Chapter Text
Stiles may have kissed him first, but the second Derek got over the shock, he was the one who deepened it. How could he not? Derek had been holding back for months, and in a single kiss, Stiles had shattered the last of his self-control. Plus, Stiles was kissing him like his life depended on it, his body pressing against the taller boy and hands grabbing greedily at his shoulders. Derek refused to break their kiss as he lifted Stiles with ease, the smaller boy quickly responding by wrapping his legs around Derek's waist. Derek moved to press Stiles into the wall and both of them groaned at the feeling. With just the hint of pressure their desperation became something palpable.
“Derek,” Stiles breathed, tossing his head back as Derek began an assault down his neck.
They were both panting now, groaning into each other as Derek ground his hips into the smaller boy again and again. Stiles' whines grew louder and louder until finally Derek cut him off with a kiss.
“Shhh,” Derek chided. “We have to be quiet.”
“Right,” Stiles said. “Right, sorry.”
Derek pulled back for a second. “Are you sure about this? You said–”
“I’m sure,” Stiles said. “I’m sure, I’m so sure.”
Derek laughed at that, reconnecting his and Stiles’ lips as he moved to carry him over to the bed. It all was so reminiscent of their night together months ago, but this time there was no way he was letting Stiles go. At the thought, he dug his fingers hard into Stiles’ hip, lighting up when the brunette offered a sharp, pleased gasp. He set Stiles down gently in contrast, pushing him back against the pillows as he settled on top of him.
There was a small part of Derek’s brain that wanted to go slow, to take Stiles apart carefully and draw this moment out forever. But months of buildup had rendered his discipline nonexistent. He ground his hips down again, stomach searing at the feeling of Stiles hard beneath him.
“What do you want?” Derek asked, his voice embarrassingly ragged for how little they’d done.
“Touch me,” Stiles breathed. He helped Stiles pull off his clothes, laughing when his pants got stuck around his ankles and the brunette almost kicked them both off the bed trying to shuffle out. Stiles just huffed with a smile, shaking his head as he turned to pull the clothes off of Derek, too, until both boys were only in their boxers. Without waiting a moment, Stiles reached out to palm Derek through his underwear.
“S-Stiles!” Derek gasped, everything tightening as Stiles rubbed against him. He couldn't stop his hips as they pushed into the boy's hand for even more pressure. He choked out a shaky, “I’m supposed to be touching you.”
“Shh,” the brunette chided, slipping his hand past the boxers to grab Derek skin to skin. Derek groaned into Stiles' shoulder, rutting up into his hand as he chased the delicate pleasure.
God, when was the last time a simple handjob had felt this good?
Stiles sped up his hand, simultaneously using the other to explore Derek’s stomach, his chest, his neck. He left soft kisses on his cheek and jaw, smiling against his skin with every noise he punched out of Derek.
“You sound pretty, Derek,” Stiles said, kissing the spot below his ear and tightening his hand with every upstroke. Derek nearly whined at the praise.
“You gotta stop or this is going to be over fast,” Derek bit out. He might normally have been embarrassed by how close he was already, but at this point he felt too good to care.
“You’re gonna come already?” Stiles teased, not stopping his hand at all. “Gonna come in your pants just from my hand?”
“Stiles,” it was almost a sob as Derek felt the pressure in his stomach tighten. “Yes, please, yes, yes.”
But right as Derek reached the edge, Stiles stilled his hand, gripping the base of his cock as Derek gasped at the feeling of his receding orgasm. He growled out something akin to a "no", but it was largely drowned out by Stiles' laughter.
“You’re–” Derek struggled catch his breath. “You’re evil.”
Stiles just laughed harder. And the sound was so light and sweet that Derek couldn't even be mad at him for it.
“I didn’t want to be done yet,” Stiles said simply and Derek rolled his eyes as he pulled himself up to kiss the boy again.
“Brat,” Derek said against soft lips.
“Whatever. You like it,” Stiles murmured absentmindedly, distracted by the way Derek was now slowly dragging down Stiles' boxers with a hooked finger. He kissed the brunette again and again as he rid him of his last bit of clothing, reveling in the way that Stiles was already squirming against him for the littlest bit of friction. Derek began his descent down his body, kissing a trail as he went and stopping to sucking soft marks into all of the most sensitive spots. At Stiles' hips, he paused to pay extra attention, letting his kisses bloom burgundy across the pale skin.
