Chapter Text
Hot breath tickled his neck, the only warning he got before strong teeth bit down on the sensitive flesh at the junction of his neck and shoulder. The pleasure-pain flaring through Stiles' whole body made him tremble and his toes curl. There was no question whose teeth were slowly but surely driving him insane, who knew how to push his buttons like no one else.
"Hello again," Stiles breathed. He wasn't shy; he was quite the opposite actually, never shutting up, what with the lack of a brain-to-mouth filter. Somehow, though, he became much more self-aware whenever this mystery guy pressed his ripped body against Stiles' back.
Maybe it was the licking and the sucking, or the strong arms wrapped around him, or the big hard length rubbing against his ass that made him so self-conscious.
Maybe it was the being a complete virgin, who dreamed of the steamiest sex imaginable with a very demanding, hot guy while sleeping next to his dog thing. Who knew? And who cared when said licking and sucking left him with mushy peas in place of a brain.
"You taste so fucking good." The man's voice sent a shiver down his spine.
Even though the dream had barely begun Stiles was already a goner, more turned on than he ever had been in his waking moments. He wiggled, trying to turn around in the strong embrace but the man's grasp just tightened.
"No," mystery guy growled in warning, teeth sinking into Stiles' neck again to hold him in place.
"Oh, come on! I want to see you," Stiles whined, but knew he didn't stand a chance against the strength and will of this dream guy. And what exactly did that say about him - that he liked to be dominated and manhandled?
"Maybe next time... if you're a good boy tonight."
Suddenly, the man pushed and pulled him until his cock slipped between Stiles' ass cheeks, making Stiles' hole twitch in anticipation. Well, what was wrong with being a sucker for being dominated and manhandled? Ha, a sucker. Sucking his lover's cock. Stiles could definitely get behind that.
Thing was, said lover seemed to have plans other than letting Stiles turn and wrap his lips around what had to be a pretty well-proportioned dick. Stiles' clue was when the man behind him started sliding his cock along Stiles' hole, precum making his movements that much slicker, and better.
"You ready for it?"
Stiles could only nod frantically because Jesus, was he ready for it! He should've known better, though, when nothing happened - like literally nothing - no movement whatsoever.
And hey, how unfair was that!?! This was Stiles' dream, for Christ's sake! He decided when he got fucked!
Again, dream guy obviously didn't agree with him on that. "Say it!" his lover growled. "Say what you want and maybe I'll give it to you."
Stiles groaned in frustration. So far, in every wet dream of the last couple of months - which all had starred mystery guy as leading actor next to himself - the man had demanded that Stiles be vocal about what he wanted. And thinking back to the whole virgin in real life deal who, okay, watched his fair share of porn - he was a teenager, thank you very much - there was still the problem that he was somewhat bashful around his dream man.
'Jeez, get a grip, Stiles! This is a dream! No one'll know if you practice your dirty talk skills with ridiculously hot lover boy here. Who, just a quick reminder, doesn't even exist outside of your dreamscape!'
"Fuck me! Shove your cock inside me until I can feel it in my throat!"
When a low almost animal like growl rang out next to his ear Stiles would have loved to do a little victory dance. Score!
"As you wish. If this was real, you'd be feeling me for days."
For a split second, Stiles wondered how this imaginary guy who starred in all of his X-rated dreams could know that this was just a dream. But then, the man sank into him and all thoughts flew out the window. Or wherever else thoughts went when they were fucked out of your brain.
The man didn't give him time to adjust at all, just started thrusting into him in earnest, and Stiles really didn't need it. God, he loved his dreams!
Stiles moaned loudly when his lover twisted and pulled on his nipples - another button of his alongside praises of what a good boy he was, how very fuckable and pliant he was, which made him tremble and push back into each stroke with fervor, trying to give as good as he got. It was so good, the hard length inside him pounding into his prostate time and time again. He knew he wouldn't last much longer.
The hot mouth that had been busy muttering filth into his neck in between licking and nipping and nuzzling moved up to his ear, biting into the fleshy lobe before mumbling, "I'm gonna knot you now, baby. Make you feel so good."
Stiles gasped. Knot him? As in knot him, knot him? What the fuck?
Just when he started to think that now would maybe be a good time to wake up he felt a persistent push against his rim at every stroke of his - crazy? - dream lover.
"Relax. You'll love it."
Somehow, Stiles calmed down. Dream guy kind of always had that effect on him. Stiles trusted him. Dream guy always made him feel good.
Then, on the next push, the knot slipped inside, locking the man inside his hole, and Stiles went wild.
The constant pressure on his prostate made him thrash around, panting and moaning as if his life depended on it. Nothing, not a single thing, had ever felt better. Judging from the deep grunts and groans behind him, mystery guy approved as well.
"Good boy! Such a good boy! Gonna fill you up now. You want that, huh?"
"Yes! Yes, fill me up! Make me come!" Stiles whined, totally gone in the pleasure his dream man was bestowing on him.
"Come, Stiles! Come, now!"
Suddenly, Stiles felt a bite on his neck and he screamed, coming in hot spurts all over his stomach without ever being touched. He was still shaking with the intensity of his orgasm when the man behind him stiffened, calling something that sounded a lot like "Mate!" as pulse after pulse of hot come shot into Stiles. The sensation sent sparks flying through him, making his dick twitch out one last rope of come.
Sweet Mother Mary! Best. Orgasm. Ever. Even if he was just dreaming it. Didn't matter. It felt real, and he'd definitely wake up to soiled and sticky boxers in the morning. Yuck. Still, totally worth it. He'd so insist on knotting every time they fucked from then on.
