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Derek pushed the back door open cautiously. ‘Hello?’ His gut was churning with a sickening mix of apprehension and arousal. The ten minute drive had given him enough time to slow down and think, to almost talk himself out of coming back. It had also been enough time for him to fantasize himself into a frenzy that left him half hard and powerless to stay away.
He let the door snick shut behind him as he ventured further into the bar. The room was dim, the lights all off except one – the pendulum light above the pool table. Its soft, yellow glow revealed Stiles; he was half leaning, half sitting on the table, his arms at his sides, hands gripping the edges. ‘Well hey,’ he smiled, slow and bright, ‘I wasn’t sure you were gonna turn up.’
‘I wasn’t sure you were going to be here,’ Derek returned, sliding his jacket off his shoulders. Stiles watched the movement carefully. Derek approached him from the side, reaching out to snag a ball from the table. It was cool to the touch, smooth and heavy in his hand. He rolled it between his palms. ‘Glad you are.’
Stiles’ chest hitched in a silent laugh. He reached out to pluck the ball from Derek’s hand, dropping it into a corner pocket where it clinked against others of its kind. The noise seemed loud in the heavy silence of the empty bar. Suddenly bold, Derek moved forward, bracing his hands on the table and trapping Stiles between them. He leaned in, letting his eyes rake down the other man, starting from his artfully coiffed hair and finishing where his jeans clung to his slender hips. When he looked back up, Stiles’ face was transformed with lust, eyes dark and mouth open, each exhalation revealing a flash of soft, pink tongue. There was barely a hair’s breadth between them.
‘So, I know I made a suggestion before,’ Stiles’ voice was strained as he tapped the pool table, ‘but I have a better idea. This way.’ He grabbed Derek’s hand and shouldered out from between his arms. Where they touched, Derek suddenly felt as though he were aflame, tingling sparks dancing across his skin. He dumbly followed as Stiles led him up a short flight of stairs and then through a door. Stiles flicked on a light and Derek found himself standing in a small studio apartment. ‘You live here?’ He asked.
‘Yep,’ Stiles was pulling his hand again, and Derek obediently followed. ‘A little more privacy, and a lot less chance of me getting fired,’ he smiled; it was a little lop-sided, unselfconscious and genuine, and Derek decided he liked it. Stiles let go of Derek’s hand so he could hoist himself up onto a wooden dining table in the center of the room. He slapped his hand against its surface, ‘it’s not exactly a pool table, but it’s pretty sturdy so-’ that was as far as he got, Derek surging forward to press into his lips.
Stiles’ words turned into a moan, his thighs tightening against Derek’s hips as his hands began to enthusiastically explore Derek’s body. Derek responded in kind, slipping his large hands under Stiles’ shirt and palming his lithe frame. His fingers curved around Stiles’ ribs, one thumb slipping over to rub gently across a nipple. Stiles groaned, breaking the kiss as his head fell back with pleasure. ‘Really?’ Derek smiled into bared neck, ‘okay.’ He tugged at Stiles’ shirt, pulling it over his head and watching as it peeled away from his arms, revealing toned biceps and strong forearms dusted with dark hair.
Derek dipped his head to Stiles’ chest, his tongue laving over one nipple, and then the other, as Stiles came undone beneath him. ‘Oh, god,’ Stiles breathed, one hand carding though Derek’s hair, the other running down his back, ‘feels so good.’ Derek let his teeth scrape across the sensitive skin and Stiles’ hips jerked. ‘Holy crap, baby, don’t stop.’
Derek huffed a laugh, his breath ghosting over the spit-slick skin and making Stiles shiver. ‘Baby?’ He mouthed his way back up Stiles’ body until they were kissing again, and then pulled back. ‘Really?’
‘Well you never told me your name,’ Stiles said reasonably as he unbuttoned Derek’s shirt, ‘and hot guy from the bar is kind of a mouthful.’ He inhaled, quick and sharp, as Derek tugged off his shirt. Stiles’ eyes raked across his exposed body, his hands skating across the defined abs, up over the swell of his pecs and across his hard nipples.
