[ stiles reads him easily. derek sounds annoyed, but it's not the same tone, not the same timbre in his voice that there is when he's truly agitated. stiles has been on the end of derek's genuine annoyance enough times to know the difference. but derek smiles, too, and it gives him away. he laughs, and stiles' shy little smile spreads and he finds himself laughing too, a little dumb with - happiness. he likes it when derek smiles.
he's still laughing to himself under his breath when derek plants his hand up against his chest and pushes him backwards. stiles goes easily, lets himself be tilted back with zero resistance, and when his shoulders thump against the bottom of the couch, it knocks the breath out of him a little. his smile fades slightly, not because he feels any less happy, but because he's sensing a shift in the atmosphere, and he's curious and - really horny. like, really unexpectedly turned on.
derek goes for his neck and stiles instinctively tilts his head back, lets the back of his skull rest against the top of the couch cushion behind him. he can't help the soft sigh of a sound that slips out as derek gently closes his mouth over his pulse and sucks, fingers flexing aimlessly by his thighs. he wants to put his hands on derek, wants to feel his skin warm under his hands, the solid muscle.
it doesn't take a lot from derek to get him fully erect. he's practically already there when derek sinks his hand past the waistband of his sweats and closes his hand around his cock, strokes him slowly. stiles lifts his head back up and tilts his chin forward, looks down to watch. the last time derek had his hand on stiles' dick it was dark and the space was close and tight, but he wants to see what it looks like, derek's hand curled tight just underneath the crown, but his sweats are still in the way—
and derek is moving. derek moves, and he dips his head in low between stiles lazily-parted thighs and he keeps his eyes on stiles' while he does it. stiles tenses immediately, but it's not a bad thing. his cock flexes in derek's grip and his lips part and his pupils dilate minutely, and stiles doesn't want to assume, but he feels like this is not something that's very easy to misinterpret. he wets his lips and he closes his mouth and he swallows hard. fuck. fuck, he's never— god. his dick is out and practically in derek's face and derek is staring at it and stiles doesn't know what to make of it. he starts to feel nervous, a little self-conscious because derek's not saying anything. until he does.
stiles' toes flex and he feels this weird wave of something close to pride roll through him, and he watches as derek swallows and as his face flushes red, he watches as he wets his lips and stiles— stiles really hopes this is going to turn out to be more than the handjob he originally thought he was about to get from derek - which would have been fine, too, don't get him wrong, but now he can't stop thinking about what it would feel like to slide his cock into derek's mouth.
stiles whimpers. it's just a tiny, swallowed sound, but he has to close his eyes for a second. he brings one of his hands up and he bumps the back of his fingers against the edge of his own jaw, like he doesn't even know what to do with his hands. derek's voice is - fuck, it's something else right now. it's a little deeper, smooth and rough at the same time and stiles doesn't realize it, but he starts to tighten the muscles in his lower back very slowly, arching it in, pushing his cock into derek's hand, pushing it closer to derek's mouth.
and then derek imitates him and his voice goes from attractive as fuck to annoying as hell. stiles closes his eyes in the slowest blink just to keep from rolling them instead, and without stopping to think about it, he takes his hand away from his own face and he reaches out and he slides his palm underneath derek's chin, fingers and thumb on either side of his jaw, and he lifts his head to make derek look at him.
it's hard to keep his voice steady when derek starts to stroke his cock, and it's hard to stay focused with his mouth so close to his dick, with his knees spread and his back arched. it's hard to say anything at all with derek looking up at him from between his legs, but damn it, he's going to try and he's going to nail this.
with much more confidence than he's actually feeling, stiles tilts his head and he leans in close, and it's slightly awkward and a little bit of a strain because he has to practically fold himself over, but stiles does it anyway, lifting derek chin a little bit more to lessen the reach. he tilts his face in close, and he purposely touches his thumb to derek's lower lip. just for a second, very light, and he kisses derek, soft and easy and appreciative of his subtle ("subtle") praise. it's just a brief brush of their lips, but stiles stays close when he parts from him. ]
I'd say thank you, actually. [ his heart's a little quick, but it's consistent, there's no skip. stiles wets his lips, sits back a little and lets his hand drift from under derek's chin, down the side of his neck. he doesn't know why, but he really wants to push his fingers through derek's hair - so he does. he slides his fingers through the dark strands and he lets his hand drift down the back of his neck. ] Now can you just - shut up and do something? Please?
