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"Thanks," Stiles said to the Uber driver as the guy handed them their bags. Both of which Derek snatched up before Stiles even had a chance to grab one. Stiles chuckled at his boyfriend.
Boyfriend.
He was still getting used to saying that. A few months ago, they were roommates with a tentative friendship, mainly because Stiles thought Derek kind of hated him. Okay, hate is probably a strong word. More like Derek only put up with him because of their close proximity.
Stiles had no idea that Derek—his insanely attractive alpha werewolf roommate that literally everyone had the hots for—was harboring a crush on him, of all people. On Stiles Stilinski, the goofy, sarcastic, could barely walk two feet without tripping on air disaster of a human. Even if it seemed like a majority of the alphas on campus also suddenly seemed interested in him.
None of them compared to Derek.
He could still remember the way Derek’s words were somehow both hopeful and despondent as he’d looked at Stiles and said, 'I'm in love with you.'
Thinking back, Stiles could see that it had been a long time coming. They were drawn to each other from the moment they met but kept each other at arm's length because neither wanted to be hurt. But then Derek, who had spent most of his pre-Stiles life keeping people at arm's length, handed his heart over to Stiles without a second thought. Even if it seemed like he hadn't really meant to say it.
There were no takebacks after that.
Not when Stiles threw himself at Derek and kissed him. Not when Stiles had said, 'I love you too.'
"Babe."
Derek's voice drew Stiles out of his thoughts. He looked up, meeting Derek's gaze, and smiled. "Sorry."
"It's okay. You good?" Derek asked, concern etched across his unfairly handsome face. He probably sensed Stiles's nerves getting the better of him, but how else was Stiles supposed to be when he was bringing his boyfriend home for the first time? "Thought I was supposed to be the nervous one."
Stiles chuckled, pulling his keys from his pockets, and led Derek to the front door. "You're never nervous."
Not even when Derek brought Stiles home during Christmas. No, Stiles had been a nervous wreck then, too.
Now it was Derek's turn to chuckle. "I can assure you, I'm plenty nervous to meet your dad. The Sheriff," he said as if Stiles needed reminding. Derek kissed the side of his head. "You know, the man who carries a gun loaded with wolfsbane bullets."
God, Derek was so good at this. At calming him down. Stiles put his key in the lock, smiling at the familiar click as he turned it. It was good to be home. "You're a dork. And he promised to leave the wolfsbane bullets at work."
Derek nuzzled Stiles's neck and a warmth spread throughout his body. He pushed open the door to reveal his family's house. It was exactly as Stiles remembered it, but at the same time, everything was different. He was home, but Derek was with him. He was bringing his boyfriend home, and it felt...right.
He stepped into the entryway, Derek right behind him, and smiled. Taking a deep breath, Stiles turned to Derek. "Ready?"
Derek grinned. "Yeah."
Stiles gave him a quick kiss before calling out, "Dad? Dad, I'm home."
But he was met with silence. He even looked to Derek for confirmation.
Derek tilted his head to the side, like he was listening for any little sound but then shook his head. "It's just us here."
Stiles went over to the front window because he hadn't paid attention when they came in, and sure enough, the cruiser wasn't in the driveway. Which just showed where his headspace was at if he missed that. "Shit. He must have gotten called into work."
Because they had talked earlier, and his dad had even offered to pick them up from the airport, but Stiles insisted on taking an Uber. He didn't want his dad and Derek to meet at an airport surrounded by a bunch of strangers.
"Well, I say we take advantage of the free time." Derek came up behind him, wrapping his arms around Stiles and pulling him close. He kissed Stiles just below his ear, on that spot that always made his knees weak. "You could show me your room. You said you had some things you wanted to tick off your list."
Stiles smiled, already feeling less stressed, and nodded because yes. His list.
Before Derek, Stiles had never really dated. Sure, he went out on a date or two here and there, but nothing ever came of it. The relationships were never serious enough that Stiles brought them home, so there had been no heated make-out sessions on the living room couch—and certainly not in his childhood bedroom.
It was a travesty.
So, needless to say, since his dad wasn't home, Stiles was definitely going to take advantage of this opportunity.
He practically dragged Derek through the house and up the stairs to his room, barely stopping to point things out. Derek was smart. A kitchen, living room, and dining room were staples in any household. Right now, all Stiles wanted was Derek in his bed.
And as soon as they got to his room, Stiles slammed the door shut and plastered himself to Derek, kissing him deeply—nerves all but forgotten.
Derek chuckled against his lips, gripping his hips as he stepped forward, pressing Stiles against the door. "So eager already."
