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Derek promises Stiles one morning that when they both get home from work later that night that he is going to take Stiles apart. He is going to wreck him.
Stiles is all for it, can’t wait for an even more spectacular fuck than usual, and he’s thinking about it all day, can’t think about anything else but Derek inside him, and maybe after Derek is done taking Stiles apart, maybe Stiles can take him apart too, and then he imagines fucking Derek and it’s a constant loop all day, and by the time he gets home he is ready.
Except when Stiles goes to take off his clothes in their bedroom, Derek stops him, asks him to lay on the bed, and let Derek do the rest.
Stiles is confused, but complies.
And all Derek does when he gets on top of Stiles on the bed is kiss him.
Of course it’s amazing, it’s always amazing.
But Stiles was expecting them to get right down to business.
But Derek pulls back, obviously sensing Stiles’ confusion and whispers in his ear, “we’re gonna go slow tonight, is that okay?”
And okay, yeah, surprising, because while they go slow, generally when Derek promises to “take him apart” or “wreck” him, he doesn’t go slow.
But Stiles can do slow. Slow is good. So he nods, and this time when Derek kisses him, he sinks into the kiss, gasps a little when Derek takes his wrists and lightly pins them next to his head on the mattress before moving up to twine their fingers together.
And Stiles is thinking, okay, it’s gonna be a slow bone tonight. (Stiles rarely thinks the term ‘making love’ even though Derek winces when Stiles says, 'oh so we’re gonna slow bone tonight?’ and would rather Stiles say 'make love.’)
Except Derek just keeps kissing him, and Stiles is slowly losing his breath to the almost obscene slip and slide of Derek’s lips against his.
Stiles feels his lips almost going numb, Derek kisses him for so long, and Stiles can barely find it in himself to wrench his mouth away when he can’t breathe anymore and gasp out, “Derek!"
And then Derek rests his head on Stiles’ shoulder, his labored breathing hitting Stiles’ neck and making Stiles shiver, gasping as he feels it run throughout his body, and then Derek doesn’t move, doesn’t do anything for so long Stiles’ eyes start to fall closed, Stiles feeling comfortable and relaxed.
But then Derek moves, his stubble scraping against Stiles’ cheek as he sits up, lets go of Stiles’ hands, straddling Stiles’ legs, and then Derek just…starts running his hands over Stiles’ clothed body.
Stiles is beyond confused at this point, even as it does something to him, makes him jolt and shiver and bite his lip to keep a moan in when Derek runs his hands down his hands, over his fingers, then down his chest, and under his shirt briefly.
He moves his exploration downward, ignoring Stiles’ clothed erection - and when the hell had he gotten fully hard, what the fuck? - and moving all the way down his legs, all the way back up to the insides of his thighs, then under them, to the back of his knees, gently lifting up his legs.
"What are you-?” Stiles is able to gasp out and Derek shushes him, leans back over Stiles and brushes his lips lightly over Stiles’, and when Stiles leans up deepen the kiss, Derek pulls back, and Stiles finds himself chasing those gorgeous lips with a groan before he flops his head back on the bed.
“Just wait,” Derek murmurs softly, hands on the outside of Stiles’ thighs then, rubbing up and down them slowly, methodically.
“I-I ca-” Stiles stutters, feeling a little worked up over this and it’s shocking, how Derek was able to get him fully hard from just making out, and hands running over the outside of his clothes, and just one tease of it underneath his shirt. Was Derek magic or something?
“Shh, it’s okay,” Derek whispers into his ear, making Stiles shudder, and then Derek is kissing his earlobe, taking it into his mouth and sucking lightly, and Stiles is tilting his head to give Derek a better angle, but Derek barely gives his earlobe much attention before he lets it go, and then slowly, so slowly, he drags his lips down Stiles’ neck, his lips as light as a feather. It’s almost as heady a sensation as if Derek was full on kissing and sucking and licking his neck.
Stiles comes to the conclusion as Derek drags his lips down over his clothed chest, and doesn’t take Stiles’ clothes off, that when Derek had said slow, he had meant slow. Like glacially slow.
