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Stiles attacked his lips, licking into him. The kiss was sloppy and wet and needy. But Derek didn’t mind. This is what he needed right now.
He could feel their hearts beating to a melody only he could hear. His nearly matched the human’s naturally speedy beats as they knocked into the walls, making their way towards the bedroom.
He wanted Stiles. Needed him laid down underneath him. Spread out on his fingers. Whimpering Begging.
He needed to know Stiles was there with him. Especially seeing the boy with a knife at his throat thanks to a few rogue hunters not two hours before.
He was pulled from his worry thoughts, however, as Stiles’ teeth grazed the bottom of his lips.
It had been an accident, he could tell by how the boy apologized by sucking at the area immediately after.
But in this head space, Derek liked it. He wanted it like that. Quick. Messy. Sharp pains and lasting pleasures.
He hitched Stiles’ legs over his hips as he started up the stairs. If he had kept Stiles on the ground they would have never made it up. And having Peter or Cora walk in on them was worse than waiting the extra minute or so. According to him at least. Stiles, clearly could care less.
At the 'mph' of surprise that came with being airborne, Derek pulled back from the kiss and grabbed the lobe of Stiles’ ear between his teeth and ground down a bit.
Stiles gasped into the air and rubbed his hips into Derek’s groin, causing him to hiss and nearly lose his footing.
“Stiles,” he scolded.
His only response was to do it again while latching onto Derek’s neck, sucking harshly at the skin there. It was when Derek jumped up a step that Stiles’ teeth scraped along his vein.
The wolf had no choice but to hurry up the rest of the stairs before his legs gave out from under him.
Once they reached his room, he kicked the door shut and tossed Stiles onto the bed. And before he could complain, Derek was covering him with his body.
“Der," he whined.
He immediately went for his mouth. Using his teeth to pull Stiles’ lips, aching to see his features swollen and red.
In his eagerness he clamped down too hard, making Stiles jump in surprise and struggle back.
“You bit me,” he announced, eyes wide on bated breath, bringing his hand up to touch the already swelling mark.
Derek’s only answer was to smirk before dipping in to suck on the wound. They were caught up in each other once more, dicks seeking friction, bodies seeking closeness. Derek had thought the incident had been forgotten about until Stiles clamped down on his shoulder. Hard.
“Fuck.”
Stiles stilled beneath him, unsure if the action was welcomed or not, “Is...is that a good fuck or a bad fuck?”
Derek rolled his hips in response before vocalizing, “G-good. Do it again.”
Stiles complied, slotting his mouth over the bite mark that Derek refused to heal before moving a few inches over to bite again. This continued until Derek was painfully hard in his jeans and felt the dampness of his precum staining his briefs.
He quickly finished undressing both himself and Stiles and went to work on prep. Stiles groaned and gasped underneath him as he worked him open on his fingers. He licked into his mouth as he added a second and then a third.
Stiles was a writhing sweaty mess by the time he was deemed loose enough for a fourth.
“Please, Der. Please. I’m ready. I’m ready. Fuck me.”
“Be patient.”
“Derek!”
He grabbed hold of Stiles’ slick cock, jacking it slowly as he continued working his fingers in and out of him. He rose so that he could again, nibble on his ear and kiss his way down to his neck. Stiles was reduced to a needy gasps and breathless moans.
Derek smiled against his partner’s sweaty skin before he made a matching set of bite marks on the crook of the boy’s neck, making him cry out.
“Shit.”
Derek nosed at it, “Okay?”
Stiles nodded for a moment before exhaling, “Yeah, yeah.”
He bit down again, this time while curling his four fingers upwards as they prodded around inside Stiles.
“Fuck, Derek. Please.”
“Turn over,” he grunted, pulling back and grabbing hold of his own cock to stop himself from cumming.
The sight of the bite mark...the claiming mark on his mate’s skin was good enough to get him off right then and there.
Derek quickly went to work, “Tell me if it’s too much,” he warned.
“If what’s too much?”
He was answered by a pair of teeth sucking into his shoulder blade, making his toss his head bad and hiss long and low while his hands blindly gripped at the sheets.
Derek planned to litter Stiles’ spine with his claim. He wanted to mark him.
