for totallynotrobin

[sourgrowler]

He had broken into Stiles' house before, but he hadn't been preoccupied then with the connection that demanded they stay close together. It made sense for him to sneak in unseen through Stiles' window, while Stiles let himself in through the front. Stiles' age, and his connection to the local law enforcement via his sheriff father could cause some very uncomfortable problems if someone were to see the adult Hale kissing the breath out of him in the front yard. And, really, once he had started, it had taken every ounce of his willpower to stop.

It took him a minute to get the latch to the window to open, and then he slid inside and stripped off his jacket and his shoes. Stiles' scent was everywhere, permeating the air, the bed, the curtains. He breathed in deep through his nose, and waited, listening to Stiles move through the house.

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[totallynotrobin]

Stiles felt...whole. He'd been so hopeless this past month, drowning in apathy and unsure of how to fix whatever was wrong with him. But with Derek, it felt...okay. Like that missing piece had come back, or that it would come back. That it would get better.

He unlocked the door, lips still tingling from that last kiss, smile stretching across his face. That was definitely new. In his rational mind, Stiles recognized that this was probably wrong - it was definitely illegal, but...but it just felt so right. And he didn't have the motivation to stop.

So Stiles locked the door behind him and bounded up the stairs, opening his door. He smiled shyly at Derek, locking that behind him too - just in case his dad came home. "Sorry it's, uh...a bit of a mess."

[sourgrowler]

A month of feeling like he was drifting aimlessly through existence, and he finally found something that felt meaningful and correct. Derek didn't waste a second once the door to the bedroom was locked. He crossed to Stiles and pressed him back, pinning him to the door so he could kiss him. It was hungry, and passionate, and he groaned against the teenager's mouth.

"Don't care," he breathed against his lips. And he didn't. What did a messy bedroom matter when he had Stiles close, and pliant, and perfect?

[totallynotrobin]

Stiles groaned at the kiss, pressing against Derek's chest eagerly. He was a really good kisser, okay? Compared to Stiles' dead-fish technique, Derek was like...golden lips over here.

"God that feels..." Stiles vaguely hopes Scott isn't doing this with Deaton, kissing Derek back hungrily.

[sourgrowler]

If Scott was doing it with Deaton, that would at least explain why he had seemingly forgotten about Stiles and was spending so much time with him. Derek wouldn't be able to blame him, if it felt anything like with Stiles.

He broke off from Stiles' lips, pressing hungry kisses down his neck, and let his hands wander up under Stiles' shirt. He wanted to explore every inch of him; he wanted to see and taste his skin. Lick trails down his back, suck a hickie into his hip. The drive, the urge, was overwhelming.

[totallynotrobin]

That would be really creepy, though. Still, Stiles can't really focus on it right now with Derek right there, kissing down his neck...

"Mm...Derek..." Stiles breathed, cheeks flushing a pleasant red.

[sourgrowler]

Derek growled, low and pleased, one arm wrapping around Stiles' back to pull him away from the wall and toward the bed. When the backs of his legs hit the edge of the bed, he let himself fall back, pulling Stiles down with him.

"Tell me what you want," he demanded quietly, arching up to press kisses wherever he could reach.

[totallynotrobin]

"What I - oh - " Stiles shivers pleasantly at the kisses, snuggling down into Derek's chest. "I want - closer..."

[sourgrowler]

One of Derek's hands splays out under his t-shirt, across the small of Stiles' back, pulling him closer. He presses his lips to Stiles' neck, then replaces them with the gentle nip of teeth. He bites and sucks there until he's satisfied with the mark he's left.

"Shirt?" he asks, eyes hooded, lips damp, catching the hem of Stiles' shirt and tugging.

[totallynotrobin]

Stiles flushes pleasantly as Derek sucks a mark into his neck. God, that felt amazing.

"Yeah...I mean, there isn't much underneath there worth looking at, with me, but..."

[sourgrowler]

Derek gives Stiles an unhappy look, pulling his shirt off and letting himself take a moment to drink Stiles in. Pale skin. Little imperfections - beauty marks - that he wants to memorize. He laves at Stiles' collar bone, curling up off the bed to do so.

"You're perfect," he says, voice rough, then spends a beat leaving another hickie. He wants to mark every inch of him; where they'll be seen, and where they won't. Little, possessive tags on his skin.

[totallynotrobin]

Stiles flushes, something warm blooming in his chest at the praise. "Th-thanks, Derek..."

He groans, unable to help himself, at the marking, running his fingers through Derek's hair.

[sourgrowler]

Derek makes an encouraging noise, leaning into the fingers in his hair. He wants Stiles to touch him more. He wants him to feel free to take whatever he wants. He pulls back, taking care to make eye contact, and bares his neck. His wolf bays encouragingly, and he licks his lips.

[totallynotrobin]

Stiles' eyes widen and he nods, leaning forward eagerly to take his own turn at kissing and nipping Derek. Any marks he leaves will heal, he knows, but it's satisfying to see them stain Derek's skin, if only for a moment.

[sourgrowler]

Derek has a feeling the marks that Stiles leaves won't fade for quite some time. It's an instinctual knowledge, that any mark from Stiles will long lasting and meaningful. His lips part, and he lets out a low, pleased moan. His fingernails - blunt, still, human - press against the skin of Stiles' back, leaving red lines across when he drags them down.

Marking, claiming. Being marked, being claimed. His eyes flash red, and he pants.

[totallynotrobin]

Stiles makes a soft noise, shivering and biting down harder on Derek's shoulder, leaving a purpling trail of lovebites and hickies. "Mm..."