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The hour was late and road ahead of them was dark. It was a very starry summer night and there were no clouds in the sky, but as soon as the camaro drove through the dirt road Stiles felt the world closing in. He had been unnaturally quiet for some time, but it was for the best. Now, he could feel the woods like he hadn't in a long time. He heard animals whining in the distance, saw the tree branches move with the breeze and felt something strange in Derek, who was driving quiet, but tense. His stomach clenched, but he just closed his eyes, resting his head back and taking a long breath, and waited.
*
What had happened before at Lydia's party played in his head. He had been drunk, but he was almost sober now; he felt awful for what had happened. She had invited all of them to spend a fun evening, since they spent less time together now that they were in college. And he had ruined it for Derek. It had been him, too, who had convinced Derek to go in the first place. C'mon, sourwolf, we still don't know what's out there, so if anything happens you'll already be close to the pack. All the weird supernatural shit seems fond of Lydia's lake house, anyway, she's lost count of how many windows she's had to replace already. What can a little fun hurt?
Derek begrudgingly accepted, but he had basically been brooding all night in the bar counter until a cute girl in boots, leather jeans and a blue button-up sleeveless shirt had approached. Braeden, uh. Stiles was already drunk, and his drunk self had no moderation and apparently no idea on how to deal with his hopeless crush on Derek. At first he just glared, setting his drink loudly on the table and spilling some. He bit his lip. She was telling him something and he laughed. Derek's smile was like sunshine, and amidst his bitterness he couldn't help but feel a little warm inside. But then she started touching him, laughing too, fond smile but hungry eyes. Her hands rested over his shoulder. Derek was wearing a suit and he looked gorgeous. It was simply perfect; with black trousers, a matching black jacket now resting in a chair and a white button-up shirt with a black tie as well. Then she laughed again and her hand fell down to his side, her thumb wrinkling the fabric, and Stiles couldn't take it anymore. He grabbed his drink and made a beeline for Derek.
He was acting on impulse, and it was the worst idea ever, but now there was no way out. As soon as he approached the counter they both looked at him, still smiling from their conversation, and Derek opened his mouth to speak. He gave Derek his worst death glare, and Derek's grin turned into confusion and then amusement.
"This is-", he began.
"A bitch,", he said, coldly, and threw the rest of his drink at her face, soaking her shirt and leaving her in open-mouthed shock.
He stilled, glaring at her openly now, anger flashing in his eyes, like he could will her to burst into flames.
"who's leaving right now.", he continued, barely above a whisper, but enough that the three of them could hear it clearly.
Derek's face went blank, he stepped back, and she opened her eyes and looked down to assess that yes, she was soaking wet and stinking of alcohol.
"WHAT THE FUCK?! ARE YOU INSANE?!" she yelled, freaking out and in every way uncomfortable. She looking at him, at Derek and at herself and then again. People had stopped talking to stare at them.
"I'm so sorry", Derek said, mortified, and grabbed Stiles by the arm to walk away, "we're leaving", he told Stiles angrily. He kept staring back at her, still furious, until they were outside. Stiles struggled but they made it out. He heard Braeden screaming "YOU JERKS!" or something, but paid no attention to it. He made Stiles look at him "What the fuck was that?", he demanded, but Stiles didn't answer, only jerked his arm away and averted his eyes to look at the lake. Before Derek could say anything else, though, Lydia came out from the house, pissed as hell, and he could hardly blame her.
"I don't know what the fuck happened, but I'm not going to deal with any bullshit tonight. Thanks for your help, guys," she blurted, as she pushed Derek's jacket and his car keys into his chest, and he reached so he didn't drop them on the ground. "Take Stiles home, he's drunk. I don't want to have to deal with his father if anything happens", she commanded, and then turned around and went back into the house. Derek must've wanted to howl loud and tear things apart, but he just let out a deep breath. Then he gently reached for Stiles's shoulder, saying softly "Let's get you home". It wasn't really a suggestion, though.
Stiles just nodded and dropped into the passenger's seat, and next thing he knew they were already in the road.
*
Derek broke the silence.
"Stiles, what was that about? Had she done anything to you?", and then, "Who was she?"
"I didn't know her", he simply offered, and then looked through the car window at the still surface of the lake. The mild night breeze eased him out of his drunken stupor, clearing his head and thoughts. He had fucked up. "Sorry I ruined your night."
Derek huffed, and now his anger was palpable, his nostrils flaring. He said, quietly, "Stiles." "Why."
Stiles closed his eyes and rubbed his knuckles over them, thinking about how much of an idiot he had been and how he could get out of this one. Of course, his answer was the lamest possible, as if trying to piss Derek off more.
"I can't tell you", he said, pinching the bridge of his nose and tilting his head, sighing.
