[ stiles bares his neck to derek, and derek honestly doesn't think there could be anything hotter. when he arrived in duplicity, derek made some rash, negative decisions, born from the struggle to keep his feet flat on the ground and his status as alpha secure. he searched for power where he could get it, where he could find it. he struggled to assert himself as dominant while trying not to be seen as a dominant, and here - now -
this is why he did it. this is what he wanted. he didn't want the sorry, empty, vacuous nights with strangers, the bared teeth, the forced anger. he just wanted someone in his arms who trusted him. someone willing to be vulnerable for him, someone he could protect. derek pushes his cock harder into stiles' hand in the last few seconds they share standing upright, nipping lightly at his neck and moving his lips down beneath his throat, lightly pressing his teeth to the line of his collarbone. stiles - always makes him stronger.
they crash into bed, stiles' mattress cheap and uncomfortable and somehow too firm and too soft at the same time. he's still kissing stiles while stiles slaps his hand out towards the dresser, and even though derek was the one who brought up condoms, he's still apparently okay with complaining about stiles wasting time blindly fishing them out. he's covering stiles' neck and throat with soft bites and hard hickeys, gentle kisses and soothing sucks, turning pale skin into a patchwork of pink and mottled red. he's trying to make stiles feel good. loved. that's all derek's wanted to do since coming back from the fort.
protection. fuck, right, okay. he sits up on his knees, and he tears into the wrapper with his teeth, spitting out the frayed shred of plastic he rips off out of the corner of his mouth. he pulls the condom out as fast as he can, like he's physically incapable of waiting for stiles any longer than he already has. that's when stiles slips his hands down the front of derek's sweats, taking hold of his dick with both hands.
derek's breaths start coming more labored. there's sweat on his chest, just a little, which rises and falls in the dark even more now than it did when he'd sprinted across the down and showed up on stiles' doorstep, close to passing out from panic. he gives stiles the kiss he asks for, making it last, and without breaking away, he rolls his sweatpants down past his thighs with his free hand. ]
I need-- I need to...
[ put this on. derek swallows a lump of nerves, touching his hand to stiles' wrist, feather-light, silently asking him to let go. when he does, derek sets the rubber against the tip of his cock, and--
and he grins, totally out of nowhere, and that's not good. he thought of a mean thing to say. he's not going to say it, at first, but as he rolls the condom over the crown of his dick and back down the length of him, he... laughs, breathless and fragile under the stress of his heavy breathing, and he knows for a god damn fact that he's only laughing because he's nervous. but it's not like he can laugh in the middle of this... whirlwind of touching and kissing and extremely heightened emotions without looking like kind of an asshole? so. ssso.
he leans in, takes another kiss from stiles. tries to soften the burn before he does it. ]
Kinda... surprised this fit.
[ you know - because this is stiles' condom, and stiles has a small dick, and derek doesn't. that's the joke. this no fit. get it. do you get it? ha ha.
he's kidding. stiles is fine, stiles' dick is fine, this is fine, everything's - fine, and it's insanely obvious that derek's just trolling him, because when he takes another kiss from stiles, the nervous laughter is more of a snicker. like he's just... happy, to be screwing around with him. open and innocent in a way he's maybe never been, even before the fire.
but he hasn't forgotten why this started, why they both need this. derek kisses stiles on the tip of his nose, lightly, sweetly. he kisses his forehead, and he lingers, because - because he can smell stiles' hair, he can smell his shampoo. derek's shampoo, from when stiles showered at his place, not too long ago. it's nearly faded, but it's there, and derek just... derek just didn't think he'd ever have this. the smell of his shampoo in somebody else's hair.
