Stiles stroked the top of Derek’s head as he stirred.
“Good morning, sleepy head,” Stiles cooed as Derek scrunched his eyes up before burying his face back in Stiles’ lap.
“Timesit,” Derek mumbled, too sleep-heavy to form the statement into a proper question.
Stiles continued to run his fingers through Derek’s hair. “It’s like, five something, maybe six. Or seven. Who cares,” he finished with a hand gesture that said as much.
Derek let out an unhappy moan, tucking his head under Stiles’ shirt. “’Stoo bright turn off th’light,” he whined.
Stiles had to bite his lip to keep from laughing; he didn’t want to shake Derek too much and have him go all alpha-badass-werewolf-attack-mode, especially while his teeth are in such close proximity to precious appendages. “Um, Der’. There aren’t any lights on buddy,” Stiles said, looking down into his henley through the top.
Derek groaned again, this time with his mouth pressed against Stiles’ hip bone and oh god that tickles and feels like heaven and fuuuuuck man.
Stiles won’t be able to hold back what is sure to be a cacophony of laughter much longer. Choking back his giggles, he struggles to say “Cut it out, Derek! That shit tickles, man!”
Stiles felt Derek’s mouth curve upward as he pressed his lips against Stiles’ hips. Kissing his way up Stiles’ torso, pausing over his nipples to tease a bit with his teeth, Derek slowly extracted himself from Stiles’ shirt. Eyes glazed over with sleep, Derek smiled a silly smile and leaned in to place a kiss on Stiles’ mouth.
It lasted only a few seconds before Derek mumbled a “nighty night,” and collapsed straight back down onto his pillow of Stiles’ lap.
So, this came about one night when I was dropping porny ideas in grimm's ask. I made the joke about porn spamming her ask, and when she seemed okay with the idea, the idea for this fic took up in my brain. It was going to be just a short PWP and somehow ended up being over 4,000 words of fluff and porn mixed with the tiniest bit of angst. So, here you are, my darling, I do hope you enjoy!
Thanks to Sam for the fast read-over and beta, even though she has been sick. Any mistakes are mine, made in editing since I kind of tend to not leave well enough alone...
He who has regrets cannot look at himself in the mirror. - Eric Cantona
Derek hated mirrors.
More specifically, he hated seeing himself in mirrors. For years it was because of the treacherous blue eyes that stared back at him, reminding him of the last pained, trembling breaths of the girl he loved, and how they stuttered to a final stop. Trying to lose himself in a meaningless sexual relationship with an older woman had cost him nearly everything, and all that time, his eyes glowed that cold blue, mocking his weakness.
More recently it was the fiery red glaring back at him that he hated-the red he never wanted, had never been intended to have. It was the symbol of power gained by more death. It was always death.
He gave up his Alpha status with no regrets in order to save the younger sister he'd thought was dead for so long, but even having his eyes return to the familiar blue didn't make gazing on his reflection any easier.
Derek knew what he looked like, what face he presented to the world. He'd seen the lust burning in the depths of Kate's eyes and mistaken it for love. He'd been aware of all the lingering stares from men and women alike when he was in New York, had tried to lose himself in many of them, just for a short time. It had come as no surprise to him for Jennifer to compliment his physique even as he lay bleeding in his loft. But nothing had ever filled the empty self loathing, and although things were a little different now, he still rarely gave himself more than a perfunctory glimpse to ensure his finger-styled hair passed quick inspection before leaving home.
Of course Stiles was the one to notice Derek's mirror aversion and figure it out. He had that knack for being the first to put two and two together. He always seemed to know Derek in ways that Derek didn't even know himself, even back when they were reluctant allies who could barely stand being in each other's presence.
He hadn't been able to stay away from Beacon Hills for long. He and Cora had taken an extended road trip for a time, just aimlessly traveling for several months, and finally ended up staying for a while with the friendly pack that had taken her in after the fire. Cora had been ecstatic to be among her friends again and had decided to return to them. Derek had considered staying, himself. They were willing to have him, had been more than welcoming, but when it came down to agreeing and becoming pack, Derek found he couldn't do it. He could feel the overwhelming need to return, though he wasn't sure of what his reception would be. After they left Beacon Hills, he had ignored calls and deleted texts from both Scott and Stiles without answering them, despite Cora's arguments. After a short time Scott stopped trying to contact him, but Stiles had been more persistent, at least for a while. When the texts became few and far in between before stopping altogether, Derek had scolded himself for feeling bereft, trying to convince himself that was what he wanted. It had been a losing battle. When he decided to go back, Cora had given him a sad but knowing smile and ordered him to stay in touch with her.
