
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/1828579.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Teen_Wolf_(TV)
  Relationship:
      Derek_Hale/Stiles_Stilinski
  Character:
      Derek_Hale, Stiles_Stilinski
  Additional Tags:
      First_Time, Established_Relationship, Humor, Barebacking, Anal_Fingering,
      Anal_Sex, Fluff_and_Smut, Loss_of_Virginity, Topping_from_the_Bottom, Top
      Derek, Power_Bottom_Stiles, Derek_Hale_is_Bad_at_Feelings, Derek_and
      Stiles_are_Mates, They_are_Both_Dorks, The_Author_Regrets_Nothing, Plot
      What_Plot/Porn_Without_Plot
  Stats:
      Published: 2014-06-22 Words: 2422
****** An Exploration of Flawless Imperfection ******
by iamee
Summary
     Stiles may be the virgin, but Derek is the one who completely loses
     it.
Notes
     (I love you, Jimmy.)
     Uhm, yes. I have this headcanon that Stiles would need to comfort
     Derek during their first time. So I wrote PWP with emotions. Enjoy.
An Exploration of Flawless Imperfection
 
  Uh, Stiles said. My knowledge on the subject is kinda limited, but I think
                          you're supposed to breathe.
 
Derek gave a sound that was pretty much a pathetic howl if there was such a
thing. At least there was the indication of air filling his lungs. Which was a
success, as far as Stiles was concerned.
He moved a little, trying to adjust himself on top of Derek and press a kiss
just underneath his collarbone. It wasn't the most ideal of positions to be
fingered (again: at least in his very very limited experience), but it was the
only one they could have agreed on. "Agreed on" meant in this case it was the
only position in which Derek's eyes flashed less and his nails stayed kinda
blunt which Stiles preferred given their current location thankyouverymuch.
 
                                    Derek.
 
All it got him was Derek's eyelids fluttering and his lips parting, pink tongue
wetting them like the sight wasn't totally obscene and kinda maddening. Fucking
useless sexy werewolf boyfriend.
 
                     Fine. I'll just do all the work then.
 
Stiles rolled his eyes and pushed himself up enough to sit back, biting back a
gasp when it drove Derek's fingers deeper inside and for a moment he just
rocked back and forth. Fuck yes. Another time he'd tell Derek how good that
was, how stupidly, amazingly good to have his fingers drag over his walls.
Right now it would most likely result in this ending too soon and Stiles had
not waited for months just to give up within touching distance of the finish
line, goddamnit.
So he moved up a little, fingers nearly leaving him and he bit his lip as he
reached for the lube. Derek finally cracked an eye open.
 
                              Decided to join me?
 
Stiles made a mental note to work on his bedroom voice. More sensual confidence
and less passive-aggressive neediness would be sort of nice.
 
                                   Stiles...
 
Another eye opened, Derek's breath coming in short, warm surges, like it
actually wasn't possible to keep it down long enough.
 
                  You know, we don't really have to do this.
 
                                     What?
 
The shock on Derek's face almost made him laugh until it turned into something
frightened, wordless, and Stiles swallowed.
 
                      I mean I want to, I do. But you...
 
Derek repeated his name, pushing himself up so they were both sitting, cocks
rubbing together, mouths finding each other and yes. God yes. That was it,
their skin sticking together with sweat and precome, their tongues curling
around little curses, their hands tangling into hair and sheets, their...
Derek whimpered.
In theory, Stiles' plan had been rather flawless. Pretty much perfect, to be
honest.
Step 1: Have a parent-free house for a night. Check.
Step 2: Buy condoms and lube in a way Scott doesn't notice because you don't
want to have that conversation with your best friend. Semi-check.
Step 3: Get Derek naked. Check. Definitely_check.
Step 4: Find inner calamity in the fact that your older, more experienced
boyfriend has obviously done more than simply have a research-based three-
weeks-long gay porn marathon.Check???
Like he had said: flawless in theory.
 
                                    Derek.
 
Stiles took a deep breath.
 
 Virgin Enterprise to Planet Derek. I'm the one who's supposed to have a minor
   freak-out about getting my cherry popped. You (here he pressed a kiss to
 Derek's lips) are supposed to tell me it's going to be okay when you put your
                           fantastic dick inside me.
 
                                 I'm... sorry.
 
                                What was that?
 
Stiles pulled back enough to study Derek's face, relieved to find him looking
back until he saw the way his pupils were dilated, eyes near black, with just
the smallest circle of green around them. And uh... was that because of him?
 
I know, Derek said. He sounded absolutely raw. I know I should be, I should...
                               but fuck. Stiles.
 