Derek smirked, reaching forward to pull Stiles off the table and against him, ‘I was kind of hoping you could handle a mouthful.’ His eyes dropped to Stiles’ lips, pink, plump and inviting.
‘Oh, you have no idea,’ Stiles breathed into Derek’s ear, smoothing his hands across his broad, muscular back. ‘I’ll suck every thought you’ve ever had in that pretty head right out through your dick; you won’t even know your name. So you better tell me now.’ Derek could feel the curve of Stiles’ smile against his neck, and felt his own mouth mirroring it. ‘So I have something to call out when you’re fucking into me.’
Derek groaned, tightening his hands on Stiles’ hips. ‘Derek,’ he said desperately, ‘I’m Derek.’
‘Derek,’ Stiles echoed with smile, and then he dropped to his knees in one smooth, sinuous motion. Derek leaned forward to grip the table edge as Stiles unbuckled his belt with singled-minded determination, flicking open his button and lowering his fly. Derek tensed with anticipation; eyes squeezed shut as he waited for the first touch. When it didn’t come, he opened his eyes and looked down to see Stiles simply staring at the outline of his cock where it strained against his underwear. Reaching out, Stiles tugged at the slacks until they slid off Derek’s hips and pooled around his ankles. Then he surged forward, his mouth latching onto the underside of Derek’s dick through his underwear.
Derek felt like his insides were liquefying into lava, his body burning up from the inside out as Stiles dragged his tongue across the thin cotton, his strong hands gripping at Derek’s thighs. ‘God, Stiles, please,’ the words slipped out unbidden, Derek’s knuckles were shining white as he gripped the table like it was a lifeline.
‘Please what?’ Stiles teased, his fingers skating along the waistband of Derek’s underwear.
‘Need your mouth, god, just suck me.’ If Derek was a little more self aware in that moment, he would have felt silly. Embarrassed, even, because Derek Hale didn’t beg. Derek Hale made other people beg. Derek Hale pounded twinks into their mattresses until their fervent begging became incoherent moans, but Stiles, Stiles had Derek begging like this was the last lay he’d ever get in his life.
‘Since you asked so nicely,’ Stiles’ tone was light, unaffected, and it made Derek want to bury his cock in Stiles’ throat until he choked on it because if Derek felt like this then Stiles should too, damn it. But then Stiles was peeling down Derek’s underwear and Derek became incapable of coherent thought because Stiles’ mouth was on his dick.
There were no kitten licks, no tentative strokes; just one broad hand wrapped around the base while Stiles’ hot, wet mouth engulfed the head and half the shaft. His tongue flicked beneath the glans, tracing the thick, pulsing vein on the underside and moaning wantonly. Derek lifted one had from the table to slide it through Stiles’ hair, petting him encouragingly as words fell from his mouth, ‘oh god, Stiles, yes, your mouth, feels so good, don’t, don’t stop, take it for me, god yes, just like that.’
Stiles moaned happily beneath him, one hand sliding around Derek’s thigh to palm at his ass, squeezing and caressing in equal measure. Suddenly he pulled back, one hand on Derek’s hip to stop him from jerking forward. ‘Derek,’ he groaned, giving him one long lick from base to tip, ‘I need more, give me more,’ and then he was swallowing him down once more, only this time both of his hands were on Derek’s ass, pulling him forward encouragingly as he sank his mouth further down onto Derek’s cock.
‘God, Stiles,’ Derek moaned, tugging at his hair, ‘are you sure?’
Stiles just looked up at him steadily from underneath his long, thick lashes. His nose was almost in Derek’s pubic hair, the tip of Derek’s cock was pressing against the back of his throat, and Stiles swallowed. Derek’s fingers clenched uncontrollably in Stiles’ hair and his hips surged forward.
Something in him snapped, that last frail tether dissolving under an onslaught of want and need and pure, selfish arousal. ‘Fuck,’ he growled, both hands on Stiles’ head now. ‘You fucking love it, look at you taking my cock down that slutty throat, Stiles.’ Stiles’ jaw was slack; eyes watering Derek fucked his mouth. He moaned around the cock, his hands squeezing Derek’s ass, fingers skimming across the cleft between his cheeks.