Surprisingly, Derek gave up without putting up a fight, and sighed resignedly. However, his body was still tense and he had an iron hold on the wheel.
"I need to stop at the lookout to clear my head before I drop you home", he informed Stiles, and he just nodded. The rest of the trip went by silently, but every minute dragged into an eternity and his throat was dry. He felt sick.
*
Derek killed the engine and got out of the car first. He opened Stiles's door. "Get out, you need fresh air."
Stiles thought this was not the time to be his usual impossible self, so he just got out. They sat at a wooden table with two benches in the outlook, in front of each other, silently, and Derek offered him some bottled water. He accepted it, opened it and drank, welcoming the fresh sensation in his throat and upset stomach. He spilled some down his chin and on his white shirt, similar to Derek's, although he was wearing a blue bowtie. He had also dressed up, with shoes and nice black trousers. He gave Derek the bottle and he drank too, not breaking eye contact, something indecipherable in his eyes. He felt oppressed and overheated, out of air. He tried to take it off but failed, and Derek leaned over the table to help, working easily as Stiles stared at his hands and then his eyes. He was clearly still upset. He left the bowtie in the table and sat again, still not breaking eye contact. Stiles felt naked and vulnerable, being pierced by Derek's green eyes, threatened, and couldn't help but be turned on a bit. He bit the inside of his cheek.
They couldn't be silent forever. Derek cleared his throat. Stiles rose.
"Derek, look, I'm really sorry, okay? I don't know what I was thinking. You really deserved to have fun and I ruined it. Please don't be mad? I'd love if you dropped the subject, like, forever."
Derek huffed a joyless laugh.
"Oh, don't be mad?" he said, rising too, and going to the part of the table where Stiles is now, sitting in a corner. He got closer and closer.
"I was having a conversation with a random girl and you come out of nowhere, throw a drink in her face," he said, pinning Stiles's thighs to the table and leaning in, too close for personal boundaries. He kept talking, close to his ear, stubble almost scratching his skin.
"You tell me to have fun and then you take it away. I could be with her tonight, you know? And instead I'm here babysitting you."
His breath ghosted over his earlobe, and Stiles felt a shiver run down his spine. The pronoun echoed in his brain. Was it possible that his crush was not so hopeless after all? He felt nervous and unsure, but he was half-hard with Derek so close and he knew Derek wasn't stupid. Werewolves can smell this sort of thing, after all, can't they?
He swallowed loudly and Derek brought a hand to his neck, over his throat, feeling his ragged breathing as he tried to get some more air. Derek stood back, hand still in place, looking at him with red eyes and an evil grin. "Did you think I didn't know?", his deep voice spoke, again right into his ear, and the sound went straight to his cock which was now completely hard.
Stiles moaned. "Y- yes?" He breathed slowly, then exhaled. He suddenly felt bold. "Are you angry because I cockblocked you? Because I want to make it up to you."
Derek laughed against his neck, maybe unaware of what that did to Stiles, and then fell silent, slowly cocking his head up to look at him, and lost all in his expression but the red eyes.
"You will", he deadpanned.
*
Not a minute had gone by, but Stiles was now lying back on the table, legs curled around Derek's lower back, and Derek was all over him. They made out furiously as they grinded together and Stiles's dick was leaking with precome, making his underwear and probably his trousers' crotch area wet. Stiles had never messed around with anybody past kissing, but he felt no complaints the first time was going to be with an angry Derek if it felt this good. He felt a bit intimidated, but it would be fine, he told himself. Derek was aggressively fucking his mouth, their tongues chasing each other in a heated kiss. He palmed Stiles through his trousers and his heart skipped a beat. He shuddered and moaned loud.
Derek broke the kiss and drew back so he was staring down at Stiles. Stiles was all wrecked, pupils blown, lips swollen and breath erratic. He undid Stiles's zipper. Derek grinned, and pinned his shoulder in place as he went down to mouth at his neck. As he licked the pale skin there, he undid the first buttons of his shirt to expose more skin. He licked his palm and then grabbed Stiles's cock, jerking him slowly. Then he bit Stiles's collarbone, enough to leave a mark, and licked up to his jaw, where nipped it with his teeth. Stiles moaned and kept whimpering.
"Do you want to come, Stiles?"
"... Der-, Derek", he said, and his eyes rolled to the back of his head as he looked up at the stars, the warmth of Derek's slick hand wrapping around his cock faster and faster until a cry died in his throat and he came harder than usual, ruining his trousers, shirt, and leaving Derek's fingers all sticky with his come. The aftershocks of his orgasm ran through him and his muscles tensed and relaxed until he was limp and blissful, his mind blank. He hadn't realized he was biting his lip, and he had drawn a drop of blood. Derek noticed, and went down to lick it clean. Then he said, and leered at him,
"You were going to make it up to me, weren't you Stiles?" Stiles smiled.
