Chapter Text
Allison and Scott made him go to the hospital for his head injury. He tried to tell them that it was only a little concussion and it wasn’t a big deal but they refused to take him home before stopping at the ER.
Stiles was stuck in the hospital for about four hours before they finally let him go. Like he had tried to tell his friends, he only had a mild concussion which would dissipate with some rest.
When they finally got back to the apartment, Stiles immediately threw himself down on the couch and went to sleep.
When he woke up, the living room was filled with shadows cast by the setting sun outside the window. He stretched his body then went in search of his roommate. He didn’t have to look far. Scott was sitting Indian style on the floor of his bedroom, surrounded by paper. Allison sat a few feet away at the computer, printing out more articles. They both looked up and smiled at him as he walked in.
“So, what’s going on here?” Stiles had to ask.
“We’re looking up every article that mentions the Hale family or Hale Corp. If you’re gonna be involved with these people, we should at least have an idea of how dangerous they are,” Scott said, highlighting something on the page he was looking at.
Stiles rolled his eyes and sighed.
“I don’t know why you think I can’t take care of myself. But thanks, I guess,” he said.
“Are you going to stay in tonight,” Allison asked, turning from the computer screen, “Me and Scott were thinking about having an action movie marathon if you want to join us.”
Stiles thought it over but quickly decided that he had someplace better to be.
“Actually, I think I’m going to go ambush Derek. He should probably be home by now,” he said, trying and failing to suppress his grin.
Scott flopped dramatically onto the floor and groaned. Allison kicked lightly at his shoulder and smiled back at Stiles.
“That’s sweet. You should probably text him and make sure that he’s back before you go though,” she said.
Stiles nodded and pulled out his phone, ignoring the mumbling he could hear coming from Scott. He pulled up Derek’s number and sent out a quick text.
Are you home?
The reply was almost instantaneous.
Yes. Why?
Stiles opted not to answer and waved goodbye to Allison and Scott. It took him only ten minutes to get to Derek’s fancy apartment building. The doorman gave Stiles a weird look but let him into the building without any trouble.
He headed straight for the elevators and rode up to Derek’s floor. When he got to the apartment, however, he hesitated. Was this really ok to do? I mean, yeah, they kissed and all but maybe that was just an in-the-moment thing? Would Derek be unhappy that he just showed up like this?
Stiles was getting ready to just leave when the door suddenly swung open in front of him. He blinked a few times, taking in Derek’s amused expression.
“Were you just going to stand out there all night?” he asked.
Stiles blushed a little and scowled at the grinning werewolf.
“I was just admiring the hallway. How did you know I was here, anyway?” he asked.
Derek just tapped his nose then grabbed Stiles by the wrists and pulled him inside, closing the door behind him. He released his wrists but didn’t move away, crowding Stiles against the door.
“What made you come over?” Derek asked, leaning in and sniffing at Stiles’s neck.
Stiles’s brain cells short-circuited at how close he was.
“Um… uh, I just wanted to see you I guess,” he said.
Derek backed off of him and Stiles wasn’t sure if he was glad or disappointed.
“Are you ok? I mean, I know you’re physically ok, you don’t smell injured, but are you feeling ok?”
Derek looked legitimately worried and it took all of Stiles’s self-control not to just laugh in joy because Derek actually cared about him.
“Yeah. I mean, it’s not an experience that I want to repeat but your Uncle is actually pretty cool. Insane, but cool,” he said, laughing at Derek’s scandalized expression.
“Trust me, his charm wears out when you have to work with him every day,” Derek said, “I’m just glad you’re alright. Do you want something to drink?” he asked, moving into the kitchen.
Stiles followed Derek after a beat and stood in the entryway watching him reach into a cabinet for glasses. He hovered for a moment before steeling himself and walking straight up to Derek.
He touched Derek’s raised arm and when the man put down the glasses and turned to him, Stiles pressed his lips to his in a hesitant kiss.
Derek didn’t respond immediately and Stiles was about to pull away and apologize but then he felt an arm around his waist pulling him closer and a hand in his hair, gripping tight and holding him steady as Derek moved his lips over Stiles’s.
They kissed, slow and deep, and Stiles couldn’t control the occasional buck of his hips against Derek. It wasn’t until Stiles felt the hand on his waist go lower that he pushed at Derek’s chest, breaking the kiss.
“Wait, wait. What are we doing?” he asked.
Derek looked confused.
“Well, I thought we were making out,” he said.
Stiles rolled his eyes and slapped a hand against Derek’s chest.
“I know that! I mean like, is this a thing? Are we a thing?” he asked, holding his breath for the answer.
