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Stiles felt a soft breeze brush his right ear.
He ignored it.
He heard the rustle of paper from behind but he stayed resolute not to give in to that asshole. The second he heard-and felt-the splat of saliva-coated balled paper on his nape was the point when he lost it. He turned and glared, “Do you mind?”
Derek just smirked. He pointedly rolled another ball and made a show of regurgitating the damn piece of paper inside his stupid mouth. Derek was a hot piece of ass all the time, Derek knew it, Stiles knew it, everyone with or without genitals knew it but at this moment, his annoying self was way way eclipsing his hotness.
Well not really, but that's not the point here. The point was uh, the point was...Stiles can't remember. The fact that his hot boyfriend was running his mouth along his neck wasn't really helping; Stiles just vaguely remembered something about class. Once the mouthing progressed to nipping Stiles gave up on all pretences of remembering cause he's a growing boy with needs okay.
Derek nosed at his ear and Stiles melted like a puddle of goo. This was his weak spot and Derek knew it like the back of his hand. What he was doing now is exactly reminiscent of the week he pushed Stiles too far with his spit balling.
At that time Derek was having too much fun metaphorically pulling Stiles pigtails he failed to notice the bad mood Stiles was in. It didn't occur to him that bothering him would get him a week of silent treatment. A week of Stiles not even acknowledging his existence. A week of not seeing that glare bouncing off his badass shield.
A week of not seeing those brown eyes flashing murder at him.
That led him to call out his name instead of pulling at his collar. That led him into leaning close to Stiles when he refused to look back. That also led him to discover Stiles’ zone when he accidentally slipped and his mouth landed on that one spot on his ear. Which led him to grunt and gruff his way to confessing his deep seated love slash boner to the boy who talks too much but Derek loved him anyway. Derek got to third base the very same day.
"Stiles," Derek wrapped his arms around his ribs and pulled him up to sit in between his legs on the edge of the bed. Now that he had him in his arms, he didn't waste any time shoving his hand underneath his shirt and touching all of that soft skin. His other hand skirted at his waistband, fingers dipping in every now and then. One particular dip had Stiles' foot accidentally kicking and a shower of papers from the floor came right down after.
Oh. Right, that was what he was doing. "Dammit Derek! Stop distracting me asshole, you know I gotta finish this asap," Stiles could've finished this way way earlier but Derek grumpiness didn't just stay in his broody moods, it apparently extended to whatever the hell that managed to take his attention away from Derek. Precisely why his shits were never done when Derek's around.
"No. Me. Mine. Stiles. Mine" great, he's reduced to monosyllables. He’d never get through to him now. Stiles sighed, "Okay, no Derek, listen!" Derek pulled his hand from cupping his crotch, "We do this right now I won't see you until Saturday. Either let me finish this now or you will have to make do with not seeing me for three days. Three. Days. Derek," Stiles made sure that Derek knew he meant it, "Do we have a deal?"
Stiles could feel the heat of his glare at the back of his neck but he’s ignoring that for now, he can’t keep on giving in because he knew Derek, if he kept on giving in Derek would never learn. Stiles knew he won when he felt Derek relax his grip around him and Stiles was able to slip down the floor, it didn’t mean he was doing it quietly though, the pitiful whine followed him as he gathered his papers on the floor. It got louder the longer Stiles ignored him until it ended with a sulky huff.
Once he had everything organised again he finally let himself lean against Derek’s legs, settling neatly at the space in between his knees and continued working. Two hour passed and Stiles was already three quarters done, he stretched to straighten the kinks in his neck and back. Derek’s thumbs pressed right on the spot and it felt heavenly. Derek continued on to work his magic as Stiles’ muscles got progressively languid and he was starting to droop down the floor. “Nuh-no Derek, gotta work,” he grabbed at the hand pressing at his muscles and pulled it forward, rubbing his face into the palm and dropping a kiss in the middle of it. He let it rest at the base of his throat, occasionally nuzzling into it as he continued his work.
