[ as stiles shifts closer, derek does the same. he inches forward, sliding his hand over stiles' waist and up the hem of his shirt, just - trying to get as much bare, physical contact as he can. there's still a part of him that worries about getting too close and triggering stiles' insecurity; even after the full moon, he's worried about pushing stiles too far. he's worried about pressuring him to take off his shirt when he's not ready, he's worried about touching parts of stiles' body that he's not entirely confident in.
but he fucking loves stiles. loves him more than anything. he loves him, and he wants to touch him, and he wants stiles to know he's as physically attractive as derek thinks he is. they've done this enough times now that derek doesn't really second guess himself or struggle with how to hold him, but when he slides his hand further and further up beneath stiles' shirt, letting it ride up a few inches in the dark, there is a part of him that wonders if stiles is going to stop him.
he splays his hand flat over stiles' chest, just - touching. stiles nudges against his jaw, laughs a breath against his throat, and derek swallows, adam's apple bobbing in the darkness. he leans forward, kissing the top of stiles' head, and he lets his hand drift down, drift lower, until it's right against his side. ]
Had other ideas, too. Like "sweetheart". Pretty gross, right?
[ he brushes his thumb over stiles' hip, making long, smooth strokes. in the dark, he can't see much of stiles without turning on the big, scary red headlights, but he can adjust pretty quickly. derek shuffles down the bed another few inches so they're closer, more face to face, and he can see stiles' eyelashes, the cute upward peak of his nose. he can see his lips, slightly apart.
derek wants to kiss him. he slips his fingertips down stiles' waistband, leaving his hand against his thigh, and it's - comfortable, more than sexual, like he's just trying to keep his hand warm. it's... just comfortable at first, at least. derek lets his hand sink a little lower. a little closer. ]
C'mon. Keep playing with me.
[ slowly - methodically - derek curls his hand around stiles' cock, letting it rest in his hand. very gently, and very practiced, he starts to jerk him off beneath his clothes, holding eye contact and keeping his voice as absolutely quiet as possible. this quiet, this warmth, this-- obvious attraction, this intense, unshakeable amount of love and pride he feels whenever he looks at stiles-- it reminds derek of the barracks, and he just... ]
Which letter is silent in scent? You didn't take a stance. Like a coward.
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but he fucking loves stiles. loves him more than anything. he loves him, and he wants to touch him, and he wants stiles to know he's as physically attractive as derek thinks he is. they've done this enough times now that derek doesn't really second guess himself or struggle with how to hold him, but when he slides his hand further and further up beneath stiles' shirt, letting it ride up a few inches in the dark, there is a part of him that wonders if stiles is going to stop him.
he splays his hand flat over stiles' chest, just - touching. stiles nudges against his jaw, laughs a breath against his throat, and derek swallows, adam's apple bobbing in the darkness. he leans forward, kissing the top of stiles' head, and he lets his hand drift down, drift lower, until it's right against his side. ]
Had other ideas, too. Like "sweetheart". Pretty gross, right?
[ he brushes his thumb over stiles' hip, making long, smooth strokes. in the dark, he can't see much of stiles without turning on the big, scary red headlights, but he can adjust pretty quickly. derek shuffles down the bed another few inches so they're closer, more face to face, and he can see stiles' eyelashes, the cute upward peak of his nose. he can see his lips, slightly apart.
derek wants to kiss him. he slips his fingertips down stiles' waistband, leaving his hand against his thigh, and it's - comfortable, more than sexual, like he's just trying to keep his hand warm. it's... just comfortable at first, at least. derek lets his hand sink a little lower. a little closer. ]
C'mon. Keep playing with me.
[ slowly - methodically - derek curls his hand around stiles' cock, letting it rest in his hand. very gently, and very practiced, he starts to jerk him off beneath his clothes, holding eye contact and keeping his voice as absolutely quiet as possible. this quiet, this warmth, this-- obvious attraction, this intense, unshakeable amount of love and pride he feels whenever he looks at stiles-- it reminds derek of the barracks, and he just... ]
Which letter is silent in scent? You didn't take a stance. Like a coward.