Derek felt a finger brush across his hole, the new sensation pushing him dangerously close to the edge, and he regretfully pulled himself from Stiles’ mouth. He reached down to grab Stiles by the arms, heaving him up and immediately attacking his mouth with a fierce kiss. ‘You’re amazing,’ he breathed against Stiles’ spit-shiny lips, and he meant it.
Stiles smiled, and it was so damn sweet for someone who’d just had a dick in his mouth. ‘You’re pretty good yourself.’
‘Oh,’ Derek’s grin was feral as he reached down to thumb open Stiles’ jeans, ‘you haven’t seen good yet. Turn around.’ Stiles leant in to land a soft peck on his lips before obeying, turning to brace his hand on the table. Derek took to opportunity to toe off his own shoes and socks, kicking his slacks away into some dark corner. Then he reached out to slowly, gently pull down Stiles jeans and underwear, just far enough to reveal the smooth, pale skin of his ass. Derek took a moment to stare.
Derek was an ass guy. Always had been. Nothing got him going from zero-to-sixty faster than a firm, toned ass, and Stiles did not disappoint. Derek reached out, smoothing his hands over the cheeks. There was a dark mole on the left cheek, a start contrast to the smooth, pale skin. He slipped his thumbs into the cleft, pulling the cheeks apart to look his fill. The alabaster skin became dusky around Stiles’ hole, and it twitched eagerly when he skimmed a finger across it. He was distantly aware of Stiles moaning, but right now he had tunnel vision.
‘I’m going to eat you out,’ he stated, pausing long enough for Stiles to object if he wanted to. He didn’t. Instead, he leaned forward, pushing his ass out even further, and Derek’s dick twitched. ‘Yeah,’ he breathed, lowering himself to knees and tugging Stile’s jeans down as he went. He leaned forward, pressed his mouth between Stiles’ cheeks, and then he was lost.
He groaned wantonly, eyes rolling back into his head as he had his first taste. He wasted no time on teasing; his tongue first licking broad strokes across Stiles’ hole, then circling around it with the tip, alternating pressure while his palmed the ass cheeks in his hands. He was aware enough to hear Stiles babbling above him, catching snatches of words like yes, fuck, eat me, don’t stop, but he was adrift in his own pleasure, too far gone to respond.
At length, he lined one finger up with Stiles’ hole, pushing gently, testing the resistance. It gave way surprisingly easily, Derek’s finger slipping into the first knuckle. He smirked at the sight, nipping at Stiles’ left ass cheek before saying, ‘if I didn’t know better I’d say you were expecting this. All ready for me, huh Stiles?’
‘Doesn’t hurt to be prepared,’ Stiles’ voice was teasing but breathy as he rocked back on to Derek’s finger.
Derek couldn’t agree more, pushing a second finger in alongside the first and gently scissoring them. ‘Lube?’
‘Bottom drawer,’ Stiles gestured – more flailed, really – towards a set of drawers by the bed. Derek resultantly pulled his fingers loose and strode over to the drawers, his cock bouncing lightly with each step. The bottom drawer was filled with socks, underwear and – stuffed down the back – a small bottle of lube and a strip of condoms. He tore off a condom, grabbed the lube and returned to where Stiles was bent over the table, eyes hazy with lust as he watched Derek approach. ‘You look good in my apartment,’ he murmured.
Derek smiled, leaning in for soft, lingering kiss. ‘You look good bent over a table with your ass in the air,’ he breathed against Stiles’ lips before returning to his position behind him. Derek tapped his foot between Stiles’. ‘Wider.’ Stiles tried to obey, but his jeans were in the way. Derek crouched down, pulling off Stiles' shoes and socks and then slipping off his jeans. He ran his hands along Stiles’ milky inner thighs as he stood, and Stiles obediently spread his legs.
‘Can’t wait to get inside you,’ Derek said lowly as he drizzled lube down Stiles’ crack, reaching forward to massage it into his hole. Stiles’ only response was a long groan. Derek smiled. Leaning forward he began to plant soft, sloppy kisses long Stiles’ back, rolling his own hips until his dick slipped into the now wet cleft between Stiles’ cheeks. ‘God, you’re gorgeous,’ he breathed. Reaching down to grasp his own cock, he teased the head against Stile’s hole. ‘You ready for me?’