Another hour and he’s already doing the last line, Stiles can’t believe he managed to finish this in three hours instead of the three day he initially estimated. Frankly speaking, Stiles was even more amazed by the amount of focus he had spared for this. The second he dotted the last line was the second Stiles found himself suddenly off the floor and his legs automatically going around Derek’s waist as he settled on his lap. He wound his arms around his neck for balance and that somehow translated into his hips resting snugly against Derek’s, and boy could he feel Derek.
Stiles stared into his dark eyes, noting his dilated pupils and laboured breathing. The pad of his forefinger traced the line going down his sharp nose, down his philtra and around the curve of his mouth. He rubbed at the soft indentation of his lips, slowly increasing the pressure until it gave and his finger slipped into hot wet heat. His tongue lapped at the tip of his finger until Derek deemed that he needed more and shoved in two more fingers into his mouth. Sucking hard on those long digits had Stiles breathing harshly through gaping lips, his eyes rolling to the back of his head and long, pale neck all up on display.
Derek growled, the next thing Stiles knew his shirt was pulled off his head and this time, Derek’s much longer, bigger, fingers were the ones to end up in his mouth. Stiles, well Stiles’ basically an oral guy and pretty much anything that had to do with his mouth, he had an aptitude for it. Sucking was one of his specialties if he did say so himself. The finger quickly multiplied but it didn’t stay as long as Stiles wanted it to, since he’s only wearing boxers, those fingers didn’t waste any time slipping underneath, playing at his furled entrance and kneading at his globes.
“Oh yes Der, that feels good,” his legs tightened and his hips ground against Derek’s own hardness, “Fuck babe, you always make me so hot. You don’t know what you do to me. You don’t know how hard it is for me to go out with you in public. Know why I only wear black when we’re out?” he breathed into his ear, “It’s so no one would notice my weeping dick when you as much as touch me.”
Stiles used Derek’s distraction to push him on his back and pinned him to the bed with a hand on his chest. His other hand worked on unbuckling his belt and unzipping his pants and getting his cock out, too impatient to actually undo his pants completely. He reached over to the bed stand for lube, Derek taking the advantage to kiss him while his deft hands undo his instead. “Enough kissing,” Stiles went back to straddling his thighs, popping open the lube and spreading it liberally along Derek’s length. His other hand made itself busy preparing his hole for the intrusion because Derek? So fucking huge man.
He winced at the initial breach but it didn’t take long for his muscles to loosen up, and Stiles was already three knuckles deep. The sound of his fingers working his hole sounded obscene with only gasping breaths being the soundtrack of the whole rendezvous. Derek gripped at the thighs bracketing his, Stiles looking so so good fucking himself with his own fingers, red lips wide open, whimpering at his pleasure. “Fuck Derek, I want you so much. This isn’t enough, it’s never gonna be enough,” deeming that that’s prep enough; Stiles took a hold of his dick and sank to the hilt. “Oh yeah, unf!” bracing himself on Derek’s chest, Stiles used his legs to move up and sink down hard, the stinging slap of skin on skin and oh so wet slide of Derek’s dick thrusting deep into him over and over and over again.
Stiles changed the course and circled his hips; one particular dip sent sparks up his spine and he wasted no time bouncing at that angle, the pleasure wringing out inhuman noises out of his mouth. By the sound Derek was belting out, he liked that too. Feeling close, Stiles upped the tempo, his erratic thrusts bumping the bed against the wall and straining the spring in the mattress. “Derek, fuck I’m close, fuck me, fuck me, fuck oh, Derek!” his cum spurted across his chest, dripping down to Derek’s and that apparently was the thing Derek’s into cause he followed soon after. Legs shaking, Stiles slumped on top of Derek, not having any energy to even rouse and clean up.
It took a moment before Stiles realised that Derek was still inside him, still hard and his hips still slightly thrusting. “Derek, you horny bastard,” Derek didn’t say anything, just wrapped his arm tightly around him and continued on. “Stiles,” Derek sounded soft, tender even, and Stiles basked in the sudden intimacy, dropping a kiss to the skin underneath his cheek, smiling softly as he did so and braced himself for the ride.