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The bed dipped and Stiles' back grew warm with Derek’s presence. Sunday morning. They had the day to themselves for once, no one expecting them, no Belgian vampire invasions or murderous sentient rocks to fight off. Scott was helping his mom clean out their garage and Stiles' dad was away at a cop convention.
There was nothing, not a single thing, outside Derek’s loft clamouring for either of their attention--nothing outside the room, in fact. Or the bed. Stiles rolled over, stretched fingertips to toes, and enjoyed the burn of his muscles as the sheets slipped gently across his skin. As the quilt slid off his waist and legs, Derek made an appreciative humming sound. Stiles grinned. The warm, toasted smell of coffee steamed through his nostrils.
Opening his eyes, Stiles pushed himself up on his elbows. Derek offered the mug to him, his lips quirked and his eyes sharpened with that look he sometimes got when Stiles was naked. Stiles pulled the mug to his nose and inhaled. He let his pleasure show clearly on his face and smirked internally at the sound Derek made in response.
The coffee was very hot, with just the right amount of milk and sugar. Stiles took a long satisfying sip, then placed it purposefully on the nightstand before turning back to Derek. Derek hadn't dressed yet. His hair was still sleep-mussed and his robe gaped open, revealing his wide, strong, utterly gorgeous chest. Stiles stared, fixated, then tore his eyes away to smile at him. Derek returned the smile. Then Stiles pressed the ball of his foot in the centre of Derek’s chest and pushed.
Derek lurched backwards and only stopped himself from toppling over onto the floor at the last moment.
"Dammit, Stiles!" He righted himself and rubbed between his pectoral muscles, glaring, his lip curled. A wave of heat flashed up Stiles' chest. He kicked out again, aiming for Derek’s shoulder, but Derek ducked away. Stiles tried again and this time Derek grabbed his ankle and squeezed it tight.
"I'm going to go take a shower," said Stiles, making his voice extra casual.
"Like hell you are," Derek said. He dropped Stiles' ankle, then stood and slowly shrugged off his robe. It slipped to the floor; he’d not been wearing anything beneath it. Stiles swallowed. Derek’s predatory grin made his stomach tighten. Then, with supernatural speed, Derek snatched up Stiles' ankle again.
Stiles squeaked and made a token attempt to kick free, but Derek held him fast. "You're a little brat," he whispered.
Stiles pouted. "Just playin’ around."
Derek rolled his eyes and grabbed Stiles' other ankle. Hiding his triumph at the success of his plan--Derek was so easy to manipulate--Stiles protested and struggled. With wide eyes, he kicked as hard as he could; they both knew there was no way he could break free from Derek’s grip, but Stiles put on a good show of trying. He wanted Derek holding him tight, holding him down.
On the rare occasions in which they had time like this to themselves, Stiles sometimes wanted to spend it lazily in bed, slowly exploring Derek, thrilling over each curve and rock hard plain, learning how Derek responded to being touched, kissed and bitten. Other times he just wanted Derek to hold him down and fuck him hard. This was the latter sort of morning.
Derek shoved Stiles' legs back and climbed onto the bed, then bent down between Stiles' raised thighs until his hips were pressed against them. It was impossible to not to feel frightened when pinned beneath Derek’s god-knew-how-many pounds of muscle; Stiles was well aware that Derek could end him with a casual swipe of his claw. They were both well aware. Stiles inhaled, then reached up and shoved Derek’s forehead. Derek growled; the vibrations ran right through Stiles body and the white-hot flash of fear went straight to his cock.
Stiles' temples prickled with perspiration. He licked his lips.
"You're asking for it," said Derek.
Stiles raised an eyebrow. "Yeah?” He squirmed. “You going to give it to me?"
Derek released Stiles' ankles and fell on him, his body hot and enormous over Stiles. Jerking and writhing, Stiles put his all into trying to escape, knowing he simply couldn’t. Then Derek got hold of his wrists and pressed them deep into the pillow above his head. His heart raced. He could barely move. Squeezing Derek with his thighs, he kicked, battering the backs of Derek’s legs with his heels. Derek’s chest rumbled in a silent laugh and Stiles thrust his hips up, turning it into a groan.
"You're such an asshole," said Stiles, panting. “You’re just gonna take what you want, aren’t you? Just use me?"