Stiles felt Derek’s breath on the sliver of skin peaking out from his shirt having lifted slightly, and he finds himself moaning, fairly loud for such a sensation, and he bites his lip, closing his eyes.
He feels Derek rain kisses on the inside of his thigh, and it’s a barely there sensation, but it affects Stiles, and Stiles can’t believe what Derek is doing to him right now.
Derek moved all the way down to Stiles’ ankle on his right leg, and then Derek kissed the inside of his ankle, just once, lightly again, before he moved to take Stiles’ sneaker off, and then the other one, but kept Stiles’ socks on.
Stiles found himself laughing when Derek took Stiles’ arm and ran his nose along the inside of it, the sensation tickling him.
Stiles saw Derek smile, and Stiles’ heart melted a little at the sight. Fuck, he loved his boyfriend.
He should probably say it more often.
In fact, Stiles opened his mouth to say that, but then Derek lightly brushed his hand over Stiles’ erection, and it was enough. Stiles gasped, arching toward the sensation, but that was all he got, and Stiles huffed out an annoyed breath as Derek went back to his hand, kissing his knuckles, turning his hand over to kiss his palm.
“Derek,” Stiles whispered, voice rough.
“Mmm,” Derek hummed, and he kissed up Stiles’ arm, and Stiles found himself reaching up with his free arm to sink his fingers into Derek’s hair, running them through it.
Stiles sighs contentedly as Derek kisses him, setting his skin alight with sensation after sensation.
Derek soon moved on to Stiles’ other arm, and Stiles still kept his hand in Derek’s hair until Derek moved down to his hand, and kissed it as he had his right hand.
Stiles, at this point, was feeling a low buzz thrum throughout his whole body, and he shifted, shifted his hips up.
But Derek help him down by his hips, shook his head and he gave Stiles a light kiss. “Not yet, love.”
“Derek.”
Stiles’ tone was flat, and he scowled up at Derek, who just grinned.
“We’ll get there,” Derek promised.
“What, when I’m fifty?” Stiles said, narrowing his eyes up at his boyfriend.
Derek chuckled, shook his head. “We have all night.”
“I’m going to be hard for so long my dick is gonna fall off,” Stiles whined, and Derek laughed, still held Stiles’ hips down.
“Be patient.”
“I hate you,” Stiles pouted, but stayed still (tried to, anyway).
Derek ignored Stiles’ pout and went back to lightly kissing (seriously, we were talking barely brushing Stiles’ skin kisses here) Stiles all over, starting with his face.
He kissed Stiles’ right cheek, then his left, kissing his chin, his nose - making Stiles scrunch his nose and grin widely - his eyelids - which made Stiles sigh softly - his forehead, then the underside of his jaw, then his lips.
Derek lingered on his lips while keeping the touch of their lips minimal, light as a feather.
Then Derek’s lips moved down to Stiles’ neck, and he let out a deep sigh as Derek’s lips both tickled him and made him shiver. Stiles felt Derek’s hands slide up from his hips, and Stiles felt a jolt of excitement when Derek’s sliding hands pushed up his shirt halfway, past his stomach.
Derek kissed down to Stiles’ collarbone, causing Stiles to arch his head back, and okay, yeah, Stiles’ breathing was becoming a little labored at this point, if you could believe it.
Stiles jolted, hard, when he felt Derek’s lips moved from his collarbone to his stomach.
Derek was trying - no, succeeding in trying to drive Stiles insane.
“Derek, just -” Stiles choked out, thrusting his hips up again and groaning when Derek took ahold of his hips again. “Damn it, Derek!”
Derek chuckled, the bastard, and Stiles was panting as Derek kisses his stomach, and then licks up from where his happy trail meets his pants to his belly button, and then Derek keeps going up and up until he’s pushing the shirt up to Stiles’ armpits and moves up to Stiles’ left nipple, and Stiles moans, reaches up with both hands to wind his fingers through Derek’s hair, tugging slightly as Derek nips and licks at his nipple.
Stiles’ garbles out a “Derek…” that turns into gibberish, Stiles being able to feel how painfully hard he is.
