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“Fuck me.” Stiles was still half in their bathroom, so the sound of his appreciation echoed off the tiles.
Derek dropped his phone in his pocket and picked up his shirt as he turned to look at his husband. He’d hoped to be fully dressed before Stiles finished his shower. Derek raised an eyebrow at him, and was rewarded by Stiles cocking his hip and loosening his hold on the towel he had around his waist.
On most days, Derek would have leeway to give in to the urge to lick up Stiles’ chest and lap at the water sitting in the dip of his collarbone and rip away the towel and suck Stiles down. Today, he didn’t have the luxury of time.
“Yes, that was an invitation, if you were wondering,” Stiles cooed as stepped onto the carpet and reached out to cup one of Derek’s pecs with his hand. He rubbed a thumb over Derek’s nipple and Derek didn’t mean to groan at it, but. “You’re wearing my favorite pants, Sourwolf. You know what these pants do to me. Remember what happened the last time I caught you in these pants with no shirt on?”
How could Derek forget? Stiles had summarily removed the pants with his teeth, rubbed his face all over Derek’s cock and balls and then proceeded to rim Derek within an inch of his life. Derek had made noises he was sure the rest of the Pack had heard from the other side of the town. Just when he’d thought he’d not be able to take anymore, Stiles had flipped him over and sucked him down and ripped an orgasm from him that he’d thought would never end. Satisfied that Derek was, well, satisfied, Stiles had then fucked his face until neither of them had been able to breathe.
Derek shook the memory from his mind and tried not to notice that they were now both hard.
“I can’t this morning,” he said, slipping his arms into the shirt and straightening the collar, steadfastly ignoring the way Stiles’ lingered on his throat as he did it. “There’ll be fifty disappointed eight-year-olds if you have your way with me.” He’d thought he’d hate being a glorified tour-guide, but kids were one of the things that he liked best about being a Ranger in the Preserve.
“Oh, no. No, no, no.” Stiles reached down and started at the buckle on Derek’s belt.
“Stiles, I can’t.”
“Exactly.” Stiles had on his determined face, and the scent of lust was morphing into something more like, well. It wasn’t as if Derek didn’t like this side of his husband. “You are not, under any circumstances, wearing these pants near a group of school kids, Mr Hale.”
Derek put his hands on Stiles’ to stop him from actually undoing anything else. “I don’t think that children are going to have the same opinion of these pants that you do, babe.”
Stiles looked him right in the eye. “It’s not the eight-year-olds I have an issue with, Derek. It’s the young-mothers and hot, young elementary school teachers I need to protect you from.”