feeling us ” text, Derek pretty much put his love life, both emotional and physical, on the back burner. And he’s going to fix that very soon.
He’s worked up the nerve, decided he’s going to push Stiles a bit further the next time he sends Derek a thinly veiled offer to come over. But it doesn’t come. Stiles is flirty as ever but doesn’t bring it up as the week comes to an end. On Friday, Derek decides to give a bit of a nudge and takes a Grade A Thirst Trap TM in front of the mirror near his bedroom window.
After pulling on a pair of maroon shorts that hug his ass and ride up his thighs along with a bulky grey hoodie, he poses. Facing the window to his left he pops his right leg forward and angles his body so that the curve of his ass swells and is clearly visible. He flexes, drawing attention to the definition in his thigh and gathers his hoodie in his hand, lifting so that the smallest stripe of his belly shows above the waistband. He posts it to his story and he waits.
Stiles: jesus der
Bingo.
Derek: think i could come grab those books from you tonight?
Stiles: fuck yes
Derek tucks his car against the curb in front of Stiles’ house and lets out a breath. He’s giddy, practically vibrating with excitement, but he takes a few more steadying breaths before he climbs out of the car. He follows the path from the street up to an inviting wooden deck that stretches along the front of the house. Well trimmed flowers and native plants fill the large flower box under the window that dominates the front of the house and a soft, golden glow peeks from behind the curtains that are drawn. He knocks softly at the front door and waits for an answer making an effort not to bounce on his toes.
There's a click of the lock unlatching and then the door swings open to reveal Stiles. He fills the threshold, a few inches taller than Derek and beams as he holds a foot out to keep Tony from escaping. “Derek! Hey, come on in.” He doesn’t hesitate to step forward and their chests brush as he crosses into the house, his pulse spiking at the contact.
The interior is just as cozy and inviting as the outside. A small entryway leads to a dimly lit living teeming with houseplants. They hang above the window and litter the shelves around the room, interspersed with knick knacks, books, and photos. A large grey sectional spans the length of the far wall and there are a few blankets tossed over the back. Soft acoustic music filters from the speakers and there’s a mug of what looks like tea sitting on the low coffee table next to a rolling tray. It’s soft and homy and Derek instantly wants to curl up on the couch with a book. And with Stiles. He spies the stack of books that sparked the invitation sitting innocently on a side table and smirks.
“Your place is beautiful, Stiles.” He turns to find the man leaning against the threshold, seemingly admiring Derek and he flushes, fighting the urge to fidget.
“Thanks! It’s kind of my pride and joy. Spent a lot of time renovating it a few years ago and I’m pretty happy with it.” Stiles smiled lazily, eyes a bit glassy and Derek notices the lingering scent of pot in the air. They spend a moment in silence, Derek looking around casually and Stiles looking at Derek. “Can I get you something to drink? I’ve got tea, coffee, water? Or if you want something stronger I’ve got whiskey, gin, the works.”
Derek contemplates for a moment, decides on tea, and follows Stiles into the kitchen, watching as he sets the kettle on the stove and grabs a mug. He’s wearing a navy long sleeve that clings to him nicely and the muscles in his back flex as he reaches for the tea. Derek’s eyes wander to his round ass, then to the tattoos on his legs beneath his shorts. He wonders how many there are that he can’t see.
“So, how’d you like the book?”
He settles into a barstool, Stiles leaning against the counter opposite Derek and he listens intently as Derek answers. “I couldn’t put it down. I was a bit hesitant to start it at first, not my usual genre and all, but the tik tok hype was spot on.”
“Dude, just wait until book two, you’re going to lose it when you figure out where this goes. And don’t even get me started on book three! I was sobbing by the end.”
Derek chuckles at Stiles’ enthusiasm and meets those warm, whiskey eyes, heat blooming across his cheeks when Stiles just stares back, relaxed and grinning. They hold each other’s gaze, the music from the living room drifting in the space between them and Derek’s stomach flutters, anticipation buzzing in his fingertips. The kettle begins to whistle softly and Stiles winks before turning to prepare his tea. Derek swallows and wipes his palms on his thighs.
