[ stiles' hand immediately stops at the base of his dick, fingers squeezing tight. his face flushes with color just as his veins flood with a fresh, hot wave of heavy desire, breath catching lightly. his brain stops for a moment, and then hones in, narrowing down further and further from if hugh jackman wanted you to come in his mouth half as much as i want you to come in mine to half as much as i want you to come in mind to i want you to come in mine and he just - he whines. he whimpers, and it's thin and pathetic holding onto the root of his dick with a tight fist, he probably would have come right there. done, over, the end. good night.
for whatever reason, he hadn't pictured this ending with him coming in derek's mouth. he hadn't really pictured this ever happening to him, if he's honest, not for real. not outside of the handful of fantasies he may or may not have entertained in the middle of the night when he was sixteen, freshly seventeen. eighteen. but derek just - says it, like that's been the plan all along and stiles has never wanted anything so badly in his entire god damn life. which probably isn't true. there are things he's wanted more, but right now he feels like the possibility of not coming in derek's mouth is just - unacceptable now.
stiles shivers a little, gently easing his grip a little, just in case he's still too close. he tries for a laugh, but he just sounds dumb and awkward, his voice sandpapery. ]
You couldn't - pay me enough to come in s-someone else's mouth over yours. Jesus - christ.
[ and hugh jackman is probably loaded, so that's saying something. something like - money is irrelevant. fame is irrelevant. derek is so - fucking attractive that it hurts, sometimes. something like that. stiles is still just thinking about his dick in derek's mouth, down his throat. god. his thighs flex when derek's stubble scrapes over his thighs, his lips soft against his skin. he grunts quietly when derek pulls him closer, taking away any possibility of him leaning back against the couch anymore, his shirt riding up just a little with the drag, exposing his lower stomach from just above his navel and down. stiles doesn't bother tugging it down, doesn't even really notice.
stiles balances his weight on his elbows at first, shoulders inched up a bit toward his ears. he slaps at derek's hand lazily, playfully when derek bats his away, legs spread just the way derek positioned them, like it hasn't even really registered for stiles yet just how vulnerable and exposed he is. he's too distracted anyway, first by the kiss derek presses to the base of his cock, and then by the warmth of his tongue as he laps up to the tip. stiles sighs, tilts his head back a little as he exhales, eyes drifting closed, and then derek sinks his mouth around him and he hums like he's tasting his favorite desert and stiles can't sit up anymore.
he flops back with a rushed breath, lifting his arms and crossing them lazily above his head, shirt dragging up an inch more, knees bent and parted, skin warm and lightly flushed, and derek works him. derek builds him up and up and inches him closer and closer, but every time stiles thinks he's about to come, every time he decides he's fucking ready for it, derek eases him, teases him away from it and it drives stiles - crazy. he starts to feel a little crazy with it, with the need to come, to flood derek's mouth like he's imagined so many times before, the way derek wants him to, and if he pushes his fingers into derek's hair once or twice in a poor attempt to keep him from pulling away— if he can't hold back a tiny, frustrated growl in the back of his throat, if he fucks up into derek's mouth once when he thinks derek's about to leave him hanging again, well. he can hardly be blamed for derek's teasing.
he's red by the time derek takes his mouth off of him, maybe darker than derek is, and his skin is a little tacky with sweat by his temples and near the base of his throat, the center of his chest where his shirt is just a shade darker than the rest of it. he's not quite panting, but he keeps taking deeper breaths, like he's on the tail-end of a cool-down after running a couple miles. stiles scrubs a hand down over his face, down his throat, settles his hand against his chest for a moment like he's checking if his heart is still beating. it is. ]
God, [ he starts, and it's breathy and weak and he doesn't finish the rest of whatever it was he was planning to say. i hate you, maybe, for torturing him like this, for making him feel so, so fucking good, but never letting him find that sweet, sweet explosive release that he feels stupidly desperate for. i love you, maybe, for all the same reasons.
it takes some effort to lift himself back up onto his elbows, but he wants to look at derek and he wants to know why he stopped. he kind of wants to shove derek's face, smush his stupid, beautiful, insanely sexy stupid dumb grin. he doesn't, though, or maybe that's his intention when he lifts his hand, but he just ends up pushing his fingers through derek's hair kind of clumsily, a low, pleased hum vibrating at the base of his throat. his hand falls away, and stiles pulls his arm back so he can prop his weight back on both elbows again, watching with half-lidded eyes as derek kisses his thighs.
