[ stiles waits until derek's in the shower before he does anything. that comment from earlier about derek having to pick up after him is still kind of burned under his skin, even if he understands now that it might not have actually been a genuine complaint, but he just - doesn't want to give derek anything else to worry about or get frustrated over.
as soon as derek steps into the shower, stiles moves. he grabs derek's dirty clothes from the floor and he slips out of the bathroom to take them to their bedroom so he can dump them in the basket with the rest of their dirty clothes from the week. he - doesn't feel great about leaving derek alone in the bathroom even for less than a minute, keeping an ear out for him, but all he can hear is the consistent, static-y sound of the shower running.
stiles lifts one foot, peeling his sock off, then does the same with the other, dropping them in the laundry basket. he hooks his thumbs into the waistband of his pajama pants next, pushing them down along with his boxers and stepping out of them, dropping them in with his socks. stiles' hands find the bottom of his shirt, but that's where he hesitates, tugging lightly and nervously at the hem. stalling.
he's not - insecure. not really - except, maybe he is. objectively, he's fine with his body, thin and pale and average as it is, but for most of high school, he's been surrounded by jocks and werewolves and jocks who are werewolves and stiles has never been particularly impressive, so it's been easy to kind of let his self-esteem fall by the wayside.
derek - has never seen him without a shirt on as far as stiles knows, and it shouldn't make him nervous because he loves derek and derek loves him - but it does. it makes his stomach feel a little tight and it makes his mouth feel dry and his throat feel thick. stiles swallows—
—and derek calls his name, slightly needy. stiles makes a snap decision. he breathes out in a rush, curls his fingers around the bottom of his shirt, and drags it up and off, dropping it with the rest of their clothes. he feels - slightly awkward being fully naked, the anticipation making his skin feel a little hot, but he pushes through it, calling back. ]
I'm - I'm here, I'm coming. It's okay.
[ stiles hesitates for half of second outside of the bathroom door, takes in another breath, and then rounds the corner and steps inside. this time, he closes the door behind him, though he leaves it unlatched. when he turns back, he can see derek in the shower, leaned up against the far wall, outside of the spray of water. some of the shower glass has fogged up already with steam, blurring some of the lines of derek's body. stiles' cock stirs a little, already half hard.
impulsively, he shakes one of his hands out by his side as he steps forward, crossing the short length of the bathroom. he steps into the shower, trying his best to ignore the itch of rising anxiety under his skin, and he steps up to derek, carefully, almost hesitantly putting his hands on him, one against the side of his neck and the other over the side of his rib cage. ]
Hey...
[ he swallows, then offers a faint, fleeting smile, taking a step back and gently tugging at derek's waist to get him to come with him. stiles moves backwards into the spray of water, tilting his head away slightly and squinting an eye shut when it sprays directly into his ear. he takes his hand off of derek's side and blindly reaches for the soap, then turns so his back is to the water and derek is in front of him, mostly shielded from the spray.
leaning in, stiles lets his other hand fall from the side of derek's neck and dips his head slightly to press a kiss to the underside of his jaw, quickly lathering both of his hands up with soap in the little space between them. he puts the bar down, nearly missing the little ledge for it, and then carefully puts his hands back on derek, both of them at his shoulders.
slowly, stiles slides his palms down over derek's biceps, down to his elbows, back up to his shoulders where he squeezes gently. from there, he guides his hands down the front of his chest, rubbing in gentle, lazy circles, washing away the dirt and dust from derek's run. he leaves another kiss on his chin this time, letting his hands drift lower to his ribs, his abs, circling over the curve of his hips.
he's ignored derek's cock up until now which - was honestly kind of difficult when he'd undressed him, tempted to kiss the weeping tip while he was still practically on his knees. now, though, stiles doesn't try to resist, slowly pulling his hands in from derek's hips and sliding them down his lower belly, following the thick line of dark hair down to his cock. he curls one hand around the base, loose and slick with soap, and wonders briefly if he's just - imagining that derek feels thicker and heaver in his hand, but he doesn't dwell, dropping his other hand to gently cup derek's balls and pulling his fist up in a lazy stroke from root to tip. he tilts forward, leaning his forehead against derek's, gaze cast downward to watch his own hands. ]
I'm... sorry I kicked you out. I didn't mean it like that. I love you.
[ he murmurs quietly, lifting his chin a little to bump his nose into derek's. he curls his fingers a little tighter around derek's cock, dropping his fist and dragging it back up, pushing his thumb over the crown. he sighs, feeling his nervous energy start to melt away, and inches himself in a little closer, rolling derek's balls over his fingers before he tilts back and lifts his hand to push his wet hair back from his own forehead.
despite the - pretty terrible day up until this point, stiles still feels this immense swell of burning love when he looks at derek. he feels it deep in his chest, in his veins, in his bones, and it's - overwhelming. it makes him feeling like he's drowning, but he's not scared, he just - he just wants to give this feeling to derek, show him how much he actually loves him. he wants to fill him with the love he feels for him.
stiles - crowds derek. he kisses him hard, taking his hands and pressing them flat against his abs so he can guide him backwards, pushing him gently but with intent toward the opposite wall. when derek can go no further, stiles presses himself in close, his cock hard against derek's hip and his tongue begging at the seam of derek's lips. ]
no subject
[ stiles waits until derek's in the shower before he does anything. that comment from earlier about derek having to pick up after him is still kind of burned under his skin, even if he understands now that it might not have actually been a genuine complaint, but he just - doesn't want to give derek anything else to worry about or get frustrated over.