Stiles carries the mug over and gestures to the living room. “Do you want to smoke?
“Yeah.”
They settle into the couch, Derek reclining into the cushions while his tea steeps and Stiles rolls a blunt. Derek watches his fingers as they work, commenting on a few of the photos on the shelf, particularly the one of Stiles with his goats and Stiles laughs, promising to introduce them some time. His fingers are long and graceful, his nails clean and well trimmed, and Derek can’t help but picture them on his throat. Or his thighs. He has attractive fucking hands and Derek isn’t sure why it’s such a turn on but so far literally everything about the man is getting him hot. Maybe it’s been too long since he’s gotten laid.
Stiles lights up and passes the blunt to Derek before reclining back into the couch, tucking one foot under his thigh and angling his body toward him. “Dude, what are you watching lately? I have so many shows for you, I honestly need to write them all down.”
They fall into pleasant conversation, Stiles animatedly explaining how HBO has dominated the television scene recently and that he abhors AppleTV but loves The Foundation. The topic changes to work and Stiles explains a few of the new books he’s ordering for the shop and that he’s considering hosting a local poetry night on Wednesdays. Derek finds himself engrossed in the conversation, hanging on every word. Stiles’ enthusiasm is infectious and Derek likes how easy he is to talk to. The conversation flows effortlessly, not the usual stilted, uneasy cadence of first date intros that he’s used to. Maybe it’s the weed. But it’s nice and Derek relaxes into the couch, muscles loose as he laughs at Stiles’ wit and sarcasm.
Derek reaches for his tea and Tony jumps up on the couch between them, weaving curiously into his space to investigate the stranger in his home. Derek coos gently and rubs the cat’s cheek, smiling when he purrs happily.
“He plays hard to get but he’s a cuddle fiend. When I get home from work, he’s all over me.”
Stiles smiles at the two of them and Derek hums in response, “Oh yeah?”. He takes a sip of his tea, notes how close they are sitting, and stretches his leg closer to Stiles’ as he sets his mug back on the table. He tracks the flick of Stiles’ tongue across his bottom lip with hungry eyes, heat pooling in his belly as desire bleeds into Stiles’ heavy gaze.
“In his defense, I would be too.”
The words fall from his lips lazily and Derek lets his eyes roam over Stiles’ body as he says it. The weed is definitely taking effect and he feels warm and soft. “That so?” Stiles slides a calloused hand across his thigh, rubbing just below the hem of his shorts and the touch sends a jolt of arousal through his body, his dick chubbing up just a few inches away. His thumb teases at the edge of the fabric, the tip slipping just beneath, and Derek bites his lip.
“Yeah.” He sighs and the muscles in his thigh twitch when Stiles squeezes gently.
Tony hops from Derek’s lap when he leans into Stiles, his hand resting on the man’s stomach for a moment before sliding up his chest as their lips meet. His pulse jumps as they kiss lazily, lips sliding together slowly as Stiles slips his tongue between Derek’s. He moans into Stiles’ mouth and shuffles into his lap, thighs spread wide as he settles against his hips. Derek’s thigh brushes against the slight bulge in Stiles’ shorts as he moves and the older man hums, hands settling on Derek’s hips and pulling him in. He trails his lips across Stiles’ chin and down to his neck, sucking gently at the soft skin beneath them and Stiles exhales a pleased groan. A hand settles on his scalp, scratching softly and giving Derek’s hair a small tug. He whines at the feeling, arching into Stiles’ chest and that hand tugs again, pulling his attention back to Stiles’ mouth. Derek grinds his hips down into Stiles’ lap dragging their erections together and he shivers at the sensation, Stiles groaning again into his mouth.