"Can't help it." Stiles's fingers went straight to Derek's pants, but Derek shoved his leg between Stiles's thighs, grinding against him, making Stiles lose all train of thought.
Seriously, every thought just flew away like dust in the wind. Especially when Derek mouthed at his neck. He loved leaving marks all over Stiles, letting everyone know that Stiles was taken.
Stiles had to laugh at that because it most definitely worked. Most of the alphas that had once gone out of their way to talk to him had suddenly disappeared once it was obvious that Stiles and Derek were dating. Not that Stiles minded at all. They were entitled jackasses who thought they were special just because they were alphas. The few who still talked to him were also friendly with Derek now. Though Derek still had trouble remembering their names, a power move that made Stiles roll his eyes—fondly, of course.
Honestly, Stiles loved how possessive Derek got. He loved when Derek would growl if someone got too close to him. He loved every mark Derek left on his body, even though their friends gave him shit for it. If Stiles could mark Derek the same way, he absolutely would.
Because Derek was his. Derek made his heart skip a beat, made him feel loved and wanted. He'd never felt like this before and never wanted it to end.
Stiles hissed when Derek bit down particularly hard on his neck, the sting going straight to his cock.
Okay, clearly not all thoughts had left his brain if he had a chance to get lost in them.
"Fuck. Do that again," Stiles pleaded, baring his neck even more. But the pleasure-pain he asked for never came. Instead, Derek slid his hands down Stiles's sides. Stiles instinctively jumped, wrapping his legs around Derek's waist, moaning when Derek squeezed his ass.
Derek kissed him, and Stiles got lost in the sensation—at the way Derek moaned when their tongues moved together. How his breathing became erratic and shallow. At the way Derek's hands slipped under his shirt, shamelessly roaming his body.
Stiles tried to rut against him, but he was unceremoniously dumped onto his bed, bouncing once before Derek gripped his ankle, pulling him down a little. Stiles yelped at the manhandling but also loved it. Loved whenever Derek was playful like this.
The bed dipped when Derek crawled between his spread legs, and Stiles smiled up at him when Derek hovered just above him. "Hi."
Derek leaned down, brushing their noses together before kissing him softly. His breath ghosted over Stiles's face as he whispered, "Hey, yourself."
Stiles giggled—like a legitimate schoolgirl giggle that he'd typically be embarrassed about if there were anyone else besides Derek in the room. But he knew he had no reason to be self-conscious around Derek. Derek loved him and all his ridiculousness. He even encouraged it most times.
"I still can't believe you've never had anyone in here before," Derek said, looking around the room.
Stiles tracked his gaze from the Star Wars posters on the wall to his high school lacrosse jersey slung over the back of his desk chair. He managed a shrug, wondering what Derek thought of his childhood bedroom. It was vastly different from Derek's—where there was a place for everything and everything in its place.
Derek's gaze met his again. "Is it weird that it's kind of turning me on to know I'm the first guy you've brought home?"
Stiles snorted, the noise quickly turning to a moan when Derek ground their hips together. "N-No. Not weird. I'll admit, I was a little jealous when your sister mentioned your ex while I was staying with you during winter break."
He'd have loved to have been the first person Derek introduced to his family, but Derek had a life before they met. The asshole.
Derek chuckled as if he knew precisely what Stiles was thinking and pressed a soft kiss to his lips. "You don't have to be jealous. You're my world, Stiles."
It really felt like his heart just might burst because Stiles felt the same. So he smiled and nodded. "Now where were we?"
"I think we were—" Derek leaned down, brushing his nose along Stiles's jaw. His eyes twinkled with mischief as he slid a hand down Stiles's stomach, fingers dipping under the band of his pants. "Right here."
"Fuck." Stiles arched his back, fisting the sheets as he waited for Derek to do something.
And Derek didn't disappoint. He dragged his teeth over the mark he'd left earlier, sucking until Stiles was on the brink of coming. Then, as if Derek knew Stiles was about to lose control, he moved. All that delicious weight disappeared off him, making Stiles whine.
His head fell back onto the pillow in disappointment. Derek's name was on the tip of his tongue, ready to be cursed, but before he could get it out, Derek leaned down and kissed him—a sweet and gentle kiss that only made Stiles love him even more.
"So impatient," Derek murmured against his lips, and the only reason Stiles didn't still curse his name was that Derek was shirtless. All those glorious muscles were on display, shifting and bunching as Derek moved.
"Can't help it," Stiles said, whimpering when Derek's hands slid up his sides, pushing Stiles's shirt up up up until Stiles had no choice but to raise his arms so Derek could pull it off.
