[ try as he might to believe otherwise, derek isn't, and never will be, han solo. he'd be flattered, if he knew stiles would choose him over literally the most charismatic dude in all of fucking space. he also wouldn't buy it, because it's han fucking solo, but he'd appreciate the lie.
stiles takes his shirt off without saying anything. that quiet nod, sure as it is, does wonders to ease some of the trepidation derek feels from asking, and any worries derek might have been feeling get slowly, warmly replaced by anticipation. they've screwed around like this before - but honestly, the full moon is kind of a blur. he's going to be completely sober, completely aware of himself, when stiles fucks him. he's going to feel this.
and that's-- thrilling. holy shit, he's hard.
there's something vulnerable about being fucked, about handing the lead over to someone else, but derek doesn't feel even the tiniest shred of fear. just - excitement. steadily waking him up. he wets his lips, feels his heartbeat pick up and his skin feel hot when stiles brushes a kiss over his chest, and it's not that he feels smaller, or like less of an Alpha, but he does feel, briefly, like he's giving up control. he - kind of likes that feeling.
stiles takes off his shirt and derek does his best not to laugh when it gets hooked over his elbow. he gets free, looks fucking adorable, and there's a second or two of awe as he just takes him in, sees the way his pale skin glows in the thin strips of moonlight bleeding in through the window. while stiles tugs on his pants and urges them off, derek obliges, leaning in to kiss the top of stiles' forehead again before he does. he eases away from stiles and draws his knees up, stripping himself of the rest of his clothes, and for the first time in a long time, he feels kind of self-conscious about being naked.
but - again - he wants this. he's excited.
derek lays down on his side right alongside stiles, his cock thick and heavy and hard, resting half on his stomach and half on the bed. experimentally, like he's still not sure if this is allowed, he brushes his fingertips up stiles' bare side, over his chest, back down his hip. he swallows, leaning forward, pressing his lips to stiles' thigh, closing his eyes and holding still for a second.
he eases back. he's resting his ear on stiles' leg, looking up at him from below, reaching down between his own legs to work the length of his cock in lazy, practiced swirls. he's more alert, but he doesn't want to ruin the atmosphere they've been making. slow, soft sleepiness, even now. he's not sure how long he'll be able to keep that going before he's begging stiles to really, really ruin him, but. for now, the cozy vibe they've built between them is working. ]
Tell me how you want me. On my back, or... maybe my hands and knees.
[ whatever stiles wants, stiles' get. derek strokes his cock a little faster, like he's enjoying the anticipation. he's not. he just wants to get fucked. ]
no subject
stiles takes his shirt off without saying anything. that quiet nod, sure as it is, does wonders to ease some of the trepidation derek feels from asking, and any worries derek might have been feeling get slowly, warmly replaced by anticipation. they've screwed around like this before - but honestly, the full moon is kind of a blur. he's going to be completely sober, completely aware of himself, when stiles fucks him. he's going to feel this.
and that's-- thrilling. holy shit, he's hard.
there's something vulnerable about being fucked, about handing the lead over to someone else, but derek doesn't feel even the tiniest shred of fear. just - excitement. steadily waking him up. he wets his lips, feels his heartbeat pick up and his skin feel hot when stiles brushes a kiss over his chest, and it's not that he feels smaller, or like less of an Alpha, but he does feel, briefly, like he's giving up control. he - kind of likes that feeling.
stiles takes off his shirt and derek does his best not to laugh when it gets hooked over his elbow. he gets free, looks fucking adorable, and there's a second or two of awe as he just takes him in, sees the way his pale skin glows in the thin strips of moonlight bleeding in through the window. while stiles tugs on his pants and urges them off, derek obliges, leaning in to kiss the top of stiles' forehead again before he does. he eases away from stiles and draws his knees up, stripping himself of the rest of his clothes, and for the first time in a long time, he feels kind of self-conscious about being naked.
but - again - he wants this. he's excited.
derek lays down on his side right alongside stiles, his cock thick and heavy and hard, resting half on his stomach and half on the bed. experimentally, like he's still not sure if this is allowed, he brushes his fingertips up stiles' bare side, over his chest, back down his hip. he swallows, leaning forward, pressing his lips to stiles' thigh, closing his eyes and holding still for a second.
he eases back. he's resting his ear on stiles' leg, looking up at him from below, reaching down between his own legs to work the length of his cock in lazy, practiced swirls. he's more alert, but he doesn't want to ruin the atmosphere they've been making. slow, soft sleepiness, even now. he's not sure how long he'll be able to keep that going before he's begging stiles to really, really ruin him, but. for now, the cozy vibe they've built between them is working. ]
Tell me how you want me. On my back, or... maybe my hands and knees.
[ whatever stiles wants, stiles' get. derek strokes his cock a little faster, like he's enjoying the anticipation. he's not. he just wants to get fucked. ]
I could ride you.