"I don't want to lose you again, but I know why you're going back. I just hope it's worth it, that he's worth it. You know where I am now if you need me." She had hugged him tightly.
"I just hope he'll forgive me. If he doesn't, I may be back," Derek had joked feebly.
Cora had given him a look far too knowing for her young years. "He will. It may take a while, but he will. Keep me posted, okay?"
They had both been right. Stiles had been totally worth it. They hadn't gotten together right away. In fact, Stiles had been royally pissed at Derek, for leaving in the first place, for ignoring all his calls and texts, and for staying gone for so long without any word. Derek couldn't really blame him. It had simmered between them, unspoken, for weeks. Things had boiled to the surface one night when Derek had let himself into Stiles' room through the window and ended up losing his cool with Stiles after finding him cleaning cuts and bruises from yet another near-miss while fighting off the latest supernatural threat alongside Scott.
"You should have called me!" Derek snarled.
Stiles snorted in derision. "Called you, sure. And would you have answered? Or would you have ignored me again?"
Derek fought off a hot wave of guilt. "I wouldn't have ignored you. What is Scott thinking, letting you get involved like this? You don't heal like he does! You never think these things through, just rush in with no thought to your safety, Stiles!"
"What the fuck are you yelling at me for? You know these are far from being the first battle wounds I've gotten in the line of fire! Not like you care anyway!" Stiles snapped.
Derek stared at him incredulously. "Are you kidding me? Of course I care, I always have! What the hell makes you think I don't?"
"Oh, I don't know, maybe it's the fact that you walked away. Even after everything that happened, you just disappeared without a word. And you were gone for months. Months, Derek, and you couldn't even answer your fucking phone or text that you were okay? You didn't even tell us you were leaving!" Anger and hurt warred over Stiles' features.
"I had to, don't you understand that?" Derek demanded in frustration.
"You had to leave without even saying goodbye?" sneered Stiles.
Derek had growled in pure frustration. "You don't get it, do you? If I had tried to say goodbye to you I never could have gone. I would have backed out."
Stiles had stared at him for a moment, then narrowed his eyes. "Why?"
Derek opened his mouth to say something and hesitated. In the next moment he found himself with a lapful of Stiles.
"Is this okay? Please tell me this is okay," whispered Stiles as he framed Derek's face with his hands. When Derek nodded breathlessly, Stiles had pressed their lips together in a fierce kiss that had quickly grown in hunger and intensity. In short order they were falling back on the bed, groping and removing clothing with fumbling hands, and when Stiles went down on him while working two fingers in and out of his ass, Derek came hard enough to see stars. When he woke up the next morning in Stiles' bed with Stiles pressed against his back with one arm wrapped around him, holding him close even in sleep, Derek had felt a warm contentment that had been missing from his life for a very long time.
Stiles was actually his perfect match. Just being in his presence was like a breath of fresh air to Derek, and even when they argued, making up afterward was the best part. It was like coming home every time. Stiles was able to look at Derek and see past the outer shell straight to the very core of him. He could keep Derek from getting too serious, knew just how to tease him out of his bad moods. Passionate about everything, whether it was researching the latest threat to Beacon Hills or riding Derek's cock, he threw himself into whatever he was doing with incredible enthusiasm.
So it didn't come as a complete surprise for Derek to walk into his bedroom to discover that Stiles had rearranged his bedroom furniture while he was out, and the large dresser and mirror now sat across from the bed and had it in plain view. What was the surprise was seeing the reflection of Stiles already stretched across the bed, completely nude and stroking himself languidly.
"What are you doing?" Derek asked, coming to a halt just inside the door. "And what have you done to my room?"
