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“If we get caught, you’re sleeping on the sofa for a week.”
“As if you could last a week without me in bed.” Stiles scoffs before leaning in to kiss Derek so thoroughly that he stops thinking. It takes really good kisses to turn Derek’s mind off so he only focuses on pleasure and getting off, but Stiles is willing to make the sacrifice of kissing him until he gets it right. He’s just that devoted to the cause.
“Stop trying to distract me,” Derek says, pushing at Stiles’ chest as his eyebrows go into judgmental mode. It’s adorable, really, that Derek honestly still thinks Stiles can be shamed even after nearly a decade together.
“Who? Me?” Stiles goes for the fluttering eyelashes even as he shifts just a little to the right, bringing his thigh directly into contact with Derek’s dick. The eyebrows might be judging, but Derek’s body is definitely responding properly.
“There’s a room full of werewolves not twenty feet away from us.” Derek’s trying to whisper, but he keeps breaking off in the middle of words when Stiles rolls his hips to grind against his leg. “You aren’t quiet, Stiles.”
“I can be quiet,” he mutters, just a little defensive because seriously. They get caught having sex one time by a security guard, and it’s forever held up as a reason why they shouldn’t indulge in public sex that they are both totally into. It’s funny how Derek can’t seem to ever remember to hang up his wet towels, but he can constantly recite in detail something that happened the first year they got together. And it’s pointless to constantly bring it up anyway because they both get off on this, and Derek always wants it even he likes protesting at first.
“Don’t be. I really like your noises.” Derek’s ears are turning red, a flush appearing high on his cheeks above his beard. His glasses are falling down his nose as he looks down the hallway towards the closed doors of the werewolf conference thing they’re attending on behalf of the Hale-McCall Pack of Beacon Hills. “This is even riskier than usual, Stiles. I’m not sure we should even try. God, they can probably hear us even with the doors shut.”
“Nope.” Stiles pops the ‘p’ before flashing a sly smile. “They can’t hear anything. I cast a spell that totally sound proofed the entire ballroom. With permission even! Alpha Collins felt it would help protect the secrecy of the convention and was most eager to let me help shield the humans from supernatural wolfy business.”
“Alpha Collins needs to keep his wandering eyes and eagerness to himself,” Derek grumbles, eyes narrowing slightly. “Don’t think I didn’t notice you playing on his obvious interest in you to get him to agree to that alliance, either. I know it’s going to be beneficial to our pack, but it doesn’t mean I have to like him being so fascinated by your spark amongst other things.”
“Oh. My. God.” Stiles stops grinding and gapes at Derek before he starts laughing. He has to actually bite his lip and bury his face against Derek’s neck to help muffle the laughter until he gets himself under control. When he does, he wipes at the tears in his eyes and raises his head to grin at Derek, who doesn’t look amused at all. “Derek, babe, Seth is like almost sixty, has a very loving relationship with his adorable wife, and doesn’t have any interest in me other than my charming personality and refusal to cower in the face of one of the most powerful alphas in the United States.”
“Hmph.” Derek is totally pouting now, his lower lip thrust out, and he narrows his eyes when Stiles’ lips twitch. “I still don’t like how he looks at you.”
“You’re ridiculous,” Stiles says affectionately. He leans in to nibble at Derek’s lip, focusing back on the whole ‘let’s get off where we might get caught because, hey, I’ve wanted you all damn day and the hotel room is too far away’ plan. Derek seems agreeable to the plan judging by the way he’s responding to Stiles’ efforts. Despite the fact that they’ve been together since he was twenty-one and they’re approaching their tenth anniversary later this year, he still gets a little thrill knowing Derek wants him bad enough to let Stiles get away with shit like this occasionally.
“Shut up and kiss me.” Derek arches a brow in challenge, and it takes Stiles a moment to get with it because he’s been prepared for a much longer seduction attempt. Derek usually plays hard to get before giving in, liking to pretend that he’s not as kinky and into public sex as much as Stiles is, but Stiles totally knows better. He’d never push it if Derek wasn’t into it, after all.