“Fuck, Der,” He pants against Derek’s lips, hands slipping beneath the hem of his hoodie to rest on his skin. Stiles trails his fingers up Derek’s chest, his nails scraping through the hair there and he hums his approval. He teases at one of Derek’s nipples, rolling the hard bud beneath his thumb before giving his pec a squeeze. His hands suddenly drop back to the bottom of Derek’s hoodie and he tugs it, “This needs to come off.”
Derek pulls the fabric over his shoulders and tosses it onto the floor. He lets his hands fall to Stiles’ thighs as the man’s hands travel over his chest hungrily. “Look at you, baby.”
Stiles cups on hand around each of Derek’s pecs and gives them a squeeze, his hips bucking softly as he does it. Derek bites his lip and blushes. He rolls his hips against Stiles’ again and gasps when a hand grips his ass, guides his movements as he humps lazily against the man below him.
“Bed?” Derek suggests and Stiles nods, giving his ass a quick smack as he urges the younger man out of his lap and guides him down the hall, hands resting on his hips. He reaches around Derek to push the door to his bedroom open and turns him to the left immediately, pressing his chest against the wall and grinding his dick into Derek’s ass. He kisses the skin of Derek’s neck, noses into his hair as he thrusts his hips again and again. Derek whines, arches his hips back into the touch.
He’s pulled from the wall and steered toward the bed, it’s massive and neatly made, Derek notices before he’s tipping forward at Stiles’ gentle push. Derek settles onto his elbows, the mattress meets his hips at the perfect height so that he doesn’t have to crawl onto his knees, and he relaxes into the sheets, head turned to the side. Stiles runs his fingers along the waistband of his shorts before slipping beneath the fabric and tugging them down his hips. Derek squirms at the pleased groan that falls from Stiles’ lips and he arches back when those hands come to rest on his ass, squeezing roughly.
“Jesus, how’d I get so lucky?” He runs his hands over the swell of Derek’s ass, giving a swat to his left cheek and groaning at the way it bounces in response. “This ass, baby. You have every right to be proud of this.” Derek bites his lip, rolling back onto his heels to chase Stiles’ touch. It earns him another slap and he whines.
“Stiles..”
“Like that, huh?”
Derek flushes and nods quickly, mouth open and panting against the sheets. Stiles slides a hand into his hair and gives it a tug, his lips warm against Derek’s ear as he grinds his hips into Derek’s ass. “Tell me, baby. Tell me how you like it.”
“Like t-that.” Stiles swats him again and Derek grunts, “Harder.” Stiles gives it to him harder, his hands raining down on Derek’s ass in a series of hard spanks and he gasps. “Yeah, just like that.”
Stiles doesn’t stop until his ass is thoroughly red. Lashes damp and cheeks flushed, Derek looks back and whines at the hungry look in his eyes. Stiles gives him a smile and pulls his shirt off, steps out of his shorts. His cock hangs heavily between his thighs and Derek licks his lips, eyes glazing over as he agonizes over where to look first. Stiles’ cock grabs his attention immediately and he hums appreciatively at how thick it is, the length is a bit more than average too and Derek understands why, even soft, it stole his attention from beneath Stiles’ shorts in that first message. The rest of Stiles is equally a work of art. Black ink swirls tantalizingly over his pale skin, his arms and chest completely covered. There’s a stylish abstract piece stretched over his hip and on his thigh is a tarot card deck, the top card a skeletal rendition of ‘the lovers’. Dragging his eyes back to Stiles’ face, Derek pauses when something on his chest flashes in the low light of the room, two somethings. Nipple piercings.
Arousal coils tighter in his belly at the sight and Derek knows he’s well and truly fucked. He could spend the rest of the night just looking at Stiles, he could even go home without an orgasm, and it would still be one of the best nights of his life. Everything about him gets Derek hot, every inch of him. He whines, desperate for Stiles’ hands on his skin and the older man coos at him softly, shushes him before dropping a kiss to his lower back. Hands frame his hips as Stiles’ mouth travels lower and his pulse roars in his ears. He briefly acknowledges that Stiles is speaking, but he can’t focus on the words, can’t think.