"Fuck, Derek, yeah, yeah, I'll do anything you want." he said, still breathing too fast. His heart was pounding in his chest with anticipation.
"Good", Derek said, and fisted his shirt to pull him against his chest, then cupping his neck with that hand to keep him in place, and quickly undoing his zipper with the other. Then he sat Stiles in a bench backwards, facing his crotch as he stood. He pulled his trousers down his thighs and his hard dick sprang free. He was uncut, thick, and fucking huge.
"Wha-?" Stiles tried to say, but Derek held his hair tight and shoved half his cock into his mouth. "Shut up". He yanked Stiles's head and tilted it so he could look at his eyes as the pressed the rest of his cock inside, hitting the end. Stiles gagged, precome and spit running down his cheek, and his eyes became watery. Derek just fucked his throat relentlessly until Stiles choked and tapped at his thighs desperately. Then he pulled out, and Stiles coughed and gulped for air, but after a few seconds Derek grabbed his dick, pushed at Stiles's flushed lips with the tip and went back in, quickly catching up to his previous rhythm, hitting the end with each thrust. Stiles closed his eyes
He turned out to be a quick learner, because this time he grabbed Derek's ass with both hands and used his tongue shamelessly in all the right places of Derek's length. Then he swallowed, and the momentary tightness was too much for Derek to bear, he needed to fuck something like that. He thrust his hips all the way in and out once or twice more and pulled back again. He took his time to appreciate what he had done to Stiles. His tongue chased after the tip of his cock, and oh was he fucked. There were tears down his cheeks, but he was breathing noticeably now, gaping and with dried spit and precome all around his mouth and down his chin. His stare was lost, and he wrapped his lips around the head, tongue swirling over his slit, as he realized Stiles was hard again. Derek smirked.
Derek caught Stiles by his throat and brought him up, then turned him around and made him kneel in the bench, hands resting in the table. He pulled his pants down to his knees and slapped his ass cheek. Stiles moaned again. He reached around and began jerking Stiles for the second time, stopping soon and taking some of the come from his first orgasm to use as lubricant. He pushed one finger inside his hole without warning, and Stiles moved away from it.
"Derek, what are you doing?"
Derek laughed. "I'm going to fuck you."
Stiles tensed. "What? No, Derek, I don't think this is the time... I... I don't think I'm ready for that. I mean, I've never..."
Derek pulled his body up by circling his hand around his throat again. His thumb pressed lightly against his Adam's apple, his mouth was against Stiles's neck side, making him shudder.
"You said anything", he replied, and Stiles really tried to get away this time, reeking of fear, but Derek held him firmly. He pushed the back of his head down, hitting the wooden table hard, as he gritted his teeth. "It's your fault I wasn't fucking tonight."
"Aw!" "Derek, I don't want to!", Stiles said, trying to push himself up with his hands, "Fucking stop!", he said with a shaky voice, "I don't..." until Derek took both his wrists and put them over his head, his hard dick resting against Stiles's ass cleft now.
"I don't care", he said, and aligning himself a bit against Stiles's hole, he spat on his dick's head. He pushed all the way in one steady thrust, grunting and gritting his teeth loudly again. Stiles's virgin hole was tight and warm and it was too much to take, the way it clenched around him as Stiles tried to get away, only managing to put his dick in deeper. He was squirming and at the sudden intrusion he screamed, loud and pained, until Derek let go of his wrists to put his hand over his mouth, "Don't want to be loud, do we? I'll let you come if you behave", and with his other hand he pinned his hips in place, hard against the dusty wood, as he began to move.
At first the thrusts were short and quick, and Stiles's ass was impossibly tight but he was beginning to relax, sharp pain and burn giving in probably to some pleasure too as his thrusts became deeper and he changed the angle so he hit his prostate. Stiles's muffled screams soon stopped in favor of choked sobs and whimpers. Derek took Stiles's dick with his hand as his pace increased even more, and Stiles was fully hard. He squeezed his dick, thumbing over the sensitive spots and smearing come all around. Stiles came for the second time as Derek fucked against his spot, inside, sending a new wave of pleasure every time he hit. As he spilled all over Derek's hand in white ropes several times, Stiles only emitted a half-sound, "ah", against Derek's hand. When let the hand from his mouth go, Stiles was panting. Afterwards, he went limp and stared at nothing. He felt the clench of Stiles's ass squeeze his own dick, and Derek could feel he was close.
