Work Text:
“Why did I want to do this?” Stiles groans, flopping dramatically onto his back on top of the mounds of sleeping bags and blankets Derek managed to shove into their tent.
“You said, and I quote, ‘I’ve never been camping, Derek. We should go camping this summer. And by camping camping I mean have lots and lots of sex in a tent’.”
Stiles gives Derek a wholly unimpressed look and scratches at a bug bite on his elbow. Derek smirks down at him and Stiles kicks out a bare leg that Derek easily catches against his chest.
“I’m itchy,” he whines, wriggling all over and huffing when that does absolutely nothing for the pink bumps littered all up and down his arms and legs. And neck. And feet.
“I thought I told you to bring itch cream?” Stiles continues to look annoyed so Derek amends, “I would have bought some for you.”
“I didn’t think there would be bugs! It’s sunny out, mosquitoes are supposed to like dank, smelly places like swamps and shit. I figured we’d be in the tent doing the nasty by the time the stupid bitey fuckers were out in full force.”
Derek shrugs and rubs his hand up and down Stiles’ shin from his ankle to the leg of his basketball shorts, trying not to look amused. “No,” Stiles moans, kicking his legs a little bit. “You’re gonna make ‘em itchy again.”
He pouts and widens his eyes almost comically, knowing that Derek is helpless to resist The Face. Derek’s eyebrows do a wiggly dance on his forehead that’s somewhere between Annoyed Face No. 2 and You’re Cute Version 3.0 and then he’s leaning down, pressing his mouth to the top of Stiles’ knee lightly.
“I’m itchy,” Stiles whines again, softer now. His eyes don’t leave Derek’s face.
“I know,” Derek replies, pulling Stiles around so his ass is resting in the dip of his crossed legs. “Try not to think about it so much.”
Stiles scratches a bite on his neck and scowls up at Derek. “What am I supposed to think about, then?” Wordlessly, Derek pulls down Stiles’ shorts, working them off his slim, bug bitten legs, and tossing them to the opposite side of the tent. “Oh. Yeah, guess I could think about this instead.”
He pushes at Derek’s forehead when he smirks at him and bends down to rub his entire face over Stiles’ crotch. “Weirdo,” he mutters fondly, finishing with a gasp when Derek places his mouth on him and sucks the head of his cock through his briefs. “God, yeah.” Derek hums and continues licking and sucking at Stiles’ cock until he’s straining at the front of his underwear and squirming, hips lifting up urgently for more.
Bug bites are the last thing on his mind when Derek finally tucks his briefs under his balls and takes him into his mouth, tongue swirling around his length as he swallows him down.
Stiles’ eyes are stuck, riveted on the uninteresting ceiling of their tent as they roll back in his head with every hum and slurp Derek makes around his cock. He isn’t one to brag but if anyone bothered to ask him he could wax poetic about Derek’s blowjobs for a solid couple of hours. They’re perfectly wet and messy with just the right amount of suction to make him absolutely desperate for more. Plus, Derek’s tongue is ridiculous and shouldn’t be able to move like that but it does and it’s awesome.
He’s shaking by the time Derek pulls off to catch his breath and it’s probably a mistake to look down but Stiles does it anyway.
Derek’s mouth is red and used looking, spit and precome making his lips shiny. “Still itchy?” he asks, throat raw sounding, a smirk on his lips.
Stiles glares but it’s entirely without heat since Derek chooses that moment to swallow him down to the base. His entire body arches up and his hands flail up from the blanket under him to grab at Derek’s hair as he shouts his name and comes, limbs trembling.
His orgasm feels like it’s hours long, tendrils of pleasure snaking through him from his toes up to his hair. Every subsequent lap and nuzzle of Derek’s against his spent cock sends another shiver of pleasure through him until it’s too much and he’s mumbling vaguely while patting the top of Derek’s head.
Derek just chuckles and sits up, stretching after being bent over for so long. He wipes at his mouth and smiles up at a sleepy-eyed Stiles. “Better?” He gathers Stiles close, pulling him up and resituating them so Stiles is tucked against his side when he lays back.
“Much better. Don’ feel nothin’ ‘nymore.” Derek kisses the top of his head and he hums, snuggling in closer and patting his way down until he can massage at Derek through his sweatpants. “Gimme a minute or five.” He yawns. “Maybe ten.”
Derek just laughs and kisses Stiles’ head again. “How about after a nap?”
“Mm, knew there was a reason I loved you.”
“Not for my blowjob skills?”
“That too.”
“Sleep, Stiles.”
“’Kay, Derek.”