"You deserve it, you mouthy little slut."
"A savage…"
Keeping his eyes on Stiles, Derek reached for the nightstand and found a tube of lubricant. He easily kept Stiles pinned with one hand whilst flicking off the cap and then slicking up Stiles' cock. Stiles moaned helplessly. Such thick, strong, slippery fingers; his ass clenched in anticipation. "You're an anima--" Derek stroked him, hard enough to almost hurt. "A total monst--" He tightened his grip and Stiles' words caught in his throat.
Derek let go of Stiles' cock and then pressed his fingers roughly inside him. "Yes," Stiles gasped. "Please." He thought about that hand, how it was strong enough to punch through a wall. His ass clenched down hard and a broken whimper squeezed from his throat.
“Don’t you dare come yet,” said Derek. “I’ll tear you a new one.”
Stiles laughed and opened his eyes to see Derek grinning down at him. "Do it, goddammit. Fuck me, if you're going to. Fuck me, you insane werewolf."
The fingers slid out. Breathing hard, Derek positioned his cock against Stiles' entrance and pushed slightly in. Stiles did his best to brace himself. Then, all in one go, Derek shoved his cock deep into Stiles' ass. Stiles arched his back and gasped. He dug his teeth into his lip, trying to adjust to the hot burn of Derek’s cock thick inside him, and god, yes that was just right.
"Got anything else to say?" rasped Derek, then rolled his hips. Stiles yelled.
"Stay still," Derek ordered, his voice rough with command. "Take it." He thrust, quick and vicious. "Take my cock." One hand still held Stiles' wrists; the other slid into his hair, still sticky with lube. Stiles didn't care.
He spread his legs and lifted his knees. His body vibrated with the impact of Derek slamming into him over and over again. The mattress squealed beneath them.
Derek's fingers tightened painfully around Stiles' wrists. "Suck it up, you little slut."
His words sent shivers through Stiles' stomach and across his chest. "Make me." He tried to writhe, but Derek held him too tightly. "M--" Stiles gasped, trying to catch his breath. "Make me, you prick."
Derek thrust hard, hard inside him and then at just the right angle, just the right spot; Stiles mewled and whined, falling to pieces.
"Look how much you love it," said Derek, red-faced and straining. "Oh god, Stiles." He thrust faster.
"Derek," said Stiles, and then came, quaking and crying out. Derek whimpered, then slammed into him impossibly hard and went rigid. He groaned deep in his throat. Stiles’ heart pounded. Light swept across his mind in waves. Every nerve ending sung with pleasure.
Derek released Stiles' wrists and collapsed on top of him, alternating gasps for breath with hot, sloppy kisses. Stiles wrapped his arms and legs around Derek and kissed him back.
"God," said Derek. "Jesus, Stiles."
"Mmm." Stiles nuzzled Derek’s jaw with his nose.
Derek rolled onto his back. His skin was damp and pink. He turned to Stiles, gave him a sheepish smile, then blew out a puff of air and covered his face with his hands.
"You idiot," whispered Stiles, snuggling up to him. He pressed his face to Derek’s damp neck and inhaled--all that lovely, musky post-sex sweat.
"It scares me when I get like that with you."
"I love it.” Stiles kissed his cheek. “I love when you get like that."
"You sure?"
"You know I do."
"It still scares me. What comes out when you get me going. I worry I’ll take it too far and..."
"You won’t."
Derek lowered his hands. Giving Stiles a direct look he said, “I don’t want to hurt you.”
Stiles propped himself up on one elbow. "I know. I know you don’t. And you could. You’re strong enough, you could snap me like a twig.” He ran his teeth over his bottom lip. ”And, god, I love that.”
Derek looked incredulous. “You love that?”
“Oh my god yes. Do you have any idea how hot it is to be pinned down beneath you?” He ran his hands along Derek’s bicep and then trailed it down his chest. “Beneath all of this. When you're hot and bothered. When you’re calling me names?"
With a small grin, Derek shook his head. "I know you seem to like it."
"Oh, I do." Stiles moved closer and kissed the center of Derek’s chest. Derek made a pleased sound and ran his fingers through Stiles’ hair, gazing fondly. Stiles moved lower, his stomach, his thigh. He licked and nibbled until Derek’s fingers tightened against the back of his head.