“Derek.” Stiles pulls away from him and his voice is stern and clear in the space between them. Derek blinks a few times and lifts his head, turns to look behind them. Stiles gives him a soft, fond smile when their eyes meet and he shuffles forward, turns Derek onto his back and helps him shimmy up the bed until he’s reclined against the pillows. Stiles crawls beside him and comes to rest on his side, his hand rubbing Derek’s arm gently. “Derek,” he repeats softly and tilts his chin up with a finger, stares into his eyes, “I got tested two weeks ago, results are on the nightstand.” He peers over Stiles’ shoulder and notes the folded paper on the table.
“Oh, uh, I went two months ago. I have an email with the results if you want to see them. Everything came back clear.” Derek pauses, the tips of his ears flushing red, “It’s been a while, a long while actually, since I’ve done this. So…”
Stiles hums softly and kisses his cheek, his nose, then his lips. His hand traces up Derek’s chest and pauses at his collarbone before circling his neck gently. He doesn’t apply any pressure, just rests his hand there and rubs his thumb along the soft skin. Derek exhales loudly through his nose and his eyes are wide when he looks up at Stiles, nodding softly. Hunger flashes in Stiles’ eyes and he tightens his grip, squeezing Derek’s neck just a bit and listening to him whine.
“Such a pretty little thing.” Stiles whispers the words against his ear, drags his teeth on the sensitive skin below it as he grinds his cock against Derek’s hip. “I want…fuck, I want to do so many things to you. I don’t even know where to start.”
Derek groans, hips bucking involuntarily at Stiles’ soft voice in his ear. He thinks of everything he wants to do with Stiles and there’s too much, he doesn’t know what he wants first. He wants Stiles to decide, wants him to take control and just use him.
“I want it all, Stiles. Everything.” He spreads his legs a bit, gives his own cock a squeeze because he’s aching and Stiles grabs his wrist, pulls Derek’s hand away and he practically sobs.
“Here’s what I want tonight: I want you to spread your legs nice and sweet for me, hold ‘em up while I eat your pretty little hole and get you open for me.” Derek wants to shout, wants to pull his legs up right now and present his body for Stiles but the older man just squeezes his wrist as he continues. “Then, I want you to ride me. I want to watch you fuck yourself on my cock and I want you to scream and cry and beg while you do it. Sound good?”
Fuck, does it sound good? It sounds fucking fantastic. Derek just pants, mouth hanging open and eyes wide as he nods, and when Stiles arches a brow he manages to whisper, “Yes. Yes, Stiles please.” That earns him another smile and something in his belly flutters at the unspoken approval.
Stiles reaches to grab a bottle of lube from the nightstand and tucks it next to Derek’s hip before shuffling down the bed between his thighs. He runs his hands reverently up and down Derek’s thighs before urging them further apart and lifting them with a hand behind each knee. Derek wraps a hand around each of his calves and pulls his legs higher, baring himself to Stiles’ hungry gaze and he bites his lip at the groan that falls from the older man’s lips. “Fuck, Der.”
The teasing touches along the backs of his thighs nearly do him in. His legs tremble as Stiles pets and prods at him, shifts his hips further back so that he’s properly on display before sinking onto his stomach. Derek watches, muscles tensing with anticipation as Stiles’ tongue licks over the center of his hole. They both groan at the contact and Derek’s eyes fall shut as his head thumps against the pillows.
It takes about ten seconds for Derek to realize that Stiles is really good at this. Like, really fucking good. He’s panting and clawing at the sheets, Stiles’ hands holding his legs aloft by the backs of his thighs as his tongue worships Derek’s hole. He slurps noisily, his tongue slipping into Derek and he wants to scream, to beg, anything that will get him more. It’s perfect and at the same time, not nearly enough. There’s a series of filthy, wet kisses against his hole before Stiles’ mouth travels up the sensitive skin to lave at his balls, sucking them into his mouth and releasing them with an obscene pop. He licks teasingly up the length of Derek’s cock and wraps his lips around the head, sucking gently as a finger slips inside of him and Derek whines, back arching as he fucks into Stiles’ mouth.