Stiles smirks, fully aware of the picture he was presenting and that Derek's eyes were focused on his hand in the mirror as it moved up and down his hardening cock. He gave himself a squeeze, grunting softly in pleasure before answering. "What's it look like I'm doing? I'm laying naked on your bed jerking off while you stand there fully clothed and question my decorating skill. One of us needs to check their priorities, is all I'm saying."
"But why did you move the furniture? There was nothing wrong with how I had it," Derek argued weakly, unable to tear his eyes away from the mirror as Stiles moved his hand lower to cup and fondle his balls before sliding back up to fist his cock again.
Stiles rolled his eyes and stopped stroking himself to kneel up near the edge of bed. He crooked his finger at Derek, beckoning him forward. Derek padded across the room, unable as always to resist him. When Stiles held out a hand, Derek took it without hesitation.
"You never look in the mirror," Stiles said softly, stroking the back of Derek's hand with his thumb.
Derek blinked at him in confusion. "What?"
Stiles squeezed the hand he held and gestured to the mirror with his other hand. "You don't ever look in the mirror, not for very long, anyway. Not even when you brush your teeth or wash your hands. It's like you avoid your own reflection, and I don't understand why. I know why, but I don't understand. I want to show you what I see." He let go of Derek's hand to turn him towards the mirror. Derek immediately dropped his eyes to the floor.
"No," Stiles protested, immediately shifting forward to press up against Derek's back. He lifted Derek's chin with one hand and pressed a kiss to his temple. "Open your eyes. Look at us, Derek." He rubbed his other hand down over Derek's stomach to stroke at his cock through his jeans. "I want you to watch how fucking hot we look together." His voice was low, fingers brushing teasingly over the hardening bulge before giving it a squeeze.
Derek could feel the heat from Stiles' bare skin, even through the thin cotton of his t-shirt. He moaned softly and lifted his chin slightly but kept his eyes closed, still not wanting to look, even though Stiles made it sound so hot.
"No, no, look," Stiles protested, and Derek opened his eyes. "Watch. Keep your eyes open."
As Derek reluctantly looked in the mirror, Stiles tilted his head to one side to mouth hotly at his neck. He shivered as Stiles licked slowly down his neck and pushed aside the cotton of his t-shirt to nip at his shoulder.
"Look, Derek," Stiles said. His eyes are focused on their reflection as he tugs Derek's t-shirt out of his jeans. "Just look at how sexy you are."
Derek stared at himself in the mirror. His eyes glowed bright blue and he quickly looked away.
"Don't do that," Stiles said as he tugged Derek's shirt over his head and tossed it on the floor. "Don't think about what you don't like about yourself. God, you're perfect."
Derek snorted as Stiles climbed off the bed to stand by him. "Believe me, I am far from perfect."
Stiles made an indignant noise. "Are you saying I'm wrong? Calling me a liar?" he murmured as he gave one of Derek's nipples a quick pinch, causing his eyes to fly open wide as the resulting tingling sensation raced down his spine like an electric current.
"No, of course not," gasped Derek, gaze fixated on their reflection.
Stiles smiled approvingly as he dropped to his knees and made quick work of loosening Derek's belt, popping the button free and pulling the zipper down to tug his jeans and briefs down around his thighs, allowing his hard cock to pop free. "Good. Keep those electric blues open, baby. Watch."
It takes Derek a moment to realize Stiles means he wants him to watch them, to look in the mirror while Stiles-
"Oh, fuck," groaned Derek as hot, moist heat surrounded the head of his dick. He watched the mirror in rapt fascination as Stiles began to move his head back and forth, working Derek's cock over with the perfect kind of sweet expertise gained with much practice. Derek was panting and starting to sweat, and every time Stiles licks up the side of his cock he thrusts his hips forward eagerly, seeking more of that talented mouth. He looked down, enthralled with watching his spit-slicked cock moving in and out of those plush, pink lips. A small noise of protest escaped him when Stiles stopped, releasing him with an audible pop.