he sets his hand on stiles' shoulder, and he stands, getting out of bed. he strips, gets naked, leaves his sweats on the floor, and then he's back in bed, leaning over stiles. he slips his hand under stiles' tshirt, and he hesitates, because - he doesn't want to just... make this decision for him, but he wants-- he wants to see him. derek swallows again, another hard lump of emotion, and he digs his knees into the mattress, both of them either side of one of stiles' legs. cautiously, he tugs on the hem of stiles' shirt. ]
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this is why he did it. this is what he wanted. he didn't want the sorry, empty, vacuous nights with strangers, the bared teeth, the forced anger. he just wanted someone in his arms who trusted him. someone willing to be vulnerable for him, someone he could protect. derek pushes his cock harder into stiles' hand in the last few seconds they share standing upright, nipping lightly at his neck and moving his lips down beneath his throat, lightly pressing his teeth to the line of his collarbone. stiles - always makes him stronger.
they crash into bed, stiles' mattress cheap and uncomfortable and somehow too firm and too soft at the same time. he's still kissing stiles while stiles slaps his hand out towards the dresser, and even though derek was the one who brought up condoms, he's still apparently okay with complaining about stiles wasting time blindly fishing them out. he's covering stiles' neck and throat with soft bites and hard hickeys, gentle kisses and soothing sucks, turning pale skin into a patchwork of pink and mottled red. he's trying to make stiles feel good. loved. that's all derek's wanted to do since coming back from the fort.
protection. fuck, right, okay. he sits up on his knees, and he tears into the wrapper with his teeth, spitting out the frayed shred of plastic he rips off out of the corner of his mouth. he pulls the condom out as fast as he can, like he's physically incapable of waiting for stiles any longer than he already has. that's when stiles slips his hands down the front of derek's sweats, taking hold of his dick with both hands.
derek's breaths start coming more labored. there's sweat on his chest, just a little, which rises and falls in the dark even more now than it did when he'd sprinted across the down and showed up on stiles' doorstep, close to passing out from panic. he gives stiles the kiss he asks for, making it last, and without breaking away, he rolls his sweatpants down past his thighs with his free hand. ]
I need-- I need to...
[ put this on. derek swallows a lump of nerves, touching his hand to stiles' wrist, feather-light, silently asking him to let go. when he does, derek sets the rubber against the tip of his cock, and--
and he grins, totally out of nowhere, and that's not good. he thought of a mean thing to say. he's not going to say it, at first, but as he rolls the condom over the crown of his dick and back down the length of him, he... laughs, breathless and fragile under the stress of his heavy breathing, and he knows for a god damn fact that he's only laughing because he's nervous. but it's not like he can laugh in the middle of this... whirlwind of touching and kissing and extremely heightened emotions without looking like kind of an asshole? so. ssso.
he leans in, takes another kiss from stiles. tries to soften the burn before he does it. ]
Kinda... surprised this fit.
[ you know - because this is stiles' condom, and stiles has a small dick, and derek doesn't. that's the joke. this no fit. get it. do you get it? ha ha.
he's kidding. stiles is fine, stiles' dick is fine, this is fine, everything's - fine, and it's insanely obvious that derek's just trolling him, because when he takes another kiss from stiles, the nervous laughter is more of a snicker. like he's just... happy, to be screwing around with him. open and innocent in a way he's maybe never been, even before the fire.
but he hasn't forgotten why this started, why they both need this. derek kisses stiles on the tip of his nose, lightly, sweetly. he kisses his forehead, and he lingers, because - because he can smell stiles' hair, he can smell his shampoo. derek's shampoo, from when stiles showered at his place, not too long ago. it's nearly faded, but it's there, and derek just... derek just didn't think he'd ever have this. the smell of his shampoo in somebody else's hair.
he sets his hand on stiles' shoulder, and he stands, getting out of bed. he strips, gets naked, leaves his sweats on the floor, and then he's back in bed, leaning over stiles. he slips his hand under stiles' tshirt, and he hesitates, because - he doesn't want to just... make this decision for him, but he wants-- he wants to see him. derek swallows again, another hard lump of emotion, and he digs his knees into the mattress, both of them either side of one of stiles' legs. cautiously, he tugs on the hem of stiles' shirt. ]
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