"You're going to get me going again," said Derek.
"It's not my fault you have the refractory period of a rabbit. Is that another werewolf thing?"
"I don't’ know, Stiles. Are you a were-rabbit? Is it a rabbit thing for you?”
Instead of answering, Stiles nuzzled Derek’s cock, which was indeed beginning to stir. He curled his fingers around his own cock as Derek hummed and let his head fall back. Derek had to know how he affected people. How he affected Stiles. He shifted onto Derek’s lap, straddling him, then sucked behind Derek’s ear. Derek shivered and drew his nails up Stiles' back.
Had Derek ever felt like that, Stiles wondered. Had he been with anyone who made him feel helpless, irresistible and so turned on he could barely breathe? The idea that Derek might have done this with another guy sent a flash of jealousy through Stiles' chest and he growled into their kiss. He dug his fingers into Derek’s jaw hard while Derek tangled his in Stiles' hair. They were both getting hard again. Stiles rolled his hips and Derek sighed into his mouth.
I’m doing this, thought Stiles. He moved back a bit and set his hands on Derek’s shoulders. Derek raised his eyebrows, lips red and wet from kissing. Stiles pushed, urging Derek onto his back. Derek gazed up at him, smiling but with a faint line between his eyebrows.
"You should let me show you," said Stiles.
"Show me what?"
"How hot it is. To be pinned. And helpless. Underneath."
The smile grew into a vulpine grin. "Oh. I see."
"And I'll let out my… Harder side."
Derek snorted. "You've got a harder side?"
Stiles bent over him and looked him in the eye. "I used to be an evil trickster demon."
Derek rolled his eyes, looking slightly uncomfortable. Stiles kissed him until he relaxed again. Reaching between them, Derek’s hand found Stiles’ cock. "You are getting harder." With his breath coming heavier, Stiles enjoyed that for several moments. Then he pushed himself up and moved to sit at the end of the bed.
Derek watched him, blinking slowly, the corner of his mouth slightly turned up. His cock bobbed red and swollen over his stomach. Stiles felt a pull to take it in his mouth; he could imagine the delicious weight and heat of it on his tongue. But no. That wasn’t not what they were going to do this time.
He took a breath. He made his face go cold. It scared him a little, how easy and familiar that felt. Then he gave Derek a direct look and said, "Get on your hands and knees."
Derek laughed. "You dirty little shit."
Stiles summoned all his strength and smacked Derek’s hip.
“Ow,” said Derek.
Stiles made his voice dangerous. "Do it."
Starting to look slightly dazed, Derek grinned. “Yes, sir.” He gave Stiles a searching glance, then rolled over and got into position.
Stiles’ pulse sped up. Derek was doing it. He remained still and Stiles let him wait while he gathered his courage.
"What're you going to do to me?" Derek asked.
Stiles moved forward and grasped Derek by the back of his neck, then pushed him down until his elbows bent and his face was buried in the mattress.
"Anything I want," said Stiles. He held Derek firmly in place and watched to see what he did, how he was reacting to Stiles' treatment.
Derek turned his face slightly to the side, met Stiles' eyes, and then tried to push himself back up. Using all his strength, Stiles kept him down. "Stay," he ordered, heart pounding hard in his chest. Derek stayed. His teeth dug into his lip as if he were trying not to smile, but he stayed in place.
Cautiously, Stiles released him. Keeping his hands on Derek, first his shoulders, than his waist and finally his hips, he moved around until Derek was bent over on the bed in front of him. He took a moment to enjoy the view. Derek Hale had a gorgeous arse. Mine, he thought, and then he said it. "This is mine." He slid his thumbs along the sides, pressing in gently and enjoying the give of soft flesh over firm muscle.
Derek pressed back toward him, his voice muffled by the duvet. "Well, do something with it then."
Stiles spanked him, hard. "Keep your mouth shut unless I ask you a direct question."
“Holy shit.”
Stiles's voice filled the apartment. “I said no talking!”
Derek went quiet.
“You okay?” asked Stiles, and then winced. He hadn’t meant to break character.
“Just beginning to see what you mean.”