Who'd have thought that it would be so good! He hadn't even known about knotting until just recently when he'd done some research on dogs after a very insistent specimen had shown up on his back porch again and again until he'd finally wormed his way into Stiles' heart and bed. Even though he'd read about it rather accidentally after stumbling upon it - how fucked up was it that he dreamed of it now, of being knotted, to cap it all off?
Ah, well, there were weirder kinks in the world, Stiles figured. And hey, he couldn't really be held responsible for his dreams now, could he?
Dream guy's cock was still locked inside Stiles' ass, spurting another round of come into him. Stiles grinned when he felt the man shiver.
"I'm a sex god," Stiles couldn't bite back, a smug grin on his face.
The eye roll was pretty much audible in the man's tone. "Shut up, Stiles, and sleep."
Closing his eyes, still sporting a smile, Stiles thought that it took his kinky subconscious to make him realize what he longed for the most. It wasn't the knotting in particular either, though that was definitely a bonus. No, it was the whole package that he longed for. Dream guy.
Fuck! Only he could be so stupid to fall for a figment of his own imagination!
Stiles sighed somewhat resignedly and decided to just relish the sleepy caresses of the man's big hands and the intimate connection that they still shared. The last thought before slipped away was how he wished that he'd wake up next to this man.
When Derek woke up, his muzzle was shoved into Stiles' neck, the skin there damp from his panting. His canine body was wrapped around the human as tight as possible. He went through a quick inspection of his state and was relieved to find he hadn't come in his sleep. It was one thing to be forced to be celibate around his mate and have a bad case of blue balls. But, it was another thing altogether to scare his human away by ejaculating dog spunk all over his back.
Besides, it wasn't as if he hadn't enjoyed their little dream session even without getting off physically. The mental climax had totally made up for it.
Tonight had been even better than usual. All of their dreams were hot and deeply satisfying. He was the one who created them after all. But, tonight's decision to finally introduce his boy to the miracle of knotting had probably been the best idea of Derek's life.
It all came down to Stiles in the end, always had. His reaction, his response was all that counted.
When Derek had first set eyes on the hyperactive kid roaming the woods with his friend he'd known that Stiles was it. The one. Fast forward through a couple of weeks of consequently stalking Stiles, and Derek had finally found himself in the place he wanted to be: his mate's house and bed.
Not even looking like a wolf - he was a werewolf, after all, not a weredog - had stopped him from getting what he wanted. Stiles wasn't stupid; far from it. He'd known that Derek wasn't a dog, but Derek had done everything to persuade Stiles of his harmlessness and his domestic behaviors.
Good thing nobody had been a threat for his mate so far or harmlessness would have been the last thing on Derek's mind.
It seemed that Stiles for his part had decided at some point to just ignore the fact that his new friend was a wolf. He'd started calling Derek "Dog", plain and simple, explaining to everyone who did and didn't want to know that Derek was just that, a dog, not a wolf or any other dangerous wild animal. Derek had only huffed after Stiles' first nervous justification and had been playing his role ever since.
At first, Derek had thought that just being close to his mate would suffice for now. But then their bond had formed, faster than Derek had anticipated, and he'd suddenly found himself in one of Stiles' dreams that had somehow resulted in an irrational jealousy of curly fries and their first dream make-out session.
Over the months, Derek had become a frequent visitor of Stiles' dreams. It was something he just couldn't deny himself. He craved to be close to his mate in any way or form possible, the unusually strong bond dictating their mental connection in their sleep. It was virtually impossible to resist the pull of the boy's mind when they were asleep because Derek didn't give in to the desire to invade his mate's mind without his consent while they were awake. That way at least, they both didn't have to suffer from telepathic separation but could enjoy their connection.
Derek just hoped Stiles would be able to appreciate that Derek forbade himself to penetrate his mate's private sphere, his thoughts, more severely, even though he was desperate to do it.
It was still too early, though. His mate wasn't ready yet for this kind of connection, for the big reveal, but Derek would continue to prepare him in their dreams.
Tonight had been a big step. Stiles had surprised him when he had taken the knotting as if he was born for it, loving it even, after only a short freak-out. Derek had slipped in his ecstasy and called him 'mate' but fortunately, his ever-curious human hadn't questioned it. This was a hurdle they'd clear another night.
Just as they would tackle the whole being telepathically bonded to a werewolf thing later on. It was a painfully slow build-up, but Derek knew it was worth it, knew it was the best way. He'd heard of others who'd totally overwhelmed their human partners by just dumping everything on them the minute they had found them. Derek had sworn to himself he wouldn't repeat their mistakes if he happened to have a human mate. He also wouldn't play games with his mate by meeting him as a human, pretending he didn't know Stiles, his traits and quirks and moans when Derek devoured him in their dreams.
No, he'd make his mate understand and fall in love with his wolf side when awake and with his human side while asleep before revealing himself and the complex nature of their relationship.
Maybe next time, he'd finally get over the ridiculous fear of not being Stiles' 'type' enough to let the boy see him in their dream. Maybe he'd tell him a little story in between their love-making about two souls that belonged together, no matter what form they took.
Maybe in the not too distant future, Derek would be able to hold Stiles in his arms in reality instead of in their dreams, and would be able to cherish and protect him just like a good mate should.
Nuzzling contentedly into the pale neck in front of him, Derek fell asleep again, surrounded by the delectable scent of his mate.