Derek tossed the shirt to the side, grimacing when it hit Stiles's lamp, which thankfully didn't fall. "Oops?"
Stiles laughed, wrapping his legs around Derek’s waist. "Not the worse thing that's happened in here."
"Oh yeah?" Derek asked, pressing a trail of wet, open-mouthed kisses over Stiles's shoulder that made Stiles bite down on his bottom lip. "Do tell."
"Well," Stiles said, snorting when Derek blew a raspberry against his neck. "I tripped over my lacrosse stick once. It sent me straight into my closet," he pointed at his closet, which had those cheap bi-fold doors, "and knocked the doors off the tracks."
"That doesn't sound so bad." Derek continued his trail down Stiles's body, stopping to lick and suck on Stiles's nipples.
It sent a shiver down Stiles's spine and made his cock strain against his jeans. His voice came out rough—laced with so much lust that it wasn't surprising that Derek's eyes flashed crimson. They always did when Stiles was aroused. "Yeah, well, it wouldn't have been, except when I tried to get up, the door fell out of the closet, hit my desk chair, knocking it over. One of the wheels was loose and somehow went flying and broke my window."
Derek stopped in his tracks, probably wondering how the fuck all that had managed to happen. "I—"
Stiles pressed a finger to Derek's lips. "Shh…I don't know either. It just happened."
Derek bit his fingertip gently before sucking on it. It really wasn't fair that something as simple as that made Stiles shudder, but at the same time, it was Derek doing it, so—
Well, just so.
Derek could recite the alphabet and Stiles would sit there drooling for more. Most people probably would, but they didn't matter because Derek only wanted him.
Stiles missed the wet heat of Derek's mouth, but it was fine because Derek began kissing down his chest again.
"Derek," Stiles whined because he wanted more. Needed it. "Please. I need it. I need you."
Derek growled, then there were pinpricks on his hips from Derek's claws, and Stiles smirked. He knew how much Derek loved hearing him beg. Knew it made him lose control. So he did it again. Whimpering and pleading for more until they were both finally naked.
Then it was game over as Derek took what he wanted until pleasure lit up Stiles's entire body. Until all that was left was them curled around each other, completely sated.
For a moment, Stiles lay there—perfectly still. Taking in the silence and warmth that surrounded them. Unfortunately, the moment was broken when there was a knock on his door. His bedroom door. And the only person who would even be home right now would be—
"Stiles," his dad's voice called through the closed door. "If you're done, why don't you boys join me downstairs? I'd love to meet your boyfriend now."
"Fuck." Stiles scrambled out of bed, arms flailing as he grabbed his clothes, hastily putting them on before opening the door a crack. "He-ey, dad. You're home early. I mean, totally wasn't expecting you here."
His dad raised an unimpressed brow and crossed his arms. "That's funny because when we talked this morning, I told you I'd be here."
Stiles chuckled, scratching the side of his neck nervously. "I…thought you got called in?"
That earned him one of those looks like his dad was contemplating all his life's choices.
"Well, you weren't here, were you?" Stiles continued because his foot was already in his mouth, so why not?
"I went to the grocery store to get food." The smirk on his dad's face made Stiles narrow his eyes.
"What kind of food?" he asked, mimicking his dad's stance with his arms crossed over his chest.
"Steak."
Before Stiles could even open his mouth to protest his dad’s food choices, Derek slid an arm around his waist, simultaneously pulling Stiles back and opening the door more. "Sheriff Stilinski. It's nice to meet you, sir. I'm Derek Hale."
Derek thrust his hand out, and Stiles bit his lip in worry, but it only lasted a second before his dad took Derek's hand.
"Nice to meet you, son. You don't have to be so formal here. Just Sheriff will do."
Stiles groaned, throwing his head back against Derek's shoulder. "Da-ad. Seriously?"
His dad chuckled, clasping him on the shoulder and pulling him into a hug. "It's good to see you, kiddo. Missed you around here."
"I missed you too." Stiles held his dad tightly.
"Well, I'm gonna get the grill started," his dad said, pulling away. "See you boys when you're ready to come down."
Stiles nodded as his dad walked away, unable to wipe the huge grin off his face as he glanced back at Derek.
"Shower first?" he asked, and Derek nodded, pressing a kiss to Stiles's temple.
"Yeah."
He smiled and grabbed Derek's hand, walking into the bathroom, trying hard to not get lost in the moment. Derek was here, and his dad had welcomed Derek like family—even called him son.
And though they still had dinner to get through and probably an interrogation of some sort, Stiles was happy.