Consent and mutual satisfaction are like the core of their sexual relationship, and have been since before they even had sex because Stiles insisted on taking things slow and talking about stuff when they first started dating. He’d been that serious about Derek from the start. Hell, he’d waited to even try going for it until he’d finished college, had his own apartment, and had a job established because he’d wanted Derek to realize he was an adult and not the same horny teenager who used to lust after him beneath the sarcastic snark.
“Stiles, I’m not going to wait forever,” Derek murmurs, looking around as if they’ve suddenly got an audience without realizing it before focusing back on Stiles.
“Lie,” Stiles whispers, watching Derek suddenly smile, the big dopey smile that turns his face into something so beautiful it’s impossible to describe, eyes crinkling as he moves his hand over Stiles’ cheek. Stiles feels his breath catch in a sappy way he used to find embarrassing but now totally embraces and accepts because there’s nothing wrong with being sappy about loving Derek.
“Yeah,” Derek agrees softly, stroking his thumb along Stiles’ jaw. “I’d wait for you no matter how long it takes, forever or even longer.”
“This is supposed to be hot desperate sex, you realize?” Stiles licks his lips before turning his head to kiss Derek’s palm. “Not all heart-eyes flowery sentimental loving sex.”
“Why, no, I hadn’t realized.” Derek’s eyes widen in a ridiculous exaggeration of shock. “Maybe you should clue me in on your nefarious schemes to get into my pants before you use sound proofing on ballrooms full of werewolves and lure me into shadowy corners of the hotel hallway. Then I’d get with the hot and desperate thing, though I’d like to point out that we always have loving sex even if it’s adventurous sometimes.”
“But telling you ahead of time would ruin the surprise, Derek,” he points out, moving his leg against Derek’s dick. He grins when he feels a bulge pressing against him. Seems Derek’s still into it even if it’s not desperate and hot. No, that’s wrong because any kind of sex, from the most vanilla to the kinkiest, is hot when it involves Derek. It’s like a rule of the universe or something.
“Do I really have to repeat my earlier request, Stiles?” Derek moves his hand down Stiles’ back, squeezing his ass and pulling him even closer. “Or are you going to finally stop teasing me and give me what I want?”
“I never shut up unless your pretty dick is in my mouth or I’m eating your ass.” Stiles leers and waggles his eyebrows as he starts rolling his hips, liking the friction he’s got in this position. “But I can definitely kiss you.”
“You shut up when you kiss me, too, smartass,” Derek says, moving his hips and grinding against Stiles’ thigh. Instead of replying, Stiles just kisses him. They really have taken longer than he anticipated, since he planned to woo Derek with some awesome kisses and grinding until they both came then head up to their room for more. Instead, they got all distracted, like they often do, and Stiles really isn’t interested in a repeat of the Security Guard incident of yore even if they both like the thrill of potentially getting caught.
The thing is, potential isn’t the same as it actually happening.
Kissing Derek is one of the best things in the world. It ranks up in the top five favorite things Stiles enjoys doing, without a doubt. Tonight is no exception. Derek’s licking into his mouth as they grind against each other, and Stiles eagerly returns the kiss, trying to concentrate on the whole ‘making Derek feel instead of think’ plan again. This time, it seems to be working because Derek’s not as worried about them being heard by the convention attendees. Maybe Stiles should have mentioned the magic first, but he’d intended to play up the ‘maybe they’re listening’ thing before he realized Derek’s not into that idea, even in fantasy.
As they kiss, Stiles moves his hands down Derek’s sides, leaving one on his hip and tugging up his shirt with the other. When he’s touching bare skin, he hears Derek make a low noise, breaking the kiss and inhaling sharply when Stiles rubs his thumb over a hard nipple. Derek’s not as sensitive there as Stiles is, but they’ve had enough years of practice that Stiles knows just how to touch him to get the best reactions. “You like that, don’t you?” he whispers, rubbing his thumb while he rubs his cheek against Derek’s scruffy cheek. “God, look at the way you’re humping my leg, Der. So turned on, so hard I bet your underwear’s soaked already, so desperate for release.”