Stiles’ mouth leaves him and the older man settles back onto his knees, one hand steadily jerking Derek’s cock while the other stretches his hole open. Derek fumbles for the lube, flips the cap open and practically throws it at Stiles who takes it with a laugh.
“So eager baby.” Stiles lets the liquid fall directly on his ass, instantly scooping it up with two fingers and pressing in deep. Derek watches him with hooded eyes, biting his lip when those fingers graze his prostate and Stiles thumbs at the drop of cum that beads at the tip of his cock. “You like my fingers in your ass, Der? Hmm?”
Derek nods, panting as Stiles works him open, “Fuck, I love it.” Stiles adds a third and angles them toward his sweet spot, grinning when Derek rocks his hips into it. “Ohh shit, please Stiles! J-Just fuck me already.”
“You think you’re ready, baby?” Stiles slaps his cock against Derek’s slick, open hole and he yelps, clenching the muscles anxiously. He wants it so fucking bad. Derek doesn’t think he’s ever been this desperate for it in his life, but Stiles has played into every one of his kinks and he knows it. He grins, a sight Derek is quickly starting to love, and thrusts forward until his cock is nudging Derek’s balls. Derek whines and Stiles just laughs, repeating the motion. He leans forward over Derek and pulls him in for a filthy kiss, thrusting his tongue into Derek’s mouth just like he fucked his hole. He faintly registers a drawer opening and then Stiles is pressing a condom into his hand.
With trembling fingers, Derek manages to pry open the condom wrapper and slide the barrier down Stiles’ erection. He takes a moment to wrap both hands around Stiles’ cock, marveling at the weight of it. Stiles grunts and Derek looks up at him, teeth catching his bottom lip and eyes wide, and Stiles’ chest is heaving. His hands tighten almost painfully on Derek’s thighs and he gasps, hoping there will be bruises in the morning.
Stiles releases his legs and taps Derek’s hip prompting him to switch positions. They shuffle silently around the bed, the air between them charged with desire as Stiles reclines against the headboard and Derek settles once again onto his lap. Stiles lets his hands rest on Derek’s hips, his thumbs rubbing against his skin as he waits for Derek to get comfortable. He’s calm and confident, dominant even in this position, as he watches Derek adjust and it makes him shake. Derek spreads his thighs wider and Stiles wraps a hand around his own cock, angling it so that the tip aligns with Derek’s hole. The stretch is immaculate as he lowers himself onto Stiles’ length, inch after inch opening him up and filling him to the brink. Stiles’ hands grip his thighs with bruising force and he bites his lip with a grunt as Derek bottoms out, his ass resting against the older man’s hips.
“Just like that, baby.” Stiles’ voice is deep and strained, his hands caressing every inch of Derek’s chest as he adjusts to the cock in his ass. “Look at you. Such a pretty thing, so desperate for it. Couldn’t wait to take me, huh?” Derek nods eagerly, a strangled gasp falling from his lips as his body trembles. The initial burn of penetration has dulled and in its wake fire blooms across his skin as his need builds. He wants to watch Stiles cum, wants to paint his chest with his own release, wants to feel owned by the man beneath him.
Derek’s thighs tense as he rolls his hips forward experimentally before sinking back onto Stiles’ cock and he shouts as his pleasure bursts through his body. He shifts forward, hands resting on the wooden headboard and he fucking rides Stiles. Their combined moans and shouts weave through the sound of smacking skin as Derek works his hips on Stiles’ cock, ass bouncing and thighs burning. All of the hours he’s spent in the gym are well fucking worth it because the look on Stiles’ face is a work of art. He wants to see that face forever.