A look of understanding crossed Derek’s face and he leaned in until his lips were just barely touching Stiles’s.
“Do you want this to be a thing?” he said against his mouth.
Stiles fought off the lust haze threatening to overtake his brain and nodded.
“Yeah, I mean, yeah,” he said quietly.
Derek pressed his lips lightly against Stiles’s.
“Good. Me too,” he said before pressing his lips more firmly to Stiles’s and dragging him even closer.
Stiles let himself get lost in the kiss for a while before pushing at Derek’s shoulders. When he took a step back, looking at Stiles expectantly, Stiles raised his eyebrows and smiled.
“So, you never showed me your bedroom?” he managed to turn the statement into a question.
Derek gave him a toothy grin and grabbed onto Stiles’s hand. He half led, half dragged Stiles out of the kitchen and down a short hallway into one of the most Spartan bedrooms he had ever seen.
“Dude, you need some posters of something because this is just depressing,” he said.
Derek rolled his eyes and shoved Stiles off-balance so that he fell onto the bed. At least the sheets felt nice.
“I don’t usually spend much time here,” Derek said, crawling onto the bed and straddling Stiles’s hips, “and when I’m here I don’t do much else than sleep.”
Stiles pulled Derek down for another kiss.
“Well it’s all about the atmosphere. Feng shui and all that jazz. I’m going to bring you some posters or something,” he said between kisses.
Derek laughed against his mouth.
“I’ve seen your room and it doesn’t give me much faith in your decorating abilities,” he said.
Stiles huffed and shoved Derek onto the bed, flipping their positions so that he could glare down at the man. It didn’t seem to be working though, because Derek looked like he was trying not to laugh.
“I happen to have impeccable taste. I’m not taking judgment from someone with white walls,” Stiles said.
Derek didn’t respond but pulled Stiles down so he could kiss him. Stiles grabbed Derek’s hands where they gripped his hips and raised them until they were resting above his head.
“Keep them there,” he said firmly, looking Derek in the eye until he nodded his head, smiling.
He pulled off his own shirt and tossed it to the floor, pulling at Derek’s shirt until, with Derek’s help, he got it over his head and threw that to the floor as well.
Stiles kissed down Derek’s jawline, moving to nip and suck marks onto his neck. He kept it up until there were several love bites running down his neck. From the quiet moans that Derek kept trying to swallow, Stiles figured he was enjoying the attention.
When he started to kiss his way down Derek’s chest and stomach, Stiles suddenly felt a hand in his hair. He stilled and sat up, looking down at Derek.
Derek looked back at him, pupils blown wide and squinting up at Stiles as if trying to figure out why he stopped. Stiles could see the exact moment when he realizes and he laughs a little and places his hands back above his head.
Stiles grins and goes back to exploring Derek’s gorgeous body. Honestly, this man should come with a warning label for how attractive he is. He made it to the dark trail of hair below his belly button when he felt the ghost of a touch against his hair.
He froze and sat back up, smirking down at Derek who had already laid his hand back above his head. He shrugged his shoulders and Stiles debated what he was about to do for a few moments. Finally, he sighed and decided to just go for it.
“Do not move your hands,” he said, pushing energy and will into his Voice.
Derek must have felt the difference because his eyes were wide as he glanced from Stiles’s face up to his own hands.
Stiles panicked, hoping he hadn’t just crossed the line and completely ruined their relationship before they even started it.
His eyes were glued to Derek who was looking at his hands and tugging his arms experimentally. When he finally met Stiles’s eyes he looked more amused than angry.
“Well, that’s one way to do it,” he said, grinning up at him.
Stiles waited for the other shoe to drop. When nothing happened other than Derek groaning in frustration and bucking up against him, Stiles smiled and slotted himself back between Derek’s legs. He made quick work of Derek’s jeans, sending them to join the growing pile of clothing on the floor.
Somehow, Stiles knew Derek was a boxers guy. He giggled a little as he pulled them down, exposing Derek’s dripping member. He spent a moment just taking him in before ducking his head down and licking a stripe up the length of him.
Derek moaned and Stiles’s jeans were getting way too tight. He quickly shucked off his own pants and underwear then took Derek into his mouth almost to the base. It was times like these that Stiles appreciated the fact that he had no gag reflex.
Derek moaned long and low, his back arching off the bed though his hands stayed glued above his head. Stiles would have smiled if he could. Instead he began to bob his head up and down, swirling his tongue as best he could.
He hummed when Derek’s moans became more desperate, pulling off of him with a soft pop. Derek groaned in complaint but Stiles ignored him, sitting up so that he could look down at Derek.
“Can I fuck you?” he asked.
Derek looked at him like he had two heads.
