
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/1948002.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Teen_Wolf_(TV)
  Relationship:
      Derek_Hale/Stiles_Stilinski
  Character:
      Derek_Hale, Stiles_Stilinski, Isaac_Lahey, Kira_Yukimura, Lydia_Martin,
      Allison_Argent, Aiden_(Teen_Wolf), Ethan_(Teen_Wolf), Scott_McCall_(Teen
      Wolf)
  Additional Tags:
      First_Time, Hand_Jobs, Blow_Jobs, Outdoor_Sex, Underage_Sex, Sex_with
      Clothes_On, Oral_Sex, Monsters, Manticore, Plot_What_Plot/Porn_Without
      Plot, Blanket_Permission, Podfic_Welcome
  Stats:
      Published: 2014-07-13 Words: 1294
****** Patience is Overrated ******
by mithrel
Summary
     Derek wants to wait until Stiles is eighteen to have sex.
Notes
     For lady_drace. Happy birthday!
“Fuck, Derek, please!” Stiles groans, thrusting his hips up, but Derek ignores
him where he’s latched on to Stiles’ nipple.
Stiles tries to reach for Derek’s belt, but without even looking up from what
he’s doing, Derek takes his wrists in one hand and puts them over his head, and
it’d be humiliating except Stiles is so hard it hurts.
And then Derek does look up, his eyes flashing blue, and growls “Don’t tempt
me.”
Stiles shivers. Three goddamn more months of this, because Derek figures his
dad is already pissed enough at him, without Derek deflowering his underage
son…
It had taken him months to get up the nerve to kiss Derek, since he figured the
odds were at least 50/50 he’d get pulped, even though they were sorta friends
now.
So he was surprised as fuck when Derek mashed him against the wall, running his
hands under Stiles' shirts and kissing him like he wanted to breathe him in and
at the same time crawl into his skin.
And Stiles was shocked for only a fraction of a second, before he got with the
program and his arms came up.
But when he thrust his hips against Derek’s, feeling the beginnings of definite
interest there, Derek jumped back like he’d suddenly been coated in wolfsbane.
“No!”
Stiles stared at him, confused and not a little hurt. “No?”
Derek shook himself. “Not until you’re eighteen. We can’t.”
And Stiles wasn’t sure whether to laugh or growl. “Dude, that’s only four
months, it doesn’t matter!”
Derek scrubbed a hand over his face, then glared at him. “Stiles, you’re
thesheriff’s kid!I don’t want him coming after me as a child molester!”
“I’m not a–“
Derek cuts him off. “Iknowyou’re not a child!” he rasps, licking his lips and
looking Stiles up and down in a way that makes him shiver again. “But we still
can’t.”
So he’s putting up with what he can get, but it’s torture. He reaches down into
Derek’s jeans, kneads his ass, and Derek stiffens underneath him, pulling away,
and Stiles is suddenly babbling.
“Please, please let me, I won’t take your clothes off, I promise, just–“ and he
arches up, and Derek moans and grinds down, and suddenly Stiles’ shorts are
sticking to him.
Derek goes beet-red and gets up, but not before Stiles notices the wet spot on
his own jeans. His mind would be blown over the fact that he just made Derek
freaking Hale come in his pants, except before he can say anything, or even
collect his thoughts, Derek’s out the window, leaving Stiles in a rumpled bed
with a mess to clean up and no clue what just happened.
***
Derek avoids him after that, and it sucks, but then they uncover a nest of
manticores, and Stiles is (mostly) too busy researching to bemoan his love life
(or lack thereof).
The werewolves go in while the mother manticore is out hunting and kill the
babies, crushing their tails with stones and tearing their throats out (which
Stiles is vehemently against, since having a pissed off mama monster that can
shoot poisonous darts out of its ass is not a good thing.)
But Derek, as usual, ignores his advice, and, surprise surprise, Mama Beastie
comes after the pack, since they apparently can smell as well as werewolves
can.
