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"Mmm, hey, Derek," Stiles smirks into his phone, slightly out of breath, voice shaking.
"I swear to god, Stiles-"
"What? You gonna rip my throat out with your teeth? Kinky." He gasps, positive Derek can hear the wet slip-slide of Stiles stroking himself.
"Stiles, are you-"
"Jerking off? Yes, yes I am."
"And you didn't stop when you picked up the phone?"
"I did until I saw it was you, Derek."
"Stiles," he sighs.
"If you're surprised by this than you literally don't know me at all. Anyway, you interrupted me. It was just getting good. Was thinking about you giving me stubble burn all over my fat thighs. Did you know that my belly had stubble burn after you left? I could not stop touching it, oh my god, it was so sensitive. Mmm, it was so hot." There's a long enough pause that Stiles asks, "Derek?"
"I really don't have the time for this right now, Stiles. I need you to look up some info about sirens."
"Oh shit, did someone get killed by a siren?"
"No, not yet, but-"
"Than it's not urgent, is it? I'll take like ten minutes, tops, I swear."
"Stiles, I can't right now ok? The betas are right in the next room, they can probably hear you, and they can definitely hear me."
"So go upstairs and keep quiet."
Derek sighs, defeated, and Stiles can hear him trudge upstairs. He pumps his fist in victory. "I'm actually surprised this is the first time you’ve tried this."
"You been looking forward to it, snookums?"
"More like dreading."
"Oh wow, you wound me. Here I thought you wanted all up on my sexy bod."
"You’re terrible at this."
Stiles laughs, "Hey I don't see you putting in the effort, puddin', show some appreciation."
"Appreciation for you interrupting important research just so you can have bad phone sex with me? Sorry, I'm a terrible boyfriend.”
Just listening to his voice, even though it was currently mocking him, was turning Stiles all the way on. “Unh, Derek, keep talking.”
“Nope, I think we’re done here.”
“Oh my god, sourwolf, calm down. Okay, I’ll start." He clears his throat for dramatic effect, makes his voice low and husky, "What are you wearing?”
“Why do I put up with you.”
Stiles cackles. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, don’t hang up, okay?” Derek heaves an epic, resigned sigh. "Well if you're interested, I'm wearing that orange and blue polo, the one you-"
"That shirt is hideous I hope you know."
"Dude it's the colors of the Mets, it's awesome! Also shut the fuck up Derek, I'm being sexy here."
Derek snorts. "Okay, I’m sorry, please continue." Stiles does; he starts stroking himself again, teasingly, in a loose fist.
"It’s, it's really tight now, even tighter than on you. It won't even stay down over my belly anymore. Um... especially since I ate so much today."
Derek sighs, but in pleasure, not exasperation this time, Stiles can totally tell. He smirks. "What did you eat today?" Oh yeah, it's on now.
"God, everything. Ah, I woke up late, got lunch at JR's, nothing crazy, just-mmm a meatball hero and some fries and some root beer. But then Scott called me, invited me to this diner down the street and I thought, why not? No one has to know."
Derek groans, almost inaudibly on the other end of the line, and Stiles feels so hot, spurred on by Derek's interest. He rubs his bloated belly in time with tight, languid strokes to his cock. "Oh my god, Derek," Stiles moans, only slightly exaggerated, "They had these huge, greasy, amazing burgers, fries, and then I had a chocolate milkshake, and, ah, a piece of chocolate pie."
"Stiles," Derek sighs, breath catching.
"But I thought, uhh-ah, why stop there?"
"Oh, fuck."
"I took out a pint of Ben & Jerry's when I got back to my room and, ah-f-fuck, Derek, I thought about you feeding it to me and it got me so turned on, a-and then you called me and Jesus, Derek, I couldn't stop."
"Do. Do you still have some left?"
"Yes," Stiles breathes.
"You should finish it."
"Oh g-god, Derek. I want. I want you to feed it to me," he swallows a mouthful of melting ice cream. "I want you to lick it out of my mouth, off my belly. Better yet, I wanna lick it off of you."
"Stiles," Derek moans, his breath shuddering.
"Mmm careful, Der, you don't want the betas to hear us."
"I don't care, Stiles, please."
"Are you touching yourself? Thinking about me licking those fucking ridiculous abs of yours?"
"Unh, yes."
Stiles groans, strokes speeding up. "I miss your hands on me. Oh god, Derek, I've eaten so much this week; I really miss the way you touch me, after. I try to do it myself, but it's not the same."
"I want to, god, Stiles. A-are you full right now?"
"Yes, aah, it feels so good."
"Tell me."
"It’s so heavy, and huge and, oh god, I'm so stuffed Derek, I want you to lick it, all over, like last time. It was so, so hot, I can't stop thinking about it." Derek makes a soft, helpless noise. Stiles's breath shakes.
"I want. Uh-h Stiles. Let me hear you. Please."
Stiles doesn't have to ask what he means. He puts Derek on speaker and uses his newly free hand to grip the cardboard pint, and chugs it, quick and merciless, his overstuffed gut protesting with sharp pressure. He lets out a burp and Derek whimpers, breath coming in sharp bursts through the speaker of Stiles's phone.
Stiles moans, massaging his throbbing belly, writhing desperately on his bed, his breathing ragged. "Derek, fuck."
"Jesus, Stiles, the sounds you make… I want. S-Stiles."
"What do you want to do to me, Derek? Tell me."
"Anything, god, Stiles, anything you want."
"Do you want to fuck me? I've seen you staring at my ass, you know. Is that what you want?"
"Yes."
"I want to ride you, make you feel how big I am, ah."
"Shit."
"I want you to use your wolf strength to hold me up, against a wall and f-fuck me. Ah, I want to open you up with my tongue, and fingers and-and, oh Jesus fuck Derek!" Stiles comes, hard, pulsing with pleasure, vision whiting out.
Derek growls, breathing rapidly, but Stiles can tell he hadn't come yet.
"I'm going to fuck you, Derek," Stiles says breathlessly, body shuddering with tremors. "Gonna bend you in half and make you take my body weight, do you want that?"
"Stiles!" and Derek stutters on a groan, and comes. They both breathe raggedly into each other's ears for a minute
"Oh my god, that was awesome." Stiles could practically hear him rolling his eyes. "Don’t even front." His voice is rough, he's still trying to catch his breath, but Derek's is even now. "Man, I'm getting out of shape." Derek groans, making Stiles laugh. "Oh you like that, Derek? Wait till you see how out of breath I'll be when you really fuck me."
"Jesus, Stiles."
"And you said I was bad at this, shows what you know. I have many, many talents you haven't even experienced yet. But you will."
Derek sucks in a breath. "Stiles, I can't do this all day."
"Fiiiiine. Another time than, party pooper. So sirens, huh?"
"Yeah, uh. If you find anything let me know, okay?"
"Will do. Thanks for indulging me, sweetums."
"It wasn't exactly a hardship, big guy."
"Hardship," Stiles snorts.
"Seriously? Am I dating a ten year old?"
"Pretty much, yeah.”