Stiles was fully hard below him and it was getting harder and harder to ignore, especially with the sounds falling from kiss-swollen lips above him. But Derek avoided touching where he knew Stiles wanted him too, instead continuing his assault of kisses all around. He sucked mark after mark into his hips, his lower stomach, his thighs. All the while Stiles grew into a whiny mess above him, urging him to “get on with it” but gasping with each new bite.
Derek eventually sat back to admire his work: Stiles flushed with marks, all from him.
“You look so good like this,” Derek said, his voice dipping into something almost like reverence.
“What? Hard as hell without any follow through?” Stiles muttered. His frustration would have seemed more severe had he not been reaching out for Derek at the same time.
“No, covered in my marks." Derek said. "You’ll have these for days.”
Stiles sucked in a soft breath as Derek let his hand wander among the bruises, pressing down on a few of the darker ones just to see Stiles squirm.
“No one will be able to see them, but I’ll know," he continued. "You’ll walk into class on Tuesday and I’ll know under your clothes you’re covered in me.”
And then without any warning Derek dipped his mouth down to lick a long stripe up Stiles’ length.
“Oh, fuck.” Stiles swore, throwing his head back at the unexpected pleasure.
Derek quickly swallowed him down, bobbing his head at a pace that soon had Stiles gasping for breath. The black haired man settled between his legs, looking up as he continued his ministrations in order to watch absolute pleasure spread across Stiles' face. Derek loved doing this, loved watching his partners fall apart above him, feeling their control slip as they tried and failed to keep from thrusting into his tight throat. The brunette threaded his hands in Derek’s hair, pulling hard enough to elicit a low groan that vibrated through the both of them.
“Shit, Derek.” Stiles moaned. “Oh, god, you’re so good. So good. This is– oh-- you feel perfect.”
Derek went even more lightheaded at the praise, speeding up his bobs with a growing fervor and jerking his hand on the rest of him. The room grew loud with the messy sounds of them, Derek not letting up at all as Stiles babbled more and more. Soon Stiles' legs were shaking and he was barely able to string a sentence together.
“I’m gonna–” Stiles pulled Derek’s hair again, arching his hips up into the black haired man’s mouth. “Fuck, Derek, I’m gonna–” he whined higher.
Derek went a second or two more, then pulled off completely, watching Stiles closely with a Cheshire Cat smile.
“No!” Stiles practically shouted. “No, no, no, no, you absolute–”
Derek silenced him with a kiss, laughing into Stiles' frown. The older boy looked nearly in tears as his orgasm ebbed away.
“It’s only fair, Sti,” Derek said once he pulled back again, laughing at the absolute glare he was being shot. “Don’t pout,” Derek added, thumbing at Stiles' protruding lip. The smaller boy opened his mouth to bite at Derek’s finger, his eyes still narrowed in anger.
Derek laughed, “You’re such a brat.”
“You’re mean,” Stiles shot back.
“Hypocrite.” Derek accused lightly.
“Copy cat.”
“Whiny.”
“Arrogant.”
A small smile had broken out on Stiles' face and Derek was laughing hard now. “Spoiled,” he added, to which Stiles shot back,
“Bad listener.”
“Bad listener?” Derek laughed. “What?"
“You’re supposed to listen to me and do what I say,” Stiles said matter-of-factly.
“Says who?” Derek had settled back between Stiles' legs kissing his jaw softly between words.
“Says me. I’m the Captain.” Stiles threaded his fingers through Derek’s hair.
A thrill ran through Derek. Images flashed of him on his knees, entirely at Stiles' mercy and obedient to his every demand. His dick twitched at the thought. Something to explore next time.
“Sorry I forgot my place, Captain,” He teased, leaving sharp kisses along Stiles' collarbone and weaseling a choked noise out of the boy beneath him. “What are my orders?” He punctuated his question with a sharp grind of his hips and thrilled when Stiles moaned.
“What was that, Captain?” Derek said, smiling against his neck. "I didn't quite get that."
“Oh, shut up,” Stiles said. Using his grip in Derek's hair he wrenched the black haired man back up to his face and locked him in a searing kiss. At the end of the same movement, Stiles pulled Derek over to his side, moving quickly so he could flip on top of him and switch their positions. Derek looked up at him in surprise for a second at their quickly reversed spots, then let out a shocked laugh.
“Is this like a metaphorical thing? You trying to show you’re on top again?” Derek asked as Stiles helped the black haired man finally shimmy out of his underwear so he could settle back on his lap.
“Please, if I topped you right now, you wouldn’t last two minutes.”
“Stiles, I wouldn’t last thirty seconds. But thanks for seeing me with some semblance of respect.”