But they’d gotten some advice from Deaton, as well as what Stiles had looked
up, so after forty-five minutes of wolfing out, pepper spray and general chaos,
they manage to bring it down.
Allison stings it with ivory arrows, while the wolves circle it. Stiles feels
ridiculous, since he’s wearing a freaking lion skin, but apparently manticores
couldn’t kill lions, so Derek insisted.
He, Lydia and Kira are all armed with ivory tipped spears, as well as the Mace
(since manticores evidently couldn’t kill elephants either) and they took turns
darting in and stabbing at the thing.
One or more of their hits must have done the trick, since the thing starts
getting sluggish, and the twins take it down with their super-wolf form.
Stiles falls to his knees, the manky lion skin slipping off his shoulders, and
immediately Derek’s at his side.
“Are you alright? Did it get you?”
Stiles snorts. “No, it didn’t ‘get’ me! I just happen to be human, and now that
the thing’s dead, the adrenaline crash knocked me on my ass!”
But Derek doesn’t seem to believe him, checking his skin for puncture marks
(which is kinda ridiculous, since with the size of the stinger, if it got him
Stiles would have a hole the size of his head, and probably half of his blood
volume on the grass).
But he’s so happy to have Derek’s hands on him again, so happy to have his
attention after three weeks of Derek ignoring him, that he doesn’t complain.
Derek shoots a look over his shoulder, says, “We need to get rid of the body,”
then goes right back to pawing at Stiles.
Kira pulls out a lighter, and Isaac lopes back to Derek’s Camaro to get the gas
cans they’d prepped, while Scott and the twins start scraping a bare circle
around the carcass (they have enough trouble without Smokey the Bear showing up
to yell at them them for starting a forest fire in the Preserve) and Allison
and Lydia start pulling up grass for tinder.
While they’re distracted, Derek drags Stiles out of the clearing and back into
the woods. He yelps, but he’s kinda happy to have Derek manhandling him again
too (and, jeez, what does that say about him?) so he doesn’t protest too hard.
He wants to protest even less when Derek shoves him against a tree, rucks up
his T-shirt and buries his head in the crook of his shoulder.
Goosebumps pop up all over his skin as Derek inhales, and he grabs his
shoulders, clawing at him through the shirt.
Derek pulls away for an agonizing second, strips off his T-shirt, then spins
them so that he’s against the tree.
Stiles takes half a second to appreciate the consideration (he doesn’t want his
back lacerated by bark) but then Derek’s kissing him like he’s trying to
freaking inhale him, and Stiles can’t help moaning.
Derek wrestles his flannel off, tears himself away from Stiles’ mouth just long
enough to get his T-shirt off, then goes back to examining Stiles’ tonsils.
When his hands reach for Stiles’ belt, however, he yanks his mouth away and
grabs Derek’s hands, the tiny functioning part of his brain left wondering if
he’s gone crazy. “Hey, hold on!”
Derek looks at him then, and Stiles almost collapses again at the look of mixed
possessiveness and lust he sees in them. “What?!”
The rough growl starts the goosebumps flaring again. “I…thought you wanted to
wait,” he says lamely, since apparently the program’s changed.
“Fuck that,” Derek growls, and drops to his knees, wrestling with Stiles’ belt
again.
And now Stiles kinda wishes he does have the tree to lean against, but Derek’s
kneading his ass as well as keeping him upright, so he just bucks into Derek’s
mouth, whimpering, knowing he’s about to humiliate himself again but too turned
on to care.
Sure enough, after only about two minutes of Derek’s mouth on him, he shoots
down his throat with a low groan and Derek takes it all.
After a couple moments of panting, he pulls Derek up to kiss him, fumbling with
his belt.
Derek pulls away. “I’m sorry, I’ll do it properly later, I just–“
Stiles looks at him like he’s crazy as he gets Derek’s belt open and finally
puts his hands on him. “Dude. That was awesome.”
Derek’s only able to groan.
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