this has to be a dream. this is too good to be an actual thing that's happening to him right now. like, the barracks was one thing, but this? this is different, somehow, and too much for stiles, too good for him.
derek sits up and stiles is still kind of stupid with lust, a little panicky for a split second that derek's done. that he's just gonna leave him there with a painfully hard dick and let him finish himself off - which he is very capable of doing but derek put the idea of coming in his mouth in stiles' head and he still wants that. he still wants that so bad that he's almost willing to beg for it, which is gross and pathetic but he kind of doesn't care too much about looking pathetic right now. his eyebrows pinch in the center and his mouth starts to twist--
--but then derek reaches and he presses his fingers to stiles lips and he tells him to suck. he commands him, his voice firm and authoritative and stiles cock instantly leaks a little pre. he's hit with another sharp wave of arousal, knees shifting slightly as he subconscious inches his knees a little bit further apart.
stiles stares up at derek. he looks up at derek with his fingers still presses to his mouth and his pupils are slightly blown, heart rate spiking up a couple more beats per minute. his fingers flex slowly at his sides, sliding over the carpet, and he just keeps - staring. when he finally blinks, it's like he's sliding out of a trance. he tilts his weight back over onto one elbow, lifts his hand, curls his fingers around derek's wrist, and with a much confidence he can muster - which honestly isn't very much, especially because he's not entirely sure what derek is aiming for here -, he opens his mouth.
he licks the pads of derek's fingers are first, tentative as he drags the flat of his tongue from the first knuckle to the tips. okay, not weird so far. well, only a tiny bit weird, but that's only because he's nervous about - looking like an idiot. like more of an idiot than usual. embarrassing himself. but it's not weird enough and derek doesn't laugh at him so he keeps going. he wets his lips, glances up from derek's hand for a moment to look at his face, and then he just. does what he's told. he opens his mouth and he tilts his chin down a fraction and he leans forward, taking both of derek's fingers into his mouth to the second knuckle before he closes his lips around them.
stiles just lets them sit there on his tongue for a moment, adjusting to the feeling of having someone's fingers in his mouth. his throat flexes a little even though derek's fingertips are nowhere near it, but he's got a little bit of strong gag reflex, and ignoring it just makes his mouth water in anticipation. he breathes out through his nose, and then finally, he adds a little suction and pulls his head back, dragging the tip of his tongue along the seam between derek's fingers, slicking them up. he doesn't necessarily feel uncomfortable about it, but he does feel - shy, and he can't look at derek, eyes downcast as he focuses on the curl of his hand around derek's wrist instead. ]
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for whatever reason, he hadn't pictured this ending with him coming in derek's mouth. he hadn't really pictured this ever happening to him, if he's honest, not for real. not outside of the handful of fantasies he may or may not have entertained in the middle of the night when he was sixteen, freshly seventeen. eighteen. but derek just - says it, like that's been the plan all along and stiles has never wanted anything so badly in his entire god damn life. which probably isn't true. there are things he's wanted more, but right now he feels like the possibility of not coming in derek's mouth is just - unacceptable now.
stiles shivers a little, gently easing his grip a little, just in case he's still too close. he tries for a laugh, but he just sounds dumb and awkward, his voice sandpapery. ]
You couldn't - pay me enough to come in s-someone else's mouth over yours. Jesus - christ.
[ and hugh jackman is probably loaded, so that's saying something. something like - money is irrelevant. fame is irrelevant. derek is so - fucking attractive that it hurts, sometimes. something like that. stiles is still just thinking about his dick in derek's mouth, down his throat. god. his thighs flex when derek's stubble scrapes over his thighs, his lips soft against his skin. he grunts quietly when derek pulls him closer, taking away any possibility of him leaning back against the couch anymore, his shirt riding up just a little with the drag, exposing his lower stomach from just above his navel and down. stiles doesn't bother tugging it down, doesn't even really notice.
stiles balances his weight on his elbows at first, shoulders inched up a bit toward his ears. he slaps at derek's hand lazily, playfully when derek bats his away, legs spread just the way derek positioned them, like it hasn't even really registered for stiles yet just how vulnerable and exposed he is. he's too distracted anyway, first by the kiss derek presses to the base of his cock, and then by the warmth of his tongue as he laps up to the tip. stiles sighs, tilts his head back a little as he exhales, eyes drifting closed, and then derek sinks his mouth around him and he hums like he's tasting his favorite desert and stiles can't sit up anymore.