Derek soon moves on to his other nipple, and Stiles arches into Derek’s mouth, undulating his hips in a slow rhythm, and Stiles sighs happily when Derek lets him, and Stiles brushes up against Derek’s erection each time, and Stiles grins at that, that Derek is hard from doing this to Stiles, that pleasuring Stiles turns Derek on.
With practiced ease, Stiles gets his legs out from under Derek and up around his hips, holding as Derek takes ahold of his nipple with his teeth and pulls, making Stiles grunt in pleasure pain.
“Fuck, Derek,” Stiles breathes.
Derek doesn’t respond, but moves on from Stiles’ nipple, kissing down across his stomach to Stiles’ left hip, then up his side.
Derek was slowly, systematically, torturously, taking Stiles apart at the seams, and Stiles couldn’t stop himself from saying Derek’s name over and over again, arching his back into Derek’s mouth, getting worked up the longer Derek teased him, kept him confined in his jeans, hard, aching, most likely leaking.
“Derek, Derek I need-”
“Shh, I know,” Derek whispered, moving up to give Stiles a hard, biting kiss, and Stiles gasps, surprised to be kissed so roughly after being kissing so softly up until then.
Stiles kissed Derek back eagerly, feelings bursting open after who knows how long having it bubble at the surface, that buzz he’d felt throughout his body now a pinprick of sensation, tingling.
Stiles’ lips feel raw, thoroughly kissed, and Stiles feels blissed out as Derek moves back to lift Stiles’ shirt all the way up and off him, tossing it to the side.
When Derek goes back to kissing his neck, Stiles turns to kiss the side of Derek’s head, raising his up until this point dormant hands to Derek’s back, running them up and then down over Derek’s ass.
“Ah ah ah,” Derek reprimands softly, pulling Stiles’ hands up from his ass, and Stiles groans out his frustration, knocking his head softly against Derek’s.
“Derek, come on,” Stiles whines, and Derek pulls back to grin at him.
“You’ll get to.”
“You’re the worst of the worst,” Stiles complains, but then Derek slides down his body, hands moving to the button on his jeans and Stiles squeals internally, lifting his hips into Derek’s hands as they unbutton and then unzip his jeans.
Derek pulls off Stiles’ jeans, but leaves his boxers on, but Stiles is too relieved to be free of the confines of his jeans to care.
All Derek has done is brush his hand, once, against Stiles’ dick, and Stiles is so hard that he needs Derek touch him now, and he says as much to Derek, who finishes taking off his jeans, then his socks, and Stiles whimpers when Derek ignores his plea and starts kissing up his leg again, this time with no cloth between his lips and Stiles’ skin.
Stiles groans, and then reaches to take hold of himself through his boxers, but before he can, Derek grabs his wrist.
“Derek, fuck!” Stiles practically shouts, frustrated, wound tight, annoyed, so hard it is actually painful.
Derek moves up quickly and puts his mouth around the tip of Stiles’ dick through the cloth of his boxers, and Stiles sobs in relief, bucking up into the wet heat of Derek’s mouth, needing that relief, and Derek gives in to his need and opens the frost of his boxers, letting his erection go free so he can swallow him down, and Stiles shouts, thrusting into Derek’s mouth, and Derek happily takes it, bobbing his head up and down.
Stiles takes a hold of Derek’s shoulders and fucks into Derek’s mouth, panting, moaning, feeling heat pool in his stomach as he approaches orgasm, and Stiles warns Derek with a gasp, who only takes him in deeper, and Stiles sobs again, senses heightened, his mind turned into mush as he mindlessly fucks Derek’s mouth, chasing that peak, and Stiles feels it, he’s so close, and he grabs Derek’s hair as he plants his feet and fucks Derek’s mouth good and proper, and Derek hums around Stiles’ dick, and that’s it, Stiles is coming with a shout, back bowed as he shoots down Derek’s throat.
“Fuck,” Stiles whimpers, Derek swallowing every last drop.
Stiles is breathing hard, eyes closed, head thrown back as Derek continues to suck him through his orgasm.