[ he means to sound sarcastic and teasing, but he misses his mark by a mile because he just sounds soft and fond and quietly desperate, quietly needy instead. ]
no subject
he's still laughing to himself under his breath when derek plants his hand up against his chest and pushes him backwards. stiles goes easily, lets himself be tilted back with zero resistance, and when his shoulders thump against the bottom of the couch, it knocks the breath out of him a little. his smile fades slightly, not because he feels any less happy, but because he's sensing a shift in the atmosphere, and he's curious and - really horny. like, really unexpectedly turned on.
derek goes for his neck and stiles instinctively tilts his head back, lets the back of his skull rest against the top of the couch cushion behind him. he can't help the soft sigh of a sound that slips out as derek gently closes his mouth over his pulse and sucks, fingers flexing aimlessly by his thighs. he wants to put his hands on derek, wants to feel his skin warm under his hands, the solid muscle.
it doesn't take a lot from derek to get him fully erect. he's practically already there when derek sinks his hand past the waistband of his sweats and closes his hand around his cock, strokes him slowly. stiles lifts his head back up and tilts his chin forward, looks down to watch. the last time derek had his hand on stiles' dick it was dark and the space was close and tight, but he wants to see what it looks like, derek's hand curled tight just underneath the crown, but his sweats are still in the way—
and derek is moving. derek moves, and he dips his head in low between stiles lazily-parted thighs and he keeps his eyes on stiles' while he does it. stiles tenses immediately, but it's not a bad thing. his cock flexes in derek's grip and his lips part and his pupils dilate minutely, and stiles doesn't want to assume, but he feels like this is not something that's very easy to misinterpret. he wets his lips and he closes his mouth and he swallows hard. fuck. fuck, he's never— god. his dick is out and practically in derek's face and derek is staring at it and stiles doesn't know what to make of it. he starts to feel nervous, a little self-conscious because derek's not saying anything. until he does.
stiles' toes flex and he feels this weird wave of something close to pride roll through him, and he watches as derek swallows and as his face flushes red, he watches as he wets his lips and stiles— stiles really hopes this is going to turn out to be more than the handjob he originally thought he was about to get from derek - which would have been fine, too, don't get him wrong, but now he can't stop thinking about what it would feel like to slide his cock into derek's mouth.
stiles whimpers. it's just a tiny, swallowed sound, but he has to close his eyes for a second. he brings one of his hands up and he bumps the back of his fingers against the edge of his own jaw, like he doesn't even know what to do with his hands. derek's voice is - fuck, it's something else right now. it's a little deeper, smooth and rough at the same time and stiles doesn't realize it, but he starts to tighten the muscles in his lower back very slowly, arching it in, pushing his cock into derek's hand, pushing it closer to derek's mouth.
and then derek imitates him and his voice goes from attractive as fuck to annoying as hell. stiles closes his eyes in the slowest blink just to keep from rolling them instead, and without stopping to think about it, he takes his hand away from his own face and he reaches out and he slides his palm underneath derek's chin, fingers and thumb on either side of his jaw, and he lifts his head to make derek look at him.
it's hard to keep his voice steady when derek starts to stroke his cock, and it's hard to stay focused with his mouth so close to his dick, with his knees spread and his back arched. it's hard to say anything at all with derek looking up at him from between his legs, but damn it, he's going to try and he's going to nail this.
with much more confidence than he's actually feeling, stiles tilts his head and he leans in close, and it's slightly awkward and a little bit of a strain because he has to practically fold himself over, but stiles does it anyway, lifting derek chin a little bit more to lessen the reach. he tilts his face in close, and he purposely touches his thumb to derek's lower lip. just for a second, very light, and he kisses derek, soft and easy and appreciative of his subtle ("subtle") praise. it's just a brief brush of their lips, but stiles stays close when he parts from him. ]
I'd say thank you, actually. [ his heart's a little quick, but it's consistent, there's no skip. stiles wets his lips, sits back a little and lets his hand drift from under derek's chin, down the side of his neck. he doesn't know why, but he really wants to push his fingers through derek's hair - so he does. he slides his fingers through the dark strands and he lets his hand drift down the back of his neck. ] Now can you just - shut up and do something? Please?
[ he means to sound sarcastic and teasing, but he misses his mark by a mile because he just sounds soft and fond and quietly desperate, quietly needy instead. ]