[ this is torture, but it's the kind of torture that happens so slowly, drawn out and measured and disguised as something desirable that torture just seems like too harsh of a word for it. derek's consistently inconsistent, teasingly slow and soft one minute, firm and fast the next, but always keeping him right in that sweet spot being too relaxed and too awake. he feels - sleepy and warm and quietly needy. frustrated, disgustingly in love.
derek almost kills the mood. well, not really, because stiles is too into this gentle, lazy affection thing they've got going on right now to let it die so easily, but his hips go from pushing forward in slow, easy pulses to completely still. his face screws up a little bit, but it's hard for him to hide the resigned amusement he feels toward derek and his stupid fucking commentary.
he pinches his nipple in retaliation, gentler than he should. derek... still knew what he was talking about, even if he somehow evaded the whole point of the question, but - still a turn on. derek being mostly accurate about something star wars related definitely still does something for him. ]
No, it's not a— god, shut up, don't - don't ruin this.
[ 'this' having less to do with movie trivia and more to do with derek's hand on his dick, but still. he pushes his hips forward again, slides his cock through derek's fist just in case he needs the clarification. he lifts his body as helpfully as he can manage to help derek ease his boxers down, sighing with a little bit of relief as he freed from the restrictiveness of his underwear.
it's not the light drag of fingertips that makes him shiver, but the kiss derek brushes against his mouth. it's so soft and so gentle and sleepy that stiles almost melts into it, eyes sliding closed just as derek fits his hand back around his crown, slick with precome. he whimpers softly, catching the note in the back of his throat, and when derek leans back, stiles chases after him for a moment without realizing it, not ready for him to stop kissing him like that just yet.
derek starts to say something though, so stiles does his best to be polite and lets him speak, backing off a little so he can look at him, tongue wetting his lower lip. he likes that it's dark - it feels more intimate, and he can still make derek out in the very low light, but right now he kind of wishes he could see the color of his eyes and not just the murky, unsaturated blur of his iris.
stiles huffs a weak little laugh, adjusting his arm underneath his pillow so it doesn't start to fall asleep on him. he laughs because he needs to stall - because he honestly doesn't have a sure answer for derek. on the one hand - he does really enjoy being right about shit, but on the other hand, being surprised by derek's range of pop culture knowledge is pretty fucking special, too.
stiles bites at his lip, dragging his hand down the front of derek's torso, over to his hip where he squeezes. ]
It - mh. Depends on what we're talking about. You still haven't really answered my question. We could - we could find out. What's the full line? C'mon.
no subject
derek almost kills the mood. well, not really, because stiles is too into this gentle, lazy affection thing they've got going on right now to let it die so easily, but his hips go from pushing forward in slow, easy pulses to completely still. his face screws up a little bit, but it's hard for him to hide the resigned amusement he feels toward derek and his stupid fucking commentary.
he pinches his nipple in retaliation, gentler than he should. derek... still knew what he was talking about, even if he somehow evaded the whole point of the question, but - still a turn on. derek being mostly accurate about something star wars related definitely still does something for him. ]
No, it's not a— god, shut up, don't - don't ruin this.
[ 'this' having less to do with movie trivia and more to do with derek's hand on his dick, but still. he pushes his hips forward again, slides his cock through derek's fist just in case he needs the clarification. he lifts his body as helpfully as he can manage to help derek ease his boxers down, sighing with a little bit of relief as he freed from the restrictiveness of his underwear.
it's not the light drag of fingertips that makes him shiver, but the kiss derek brushes against his mouth. it's so soft and so gentle and sleepy that stiles almost melts into it, eyes sliding closed just as derek fits his hand back around his crown, slick with precome. he whimpers softly, catching the note in the back of his throat, and when derek leans back, stiles chases after him for a moment without realizing it, not ready for him to stop kissing him like that just yet.
derek starts to say something though, so stiles does his best to be polite and lets him speak, backing off a little so he can look at him, tongue wetting his lower lip. he likes that it's dark - it feels more intimate, and he can still make derek out in the very low light, but right now he kind of wishes he could see the color of his eyes and not just the murky, unsaturated blur of his iris.
stiles huffs a weak little laugh, adjusting his arm underneath his pillow so it doesn't start to fall asleep on him. he laughs because he needs to stall - because he honestly doesn't have a sure answer for derek. on the one hand - he does really enjoy being right about shit, but on the other hand, being surprised by derek's range of pop culture knowledge is pretty fucking special, too.
stiles bites at his lip, dragging his hand down the front of derek's torso, over to his hip where he squeezes. ]
It - mh. Depends on what we're talking about. You still haven't really answered my question. We could - we could find out. What's the full line? C'mon.