Stiles taps Derek on the top of his head when it becomes too much, and Derek slowly pulls off, lips moving up his dick in a drag that makes Stiles shudder before Derek finally pulls off.
“Fucking hell,” Stiles breathes, out of breath, unable to move, as Derek tucks him back in his boxers.
“I knew you needed that real quick,” Derek murmurs as he kisses up Stiles’ body, up his chest, make Stiles whimper.
“No shit,” Stiles says, heart still hammering in his chest, and Derek chuckles, kisses Stiles’ cheek, his eyelids. “That was amazing.”
“Mhm,” Derek agrees.
“Did you come?” Stiles says, getting enough brain power to remember that his boyfriend needed to get off, too, that he’s been neglected and that can’t happen.
“Not yet,” Derek says, kissing Stiles’ neck.
“Here, let me-” Stiles starts, reaching down to get to Derek’s pants - and Stiles realizes that Derek is still fully dressed as he does so - but Derek grabs his wrist. “What now?” Stiles says. He had been looking forward to giving Derek a hand job, having Derek’s glorious dick in his hand.
“I’m not done with you yet,” Derek answers.
“Wha…” Stiles says, confused. Derek had thoroughly taken Stiles apart, and he was still a little lethargic, limbs loose, like jelly, and as it was, he really only had enough energy to give Derek a hand job, and it would have been with Stiles laying where he was, and the grip wouldn’t have been tight.
“That wasn’t all I was going to do to you tonight,” Derek smirks, a glint in his eye, and Stiles chokes on his spit as Derek starts rubbing his hands against his outer thighs again.
“Fucking fuck fuck,” Stiles whines, and Derek grins and starts kissing Stiles all over again, and Stiles can only moan, lay back and watch as Derek start the slow process all over again.
=*=
It takes awhile for Stiles to get in the game again, for his limbs to be able to move properly, and Derek just slowly kisses, licks, strokes Stiles into the land of the living, only this time he gently pushes Stiles onto his stomach, and Stiles sucks in a breath in anticipation.
At first, Derek just continues kissing him, his shoulder blades, down back, down his legs, to the back of knees, before moving up to pull down Stiles’ boxers just past his butt cheeks.
Oh, yes.
Stiles wiggles his ass in anticipation, grins when he hears Derek suck in a sharp breath.
Derek, of course, doesn’t immediately dive right in, like Stiles wants, and instead kisses Stiles’ left butt cheek, then his right. He moves up to right above Stiles’ ass, kissing his lower back, before dragging his lips up and down his spine, literally make Stiles’ spine tingle and causing him to shudder.
Stiles feels Derek move up his body - and he’s still fully dressed - to kiss his shoulder and then he moves to softly kiss Stiles’ jaw, then near the underside of his chin.
“Derek,” Stiles sighs, feeling that buzz under his skin again. He isn’t hard, and after how hard he had just come, he suspects it will take awhile to be hard again, but that didn’t mean Stiles didn’t feel the pleasure Derek was bestowing upon him, didn’t feel restless with the need to have Derek’s mouth on him, his everything on him, in him, around him.
He just needed Derek.
Derek moved down Stiles’ back again, but skips over his ass entirely - the asshole - and Stiles grunts his displeasure. He’d prefer that mouth on his ass, preferably eating him out right now.
But Derek just kisses down his leg, gives his ankle a soft bite and then moves on to his other leg, kissing up his leg, and stopping right below his right butt cheek with a simple kiss.
But then, gloriously, Derek takes Stiles’ ass cheeks in his hands and spreads them apart, and Stiles wiggles his ass in anticipation.
Finally, Derek presses forward and kisses his hole, and Stiles moans, thrusting up as much as he can towards Derek’s mouth to get more, more, more.
But Derek just kisses right over his hole, over and over again, giving Stiles something, but not enough.
“Derek, come on,” Stiles grunts, pushes off his hips hard, and Derek tuts, grabs Stiles’ hips.
He continues, to Stiles’ frustration, to just lightly kiss his hole, then up his crack, and then down, stopping just above his balls, causing Stiles to gasp.
