the_water_clock: abstract painting (Untitled 1958 Coffee and Cinnamon)
[personal profile] the_water_clock
Author: Clio
Title: Distracted
Pairing: Teen Wolf: Stiles Stilinski/Derek Hale
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Stiles has been cruelly teased by Lydia and Erica when he was nice enough to give them a ride home. All he wants now is some special alone time, but apparently you can't have nice things when you're dating Derek Hale.
Warning: (skip) No warnings!

Length: 2000 words
Notes: This is a companion to the Lydia/Erica story Distractions, and fulfills the wild card square on my kink bingo card—I'm calling it "mutual masturbation."
A billion and a half thanks to [personal profile] verity and [personal profile] radioaches for beta'ing both fics!

Stiles was mostly just glad that he'd driven, and that his father wasn't home, because walking from the jeep through the house and into his bedroom with a giant erection wasn't his favorite activity, and he really didn't need to be doing it with an audience. And it wasn't even his fault, like his mind had wandered while he was driving, or the after-effect of sitting across the room from Derek at a pack meeting. This one was all on Lydia and Erica, who'd been sucking face in the back seat while he drove them home.

Seriously unfair.

He didn't even bother to turn on the light in his bedroom, just shut the door, got naked and flung himself onto his unmade bed. He grabbed the lotion and settled in for some special alone time, visions of Erica and Lydia making a Stiles sandwich for themselves in his head.

What? It could happen. Erica had wanted him once; she might be able to bring Lydia around, at least for one night, anyway. He closed his eyes and remembered the little noises they'd been making, and Erica's promise to call Lydia as soon as she got home. He just knew they were having phone sex right now.

Unlike some people who never got to have phone sex.

And then, because Stiles wasn't allowed to have nice things, he heard the quiet "woosh" and felt the gust of air that meant a certain creeper had just come through his window like it was nothing.

"What are you doing?" Derek asked.

Stiles rolled his eyes but didn't take his hand off his dick. "What does it look like?" he asked. "And I know you could smell me, even outside the window, so I'm not sure why you're here."

"I wanted to see you," Derek said, sitting down on the bed and knocking Stiles's hand away from his cock.

"You could have just come back with me," Stiles said, because after graduation, his father had eased up on Derek. The he-can-stay-overnight part was awesome; the Derek repairing the stairs on the porch and watching San Francisco Giants games with his dad part was just weird.

"I like the window," Derek said, shrugging.

"Anyway you just saw me," Stiles said, turning on his bedside lamp to even out the playing field, visuals-wise.

"Not like this," Derek replied, replacing Stiles's hand with his own, but moving maddeningly slow. He had that possessive gleam in his eye.

"Dude, whatever we're doing? I still get to jack off. Unless you want to be completely responsible for all my orgasms, in which case, you'd need to see me two or three times a day, which I'm pretty sure would cramp your style."

Derek pulled one of Stiles's legs onto his lap, spreading them, then reached down with his other hand to stroke Stiles's balls. "When we're living together," he said, like it was a totally settled future for them just because Derek's instincts said that they were mates. Maybe Stiles thought about it a lot, but that wasn't the same thing as Derek just living his life assuming it was going to happen because, danger. Also sometimes people changed their minds, especially since they had some long distance loving in their immediate future (and hello phone sex was going to be totally necessary for that) and also sometimes people got sick of each other. The only people in Stiles's life who hadn't gotten sick of him so far were his parents and Scott, which, he didn't really want to be thinking about Scott when Derek had his dick in his hand. But welcome to Stiles's brain, population way too many fucking people, hence everyone getting sick of him, which would probably be Derek eventually—

"Stiles," Derek said. "Focus."

"Sorry," Stiles said, and blinked before looking at Derek again. "Go on."

"When we're living together," he repeated, "I'm very sure that I will be able to keep you entirely satisfied." His voice was growly and low and Stiles felt hot all over, and a little confused that Derek would even want to make that kind of promise to him.

Nothing like a surge of emotion that you can't quite handle to make you obnoxious. "You could start by satisfying me now," Stiles said.

"Sassy," Derek replied.

Stiles snickered. "You love it, whatever," he said.

Derek just hummed, because seriously. "Thinking about me?" he asked.

"Actually, no," Stiles replied, and the ride home seemed like ages ago now; he had to think to remember it. "I was thinking about Erica and Lydia, who made out in my back seat all the way to Lydia's, and then Lydia made Erica promise to call her for phone sex as soon as she got home."

"Lydia?" Derek asked, scowling slightly. His hands had slowed down to the point that they were just keeping Stiles interested but not actually doing anything for him.

"Oh my god," Stiles said, because Derek still had a low-level worry about Stiles still being into Lydia and Derek being his second choice, which was totally untrue, and he needed to get over it, but hey, it wasn't like Stiles didn't have his own insecurities. "This isn't a Lydia thing. This is a two hot girls were making out in my backseat thing. This is a live girl-on-girl action in my rearview mirror thing. If you'd been there—"

"If I'd been there they wouldn't have been doing it," Derek said, not unreasonably. "I think they were teasing you on purpose."