“Oh fuck, Der! Should’ve known you be such a slut for it.” Stiles gasps for breath with every other thrust of Derek’s hips and the words send a shiver down Derek’s spine. Yes, yes he’s a slut for it. He wants to be a slut for Stiles. He whines and moves faster, chasing the sparks of pleasure as sweat begins to bead on his brow. “You like that sweetheart? Like being a slut for me?”
“Yes! Yes, love being your slut, Stiles.” Derek flushes even deeper, whimpering as he watches the older man’s eyes darken. He reaches a hand down to his own cock, desperate for release, and he just knows Stiles is going to deny him. He’s counting on it. Still, he whines when Stiles batts his hand away, lacing their fingers together instead.
“Oh, honey. You knew I’d do that, huh?” Derek nods, lashes dampening as Stiles’ tone turns condescending and pleasure coils in his gut. A burst of cum dribbles down his length and Stiles laughs as he chases it with a finger. “Didn’t I tell you I wanted to see you cry and beg? I meant it, Derek. You’re going to work for it.” His hips thrust up sharply into Derek and sparks burst behind his eyelids as they fall closed.
Derek gets the sudden urge to pout and throw a fit, though he doesn’t think it will get him anywhere with Stiles. He almost wants to try it, just to see if Stiles will laugh at him again, that dark, gravelly laugh makes him want to be Stiles’ filthy, perfect play thing. Instead he whines and bites his bottom lip again, gives Stiles’ his best innocent, wide eyed stare and he begs.
“Please, please Stiles. I want it so bad. Want to cum for you, want to watch you cum. Fuck-” Derek throws his head back as Stiles thrusts up again, cock nailing his prostate and his thighs begin to tremble again as he holds back his orgasm. “I-I want to be good for you, please. Please!”
Stiles grins up at him as his hands grip Derek’s ass, slowly moving him up and down on his length. “You are, baby. You are being so good for me.” Derek sobs, a few tears falling from his eyes and Stiles leans forward as one trails down his cheek, chasing it with his tongue. He groans, cock twitching in the space between them and Stiles catches the movement, laughing again. “Such a perfect, gorgeous boy for me. Coming over to my house in those tiny little shorts. You knew exactly what you wanted when you put those on, didn’t you?”
A finger teases at the taut skin of his hole, rubbing at his stretched rim and Derek keens, eyes going wide as Stiles stares back at him. “Didn’t you, Der?”
“Yes,” Derek manages to gasp, “I knew. I wanted it. Wanted you to fuck me.” He arches his back on the next thrust downward and his cock grazes Stiles’ belly leaving a trail of precum on his skin. “Fuck! Stiles, please. Please let me cum.” Stiles trails a finger from the base of his cock all the way to the tip before he finally wraps his hand fully around Derek’s length. He jerks Derek off quickly, fingers tight as they move gracefully over his erection. Derek pants as his orgasm builds, his balls tightening as his hips move in short thrusts, both to meet Stiles’ hand and to work himself back onto the thick cock inside of him.
Just as his muscles begin to tense, Stiles pulls his hand away and Derek screams. His head falls into the curve on Stiles’ neck and he mouths at the sweaty skin beneath his lips as he cries. Derek begs, quiet mumbles that make no sense at all into Stiles’ neck as he continues to fuck himself on the older man’s length. His relief is right there, so close he can taste it and Stiles just fucking laughs .
“I’m sorry baby, I’m sorry.” Stiles coos gently, his fingers kneading at Derek’s balls before sliding back up to his cock. “You’re so pretty when you cry, sweetheart. I just had to see.” Stiles’ hand resumes jerking Derek's cock and his orgasm crashes over him. Stars burst behind Derek’s eyes as wave after wave of pleasure courses through his body and he gasps through the intensity of it. Stiles strokes a hand down his side as Derek trembles through the aftershocks and his cum trails down the planes of Stiles’ chest.