he flops back with a rushed breath, lifting his arms and crossing them lazily above his head, shirt dragging up an inch more, knees bent and parted, skin warm and lightly flushed, and derek works him. derek builds him up and up and inches him closer and closer, but every time stiles thinks he's about to come, every time he decides he's fucking ready for it, derek eases him, teases him away from it and it drives stiles - crazy. he starts to feel a little crazy with it, with the need to come, to flood derek's mouth like he's imagined so many times before, the way derek wants him to, and if he pushes his fingers into derek's hair once or twice in a poor attempt to keep him from pulling away— if he can't hold back a tiny, frustrated growl in the back of his throat, if he fucks up into derek's mouth once when he thinks derek's about to leave him hanging again, well. he can hardly be blamed for derek's teasing.
he's red by the time derek takes his mouth off of him, maybe darker than derek is, and his skin is a little tacky with sweat by his temples and near the base of his throat, the center of his chest where his shirt is just a shade darker than the rest of it. he's not quite panting, but he keeps taking deeper breaths, like he's on the tail-end of a cool-down after running a couple miles. stiles scrubs a hand down over his face, down his throat, settles his hand against his chest for a moment like he's checking if his heart is still beating. it is. ]
God, [ he starts, and it's breathy and weak and he doesn't finish the rest of whatever it was he was planning to say. i hate you, maybe, for torturing him like this, for making him feel so, so fucking good, but never letting him find that sweet, sweet explosive release that he feels stupidly desperate for. i love you, maybe, for all the same reasons.
it takes some effort to lift himself back up onto his elbows, but he wants to look at derek and he wants to know why he stopped. he kind of wants to shove derek's face, smush his stupid, beautiful, insanely sexy stupid dumb grin. he doesn't, though, or maybe that's his intention when he lifts his hand, but he just ends up pushing his fingers through derek's hair kind of clumsily, a low, pleased hum vibrating at the base of his throat. his hand falls away, and stiles pulls his arm back so he can prop his weight back on both elbows again, watching with half-lidded eyes as derek kisses his thighs.
this has to be a dream. this is too good to be an actual thing that's happening to him right now. like, the barracks was one thing, but this? this is different, somehow, and too much for stiles, too good for him.
derek sits up and stiles is still kind of stupid with lust, a little panicky for a split second that derek's done. that he's just gonna leave him there with a painfully hard dick and let him finish himself off - which he is very capable of doing but derek put the idea of coming in his mouth in stiles' head and he still wants that. he still wants that so bad that he's almost willing to beg for it, which is gross and pathetic but he kind of doesn't care too much about looking pathetic right now. his eyebrows pinch in the center and his mouth starts to twist--
--but then derek reaches and he presses his fingers to stiles lips and he tells him to suck. he commands him, his voice firm and authoritative and stiles cock instantly leaks a little pre. he's hit with another sharp wave of arousal, knees shifting slightly as he subconscious inches his knees a little bit further apart.
stiles stares up at derek. he looks up at derek with his fingers still presses to his mouth and his pupils are slightly blown, heart rate spiking up a couple more beats per minute. his fingers flex slowly at his sides, sliding over the carpet, and he just keeps - staring. when he finally blinks, it's like he's sliding out of a trance. he tilts his weight back over onto one elbow, lifts his hand, curls his fingers around derek's wrist, and with a much confidence he can muster - which honestly isn't very much, especially because he's not entirely sure what derek is aiming for here -, he opens his mouth.
he licks the pads of derek's fingers are first, tentative as he drags the flat of his tongue from the first knuckle to the tips. okay, not weird so far. well, only a tiny bit weird, but that's only because he's nervous about - looking like an idiot. like more of an idiot than usual. embarrassing himself. but it's not weird enough and derek doesn't laugh at him so he keeps going. he wets his lips, glances up from derek's hand for a moment to look at his face, and then he just. does what he's told. he opens his mouth and he tilts his chin down a fraction and he leans forward, taking both of derek's fingers into his mouth to the second knuckle before he closes his lips around them.
stiles just lets them sit there on his tongue for a moment, adjusting to the feeling of having someone's fingers in his mouth. his throat flexes a little even though derek's fingertips are nowhere near it, but he's got a little bit of strong gag reflex, and ignoring it just makes his mouth water in anticipation. he breathes out through his nose, and then finally, he adds a little suction and pulls his head back, dragging the tip of his tongue along the seam between derek's fingers, slicking them up. he doesn't necessarily feel uncomfortable about it, but he does feel - shy, and he can't look at derek, eyes downcast as he focuses on the curl of his hand around derek's wrist instead. ]