Derek's dick was starting to hurt a bit from how tight Stiles was around him, so he pulled out and used the new, recent come to help. This time it was a slick fuck, but still hot and tight, when he pushed his way back into Stiles. He was still and quiet under him, and he thrusted as hard as he could into the wet warmth of him, grabbing his hips with both his arms, werewolf claws drawing blood as he pressed to keep him in place. His jaw muscle tensed, he looked up at the stars with his eyes flashing red at them, challenging. He opened his mouth as he came with a loud growl, filling Stiles up completely with his own come. His dick twitched a few times inside and he finally pulled out, pink and white come leaking from Stiles's abused hole.
Derek pulled his trousers up and closed his zipper. He sat in the other bench, looking at Stiles, and lit a cigarette he took from his pocket. He smiled and blew the smoke, an elbow resting in the table. He caught his breath.
*
"Are you okay?", he asked, a minute later.
"Yeah, yeah", Stiles said, still with his pants down his knees, but now sitting in the bench in front of Derek, looking at him from the side. "That was amazing", he grinned, "it was hard to be so quiet, but you were so hot"
Derek huffed a laugh, smiling fondly, "I'm not sure how you managed to be quiet in the car, but you did great", and Derek was silent for a bit,
"You're the best", Derek said, finally, leaning to kiss him tenderly.
"You know I hate smoke", he said, but pecked him back in the lips anyway.
"Sorry", Derek said, "just tonight", and petted Stiles's hair as he leaned into the touch. He sat back.
"Love you", he mumbled, resting his head against Derek's hand in the table and looking up at the sky again as his fingers caressed through his hair. The stars were so beautiful, and there was probably some meteor shower that night.
*
When Lydia walked back into the party, she went straight to the bathroom walking on her heels loudly. Allison was talking to Braeden, who was sitting on the toilet and was visibly irritated, but calm now. She had given Braeden a towel and some clothes from upstairs, which obviously belonged to Lydia. Allison looked up at Lydia as soon as she came in. Lydia sighed.
"This is Braeden, Lydia", she said, and Lydia gave her a big fake smile. "Who's the pale, gawky asshole that threw his drink at her and you kicked from the party?"
Lydia sighed harder, then resigned herself to answer.
"... It was Stiles"
Allison almost burst out laughing, but just giggled and tried to hide it with a hand as she left the bathroom "Excuse me, I have to see Scott."
Braeden frowned and looked at Lydia, lost. "Does she know them? Do you?"
"Yeah... kind of. Look, I don't know why that happened, I'm so sorry. You can stay if you want, they won't bother you tonight again. That was the boyfriend of the guy you were talking to. You can keep those clothes", Lydia said, as kindly as she felt she could, because she was exhausted. Stiles was going to pay for this, she would make sure. Then she left the room, leaving Braeden dumbfounded.
*
Back in the living room Allison and Scott were cuddling in the couch when Lydia arrived. She sat and rubbed her hands over her face, yawning.
Scott was chuckling when she opened her eyes.
"So, Lydia, do you think they were doing that weird roleplaying sex thing again? Stiles didn't tell me anything."
Allison laughed and rested her head against his chest.
Lydia took off her heels and sat cross-legged in her sofa. She nodded. "Either that or he's had a psychotic outbreak."
"He's not that jealous", Allison pointed out. "I mean,..."
"Yeah, and Derek's not that flirty, anyway" he added, as he ran his fingers through Allison's hair, petting her long hair and playing with the dark curls around his fingers.
They all laughed at the image of Derek flirting at all. He only socialized because Stiles and Lydia made him.
"God, I'm so tired. Allison, can you take care of this?", she said, rising and bringing her hands to her hips.
"Sure, sure. Go ahead upstairs and drop dead, you've had enough."
"We'll take care of everything.", Scott said.
"Thank you, sweeties", she said, giving them a genuine smile, content at the prospect of sleep.
*
The next day, first thing in the morning, Lydia kicked the covers and went to her personal bathroom. She washed her face with cold water, then decided on calling Stiles. After like a minute and thirty seconds he picked it up.
"What the fuck, Lydia? It's 11 AM!"
"Did you get home alright, you imbecile?"
"Well... I'm at Derek's, actually."
"U-huh. What the fuck was going on yesterday?"
"Oh", she heard laughter at the other end. Did Derek even laugh?
"Spit. It. Out.", she said, punctuating each word. "Or I'll make you pay for the scene."
Stiles knew better than to mess with Lydia any further.
"Okay..., so this time I was a virgin and had a crush on Derek, who was our friend, but he didn't pay any attention to me, and I was terribly jealous... then this girl came along, and originally it wasn't exactly planned, but..."
"Oh my god...", she groaned, thinking that Scott was right, but put the phone on speaker and went back to bed anyway.
Where the fuck did I put my green panties when I went to bed, she thought, but as she heard him go on, she guessed she didn't need them for the moment.