Derek allows himself to be maneuvered onto his back just below the pillows and Stiles tugs the condom off before climbing over Derek’s hips. He shuffles forward until his knees rest on either side of Derek’s ribs and he jerks his cock lazily, a hand coming to cup Derek’s cheek. “Fuck, baby. I want- ugh I want to come all over these pretty tears. Will you let me, baby?” Derek nods, eyes wide and glassy as he watches Stiles’ hand move and his mouth falls open effortlessly, desperate for Stiles’ cum. “Oh sweetheart, you are gonna ruin me.”
Stiles thumbs his bottom lip, rubbing gently at his mouth as he grunts and huffs. His spine tenses and Derek sticks out his tongue as the first splash lands across his lips. Stiles takes care to not actually get any in his eyes and Derek marvels at his control, even in the height of his pleasure. The hand caressing his mouth slides up into his hair and grips roughly as Stiles brings the head of his cock to Derek’s lips, sliding between to rest on his tongue and Derek laps at it greedily. He sucks at the tip, hot and heavy on his tongue, drunk on the feeling of it in his mouth and he swallows every bit of cum he gets as Stiles gasps.
“Such a good fucking boy for me, Der.” His voice is barely a whisper and they go straight to Derek’s gut, sending a shiver through him. Contentment coils in his belly and he practically preens . “Yeah, you like that baby. Can’t get enough of you.”
Derek mouths at Stiles’ cock until it’s soft and pliant between his lips. The older man hisses through his teeth but he doesn’t pull away. He continues to thrust gently into Derek’s mouth, hand wound tightly in his hair as his gaze remains transfixed on Derek’s lips. When he does draw away from Derek’s mouth, the younger man whines at the loss, mouth falling wide.
“I know, I know.” Stiles releases his hair and pats Derek’s cheek softly. His fingers trail through the cum on his face and he meets Derek’s eyes as two of them slide into his mouth, resting against his tongue. Stiles feeds Derek every drop of his cum, humming approvingly as he sucks all of it from the older man’s fingers and still whines for more. “You’d suck my fucking soul from my dick if I let you, huh sweet boy?”
A fog settles over him as Stiles kisses him gently before reaching into the nightstand and pulling out a pack of wipes. He cleans Derek’s face and both of their stomachs, coaxes Derek to drink a bit of water from a glass, and then settles them into bed. Derek winds up on his stomach, face pressed against the side of Stiles’ chest just below the man’s armpit and an arm thrown over his belly.
“Do you want to stay the night, Der?” Stiles’ voice breaks through the haze in his mind and Derek barks out a laugh when he pictures himself even trying to get up right now.
“I don’t think I could walk right now, even if I wanted to.” Stiles wraps his arms around Derek and laughs with him. He strokes a hand down the expanse of Derek’s back once they’ve quieted and he hums thoughtfully.
“I had a feeling tonight was going to be great, but I didn’t plan on it being that fucking awesome.” A hand strokes Derek’s hair and he grunts in agreement, arm tightening on Stiles’ middle, he nuzzles into the hair of Stiles’ armpit and breathes out a sigh of contentment. “What are you doing tomorrow?”
Derek doesn’t fight the smile that creeps across his lips at the idea of tomorrow with Stiles. “I usually go to the gym for a bit in the morning, but my weekends are pretty lazy after that.” He lets the anticipation sink into his tone, wants Stiles to offer the weekend and then some. He wants to stay here, with Stiles, pressed against his skin, however he can get him for as long as he can.
“Be lazy with me?” Derek crawls over Stiles’ body and hovers above him, breathing his answer into his mouth as their lips meet.
“Yes.”
—
Derek grunts under the weight of the bar as he pushes up from a squat and drops the weight back onto the rack. He uncoils the wraps from his palms and wipes down the equipment before heading across the gym to run his cool down mile before stretching. The photo he snapped in the gym mirror this morning still went on his instagram story, but the reply he got ten minutes later was well anticipated.
Stiles: hurry up and come back to bed
The photo below it is of Stiles’ lazy grin, nestled into the pillows with eyes hazy from sleep. Derek grins through the entire run.