Then, Derek spreads him wide enough and Stiles feels Derek press his face into his ass, and then his glorious, amazing tongue is pressing flat against his hole.
“FUCK!” Stiles is panting, and his cock twitches, trying valiantly to get back into the game.
And then Derek goes about torturing Stiles again, pushing the tip of his tongue into Stiles hole, then out and then licking around his hole, then back in, over and over again, slowly, that same power, just the tip in, then out and around, and Stiles is having trouble breathing, his heart is hammering, and he’s half hard by the time Derek brings his finger up alongside his tongue, slowly entering Stiles with it as he continues to lick, in and out and around.
Stiles moans where Derek sinks his finger in as far as it can go, pushes up into it, almost fucking Derek on his finger until Derek withdraws and then replaces it with tongue, and this time Derek pushes his tongue in all the way, and Stiles whimpers, moans as he thrusts minutely against the sheets, rubbing his half hard cock against them to get that friction.
Derek starts fucking him with his tongue in earnest, rimming Stiles expertly after years of practice, and in minutes, Stiles is fully hard again, telling Derek he wants more, needs more, to eat him out good and proper. “Fuck yeah,” Stiles moans, unable to control himself.
Stiles feels Derek pull his tongue out and replace it with two fingers this time.
“God, Derek,” Stiles moans, and he fucks himself back on Derek’s fingers, and then he soon adds a third finger.
Stiles gets up on his knees, reaches for his hard cock.
“No,” Derek says, grabs Stiles’ wrist, causing him to whine in frustration. “You’ll come untouched.”
“Fucking hell motherfuck,” Stiles curses, resting on his elbows and pushing back on Derek’s fingers, determined.
Derek fingers him for minutes on end, and Stiles gets so hard he’s leaking, and just when Stiles feels his orgasm starting to build, Derek pulls his fingers out, leaving Stiles feeling empty, clenching his ass and moaning frustratedly.
“Derek, just fucking -”
“Shh, I know what you need,” Derek comes up his body, whispering the words in Stiles’ ear, and Stiles feels Derek’s bare skin this time.
Stiles looks over his shoulder and sees Derek shirtless.
“When did that happen?” Stiles says, voice rough and crackly.
Derek just smirks and reaches up over Stiles’ head toward the nightstand, coming back with their bottle of lube.
Stiles gets excited all over again. “Gonna fuck me?” Stiles says seductively, rubbing his bare ass against Derek’s clothed erection while looking over his shoulder at Derek and smirking.
“Kind of the whole point of tonight, Stiles,” Derek smirks back, setting the lube aside and standing up, finally, finally getting naked himself.
“Oh really?” Stiles snarked, “wouldn’t have known by the fact that for the past hour you haven’t put your damn cock near me, let alone inside me, once, and -” Stiles cuts himself off with a gasp, feeling Derek’s finger sink back inside him, this time much easier than before, which means Derek put lube on it.
“God,” Stiles chokes, thrusting back on Derek’s finger and moaning when he gets Derek to hit his prostate, making him see stars, making him shiver with sensation.
“My name is actually-”
“Don’t fucking even, asshole,” Stiles says, cutting off Derek. “That’s not even orgin-fuck shit motherfuck a duck,” Stiles stammers out as Derek adds a second finger and pushes both all the way in. Derek snorts out a laugh behind him.
Then Derek runs his fingers around and around inside for a bit, hits his prostate a few times, causing Stiles to leak, aching with the need to be fucked, before pulling them out.
Stiles sees him add more lube to his fingers before he comes back to Stiles’ ass and adds one, then two, then three.
He loosens Stiles’ up, gets him wet, slippery, stretched, ready to take his cock.
“Derek,” Stiles pants, pushing against his fingers, and he could come just from Derek fingering him, he could. He had in the past. It was possible. But he needed Derek to fuck him tonight. “Derek, I need you to fuck me now. Please."
When Derek ignores him and continues fucking him with his fingers, Stiles whines and actually moves up the bed to pull Derek’s fingers all the way out. As much as he loved them, he wants Derek’s cock.