Both boys burst into soft laughter again. It was enough to break the lustful haze for a moment, and something like awe passed through Derek as he realized the position he was currently in. Stiles was on top of him. He was naked on top of him. And he had seen him in his entirety, had caused his body to contort in pleasure. And still they were laughing and joking together, gazing stupidly at each other, smiling like lovers do.
Like lovers do.
In a new frenzy, Derek pulled Stiles close to kiss him and wrapped his hand around Stiles' length. The smaller boy immediately bucked into his hand.
“Feel good?” Derek said, lazily stroking. Stiles only nodded, thrusting his hips again and again. Derek watched Stiles for awhile as he chased his own pleasure, enamored by the way he could read the pleasure across his face. His eyes were blown out black by now, his chest tinged with pink that had snuck down from his cheeks.
“Wanna come, baby?” Derek finally said and Stiles whined as he nodded fervently. Derek picked up the speed, using the precum leaking to slick his hand.
“Together,” Stiles bit out, “Please.”
So Derek took himself and Stiles in his hand, tightening them together and giving an experimental thrust.
Both boys groaned.
“Shit,” Stiles breathed, as Derek jerked them both off together, the slickness between them a lewd noise that filled the bedroom.
With only a few more strokes, Stiles' hips were thrusting erratically, chasing his release. Derek tightened his hand. “Come on me,” Derek gasped out. “I wanna feel you.”
That was enough for Stiles, who bit down on Derek’s shoulder in ecstasy as he released white ropes across Derek’s hand and chest. He whined into Derek’s neck as Derek jerked him through it, then nearly collapsed onto Derek, completely spent. Derek was nearing his own release and he was quickly loosing his composure as Stiles' come added to the mess between his hands. He tried to finish himself off, but Stiles snaked his arm around to knock Derek’s hand away and take Derek in his own. He began jerking furiously.
“C’mon Derek,” Stiles said in Derek’s ear as he moved. “Be good and come for me.”
Derek didn’t stand a chance. With an almost pornographic whine he spilled out, his come pulsing and mixing with the mess Stiles had already left. He could barely even feel Stiles' lips on his neck, his jaw, his cheek, as his vision whited out.
“Good job, Derek, so good.” Stiles whispered, causing aftershocks to spurt out as he bit his lip to keep himself from shouting out. Stiles had collapsed again next to him and Derek understood; he felt as though his whole body had turned to jello. He had to consciously think about catching his breath.
“Oh my god,” he finally said once he felt grounded again.
Stiles laughed.
The sound reminded Derek of his presence, and he turned to look at the boy who was draped across his arm.
“Stiles,” Derek said, and when the brunette turned to him with a smile from ear to ear, he kissed him so hard he thought it might bruise.
They kissed for awhile, reveling in their afterglow and laughing sweetly about simple things. But eventually Stiles pulled away.
“You need to go wash up, you’re a mess.” Stiles said. “You’re gonna get that everywhere.”
“And whose fault is that?” Derek said, just grabbing a tissue and haphazardly wiping his stomach and chest up.
“I believe you were the one saying, "Oh Stiles, oh Stiles. Please come all over me. Pretty please with cherries on top,” Stiles turned his voice to something high pitched and feminine, his accent coming out even more pronounced than normal.
“You’re so annoying,” Derek said, but he was so happy he thought that even that sort of came out like a compliment. He pulled Stiles back onto him as the other protested.
“You’re going to get us both gross,” Stiles whined.
“Don’t care. Just lay with me.”
So they laid together nearly on top of one another. They were silent for awhile, Derek drawing lazy patterns on Stiles' back. Derek had never felt so content.
“That was–” Derek tried and failed again to articulate how he was feeling. Stiles, ever knowing, just nodded.
“Yeah,” he said. “Yeah, it was.”
“Thank you,” Derek said instead, to which Stiles scoffed.
“Don’t thank me for giving you a handjob, you weirdo.”
“No, thank you for coming. For being here with me.” Derek wished he could find the words to make Stiles understand how much this all meant to him.
“I should be thanking you for that.” Stiles said, weaving his arm around so he could run his hand through the base of Derek’s hair how he now knew the boy liked.
“Best Christmas ever,” Derek said with so much earnestness that it looked for a moment like Stiles couldn’t decide if he was going to laugh or cry. He opted for kissing him until he had enough composure to offer up a teasing,
“You’re desecrating the name of Christmas. Where’s your wholesomeness?”
Derek laughed. “Well, maybe we can try for wholesome next Christmas.”
Stiles just kissed him again, their bodies tangling further together as they settled into each other.