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Sterek for prompt 6!!!

6. secretly a virgin

YES. GREAT IDEA. SEXUALLY MATURE TORNADO OF BANGABILITY STILES WITH A TWIST. The twist being that he comes home from college for the summer wearing flattering cashmere sweaters and jeans that accentuate his ass, and one of the first things Scott says to him is, “Hey, dude, you finally figured out how to style your hair,” and Stiles kind of smiles all attractively, and Derek is like HOLD UP, when did Stiles start smiling attractively, and whoa, what’s that hip swaying thing, what is that, what is Stiles doing, why is he doing it, Jesus, when did his voice get this low and scratchy, when did he—

Did Stiles just. Wink? At him?

At Derek?

AND SO ON AND SO FORTH, you know the drill, Stiles oh-so-absent-mindedly fellates pens and drops things and bends over in Derek’s presence and casually talks to Scott about hooking up with guys in bathrooms, about things that make Derek’s ears burn, things that make him pretend to be extra special busy reading his book or whatever. (Things that make him feel all tense-yet-tingly, things he just can’t keep out of his thoughts while he gets off, in bed, at night, furtively, under the covers, quickly, just a little bit of lotion, no toys, no ass-play, as though all of this somehow makes up he fact that he’s jerking it to the thought of fucking Stiles. Stiles. STILES.)

Derek is having a crisis of epic proportions.

A few weeks in Stiles finally makes his first move, kisses Derek, crowds him back against a wall and kisses him confidently, one arm wound around Derek’s neck, other hand touching his face, sliding down, confidently, stroking the outline of Derek’s dick in his pants, still confidently.

BUT THEN they really get down to it, y’know, and Derek feels like he’s on the verge of exploding because 1) CONFLICTED FEELINGS and 2) all the sex stories he overheard Stiles telling Scott basically constituted a Guinness World record attempt at most drawn-out foreplay, as far as Derek is concerned, and 3) Stiles is naked in his apartment Stiles is naked in his apartment Stiles is naked in his apartment (and also, y’know, it’s been a while since the last time Braeden stopped by), and maybe he’s about to get one finger in when Stiles gasps, “Wait.”

So he waits.

“I’ve, uh,” Stiles says, and Derek can’t see his face from here but he can hear Stiles’ heart rate, like that of a rabbit. A scared rabbit. A very scared rabbit which Derek is about to eat. (He’s been having fun in his new wolf form, OBVIOUSLY.) So he backs off, immediately, and Stiles says, “never done this before,” in a SUPER DUPER QUIET VOICE that makes Derek’s chest ache.

So instead of something like “so that threesome with two frat boys, YOU MADE THAT UP? YOU MADE THAT UP TO MAKE ME FEEL EXTRA BAD ABOUT THE FACT THAT I WAS JERKING OFF TO THE THOUGHT OF YOU,” he says, “Why didn’t you say so?”

Stiles shifts onto his knees. “Um,” he says, face bright red. “I don’t— I don’t know, I thought.” He looks down. “I guess I thought it’d be easier this way.”

Confused, Derek says, “It?”

Stiles waves a hand around. “Yeah, this. This whole thing.”

Still confused, Derek says, “Sex?”

Stiles sighs. “Sex with you, I guess,” he says. “Yeah.” He lifts his hand as though to scratch his jaw, seems to remember at the last moment where that hand was a few minutes ago, then seems to think fuck it and scratches his jaw anyway.

“So basically,” Derek says, “this was your way of wooing me.”

“I guess,” Stiles says.

“You wooed me by making up stories about your incredible sex life at college and telling them to Scott when I was within earshot,” Derek says, “so I would take your virginity without knowing I was taking your virginity.”

Stiles winces. “Well, it doesn’t really make sense when you put it that—”

“Put on your pants,” Derek says, and Stiles’ eyes snap up to meet his. “I’m taking you out to dinner.”

(Also to buy condoms. And lube. Lots of lube.

Also scented candles.)

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