"Okay, okay. We’ll do it now, okay? You’ve been so good for me, Stiles. So good,” Derek mumbles.
“Face to face?” Stiles says quietly, feeling already fucked out even as he craves the need to be fucked.
“Yes,” Derek answers simply, and Stiles flips over onto his back, takes a pillow and arches up to put it under his hips, and he grins when he sees Derek watching his hard dick bounce toward his stomach and back up as he does so.
Stiles licks his lips as Derek lubes up his dick, - sometimes they don’t use condoms, like tonight, and even though they only sleep with each other, they still get tested every six months anyway - watches as Derek tosses the lube aside and moves up the bed, taking Stiles legs and hooking his arms under Stiles’ knees, and Stiles grunts as the action spreads his legs wide, spreads his ass cheeks to show his hole.
Derek leans forward over Stiles’ body, still holding Stiles’ legs and causing him to gasp as they’re brought up near his chest for Derek to reach Stiles’ lips and give him a long, hard, biting kiss.
Stiles gets so lost in Derek’s lips that he misses Derek moving into position and bites Derek’s bottom lip in surprise when Derek pushes inside him slowly.
Derek grunts, gives a low moan and kisses Stiles harder, and Stiles brings his hands up to Derek’s hair, threads them through it before grabbing hold of his strands and tugging lightly as Derek pushes in all the way and then stays there, not moving.
“Mmm, Derek, you can move,” Stiles whispers, kissing Derek’s cheek, his jaw, his neck.
“Not quite yet,” Derek murmurs, and Stiles pulls back to glare at him.
“Really, douchebag? You’re going to go achingly slow here too?”
“I’m making love to you and i'm the douchebag?” Derek intones, eyebrow raised.
“Not at the moment, you’re not,” Stiles snarks back.
“I’m literally inside you right now and you’re arguing with me?” Derek huffs.
“I won’t be if you get a move on,” Stiles says, and arches his back as much as he can whith his legs still being held by Derek, causes Derek to go even deeper and making them both gasp. “Damn,” Stiles curses, biting his lips, closing his eyes.
And with that, Derek moves Stiles’ legs up to his shoulders, plants his hands on the mattress and uses the leverage to pull almost all the way out of Stiles and then thrust back in just as slowly as the first time.
Stiles sighs, feeling that low buzz of pleasure again, still hard, but wanting more, which Derek isn’t giving him.
Apparently it really is slow bone night. Like, super slow bone.
Derek gives it to him, nice and slow, for who knows how long. But the only sounds in the room are Stiles and Derek sighing or moaning quietly intermittently, the rustling of the sheets every once in a while as Derek shifts minutely, or moves down to give Stiles a kiss, pulling back with a quiet smack sounding in the room.
The slow slide of Derek’s cock inside does feel amazing though, and Derek even pushes in far enough to just hit his prostate a few times, and that low buzz is starting to become a medium buzz before long, and Stiles chokes out a sigh slash moan at the same time, feeling his toes curl at a particularly good thrust.
“Derek, just a little faster, please,” Stiles pleads, crossing ankles together over Derek’s shoulders and pushing up into his slow thrusts eagerly.
And does move a little faster. A little faster, though, is still slow.
And Stiles knows what Derek is doing. He’s trying to get Stiles to go out of his mind with pleasure, to get so worked up and have to wait so long to get off that when he does he just explodes, and Stiles is getting worked up, slowly but surely.
He needs his release, can feel the need for it, but it is also so far off at this point, it feels like Stiles in limbo, and his skin tingles, his heart races, even with how slow they’re going, and he can feel the need to reach down and jerk himself off, whimpers with the need.
But when he tries to reach down again, Derek grabs his wrist - and then grabs his other wrist just for good measure - and brings his hands up above his head, and holds them there, threading their fingers together.
“God, Derek,” Stiles moans, squeezing Derek’s hands hard as pleasure runs through his body, so much of it that isn’t getting the big pay off that it feels almost a little painful as well, but it’s a good pain. Such a good pain.