From somewhere inside Stiles' guts warmth spread out throughout his whole body,
even stronger than when they had started. He was doing this to Derek. He was
making him forget all that big bad wolf bullshit (as hot as that was). He
was... apparently making him shiver, if the tremble going through Derek's arms
and ending in this abdomen where they were still pressed together, slick and
hot, was any indication at all. Jesus Christ.
 
   Shh, Stiles found himself whispering against Derek's lips. I've got this.
 
And for the moment it felt like it was true, at least when he squeezed more
lube into his hand and sank back on Derek's fingers, eliciting a strangled moan
from probably more than one of them.
 
                                It'll be okay.
 
His slick fingers wrapped around Derek's length, the tips brushing his own cock
and his hips bucked in tandem with Derek's. It went on for a bit in silence,
just their breaths and the wet sound of skin on skin filling the room. It was
heady, it wasn't enough, it was goodgoodgood, but mostly because there was more
to come.
 
         Stiles, Derek said again. For the uncounted time that night.
 
                                 Yeah. Please.
 
Their foreheads leaned together, his hand leaving Derek's cock in favour of
reaching behind himself, to where Derek's fingers curled inside of him. Thank
fuck that the part of Derek's brain which was responsible for preparation
hadn't been fried with the rest of it. Stiles knew better than to be ungrateful
for the small things.
 
                                 Just lemme...
 
He drew a breath, one finger dipping inside himself, joining Derek's three,
awkward angle be damned. It had its undeniable benefits to be good with
improvising.
Derek's lips parted for a shuddering breath, followed by a sound that totally
not made Stiles' cock twitch between them. There was a tongue ghosting over his
bottom lip, and seriously, had Derek stopped shaking only once since he had
noticed? God, he was so screwed. Hopefully.
 
                              I think I'm ready.
                         (Understatement of the year.)
 
He didn't imagine the nod Derek gave him, or the way he gripped his finger when
they both withdrew from his body, like he needed to hold onto any part that was
Stiles, any reminder that this was really happening.
Another kiss, a little push and Derek was splayed out on the bed, chest
heaving, his eyes hooded. Even if Stiles had wanted he couldn't be mad because
come on, Derek fucking Hale was in his bed, turning out to be pure submission
under his virgin hands. There you go with a turn-on he didn't think existed.
 
                                    So uhm.
 
Stiles slid up on Derek's body, heart pounding and blood rushing in his ears.
Becausethis was it.
 
 How about we skip condoms? It's not like werewolves have diseases, right? And
 I'm like, one hundred percent untouched. Well, not untouched, you know what I
 mean. You were there every time I was touched and that makes it pretty much –
 
                                    Stiles.
 
That. That finally sounded like the Derek he knew, growly and with this hint of
annoyance like he couldn't quite figure out why he was enjoying Stiles' company
oh so very much and it never ceased to bug him.
 
                                     Yes?
                                        
                         Are you going to make me beg?
 
Stiles considered that for a moment, hands on Derek's chest and their gazes
locked. The moment stretched. The expression in Derek's eyes became slightly
panicked.
 
                                      No.
 
Derek let out a breath, his head falling back into the sheets, a deep rumble
going through him and vibrating in Stiles' body.
 
                                    Then...
                                        
  I mean "no, not today". But I definitely like the thing your face just did.
                                        
                                  I hate you.
 
Stiles felt a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth as he reached behind
himself and guided Derek to his entrance, amazingly enough somehow managing not
to lose his balance.
 
                                No, you don't.
 
There was a bit of grinding involved, the shifting of his hips, the
straightening of his spine, and more than just one wilful struggle to get his
body to relax. But eventually the head slipped in, and Stiles stilled, trying
to catch his breath.
In the warm glow of his bedside lamp, Derek's skin became the most amazing
thing. Under his hands, Derek's heart beat like it was going to break free from
his ribs. Under his gaze, Derek opened his eyes once again and they were wet
with something so desperate that Stiles had to lower his head and suck in the
heavy-scented air between them.
A million things he wanted to say, all stupid and needy and hopelessly in love,
but all that found its way onto the tip of his tongue was Derek's name (and how
cliché was that?) when he sank further down on him. Inch. By fucking. Inch.
It was quiet now, minus their barely controlled panting and the small hissing
sound Stiles gave now and then, when the pressure became too much, forcing him
to pause, breathe through it and continue. Because stopping wasn't an option
he'd even consider.
Endless seconds later, his heart hammering somewhere in his ears and his hands
having gripped Derek's shoulders, he was flush against his hips. Nothing, not
even a sheet of paper would have fitted between their bodies, but they fitted
together perfectly, snug and hotdeeprightthere. And nothing, no amount of porn
or his admittedly pretty vivid fantasy could have prepared him for the noise
Derek made, the first time he started moving. Because Derek sounded absolutely
wrecked.
And holy animal crackers, could Stiles ever sympathise with that. Derek pressed
to his insides in a way that would ruin fingers for him for a while. Hell, it
would probably ruin him while he was on it. When he moved, there was a slight
burn, but mostly a thick drag over his walls, right up against his prostate,
and by the third time he was crying out something that was hopefully not as
obscene as the thoughts dancing through his endorphine-attacked brain.
 