Stiles said something that sounded like ‘born ready’, but it was muffled against his forearm. Ripping open the condom wrapper with his teeth, Derek pulled it out and rolled it on smoothly. He took a moment to admire the view; Stiles bent over the table, his long, lean back stretched out, headful of dark hair hanging low, legs spread and ass jutting out just begging to be taken. So Derek took it.
He pushed in slowly, cautiously, but Stiles opened up beneath him as easily as a knife through butter. Derek had a sudden thought, an image of Stiles strewn out on the bed across the room, one hand fisting his own cock while the other was buried in his ass, three fingers pumping smoothly, stretching him out. Derek squeezed the base of his cock, banishing the image before it became his undoing.
He bottomed out inside Stiles, biting back a groan. Stiles’ body was tense, shuddering, as he panted out harsh breaths. Derek was just about to ask if he was okay when Stiles began to move; slow, deliberate rocking, thrusting himself back onto Derek’s cock and then sliding forward until it was barely inside. Derek’s mouth went dry. He placed his hands on Stiles’ hips, not gripping, just resting. 'Fuck yourself on me,' he ordered. Stiles moaned, high and reedy, but immediately obeyed. He picked up speed, bracing himself on his forearms as he thrust back faster and faster, his balls jostling against Derek’s.
Derek leaned forward and let his hands roam, smoothing and squeezing and scratching as Stiles worked him over. ‘You feel so good around my cock,’ he whispered into Stiles’ ear, more breath than sound, and Stiles frantically doubled his efforts, pushing back harder and harder like he just couldn’t get close enough, take Derek deep enough.
‘Touch me,’ Stiles begged, tipping his head back.
‘I am touching you,’ Derek taunted, his fingers teasing Stiles’ nipples.
‘Touch my cock, Derek, please, I need,’
But that was good enough for Derek. Leaving one hand to work on Stiles’ nipples, he slid the other down, down, through the little thatch of hair at Stiles’ navel and beyond, until it was wrapped around his throbbing, neglected cock. ‘Is this what you want? Want me to jerk you while you fuck me?’
Stiles nodded soundlessly, mouth slack and glistening.
Derek obliged, matching his strokes to Stiles’ thrusts at first, then slowing and speeding up, making Stiles groan in frustration and arousal. ‘I’m close,’ He murmured, ‘Derek, don’t stop.’
Derek reached forward to yank Stiles up, his back flush against Derek’s chest. He began to stroke his cock in earnest, holding him still as he fucked up into him. ‘You gonna come for me, Stiles? Gonna come with my cock in your ass?’ He was practically growling and Stiles seemed to love it, face contorted in ecstasy, mouth moving wordlessly. ‘Come on, Stiles, come on.’
Stiles let go with a cry, arching his back and impaling himself on Derek as he shot his load across the table. The last few spurts ran down his shaft and over Derek’s hand as he stroked him slowly, bringing him down. ‘That’s right, that’s right, I’ve got you.’ He mouthed kisses across Stiles’ shoulders, at the nape of his neck, behind his ear. Stiles began to go lax in his arms until Derek was the only thing holding him up.
‘Oh my god,’ the words came out garbled as Stiles leaned back into Derek, tilting his head back, ‘that was incredible.’
‘It’s not over yet,’ Derek reminded him, rolling his hips, and Stiles shuddered.
‘Well, what are you waiting for?’ Stiles turned his head so he was whispering right into Derek’s ear. ‘Fuck me.’
Bracing one hand on Stiles’ hip, Derek bent him over so he was sprawled on the table. He locked his hands around Stiles’ waist, holding tight as he withdrew until only the head of his cock was still inside. He paused a moment, savouring the sensation, before slamming back in with one smooth thrust. He was liberated by the knowledge that Stiles had already come, and began furiously chasing his own release.
He pounded into Stiles mercilessly, moving his hands down to hold open those pale ass cheeks so he could watch his cock breach Stiles’ hole again and again and again.