as soon as derek steps into the shower, stiles moves. he grabs derek's dirty clothes from the floor and he slips out of the bathroom to take them to their bedroom so he can dump them in the basket with the rest of their dirty clothes from the week. he - doesn't feel great about leaving derek alone in the bathroom even for less than a minute, keeping an ear out for him, but all he can hear is the consistent, static-y sound of the shower running.
stiles lifts one foot, peeling his sock off, then does the same with the other, dropping them in the laundry basket. he hooks his thumbs into the waistband of his pajama pants next, pushing them down along with his boxers and stepping out of them, dropping them in with his socks. stiles' hands find the bottom of his shirt, but that's where he hesitates, tugging lightly and nervously at the hem. stalling.
he's not - insecure. not really - except, maybe he is. objectively, he's fine with his body, thin and pale and average as it is, but for most of high school, he's been surrounded by jocks and werewolves and jocks who are werewolves and stiles has never been particularly impressive, so it's been easy to kind of let his self-esteem fall by the wayside.
derek - has never seen him without a shirt on as far as stiles knows, and it shouldn't make him nervous because he loves derek and derek loves him - but it does. it makes his stomach feel a little tight and it makes his mouth feel dry and his throat feel thick. stiles swallows—
—and derek calls his name, slightly needy. stiles makes a snap decision. he breathes out in a rush, curls his fingers around the bottom of his shirt, and drags it up and off, dropping it with the rest of their clothes. he feels - slightly awkward being fully naked, the anticipation making his skin feel a little hot, but he pushes through it, calling back. ]
I'm - I'm here, I'm coming. It's okay.
[ stiles hesitates for half of second outside of the bathroom door, takes in another breath, and then rounds the corner and steps inside. this time, he closes the door behind him, though he leaves it unlatched. when he turns back, he can see derek in the shower, leaned up against the far wall, outside of the spray of water. some of the shower glass has fogged up already with steam, blurring some of the lines of derek's body. stiles' cock stirs a little, already half hard.
impulsively, he shakes one of his hands out by his side as he steps forward, crossing the short length of the bathroom. he steps into the shower, trying his best to ignore the itch of rising anxiety under his skin, and he steps up to derek, carefully, almost hesitantly putting his hands on him, one against the side of his neck and the other over the side of his rib cage. ]
Hey...
[ he swallows, then offers a faint, fleeting smile, taking a step back and gently tugging at derek's waist to get him to come with him. stiles moves backwards into the spray of water, tilting his head away slightly and squinting an eye shut when it sprays directly into his ear. he takes his hand off of derek's side and blindly reaches for the soap, then turns so his back is to the water and derek is in front of him, mostly shielded from the spray.
leaning in, stiles lets his other hand fall from the side of derek's neck and dips his head slightly to press a kiss to the underside of his jaw, quickly lathering both of his hands up with soap in the little space between them. he puts the bar down, nearly missing the little ledge for it, and then carefully puts his hands back on derek, both of them at his shoulders.
slowly, stiles slides his palms down over derek's biceps, down to his elbows, back up to his shoulders where he squeezes gently. from there, he guides his hands down the front of his chest, rubbing in gentle, lazy circles, washing away the dirt and dust from derek's run. he leaves another kiss on his chin this time, letting his hands drift lower to his ribs, his abs, circling over the curve of his hips.
he's ignored derek's cock up until now which - was honestly kind of difficult when he'd undressed him, tempted to kiss the weeping tip while he was still practically on his knees. now, though, stiles doesn't try to resist, slowly pulling his hands in from derek's hips and sliding them down his lower belly, following the thick line of dark hair down to his cock. he curls one hand around the base, loose and slick with soap, and wonders briefly if he's just - imagining that derek feels thicker and heaver in his hand, but he doesn't dwell, dropping his other hand to gently cup derek's balls and pulling his fist up in a lazy stroke from root to tip. he tilts forward, leaning his forehead against derek's, gaze cast downward to watch his own hands. ]
I'm... sorry I kicked you out. I didn't mean it like that. I love you.
[ he murmurs quietly, lifting his chin a little to bump his nose into derek's. he curls his fingers a little tighter around derek's cock, dropping his fist and dragging it back up, pushing his thumb over the crown. he sighs, feeling his nervous energy start to melt away, and inches himself in a little closer, rolling derek's balls over his fingers before he tilts back and lifts his hand to push his wet hair back from his own forehead.
despite the - pretty terrible day up until this point, stiles still feels this immense swell of burning love when he looks at derek. he feels it deep in his chest, in his veins, in his bones, and it's - overwhelming. it makes him feeling like he's drowning, but he's not scared, he just - he just wants to give this feeling to derek, show him how much he actually loves him. he wants to fill him with the love he feels for him.
stiles - crowds derek. he kisses him hard, taking his hands and pressing them flat against his abs so he can guide him backwards, pushing him gently but with intent toward the opposite wall. when derek can go no further, stiles presses himself in close, his cock hard against derek's hip and his tongue begging at the seam of derek's lips. ]