Stiles beamed. Then he forced himself to focus. He kissed Derek on his hip, then resumed massaging his arse. He pressed harder and deeper with his fingers until each rotation drew his buttocks slightly apart. His skin felt hot from his scalp to his toes. He’d topped with Derek before, but not like this. Not with this feral creature purring inside him, wanting to dig into Derek, to hold him down and take him.
And Derek was going to let him. He was into it.
"I'm going to make you beg for it." Stiles ran his thumb over Derek’s asshole; it twitched and Derek made a muffled sound into the duvet. Stiles stroked him again, pressing harder. Slowly, he began to tease his thumb inside Derek. Derek moaned and moved his hips back. Stiles gave him a gentle slap, then slid his thumb in even deeper. Derek began to pant.
"What do you want, Derek?" Stiles whispered.
Derek lifted his face, which was red and damp looking. "I want your cock." His voice came out in a low growl. "I want you to put your cock in me."
"You do?"
"Yeah. Yes, please, Stiles. I want it so bad."
"And what are you?"
"I'm yours. I'm your… your fucktoy. Do whatever you want with me."
Marvelling at how well and easily Derek adapted to this new role, Stiles swivelled his thumb inside him. Derek moaned and clenched. "You are my toy. You're my delicious fuck toy." He fucked Derek with his thumb. "Totally uncivilized. Just a hot, clenching hole and a filthy mouth."
"Nngh!" Derek moved his fist to his mouth and bit it.
"You're being so good," said Stiles, his voice thick in his throat. Damn, if Derek didn't make him helpless, even when he was playing the part of the one in control. He grabbed the lube and the room filled with the wet sound of his hand slicking up his cock. Derek moved his thighs apart, ready for him, asking for him. This was going to be so good.
Derek’s asshole glistened with lube. Stiles positioned his cock against it. He pressed in and slowly, slowly filled Derek up. Derek trembled, breathing hard through his open mouth. As Stiles pushed deeper into him, Derek moaned. Stiles gave him a moment. He rubbed the back of Derek’s neck and made soothing noises. Then he pulled out a bit and thrust in again. He dug his fingers into Derek’s hips, finding a slow, steady pace. "Look at the big, bad wolf, bent over and moaning."
"Ahh!" Derek twisted his hands in the sheets.
His arse gripped Stiles' cock so sweetly. Stiles pumped faster, arousal and need prickling through his thighs and his stomach. "So tight," he gasped. "Such a good, tight little slut." His thighs slapped rhythmically against Derek’s arse. He tried to rein himself in, tried to keep control, but he'd never been able to do that with Derek.
To distract himself from his own pleasure and hopefully extend it, Stiles slid his hand down and found Derek’s cock. He gripped it tight. It jerked in his hand with each thrust of his hips. Derek gasped, shuddered and spurted hot and wet through Stiles' fingers. Stiles pounded into him viciously, trying to come. And then he did, like a tidal wave. He held on tight and let it thunder through him.
Stiles' heart hammered in his chest. He could feel Derek’s doing likewise below him. Derek’s knees gave out and they collapsed onto the mattress.
It took several minutes before Stiles was able to push himself up. He rolled onto his back, utterly spent. A breeze slid through the window and cooled the sweat on his skin.
"Can I talk now?" Derek whispered.
Stiles laughed softly. "What if I say no?"
"Then too fucking bad." He slid his arm over Stiles's chest and draped a leg over his hips. Stiles turned to face him. Derek smiled at him and Stiles felt warm and light-headed.
“You’re perfect," said Derek, stroking the side of Stiles' face.
Stiles' skin tingled. His cheeks went hot. "Even when I'm a brat?"
"Even when you're a brat."
"Even when I call you dirty names?"
"Mm hmm."
Stiles closed his eyes and kissed Derek. He tasted salty and his beard needed a trim. "You’re pretty good too," he whispered against his lips, pulse beginning to race again, and then he could feel Derek grin. Derek hugged him tight and tighter, until Stiles was genuinely worried his ribs might break, but then Derek let him go.
Derek rolled over and checked the clock. "Jesus, it's almost noon. We should get up. Have showers. Get dressed and eat things, like normal people." He sat up and stretched toward the ceiling.
Stiles admired the shift and pull of his muscles. He was so very, very lucky. Derek caught him looking and smirked. Stiles placed his foot in the centre of Derek’s chest and pushed him off the bed.
-- The end