Stiles’ legs eventually fall from Derek’s shoulders, and Derek lets go of Stiles’ hands to sit up and letting Stiles’ legs fall to the bed before he grabs on to Stiles’ outer thighs and then thrusts, causing Stiles to moan loudly and rough thrust that hadn’t been there before.
But then Derek moves to his knees, cock still inside Stiles, holding onto his legs, and thrusts slowly in and out, watching his own cock move in and out of Stiles, and Stiles sees Derek’s face flush in pleasure, his chest going a little red too.
“You like that?” Stiles breathes, thrusting onto Derek’s cock eagerly and making Derek moan as his slow thrusts stutter a little in rhythm. “You like watching yourself fuck me? Like watching your cock slide in and out, in and out,” Stiles says, voice low, sounding fucked out, and Derek’s breathing quickens, he bites his lips, and his thrusts pick up a little as a result, and Stiles throws his head back as he feels the thrusts all the way down to his toes. “Come on, Derek, fuck me. Fuck me so good and hard my legs go numb,” Stiles goads, and Derek gasps, thrusting just a little bit harder, and after a good twenty minutes, Stiles thinks it’s about damn time.
Stiles grins, looks up at Derek and gasping as their eyes catch, the air crackling with electricity as Stiles licks his lips, the moment stretching on.
Derek still isn’t going fast, but his thrusts do get hard, more sharp, as he goes and Stiles moans wantonly, legs curling around Derek’s back, his feet resting just on Derek’s ass, and Stiles pushes him forward a little by the ass, bites his lip as that causes Derek go deeper, and Derek looks at Stiles’ cock, licks his lips, and Stiles looks at his own red, hard, leaking, aching cock, looks back up at Derek as if to dare him to take Stiles’ cock and jack him hard and quick, but Derek doesn’t, just continues to thrust slow and hard into Stiles, who is starting to lose any semblance of control.
“Derek, you’re driving me fucking crazy,” Stiles whines, ass clenching on Derek’s cock, causing Derek to moan loudly.
“Good,” Derek pants and speeds up his thrusts to a normal thrusting speed.
“Fuck, fuck yeah, so good,” Stiles moans, and it takes at least another five minutes for Derek to move all the way out of anything resembling slow and right into fast.
Stiles gasps, “yes, yes, right there, fuck, so good, please."
And Derek tightens his hold on Stiles for a second before he lets Stiles legs go and bends back over him, taking Stiles’ hands in his again and holding on as he starts to thrust and Stiles’ eyes flutter shut, and he gasps, moans, clings onto Derek’s with his legs as Derek thrusts fast and hard, and Stiles loves every minute of it, and when Derek lets goes of Stiles’ hands to slip his own under Stiles’ shoulders and take hold, Stiles winds his own around Derek’s shoulders, fingers holding onto his back, fingernails digging in as Derek’s thrusts speed up, becoming harder.
"Yes, yes,” Stiles moans, and Derek kisses him hard, tongue mimicking what his cock is doing to Stiles inside his mouth.
“God, god, god, FUCK,” Stiles whimpers, eyes shooting open and finding Derek’s, and Derek rests his forehead on Stiles’, and the whole affair becomes even more intimate, and Stiles closes his eyes again, and he’s never felt this close, this in tune with someone in his whole life.
And here, in this moment, in the privacy of his own home, in his own thoughts, Stiles can think to himself that this is making love, in the truest sense of the word, because there is nothing else to call it. This isn’t just fucking, this isn’t just about getting off.
Emotions clog Stiles’ throat, and Stiles’ gasp is shaky with it.
Stiles can’t help but hold on tighter to Derek, as if that will get him closer to him, get him wrapped up and around everything that is Derek.
“God, I love you,” Stiles gasps out, and Derek lets out a choked sob, thrusts speeding up as he buries his head in Stiles’ shoulder, and Stiles moves up one hand to Derek’s hair and and holds on.