"Well, that was working for me until you got here and slowed the party down," Stiles said. "I mean, seriously, I'm totally naked. You could at least take off your shirt."

Sometimes Derek actually obeyed direct orders, or even surpassed them. All his clothes came off and hey, that was a nice hard-on that Stiles was at least partially responsible for. "Okay?" Derek asked, putting Stiles's leg back across his lap.

"Yeah, that's nice," Stiles said, wrapping his hand around his dick and rubbing his knee against the underside of Derek's cock, liking the way Derek's eyes moved from Stiles's face to his hand and back again. "Just thinking about you, now."

"Good," Derek said, watching him, stroking the inside of his spread thighs.

"Would have been already if you'd let me sit next to you at pack meeting."

"You're distracting. You know that."

"Tell me," Stiles said, because yeah, he knew, but this is what passed for schmoopy dirty talk when you were in a relationship with Derek.

"Until I've fucked you," he said, "sitting next to you on a couch and still behaving appropriately is a little too much to handle." Which Stiles had also seen in action during movie nights with his dad, when Derek would sit in a nearby chair and they'd maybe hold hands.

"What about in the car?" Stiles asked.

"I don't like putting my hand on your thigh in front of other people," Derek said.

"You like my legs, don't you?"

Derek hummed again, because it was true; every time they were alone together even if they weren't having sexy times one of Derek's hands would find its way to Stiles's legs somehow. And Stiles had no room to say anything, because if it was up to him Derek would basically own no shirts. Or just wear his, which was almost the same thing.

"What about now?" Stiles said, smiling a little because he knew he was teasing and pretty much didn't care.

"Now I don't have to behave appropriately," Derek said, stroking Stiles lightly between the legs. "But we're not rushing it," he said firmly, and Stiles wanted to say that with the whole mate thing that horse had probably left the barn, but he didn't want to tease because to be honest he was glad that Derek was willing to just wait around on his virgin ass. Literally.

"I think about it," Stiles said, starting to stroke himself a little faster. "Thought about it today before the meeting."

"Yeah?" Derek asked. "Tell me about it."

"I was in the shower," he said, watching as Derek squeezed some lotion onto his fingertips. "I thought about what it would be like, having your cock inside me." He spread his legs wider to encourage Derek.

"Did you just imagine?" Derek asked, and Stiles felt his warm, slicked fingers at his entrance.

He bit his lower lip. "No, I—I put some soap on my fingers and put them inside."

"Like this?" Derek slid two fingers into Stiles. "Yeah, you stretched yourself, didn't you?"

"Yeah," Stiles said, because he had, but it still hurt just a little, enough to make him feel it.

"I'm glad I didn't know," Derek said, and it was annoying that his voice, while a little deeper and huskier, could say these things with such an even, conversational tone. "Sitting across from you in that room and knowing that you'd stretched your hole for me? I wouldn't have lasted ten minutes."

And it was still amazing to Stiles, even after months of being together, that Derek honestly did lust after his body. "Really?"

Derek nodded. "Did you do this?" He twisted his fingers and crooked them, finding that spot that he'd found before, that he always found, and Stiles gasped.

"Oh my god," Stiles said, because he was losing it. "Gonna come if you keep doing that."

Derek moved so fast that Stiles couldn't quite comprehend what was happening. He slid his arm under Stiles's waist and used that to pull Stiles into his lap, all while keeping the fingers on his other hand inside Stiles's ass. He kept his hand on Stiles's waist, holding him up enough so he could keep finger-fucking him. The idea of Derek hauling him around habitually by a few fingers in his ass floated across Stiles's brain and he groaned because let's face it, he'd always found the way Derek manhandled him to be kind of hot. He just didn't like to admit it.

All he could manage to say, though, was "fuck!" as he tried to keep himself up on his knees.

"I'm gonna make it so good for you," Derek said. "You're gonna love it." And Stiles could believe it because the finger-fucking was really good, and he was pretty sure Derek's cock would be even hotter.

"You'd better," Stiles said, and laughed breathlessly, because he really was going to come soon. He leaned his forehead against Derek's and grabbed his bicep with one hand while he moved his other hand faster, slap-slap-slap against his cock.

"Come all over me," Derek said. "Want your come all over me."

"Yeah, all over you," Stiles replied, and it was as though Derek's words and fingers and eyes were pulling the orgasm out of him by force. He swayed forward, his come striping Derek's ridiculously perfect chest and stomach.

Derek stilled, closing his eyes for a moment and biting his lip, because he was serious about liking it when Stiles came on him. Then he gently pulled his hand out of Stiles and sat him down on his thighs while he wrapped those same slick fingers around his own cock and came after just a few expert pulls. He rubbed his come onto Stiles's chest before falling back onto the bed.

Stiles rolled over to lay next to him, on his side, and rubbed his come into Derek's skin. "Bad boyfriend," he said, grinning. "You haven't even kissed me yet."

Derek raised one eyebrow. "Sorry about that," he said, pulling Stiles back on top of him. "I was distracted."

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