In the morning he wanted to see the red and purple marks against pale skin. A constant reminder, a tangible claim. He wanted Stiles to look in the mirror and be reminded who he belonged to. He wanted him to feel his possession every move.
Derek wanted to see the beautiful picture of a just fucked Stiles in his bed, of a claimed Stiles. He wanted to see this for days, weeks. See the replay of Stiles writhing underneath him as he opened him up on his fingers, of Stiles grinding his hard member into Derek’s as they made their way to the bedroom, of Stiles’ teeth sinking into his shoulder, claiming Derek just as much as Derek claimed him.
He bit down gently, enough to bruise, but not enough to break skin. He left upwards to seven or eight marks, suckling at them and leaving them sheen with saliva. He could have kept going for hours, vovering all of the man he loved in bruising marks, but decided to she mercy when he felt Stiles’ hips grounding down underneath him, seeking any friction he could find.
“Are you ready?”
“Are you serious?”
“Stiles,” it came out as a warning.
“Fuck. Yes Derek. I’m ready. Please, just fuck me already.”
He nuzzled behind his ear before grabbing the lube next to them and slicking up his cock for good measure.
Stiles flipped onto his back, wincing at the already bruising marks and glaring when Derek couldn’t hide his smile.
Stiles scoffed, “Yeah, you won’t be smiling when I explain to my Dad or Scott why I look like I was attacked by a love happy bunch of leeches.”
Derek snorted but continued to line himself up.
"These are just for me, Stiles," he reminded, pressing a kiss to the already bruising mark at his throat.
As he pushed himself into the warmth, his hand found Stiles’ while his other’s guided his member.
They both let out groans of a steady mix of discomfort and relief as Derek bottomed out. After a few moments of breathing into each other’s mouth, Stiles wiggled beneath him.
“Okay. Okay, you can move,” he sounded wrecked and Derek loved it.
He slid back before pushing in again.The slick of the lube did little to slick them up. It helped in comfort and to get rid of the dryness, but the first few thrusts were still slow and languid. They eventually sped up, Derek’s hips rolling opposed to pistoning in.
“Oh. Derek.”
At that broken off noise, he leaned up and kissed the other man slowly. Stiles’ hand came up to cup his face while his free hand was rested on Derek’s hips. With the hand that wasn’t holding himself up, Derek covered Stiles’ long fingers on his face and moaned into the kiss.
“Fuck,” Derek hissed as Stiles’ unconsciously tensed, squeezing the wolf’s dick inside.
“H-harder Derek. I need...harder, please.”
Derek dropped his hand and reached in between them to grasp Stiles’ dick. His hips pushed in and out with more force, the sound of slapping skin becoming louder in the room, joining the chorus of gasps and groans of pleasure.
“Yes,” Stiles choked out.
Derek continued at that pace until he felt the warm curl in his lower stomach, the promise of an amazing orgams just out of reach. He slammed his hips into Stiles, making the bed shift beneath them.
“Ah! Yes Derek. Yes yes yes.”
Both of their affirmations rose in volume. Stiles babbling nonsense as Derek hammered into his prostate over and over again with all his strength while Derek let out loose broken grunts and small cries of pleasure. He kissed Stiles feverishly, teeth clacking together, soft mouths moving against each other.
It was Stiles’ orgasm, a sharp shout and a tense frame, that finally brought him over the edge as well. The wall around Derek’s cock closed in and he felt the release wash out of him.
On his cry he brought his mouth down to muffle it, biting into Stiles’ bottom lip. The younger man hissed as he brought his tongue up to lick away the blood while Derek’s hips stuttered as he rode out his orgasm.
“Fuck,” came his own broken voice as he lifted himself off Stiles and dropped next to him.
Once he caught his breath he thumbed at the swollen lip he’d left slowly.
“‘m sorry.”
Stiles didn’t have the energy to argue that he knew he wasn’t and only curled in tighter to his boyfriend’s warm chest. Not even bothering to clean themselves up, they fell asleep in each other’s warm embrace.
And Derek was right. Seeing Stiles spread out in his sheets, the evidence of the night before left all over his pale satin skin, was absolutely beautiful.