"Watch us, Derek," Stiles demanded, his voice a bit hoarse from his ministrations. Derek quickly looked up, returning his eyes to the mirror and being rewarded with the return of Stiles' mouth on his cock. It seemed surreal to watch Stiles do this to him, but also mind-blowingly hot. His balls felt heavy and tight as the urge to come swept over him in a wave of heated sensation. He put his hands on Stiles' head, curling his fingers into his hair and giving a little tug to warn him.
"Not gonna last much longer, Stiles," Derek whispered, groaning loudly when Stiles licked up his cock one more time before releasing him. Licking his lips, Stiles quickly got to his feet. He pressed his lips fiercely against Derek's, nipping at his lower lip and encouraging Derek to open his mouth for him. When Derek parted his lips, Stiles slid his tongue forward to explore his mouth thoroughly. Derek tasted the salty bitterness lingering on Stiles' tongue and shivered, knowing he was tasting himself. Stiles took one of Derek's hands and placed it on his throbbing hard on.
"This is what you do to me," Stiles said. "God, you make me so hard." His words fall off into a loud groan as Derek tightens his hand into a fist and begins jerking Stiles slowly, knowing just how to drive him to the brink of madness with his touch. Stiles tilted his head back, exposing his throat trustingly, and Derek struggled to catch his breath. He is so incredibly in love with this man, and it is completely and utterly terrifying. One day he will be able to tell him. Soon.
"Wanna fuck you," Stiles panted, eyes dilating as he raised his head back up. He put his hands on Derek's shoulders and curled his hands into the tight muscles there. "Let me fuck you, Der."
"God, yeah, okay," Derek agreed breathlessly. He quickly shoved his jeans the rest of the way down his legs and kicked himself free of them as Stiles clambered back onto the bed, pulling the covers down and tossing them aside.
Stiles opened the nightstand drawer and pulled out a bottle of lube. He tossed it on the bed and grabbed the pillows to create a big pile. He settled back against them and gave Derek a grin. "Well?"
Derek crawled up on the bed to join him. When he got close, Stiles pulled him on top of him so that Derek's thighs were spread on the outside of his knees.
"Perfect. Now we get to enjoy the show," Stiles said, admiring their reflection as he grabbed the bottle of lube and popped it open. He poured some into his hand and slicked his fingers up, warming it as he did so. The scent of strawberries tickled at Derek's nose and he raised an eyebrow at Stiles.
"Flavored lube?" Derek asked.
"Shut up. You'll like this," Stiles assured him with a grin.
Stiles reached around, sliding his fingers gently between the round cheeks of Derek's ass, circling his fingers around Derek's tight hole, slicking it before slowly pressing a finger in. He worked his finger in deep, moving it slowly in and out, and found himself transfixed on the mirror, unable take his eyes from where he's disappearing inside Derek's body. They fit together so well, Derek's legs spread wide and Stiles working him open slowly.
Derek was biting his lip and writhing against Stiles. He felt the sting of a second finger being pushed in next to the first and gave a low hiss. The discomfort and stretch was short lived, though, and before long he was pushing down against Stiles' hand. He whined low in his throat at the full feeling when Stiles added a third finger.
"Jesus," Stiles whispered reverently. "Just fucking look at you, Derek." Derek whined again, a little more urgent this time as Stiles worked his fingers in harder, twisting slightly and then pulling them out just to see Derek react. "Come on, Derek, look. Please."
Derek twisted slightly to do as Stiles asked. When he caught sight of them, of himself, legs spread, exposed and vulnerable, he groaned loudly. Stiles twisted his fingers again, and Derek shuddered, head dropping and knees sliding further apart, widening his legs ever so slightly.
Stiles made a low growl of approval. "Yeah, that's it, look at that, baby. Look how good you look with my fingers inside you. Just think how good you'll look taking my cock." He slid his free hand around to cup one of Derek's ass cheeks, pulling them apart a little more so they can watch Stiles' fingers sliding slickly in and out of Derek's stretched hole.
"I'm ready, Stiles," Derek panted, moaning as Stiles crooked a finger to tease maddeningly over that perfect spot. "Need you, need you to fuck me now."
"Not just yet." Stiles pulled his fingers out of Derek's ass and smirked when Derek groaned in protest at the resulting emptiness. He took Derek gently by the hips and maneuvered him off of his lap, turning him around so that he faced the mirror. Stiles knelt behind him, golden eyes smoldering with heat as they watched themselves. He reached down to take Derek's cock in his lube slicked hand and began jerking him slowly. "Look at us. See how hot we are?"