Derek is thrusting so hard and fast now that it hurts in the best possible way, and Stiles feels his orgasm pulling his gut, chases it with the thrust of his hips, feels Derek go impossibly deeper, and he moans once more, and he ends up scratching down Derek’s back as his orgasm builds, and Derek groans, starts pistoning into Stiles, and Stiles is flushed, he feels hot all over, his heart is beating like a rabbit’s, and his legs actually starting to feel a little numb as he slides them from Derek’s waist onto the bed.
He bends his knees, spreads his legs as he takes all Derek has to offer, feeling so much pleasure he feels like he’s drowning in it.
“Derek,” Stiles gasps. “I’m gonna, I’m gonna-”
“Yeah, yeah,” Derek nods, pulls away from Stiles’ shoulder to kiss Stiles, and Stiles digs his fingernails into Derek’s back as his orgasm hits, and Stiles practically does explode, spine bowing off the mattress, stars going off behind his eyelids, and he sobs out his release, coming so hard that he clenches down onto Derek, who chokes out a loud moan into Stiles’ ear as he freezes and comes as well, and comes hard.
Stiles’ finishes coming soon after that and slumps down into the mattress, spent, tingling all over, panting, barely able to breathe, arms slowly falling from Derek’s back and onto the mattress, and Stiles then just kinda…starfishes out onto the bed, completely and utterly done for.
Derek finishes coming soon after, and then he just collapses on top of Stiles, spent. Stiles grunts but otherwise doesn’t move, doesn’t make a sound other than to panting.
Fuck.
They’re both panting, and Stiles distantly can feel Derek’s racing heart against his chest.
It’s another ten, maybe fifteen minutes before Stiles coming back to the living, and he finds that Derek had slipped out of him in that time, even though he was still on top of Stiles, arms around Stiles, left leg tangled with Stiles’ right leg.
Stiles blinks his eyes open, heart rate finally down to normal, although his legs still felt a little numb.
“That was fuckin’ amazing,” Stiles rasps out, clearing his throat when it comes out all crackly.
Derek sighs happily, nods his head from it’s resting spot on Stiles’ shoulder. “It was.”
“If only we had time for that every night,” Stiles murmurs, and Derek snorts.
“You wouldn’t be able to stand going that slow every time and you know it,” Derek says, and Stiles concedes the point.
“But what if I repaid you the favor one night,” Stiles says, and Derek shudders, nods eagerly against Stiles’ throat.
“Yeah-yes, that-I would like that,” Derek clears his throat, and Stiles smiles, moves one arm to wrap around Derek’s waist, thumb rubbing up and down on Derek’s lower back.
“Me too,” Stiles murmurs, eyes falling half closed.
“I love you, too, by the way,” Derek says quietly a few seconds later, and Stiles smiles, turns his head slightly to kiss the side of Derek’s head and hums.
“I know.”
“Oh, fuck off,” Derek groans, laughs as he rolls off of Stiles onto the bed.
Stiles chuckles, doesn’t move even after Derek had moved off him - Stiles loved having Derek on top of him, though, holding him, surrounding him. It felt safe, it felt good, it felt right - and they lay side by side in silence for awhile, coming down from their orgasmic high.
Eventually, Derek finds enough strength to sit up and move off the bed to go to the bathroom and get a washcloth to clean them off with, and Stiles just lays there as Derek cleans him off, as Derek wipes Stiles’ cock clean, his ass, although Derek’s come would probably be slowly leaking out of him all night, and Stiles never really minded that sensation a whole lot.
Derek went to get rid of the washcloth, came back and pulled the sheets up and over Stiles, and then slid in as well, turning off the dim light, shrouding the room in darkness except for the moonlight shining in through the windows.
Stiles sighed contently when Derek turns him on his side and into his chest, spooning him, wrapping himself around Stiles, who snuggles back into him happily, holding onto Derek’s arm when it wraps around his waist.
“Night,” Stiles whispers, and Derek says it back, giving Stiles’ neck a light kiss before settling in behind Stiles.
Loose, relaxed, and feeling amazing after the thorough lovemaking Derek had bestowed upon Stiles that night, Stiles easily fell into sleep, the love of his life wrapped around him and keeping Stiles warm, safe.
Content.