Black Couch by Stiles_Hale_38
Everyone has something, that one little thing, that they keep in their spank bank. Maybe it's from an actual drunken hookup, or a specific fantasy about someone in a particularly scandalous outfit, but you know the one. The one that no matter how much porn you watch, how many people you kiss, that memory or fantasy is what can get you hard like nothing else can.
For Stiles, a now twenty-two year old adult male, that memory came from when he was sixteen years old, the prime time for horny-ness. Amidst the usual high school hormones, teenage angst, and school misery that was a typical sixteen year olds experience, Stiles also had werewolves to deal with. Particularly his best friend Scott, who he considered Werewolf #1 and even got him a mug to prove it. Along with werewolves came a whole bunch of other shit, but more importantly, most importantly, came the memory. Which all stemmed from werewolf #2, Derek Hale.
If Stiles is being completely honest, he absolutely had jacked off thinking about their first encounter in the woods. Nothing particularly sexy happened, but Derek was there existing, dark brows furrowed and mouth down turned and that was enough.
But, this was not the memory, the golden ticket, the what's behind that curtain, the thing that caused perhaps the biggest climax Stiles has ever had from his own hand so many years ago.
It was a hot summer day and Stiles was naturally reclined on a black sofa that was far too comfortable to be owned by such a rigid man like Derek Hale. Stiles was immensely thankful that the material was not leather as he sat in his too sweaty t-shirt fingering the pages of a book so covered in dust Stiles began tracking on a sticky note how often he would sneeze. Scott had gotten the book from someone Argent knew and passed it along to Stiles, who handled the brains of the operations, while Scott handled. . . well Stiles wasn't sure. It certainly wasn't the brunt work, that was for damn sure.
Regardless, Stiles was sitting, coffee in hand, squinting down at the pages and trying to decipher the text full of old hieroglyphics and drawings written presumably hundreds of years ago. Chewing on the pen stuck in his mouth, Stiles was enjoying the peace and quiet when he barged in, looking around frantically. Typically Derek preferred to slink around and startle Stiles with his sudden appearance, remaining quiet until the hair on Stiles' neck stood up, but today something was different. The door rattled as Derek slammed it open and shut quickly, stalking in.
Naturally, Stiles was startled so badly that he gasped violently and began to choke on his pen, hand on his heart. Derek didn't appear concerned, but what he did appear was angry. So very angry.
Stiles grew still once he caught his breath, blinking the tears away as he stared at Derek, who was breathing raggedly and in what Stiles liked to call "half-fang mode." The part of the transition in which a were's eyes were colored and their fangs were elongated, but they didn't lose their eyebrows or have an excess of body hair accumulating on their forehead.
Derek's eyes were glowing a bright blue and his open mouth exposed his sharp white fangs scraping against his bottom lip. He still had eyebrows, which were pinched low. A glance towards his hands revealed that his claws were out too.
"Uh. . . hey Derek?" It sounded more like a question coming out. Okay, it should be noted here, that Stiles was in fact not invited to Derek's loft. And it wasn't that he was here all the time, it's just that a few weeks ago some shit went down and Derek's place felt. . . well, safe and quiet really. Derek hadn't really seemed to notice, or if he did, he didn't say anything. Stiles always made sure to clear out before Derek came home, and though he didn't know Derek's schedule, he felt that leaving before dinner time was always best and it had worked out for the past few weeks or so.
Stiles broke Derek's icy stare to look at the clock on the TV he had let sit idle, revealing it was close to 7:00 P.M. Oops.
So Stiles had overstayed his welcome, but surely this reaction was a touch dramatic?
Rather than waiting for the inevitable, that is, being shoved against a wall, Stiles began to pick up his things, shoving the large book into his too-worn backpack.
"I'll just uh, ahem, be going then." Stiles said, standing up. Derek hadn't moved.
It occurred to Stiles only at that moment that perhaps he and Derek were in some sort of danger. He looked the male up and down for any signs of damage, but found none. Just as he was making his way back to Derek's face, the man let out a low growl.
"Right, sorry, uh, I'm leaving." Stiles began to walk towards the door, which Derek was standing directly in front of, whilst staring at the floor. Soon his gaze met Derek's feet, which were clad in some nice boots, he noted.
Stiles looked up to reveal how close he truly was to Derek, mere inches. His breath caught and his gaze dipped down towards Derek's mouth without him meaning to. He was just looking at the fangs, or so he told himself in the moment. But he wasn't just looking at the fangs, he was looking at how they scraped Derek's pink bottom lip. How soft his lips looked, how they might fit perfectly with his.
Quickly Stiles tore his gaze away, looking at the door behind Derek. The man refused to move and let out another low growl. Stiles hadn't exactly seen him like this before. Angry? Sure, of course. Half-fanged out? All the time. Generally pissed off for no goddamn reason other than the fact that he was a sulky little werebaby? Yes, naturally. But Derek wasn't moving, wasn't speaking, was completely still.
"Dude, did you like, get swiped by a kanama or something?" Stiles asked with a nervous chuckle and a smile on his lips. Derek didn't say anything and looked down to Stiles' smile. It quickly dropped.
"Um. . ." Stiles licked his lips nervously. Why wouldn't Derek move? Why was he invading his space and more importantly, why was he okay with that?
"Are you. . . are you okay?" Stiles asked quietly. He thought maybe his quick inspection for blood was futile. Something was going on, clearly.
Derek opened his mouth slightly wider and finally spoke.
". . . Yes?" Stiles cocked his head slightly.
"I'm horny." Derek grit out.
.............................................................................................................................
pixelskylines
annaxmalina
blakekathryn
jacobvanloon
kaledo-art
snowghoul
gummygunk
dededos