"God, Stiles," Derek choked out, thrusting his hips in time with Stiles' hand on his cock.
Stiles leaned down to trace his tongue over the triskelion tattoo that adorned Derek's back, obviously savoring the tangy taste of sweat covering Derek's heated skin. He pressed his lips there is a kiss before placing his hand gently between Derek's shoulders and pushing him forward. "Hands and knees, Der. Keep those eyes on that mirror."
Derek fell forward and braced himself on his hands. He felt incredibly vulnerable and exposed like this, knowing Stiles could see how open and ready he was. A low whimper escaped him.
"Shhhh, it's okay, I've got you," Stiles crooned as he ran a finger lightly down the curve of Derek's spine, all the way down until he was tracing his slick fingers around the rim of his stretched hole and pushing his fingers in again. He leaned down to press a kiss to each of the dimples at the base of Derek's back and then moved down further. "Mirror, Der," was all the warning he gave Derek.
Derek's eyes widened as he felt Stiles pull his fingers out of his ass, only to replace them with his tongue. He kept his eyes on his wrecked reflection, feeing the sting of his fangs elongating as his eyes glowed a brighter blue. A guttural, animal sound escaped his throat as he felt the velvety wet softness of Stiles' tongue lick a wide strip between his ass cheeks, teasing at his hole before hardening it to a point and sliding it inside him. Stiles' long fingers pulled his cheeks apart and his tongue worked itself in impossibly deeper, licking at him in the most intimate way until Derek was babbling incoherently, nearly sobbing with the overwhelming sensations racing over his skin like a hundred thousand pricks of electricity. When he came, cock untouched and moaning obscenely loud in the quietness of his apartment, Stiles' hands were stroking his thighs reassuringly. Stiles never stopped moving his tongue, working Derek through his orgasm, dropping lower to suck teasingly at his balls before licking his way back up to continue stroking him open with his mouth.
"Christ," Derek managed to get out. He felt the warm exhale of breath against his sensitive skin as Stiles huffed a low laugh.
"Told you strawberry lube was gonna be a thing of beauty. Still watching the mirror, right?" Stiles asked as he straightened up behind Derek to look at them. His whiskey eyes sparkled, his hair was mussed from Derek's hands earlier, and his mouth and chin glistened with spit and lube.
It was one of the sexiest things Derek had ever seen in his entire life. He felt his spent cock twitch with renewed interest. "I'm watching," he answered in a hoarse voice, catching Stiles' eyes in their reflection.
Stiles grinned in satisfaction. "Good," he said as he slicked his cock with more lube. "That's good because I want you to watch while I fuck you. Do you want me to fuck you, Derek? Are you ready for my cock?"
"God, yes, come on," Derek groaned.
Stiles pulled Derek towards him to get him positioned, gripping his hard cock at the base and circling the head of it around the slickly stretched rim before slowly pushing forward. Impatient with all of Stiles' teasing, Derek pushed back against him. They both gasped simultaneously as the head slid inside.
"Fuck, Derek," Stiles gritted out, his breath catching as Derek felt his body stretching around Stiles, slowly accommodating his throbbing cock as he pressed deeper. Stiles stopped for a moment, seeming to hold himself back and trying not to thrust forward to bury himself deep and all at once. When it seemed he felt like he could control himself, he pushed again. "Are you okay? How do you feel?" he asked breathlessly, watching in the mirror as he sunk further into Derek, slowly, slowly until finally he was buried fully and deeply inside him.
"It's so good, oh fuck, so so good, baby," Derek gasped. He braced himself more firmly with his arms. "Move, Stiles, I need you to move."
"Yeah, okay, yeah," Stiles agreed. Their eyes met in the mirror and his hands latched tightly onto Derek's hips, fingers digging in as he began to move, making slow, shallow thrusts, relishing the tight heat surrounding him.
"Stiles," moaned Derek when Stiles pulled out almost completely and then finally gave a hard, deep thrust, burying himself completely inside once again.
