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It happens accidentally.
It’s not the first time they’ve ever had sex – obviously. Stiles lost count somewhere around one hundred and four. Not that he’s keeping count or anything – except that he totally is.
But this is the different type of sex.
This is after the whole Mexico debacle where Stiles almost had a heart attack at having to leave Derek dying to save Scott and Derek totally achieving werewolf Nirvana. Derek rolls his eyes when Stiles calls it that but it’s totally his Nirvana. An idiot can tell from the way Derek’s lips twitch up and the flushed, pleased look his eyes give away.
But yeah, this? This was the totally hot, life-affirming, holy-shit-Derek’s-alive-sex and they’d both celebrated with tearing off each other’s clothes the second they were back in Derek’s loft, barely making it all the way to the bed before collapsing on to it. They’d pressed so close to each other that they could’ve just joined together as one and taken turns pressing hot, fervent kisses all over each other’s bodies and ending with Derek pounding his dick into Stiles so hard that Stiles had to hold on to the headboard, head tilted up in ecstasy.
The aftermath of the sex, though? This is so not what Stiles had planned and it takes Stiles a while to figure out what’s happening because he’s still sex stupid.
He pants, trying to catch his breath, having entered a Nirvana of his own – sex Nirvana, Stiles smirks – and tries to adjust himself so that he’s not bearing the brunt of Derek’s weight on himself. The important word to focus on is tries. Because the second he tries, he and Derek both hiss at the slight pain mixed in with Derek’s dick hitting Stiles’s prostate at just the right angle. It’s then that Stiles finally sobers up enough from the sex haze to notice what feels like a plug inserted up his ass – in the shape of Derek’s dick.
He smiles to himself. That’s a nice thought actually. Someone should get on that. Someone should just take a mold of Derek’s dick and totally make a dildo from that.
Derek lifts himself, hovering above Stiles on his elbows, and blinks at Stiles. “Um.”
That brings Stiles back to reality and he frowns, “Derek, why can’t I move?”
They both look between them to where Derek’s dick is still snug inside Stiles’s ass, with no intentions of wanting to slide out. Stiles tries to wriggle but stops at the pain that shoots up his spine. Derek’s still blinking at him, trying to figure out what’s happening to his dick and finally,finally, it clicks in Stiles’s head.
He may or may not have spent hours reading werewolf erotica – which, who even knew that was an actual thing that happened – after he and Derek became a thing and he knew what this was.
He sighs, closing his eyes. “Derek, I’m really happy you managed to evolve but seriously, did your dick have to evolve too?”
“Um.”
“That doesn’t actually help, asshole. And just so you know, you’re like two hundred pounds of pure muscle. If we’re going to be stuck like this, this position needs to change.”
Derek narrows his eyes at Stiles, trying to look annoyed, but failing spectacularly judging from how red his cheeks were getting. “How do you even know what this is? I didn’t even know this could happen.”
Stiles coughs, looking anywhere but at Derek. “Literature.”
“Literature,” Derek repeats, flatly, one eyebrow raised.
Stiles huffs, “It was research!”
“You did research on werewolf sex.”
He colors slightly, mumbling, “I do research on everything.”
Stiles perks up, suddenly, peering at Derek through dark lashes and Derek loses his breath for a second – okay, a minute – at the sight. “Speaking of which, does this mean we’re werewolf married? Because I’m only seventeen, Derek, and I don’t think my dad would be too impressed of me being married. Also, I’d like to avoid being married so young, just so you know.”
“No, you idiot, it doesn’t mean we’re werewolf-married. And werewolf-married, really? Does your research also tell you that when werewolves mate they dance naked in a circle under the full moon?”
“Um,” Stiles flushes but asks because he has to know. “So that’s not what happens, right? Like, we’re not mates or anything, right? And I won’t have to pledge my life to you by, uh, dancing naked in front of the pack, right?”
Derek quirks an eyebrow at him. “No, Stiles,” he says slowly like he’s talking to a five year-old. He smirks slightly then, “You’d actually have to sing to the Moon Goddess while you’re dancing naked and then go on a full run with us.”
“What!” Stiles squeaks, flailing, but it only ends in he and Derek both wincing at the pressure Derek’s knot puts on Stiles’s ass at the sudden motion. Derek huffs out a laugh against Stiles’s neck and Stiles flicks Derek’s ear.
“You’re an asshole.”
“Too bad you’re stuck with me,” Derek muses, his eyes sparkling. “Literally.”
“Oh look who also managed to gain a sense of humor with his little evolution,” Stiles mutters, rolling his eyes. “So, uh, how long are we stuck like this, by the way?”
Derek sighs, “I don’t know. I didn’t even know this was a possibility. The only other werewolves who could do a full wolf shift were my mom and Laura and…”
They both wince because neither of them need that image in their heads.
Stiles hums, “Okay, well, you’re going to have to do something about this big guy because you weigh a metric ton and I’m a squishy little human.”
Derek rolls his eyes, “Oh now, you’re a squishy human.”
Nonetheless he slides one arm under Stiles and carefully flips them, amidst hisses and curses from both of them, so that Stiles is now laid out on top of Derek. They’re quiet for a full minute with Stiles’s head against Derek’s chest and his fingers drawing lazy circles on Derek’s shoulder before he glances up at Derek.
“I’m bored, Derek.”
Derek pinches the bridge of his nose. “You are the biggest diva during sex.”
“Oh, forgive me, if I didn’t plan for having you stuck to me for hours on end.”
“I’m so lucky to have you in my life,” Derek muses, smiling. Stiles rolls his eyes at the sarcasm but says nothing because fuck yes, Derek’s lucky to have him in his life.
Stiles presses closer to Derek, which only encourages Derek to tighten his arms around Stiles, moving a free hand to card through Stiles’s hair. The motion itself is so soft and comforting that it makes Stiles smile against Derek’s chest. This, right here, is what Stiles loves about having sex with Derek. Sex with Derek is always good – even when they’re tired and lazy and only about the sloppy blowjobs – but it’s the after care. It’s about Derek allowing Stiles to just plaster himself all over Derek and him enveloping Stiles close to him like he’s scared to let him go. It makes Stiles smile because Derek has rejected touch from most of them for so long thanks to a certain Argent but slowly, he’s begun to accept touches and not just from Stiles but the whole pack.
Werewolves are tactile creatures but Derek has never been one of those, always choosing to isolate himself from other people’s touch. Now though? He’s the one who’ll reach out and it makes Stiles’s chest swell with happiness when he sees it. Stiles tilts his head up and presses a gentle kiss to the base of Derek’s neck. They lie like that for a few minutes, not saying a word, just breathing in each other’s air.
A beat later, “I wish I had a crossword right now. I could have a race with your dick – who finishes faster, the human or the knot?”
“…I hate you.”