                                     More.
 
If Stiles had had the energy he would have mentally patted himself on the
shoulder for managing an entirewhole complete word, but the way it was right
now, he was more than happy to roll his hips and dig his fingers into Derek's
shoulders on every downward movement. And then Derek met him halfway.
 
                                     Fuck!
 
Stiles' eyes flew wide open, his mouth probably curved into a dumbstruck "oh"-
shape, his hands slipping to Derek's neck so he could pull himself down,
whimper against his lips instead of the ceiling. His thighs squeezed tighter
around Derek's hips, a sob rolling from his lips when Derek pulled up his knees
and thrust into him with the newly gained leverage, that bastard.
Fuck indeed.
A kiss was clumsily brushed to the corner of his mouth, hands curling around
his hipbones and pulling him down every time Derek slammed back in. So much for
holding back.
 
                                    Derek!
 
His heart had seemingly made the decision to escape through his throat, because
by now it was blocking his breathing, his skin growing tighter with every
passing second. Every. Goddamn. Thrust. Right to the core of this body. Behind
closed eyelids, colours flashed, each push jolting through his body a mixture
of pleasure and pain. He would doubtlessly develop a temporary aversion to the
concept of "sitting down" over the next few days.
And as for Derek... Derek was whining, no matter how precisely he drove back
into Stiles' all too welcoming body, as if they had reached a level of sheer
unbearable intensity where there was nothing they could do but follow the pulls
and pushes of their bodies. And maybe that was true. It certainly felt like it
was true.
 
                        I've... got you, Stiles gasped.
 
His hands moved up to cradle Derek's face, their noses rubbing together from
the frantic movement of their hips. Once upon a time there had been oxygen in
Stiles' bedroom but it had long been replaced with a dense fog of sweat and
hormones, lube and something that was just them.
And Derek's hand slid between them, into the space between their bellies, where
everything was slippery and intoxicating, fingers wrapping around Stiles' cock,
starting to stroke him like it wasn't even consciousness, but instinct that
told Derek to give back, to make them come as close together as they could.
 
                           It's okay. It's oh..kay.
 
Stiles didn't know what he was saying, why he was still talking, reassuring
Derek of stuff he didn't know the first thing about, reminding him that they
were fine, alive, here, together. His mouth tasted like metal and sweetness and
his hips moved on their own, pushing back at Derek in increasingly sloppy
motions.
They were here and there was nothing else. Nothing but Derek's body all around
him, inside of him, taking him apart. Nothing but Derek's sounds, like it was
almost painful, like he was losing part of himself in Stiles but loving every
second of it. If anything they could ruin each other, shatter to pieces and
pick them up again like they always would. Because this was them and this was
what they did. The liquid fire in Stiles' belly had long enough been contained,
but now it was boiling up, rushing through him with force and he buried his
face in the crook of Derek's neck, stifling a scream as he came over his
fingers, pulsing and his thighs quivering from the effort to hold him up.
He felt himself growing tense, incredibly tight around Derek's cock and Derek
arched underneath him, hips pressed up against his backside, one shaking hand
on the small of Stiles' back. He had never known his name could sound like
that, like a plea and a curse and love, and Derek moved inside of him a last
time before he stilled. Stiles' lips were parted over Derek's skin, dampening
it with breath, eyes half-closed while Derek's come filled him, hot and slick,
unlike anything else he'd felt before.
It took a long time until Stiles felt he could safely use his voice again.
 
I hate to be that guy but if you don't carry me to the bathroom right now, I'll
 just sleep on top of you. Like this. And then I'll probably stick to you for
       the rest of our lives and you'll never ever get rid of me. Ever.
 
There was moment of silence before Derek cleared his throat.
 
                               Shut up, Stiles.
 
The restrained laugh that went through Derek's body felt even better with their
bodies still connected and Stiles blinked up at him, a slow grin spreading on
his face.
 
                                 Welcome back.
 
 
The_End
Please drop_by_the_archive_and_comment to let the author know if you enjoyed
their work!