"I think I could get used to hearing you say my name like that," Stiles breathed, watching the mirror in rapt fascination as Derek's face shifted again, becoming even more wolf-like as his control began to slip.
Derek growled in response. "Why don't you fuck me so that I don't even remember my own name?" he challenged, giving Stiles a toothy grin in the mirror.
"Oh, it is so on," Stiles ground out. He leaned forward and wrapped his arms around Derek's midsection, pulling him up until his back flush against him as he thrust deep, complying with Derek's demand. Derek groaned loudly and tossed his head back against Stiles' shoulder, hard cock bouncing with each movement.
"Touch yourself," Stiles ordered, continuing to thrust deep inside Derek while watching them in the mirror. "I want you to touch yourself and I want you to watch."
Derek took his aching cock in his hand, careful to mind the claws that had popped free. He was still slick from Stiles jerking him earlier, and his hand slid easily up and down as he did as he was told, eyes focused on the mirror. His brain sizzled as he took in the image of himself, fangs bared, eyes aglow, sweat running down his bare chest as he fucked into his own fist. Behind him, he could see Stiles watching them as well, moving behind him, in and out in a fast rhythm that was going to make him lose his mind.
"That's it," Stiles whispered encouragingly when Derek moaned loudly and dropped down to rest on his elbows, raising his ass higher and widening his thighs as he continued to stroke himself. He gripped Derek's hips again and began to move quicker, thrusting harder and deeper into his ass. Derek felt heat building up in him until it reached his core and gathered in his balls, causing them to tighten. He couldn't hold back any longer, giving a guttural shout and feeling himself clench hard around Stiles as he came again, hot stripes of come splashing across his stomach and fist. As he tried to catch his breath, he felt Stiles moving faster to catch up. Stiles looked nearly dizzy as pleasure rushed through him, a gorgeous pink flush moving down his entire body. A quick glance in the mirror showed Stiles watching him in rapt fascination, and Derek gave him a saucy wink and pursed his lips in a kissing motion. Stiles somehow managed to blow a kiss back before throwing his head back and groaning loudly as his release shook him hard enough to cause his toes to curl. He collapsed forward, panting hard and wrapping his arms around Derek, shifting so that they finally lay flat and pressed closely together.
Derek lay still, fangs and claws retracted and face back to normal, feeling blissfully fucked out and enjoying the weight of Stiles on his back. They were both gross, covered with sweat, come, and lube, and Derek could feel the warm sensation of Stiles' come trickling back out of his thoroughly used hole, but he didn't want to move, wasn't sure he could have moved for anything in the world. "Wow," he whispered after a time. "That was..."
Stiles lifted his head from Derek's shoulder and began pressing soft kisses to his neck before giving him a smug grin in the mirror. "Amazing? Hot? The best mirror sex to have ever existed in the history of mirror sex?"
Derek snorted and rolled his eyes. "You are such a dork," he said fondly as he leaned to press his lips against Stiles' in a hard kiss. "Come on, we need to throw these sheets in the wash and take a shower. If you're good maybe I'll suck you off in the shower. I think I owe you."
Stiles scrambled to his feet with a laugh, looking at Derek with eyes full of happiness and adoration, and maybe something more, something that made Derek catch his breath and a feeling of hope bloom in his chest. After they stripped the bed, they made their way to the bathroom for that much needed shower and Derek caught his reflection in the mirror once again. He was smiling and relaxed, eyes glowing blue, not with fear or anger, but utter contentment.
There's a boy in the woods and he's always there, rain or shine, day or night.
There's a creaking in the hall and a knocking on the door and no one is ever there.
Five people died in this house and Stiles Stilinski is not at all sure they're gone for good.
Here’s the thing. I don’t normally do fic recs, I could, I read tons and like to talk about them (seriously, I could write a freaking essay on (Sacred) In The Ordinary by Idyll and Will to Follow Through by owlpostagain)
But I read this today, in one sitting, at my kitchen table and loved it. There is something so beautiful about this story; it’s sad and lovely and felt like it came right out of fairy tale. There's is so much more, but I feel like the story stole all of my words. Read it, read the notes and the tags but do not be deterred. You will not regret it.