Having come down from his orgasm, Stiles went limp, allowing Derek to fuck into him with abandon while he muttered filthy encouragements. ‘God, yes, Derek, you feel so fucking good. Fuck me, harder, holy fuck, god, yes, fill me up.’ His hands gripped the far edge of the table, grounding him against the brutal thrusts.
‘Love fucking your ass,’ Derek began his own obscene litany as he worked into Stiles. ‘Feels so good around my cock, fuck, you take it so well.’
‘Gonna come in my ass?’ Derek shuddered at the white-hot fire the words kindled inside him. ‘Come on Derek, your turn. Come for me.’
Derek clutched at the spurs of Stiles’ hips, driving in harder and harder as he felt his orgasm approaching. Everything faded to white noise as he slammed in once, twice, a third time, grinding against Stiles’ pert ass as he emptied himself into the condom. He fell forward once he was spent, his sweaty chest sticking to Stiles’ back as he waited to regain his breath, strength, brain function.
After a time, he felt Stiles shift underneath him. ‘Are you dead?’
‘Maybe,’ Derek’s reply was muffled in the nape of Stiles’ neck.
Stiles laughed, and it made his ass flutter around Derek’s cock. Derek hissed, too sensitive, and reached down to hold the base of the condom as he pulled out. He took a moment to appreciate the sight of Stiles’ gaping hole before he stepped away. ‘Trash?’ He asked, removing and tying off the condom.
‘Kitchen,’ Stiles gestured as he stood on wobbly legs.
Derek disposed of the condom and turned to see Stiles making his slow, shaky way toward the bed. He hesitated, suddenly feeling incredibly vulnerable. Being naked in a stranger’s apartment will do that, he supposed. What was the etiquette here? Usually his one-night stands were cut and dry, but this felt different. He was in this guy’s home, for one, not some by-the-hour dive or a public bathroom. He glanced over at where his clothes were piled, considered just getting dressed and saying his awkward goodbyes, when Stiles spoke.
‘Hurry up,’ he called out, his voice sure and demanding. So Derek did. He slid beneath the blankets, suddenly bone-weary, and had barely settled when Stiles was on him, curling around his side and tucking his head beneath Derek’s chin. ‘Night,’ he mumbled into Derek’s collarbone.
Derek was asleep before he could reply.
*
When Derek woke up, Stiles was fully dressed, sitting on the edge of the bed and pulling on a pair of plain black shoes. He was back in his work clothes, black jeans and a tee, and his hair was wet from the shower. He looked over when Derek stirred, and smiled brightly. ‘Morning sunshine.’
‘Hey,’ Derek replied, his voice hoarse with sleep. ‘You’re working?’
‘Yeah,’ Stiles nodded as he finished tying his laces with a flourish. ‘Gotta open up for breakfast. We do a mean fry up if you were thinking of hanging around?’ Derek thought he sounded hopeful.
‘Open for breakfast?’ He looked around the apartment, seeing more clearly without the fog of lust. ‘Do you own this place?’
‘Sure do,’ Stiles smiled reclining back onto the bed, braced on one elbow. ‘Well, jointly. My partner takes care of the books and I run the bar. She has a much better head for all that,’ he waved his hand in an encompassing gesture, ‘stuff.’
‘How old are you?’ Derek asked, curious.
‘Twenty four.’
Derek raised his eyebrows. ‘Impressive.’
‘Almost as impressive as your deflection.’ Derek grimaced guiltily, but Stiles just laughed. ‘No pressure, okay? But feel free to stick around for breakfast. On the house. And,’ he paused, dropping his eyes, ‘I’d be cool with doing that again sometime. Only maybe with dinner too, or something? Just putting it out there.’
‘Okay,’ Derek said dumbly, his eyes on the flush rising in Stiles’ cheeks.
Stiles squinted at him. ‘Okay is kind of a vague answer; is that ‘okay I hear you’ or ‘okay I’d also like to-‘’
Derek kissed him, sliding a hand into his damp hair to tilt his head just so. He slipped in the barest hint of tongue before pulling away. ‘I’ll see you at breakfast.’
Stiles smiled, a little dazed but bright. ‘Okay.’