“What the fuck do you think,” he practically growled, “lube’s in the top draw.”
Stiles stretched across the bed, fumbling around the draw until he found a small bottle of lube. Pouring a generous amount into his hand, he dropped the bottle on the bed and rubbed his hands together to warm up the cold liquid.
Stiles took just the head of Derek’s cock into his mouth and slipped his hand between his cheeks to rub at his hole. He mouthed and licked at the slit as he slipped first one, then two fingers in, twisting an bending his fingers until he rubbed up against Derek’s prostate.
Derek moaned and pushed back against Stiles as he added a third finger, still rubbing against his prostate with every thrust of his hand.
“Oh my god, Stiles. I’m ready just fuck me already!” Derek growled out, clearly frustrated that he couldn’t lift his hands to drag Stiles up his body.
Stiles almost laughed until he met Derek’s burning blue eyes. He felt heat pool in the pit of his belly and he scrambled to find the lube again.
“Condom?” he asked, voice rasping a little.
“I can’t catch anything so it’s really up to you,” Derek said, wrapping his legs around Stiles’s waist to hurry him along.
Screw it, he knew from Scott that werewolves were immune to diseases and he was clean the last time he checked. He dumped more lube onto his palm and quickly spread it onto his dick. He lined himself up and pushed all the way in to the base in one hard thrust.
Derek groaned like he was dying and Stiles had to hold still for a second and concentrate on not totally embarrassing himself by coming right there.
When the heat in his spine felt a little less overwhelming, Stiles started pushing in a long, slow rhythm, aiming for the tight bundle of nerves with every thrust.
The breathy punched-out sounds that Derek was making were driving Stiles crazy, and he was soon rutting against him with abandon. When he felt the pressure in his spine beginning to build, he reached between their bodies to jerk Derek’s ignored cock.
A few pulls and Derek was coming between them. Stiles bent over and swallowed Derek’s broken moan in a desperate kiss. A few more thrusts and Stiles felt his own orgasm tearing through him. He groaned as Derek continued to lick and nip at his lips then collapsed on top of the man, ignoring the mess on Derek’s stomach.
“Awesome,” he said, ready to just fall asleep on top of Derek.
Derek chuckled but didn’t say anything and they laid there soaking up the after-glow for several long minutes before Derek started to wiggle beneath him.
“You know, the use of my arms would be really nice right now,” he said.
“Oh right,” Stiles said having completely forgotten that the man was stuck, “You can move your hands.”
Derek pulled his hands down and stretched his fingers before wrapping Stiles into a tight hug and turning them on their sides. Stiles curled up in Derek’s arms and kissed his palm. He was still for another few minutes before the drying cum on his skin started to feel tacky and gross.
“I need a shower,” he mumbled, rolling away from Derek and off the bed. Derek watched him walk to the bathroom connected to the room. He paused in the doorway and looked back at Derek with a quirked eyebrow.
“Well, are you coming?” he asked.
“So his shower was that nice?” Erica asked, leaning against the counter and watching Stiles fill the espresso machine with coffee beans.
“I would literally sell my soul for his shower. There were two shower heads and water jets that sprayed up from the floor and wall. I want to move out of the apartment and move into Derek’s shower and just stay there forever,” he gushed.
Derek hadn’t understood what the big deal was. ‘It’s just a shower,’ he had said. Yeah, just like the Mona Lisa was just a drawing.
“So is he your sugar daddy now?” Isaac asked, slapping Stiles’s ass as he passed by.
Stiles scowled at him and rubbed at his backside.
“He’s my boyfriend, not my sugar daddy,” he pouted.
Erica laughed at him and pinched his cheeks.
“Same thing, sweetie,” she said.
Stiles slapped her hand away and she only started laughing harder. He ignored her and brought the bag of beans back to the stock room. On the way back, he paused and walked back to their Sexy Puppy scoreboard.
He erased everyone’s name and their points and wrote in big, black letters “STILES WINS.” Satisfied, he went back to the front to see Isaac and Erica crowding the register.
“Stiles, your sugar daddy’s here,” Erica called.
Derek rolled his eyes but smiled when he saw Stiles walking towards the coffee. He poured the familiar order, medium black coffee, and set it down on the counter.
“How cute,” Isaac cooed.
Derek looked from Isaac to Erica.
“I liked you guys better when you didn’t talk to me. Why do I even still come here?” he said.
Stiles smiled at his new boyfriend and gestured at the travel cup with a dramatic flourish.
“The magic’s in the coffee,” he said then laughed when Derek just turned around and left, waving behind his shoulder when he was almost to the door.
Stiles was looking forward to walking home with him after work.