[ stiles wants him to stay. derek's teeth, razor-sharp and serrated, scratch subtle, white lines down the thin, easily tearable skin of his neck, and stiles still just wants him to stay. derek breathes out in heavy, hard pants, crooning little moans and grunts against him as stiles' fingers tangle in his hair, and his whole body feels like an exposed nerve ending. he's heightened and sensitive and alive. the full moon itches at his skin, even from here, hidden inside and out of its reach. he's not coherent enough to wonder how much worse this could be if they were under the full burst of its light.
the noise stiles makes when he's forced up against the wall is almost enough to make derek come. that little noise, tense and thin, like he's fucking submissive, like strong-willed, independent stiles is helpless and horny, all for him - it's almost too much for derek to bear. it's breathtaking. derek wants more. he pins him to the wall even tighter.
stiles makes another noise as derek enters more of him, and then another, and another, and the tiles shudder beneath derek's feet as his leg trembles, bouncing his heel against them, thudding a repetitive echo through the shower. he curls his toes and his fingertips and makes himself calm down, pressing his cheek against stiles shoulder for support and scratching him with sharp, wet stubble. stiles' hand pressed over his makes derek feel like he's melting.
derek pushes in more, and more, and more, one millimetre, then another, and stiles suddenly whines out in pain, making derek go completely stock still with an alarmed start. his mind is telling him, distantly, with whatever capability it has for coherent thought left, that he needs to pull out before stiles hurts - but stiles says don't take it, stiles tells him to stay, stiles tells him he wants to feel the pain, and derek almost loses his fucking mind.
he nods. he nods, even though stiles can't really see him, and he kisses up his back again, over his scar, up to his shoulder. stiles reaches back and gives him a lopsided, incomplete kiss, and when he tells him he loves him, derek just - whines.
stiles fucks himself on derek.
it's a lot. it's too much, when derek's so hypersensitive already, so desperate for touch. derek's heaving breaths against stiles' ear, and it's hard to say if he sounds like he's drowning, desperately trying to stay above the water, or if he's been hunting like an animal, running on all fours through the woods until his body gave out from exertion. he rests against stiles' shoulder and looks like he's the one getting fucked, with half-lidded eyes glossed over with lust. stiles eases back on derek's cock and derek looks like he's having a fucking religious experience. ]
More. Stiles.
[ he's done his best to make this easy for stiles, but - he - can't, not anymore. he needs to fuck stiles, needs him now. derek stands up, stretching out his spine. derek takes the arm he has wrapped around stiles' stomach and splays it out on his lower back, instead, pushing him down and silently urging him to arch his back. his other hand reaches up to stiles' hair, grabbing a fistful of it, and lightly, very lightly, he pulls, arching stiles' neck back. he pushes forward with his hips, fucking stiles into the wall with one hard, brutal jolt, and as he fucks a full inch and a half of his cock past the rim of his entrance, Derek's eyes roll into the back of his head.
he's swearing. maybe. he can't tell, he might have blacked out for a second. derek's chest hurts. roughly, derek starts to find a rhythm, dragging the head of his cock back through the tight passage of stiles' hole, pulling out to the ring. he grunts, pushes his hand forward, pressing stiles' face against the wall. ]
Stiles--
[ he's starting to swell. he can feel it - not just at the base of his cock, but all of him. he's getting bigger, thicker, inside stiles. derek's hips are moving on their own accord, getting faster, pressing deeper, stretching out stiles well past his body's limit, and the more he does, the more of him that fills stiles up, the bigger, more difficult it gets. derek hunches forward again, heaving those same heavy, almost violent breaths, and he tugs stiles' hair again to have better access to his throat from the side. he kisses him, just once, violent but tender. he's barely half inside of stiles, and he feels like he's too much for him.
but - ]
Stiles, there's-- more of me.
[ and - and he doesn't know if stiles is going to be able to handle it, he doesn't know if it's going to hurt too much. being knotted. derek keeps fucking him, because he can't fucking help it, he doesn't think he can stop, not now, but maybe-- maybe it's already too much. ]
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the noise stiles makes when he's forced up against the wall is almost enough to make derek come. that little noise, tense and thin, like he's fucking submissive, like strong-willed, independent stiles is helpless and horny, all for him - it's almost too much for derek to bear. it's breathtaking. derek wants more. he pins him to the wall even tighter.
stiles makes another noise as derek enters more of him, and then another, and another, and the tiles shudder beneath derek's feet as his leg trembles, bouncing his heel against them, thudding a repetitive echo through the shower. he curls his toes and his fingertips and makes himself calm down, pressing his cheek against stiles shoulder for support and scratching him with sharp, wet stubble. stiles' hand pressed over his makes derek feel like he's melting.
derek pushes in more, and more, and more, one millimetre, then another, and stiles suddenly whines out in pain, making derek go completely stock still with an alarmed start. his mind is telling him, distantly, with whatever capability it has for coherent thought left, that he needs to pull out before stiles hurts - but stiles says don't take it, stiles tells him to stay, stiles tells him he wants to feel the pain, and derek almost loses his fucking mind.
he nods. he nods, even though stiles can't really see him, and he kisses up his back again, over his scar, up to his shoulder. stiles reaches back and gives him a lopsided, incomplete kiss, and when he tells him he loves him, derek just - whines.
stiles fucks himself on derek.
it's a lot. it's too much, when derek's so hypersensitive already, so desperate for touch. derek's heaving breaths against stiles' ear, and it's hard to say if he sounds like he's drowning, desperately trying to stay above the water, or if he's been hunting like an animal, running on all fours through the woods until his body gave out from exertion. he rests against stiles' shoulder and looks like he's the one getting fucked, with half-lidded eyes glossed over with lust. stiles eases back on derek's cock and derek looks like he's having a fucking religious experience. ]
More. Stiles.
[ he's done his best to make this easy for stiles, but - he - can't, not anymore. he needs to fuck stiles, needs him now. derek stands up, stretching out his spine. derek takes the arm he has wrapped around stiles' stomach and splays it out on his lower back, instead, pushing him down and silently urging him to arch his back. his other hand reaches up to stiles' hair, grabbing a fistful of it, and lightly, very lightly, he pulls, arching stiles' neck back. he pushes forward with his hips, fucking stiles into the wall with one hard, brutal jolt, and as he fucks a full inch and a half of his cock past the rim of his entrance, Derek's eyes roll into the back of his head.
he's swearing. maybe. he can't tell, he might have blacked out for a second. derek's chest hurts. roughly, derek starts to find a rhythm, dragging the head of his cock back through the tight passage of stiles' hole, pulling out to the ring. he grunts, pushes his hand forward, pressing stiles' face against the wall. ]
Stiles--
[ he's starting to swell. he can feel it - not just at the base of his cock, but all of him. he's getting bigger, thicker, inside stiles. derek's hips are moving on their own accord, getting faster, pressing deeper, stretching out stiles well past his body's limit, and the more he does, the more of him that fills stiles up, the bigger, more difficult it gets. derek hunches forward again, heaving those same heavy, almost violent breaths, and he tugs stiles' hair again to have better access to his throat from the side. he kisses him, just once, violent but tender. he's barely half inside of stiles, and he feels like he's too much for him.
but - ]
Stiles, there's-- more of me.
[ and - and he doesn't know if stiles is going to be able to handle it, he doesn't know if it's going to hurt too much. being knotted. derek keeps fucking him, because he can't fucking help it, he doesn't think he can stop, not now, but maybe-- maybe it's already too much. ]