Derek looks at him, not saying anything because he’s finally reached that point where he’s so aroused that he sort of becomes non-verbal for a bit. His face is flushed, his pupils dilated, his glasses askew, and his hair mussed, and, damn, it’s such a beautiful visual that Stiles begins grinding a little harder, too. Derek suddenly grabs his hips and looks up, eyes flashing blue as he stares down the corridor, breathing hard and listening intently. Stiles looks to the side, pressing even closer to Derek, practically climbing up his body as a guy walks by with a food cart at the end of the hall, taking room service back to the kitchen probably.
Once Derek’s sure the guy’s not coming back to catch them, they start moving again. More desperately this time, the guy’s appearance reminding them where they are right now, reminding them they could get caught. No more time for teasing and going slow now. Derek kisses him passionately, licking and sucking and biting until Stiles’ lips are swollen and glistening. They’re rutting together like horny teenagers instead of guys in their thirties who are basically the old-married couple of their pack, complete with the whole marriage ceremony over six years ago.
This is so awesome.
Stiles takes control of the kiss, pushing Derek against the wall as he licks into his mouth. When he feels Derek start to buck forward a little faster, he pulls back from the kiss. “That’s it, Der. Want you to come for me,” he urges, snapping his hips forward and grinding against Derek’s muscular thigh. He’s close, too, but he wants Derek to come first. “So fucking gorgeous like this. Let me watch you come.”
Derek whines low in his throat, staring into Stiles’ eyes as he rides Stiles’ leg, rubbing harder and faster until his eyes roll back and his lips part, a low groan as he tenses then shudders as his orgasm hits. He keeps moving as he comes, holding on tight to Stiles, blinking at him as he slowly comes down. It doesn’t take Stiles much longer, not after watching that, and he’s soon grunting as he comes in his pants. His O face isn’t beautiful like Derek’s, he knows since they’ve fucked in front of mirrors before. It’s not at all attractive, really, but Derek still looks at him like Stiles is the most gorgeous thing he’s ever seen. Maybe to Derek, it isn’t as bad as Stiles thinks it is.
“We reek of come and sweat,” Derek says after they kiss and calm down. “My pants feel wet and gross, too.”
“Wow. Nice to see the romance dies as soon as you come. Typical man,” Stiles teases, huffing a laugh as he steps away from Derek. “Where’s that flowery language now?”
“It’s with my dry pants.” Derek rolls his eyes and looks down at the rather noticeable wet spot on his pants. “I really hope you’ve got a plan in mind as to how we’re supposed to get upstairs to our room without getting kicked out of the hotel for lewd behavior, babe.”
“Of course I do.” He totally doesn’t, but he’s a cop, so he’s used to thinking fast on his feet. After a quick look around, he smiles at Derek. “We can take the stairs because they’re at the end of the hall where no one is walking around.”
“The stairs?” Derek snorts. “The room’s on the twenty-fourth floor, Stiles, and you hate climbing stairs.”
“I don’t hate…” Stiles stops when Derek’s eyebrows go into judgmental mode again. “Okay, fine, I really do hate climbing stairs, but it’s either that or risk getting caught in the lobby by that nosy desk clerk. Anyway, I figured my strong husband would offer me a piggyback ride up the stairs.” He gives Derek his best flirty adoring expression.
“You so owe me,” Derek warns him, unable to resist Stiles, of course, because he really is that irresistible, if he does say so himself. “I’m thinking history museum followed by jazz club date.”
“Damn, it might be worth huffing and puffing up all the stairs,” Stiles says, making an exaggerated face even as he grins. Derek just laughs before picking him up and tossing him over his shoulder, totally forgetting the piggyback deal. Since this position does give him a good view of Derek’s ass, he decides not to protest, too much, even as he feels the blood flowing into his face. “Since this isn’t a piggyback ride, the terms of our agreement are null and void. You have to choose either a museum date or a jazz club.”
“Or I could drop you on your head,” Derek says, definitely teasing because he’d never actually do it. Still, Stiles isn’t going to tempt him.
“Fine. Museums and jazz for our next date night.” Stiles likes to win, but he’s willing to admit defeat sometimes. Okay, so it’s more like rarely than sometimes. Regardless, he’s letting Derek win this one because Derek likes history and jazz, and Stiles likes making Derek happy, so it works out for both of them. As Derek murmurs everything he’s going to do to Stiles when they get to their room, Stiles slowly smiles because this is definitely going to be a night neither of them forget. He can’t wait.