
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/593125.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Teen_Wolf_(TV)
  Relationship:
      Derek_Hale/Stiles_Stilinski
  Character:
      Derek_Hale, Stiles_Stilinski
  Additional Tags:
      Light_Bondage, Light_Dom/sub
  Series:
      Part 1 of when_you_turn_the_lights_out
  Stats:
      Published: 2012-12-14 Words: 1761
****** goosebumps pebble ******
by thatfire
Summary
     It's the first time they've done this – not the sex, no, they've been
     doing that for months, since after the alpha pack left, but the...
     submission, the giving of control, that's new.
Notes
     I've never written anything like this before, not anything with hints
     (consciously) of dom/sub, but this came to me and i couldn't resist
     having a go at writing it :3 I hope it didn't mess anything up :)
Stiles is kneeling at the base of the bed, head lowered, almost touching his
chest, his hands are resting on his thighs, fingertips twitching every-now-and-
again.
Derek can see how his body thrums from where he stands in the doorway and he
has to resist the urge to shift, is sure Stiles can feel eyes on his naked back
even as the hairs at the base of his neck rise and goosebumps pebble his arms.
It's the first time they've done this – not the sex, no, they've been doing
that for months, since after the alpha pack left, but the... submission, the
giving of control, that's new.
 
Stiles had been twitchy and loose limbed, knocking things over and tripping,
after they'd finally (finally) managed to remove the Alpha Pack, twitchy in a
way he hadn't been in months.
The pack had noticed but hadn't said anything, all breathing easy and relaxing
after weeks of training and fighting and pain, but Derek had noticed, been
drawn, confused, to the way Stiles had started to hold himself.
Stiles had been more still, calm, after they'd started sleeping together,
started talking, and doing things like a couple, but there were still moments,
moments where Stiles would started twitching, would send off waves of
frustration and something that smelt like sadness, but more bitter, more
confused, and no matter how hard Derek thought, or how much he focused on what
could have caused Stiles to feel like that, there wasn't anything.
It's Stiles who brings it up first, when sex and training with the pack only
help for a few hours at the most.
They'd just eaten, and the house had been quiet apart from the television Isaac
made Derek buy, and he can remember how Stiles had tried to hold himself still,
how he'd been stiff and had chewed his lip, and Derek had been getting ready to
say something, to find out what was wrong, was it Derek? Something he'd done?
When Stiles had sighed, slumped against the sofa and twisted until he'd been
facing Derek.
And Derek had waited, focused on Stiles, a heavy hand on his knee, not
restricting but comforting and Stiles had bit his lip and-
“Can we...” Derek can remember the way Stiles had swallowed, hard, how he'd
averted his eyes and how his heartbeat was so fast, “Can we try something?
Something different, something I think I... need.”
 
Derek had said yes. Of course.
They'd both researched, figured out what they'd both be comfortable with,
chosen safe words and planned it out, until they were both ready.
But Derek is nervous, now, when Stiles is naked and kneeling and ready. He's
scared of messing this up, of ruining it for Stiles, or hurting him, doing
something wrong that he doesn't like. He's scared of what this could mean for
them.
And then Stiles tenses, like he's scared Derek has changed his mind, or that
he's done something wrong, Derek doesn't know, but he's promised Stiles,
promised himself, that they'd try this, and he's hard from just staring at
Stiles like this and can smell Stiles' arousal, musky and strong,-
Derek steps further into the room, and closes the door behind him, his feet
silent as he walks to Stiles.
“You're doing so well.” Derek's almost touching Stiles now, the rough fabric of
his jeans rubbing along Stiles' arm as he walks past. His voice is raw,
wrecked.
Stiles relaxes under the praise.
They won't use words like “Good boy.” or “Sweetheart.”, Derek can't force
himself to even speak them, and Stiles hates being called boy, had said once,
“I get it, I'm young, but I've seen more than most people double my age have
seen, I am not a boy.” and Derek, it reminds Derek of Kate, and what he has
with Stiles is good, and safe, not fire and lust and sweet mocking words like
Kate.
 
“So well,” Derek repeats, quieter now.
He runs a hand over Stiles buzz cut head, rubs his thumb along a sharp
cheekbone, before thumbing over Stiles' bottom lip.
He can see Stiles hesitate before his eyes flick up to Derek's, almost like
seeking permission and Derek nods, just a short bob of his head, but it's
enough and then there's a wet heat on his thumb.
Stiles alternates between nips of his teeth and hollowing his cheeks and
Derek's breathing heavy already, lets Stiles give one last suck before he
removes his thumb, smiling briefly when Stiles whines.
 
“On the bed.” Derek says, and Stiles blinks sluggishly for a moment, before he
shifts to all fours, head lowered and hanging between his shoulders as he
crawls onto the bed.
Derek swallows as he stands at the end of the bed, watches Stiles crawl until
he's in the middle.
He can see where Stiles is wet and open from where he'd stretched himself
before they started. Can see muscles shift as Stiles gets comfortable. His cock
is hard and heavy between his legs and the top is glistening already with pre-
come, but he doesn't make anymove to touch it, waits instead for Derek's
command.
 
“Arms straight in front of you.” Derek's got his belt undone and his jeans and
boxers half way down his thighs, but he pauses when Stiles shifts in the corner
of his eyes, as he lifts onto his knees and lowers his chest until it's flush
with the bed, lifts his arms in front of him, just like Derek said.
 
“You're so good.” Derek doesn't mean to say it, (not that he means it any
less), he just knows Stiles will get all the meanings too it, feels vulnerable,
but Stiles only makes a pleased noise, and turns his head to stare at Derek,
his eyes almost black and his cheeks flushed, lips bitten red.
 
When Derek's out of his jeans and old t-shirt, Stiles eyes still on him,
waiting and still hard, he lifts himself onto the bed, knees between Stiles'
bent legs, shifting them till they're further apart.
Derek doesn't say anything, but runs his palms up Stiles' thighs, watches how
goosebumps follow his fingers tips, rubs his thumbs between the crease of
thighs meet cheeks and dips them closer to the middle, not touching his hole
but close, and enjoys the way Stiles' breath hitches and gasps. Derek leans
down, breath ghosting over Stiles' spine before biting down and sucking a mark,
one arm wrapped under Stiles' stomach, hand spread over his heart. He can feel
the way Stiles' heart beats faster, can feel the air leave him as he lets out a
shocked moan, enjoys the way he rocks back, thigh catching on Derek's cock and
Derek can't help that he bites down harder, not enough to draw blood, but
enough to really feelit, before drawing back, hand whispering over Stiles'
cock.
 
Stiles is wet and prepared from earlier, but Derek still reaches over for the
lube, still wants to make sure, make sure he's really stretched and ready.
 
“What do you want?” And Derek's voice is wrecked, but he just wants to hear it,
even has he runs the pad of his finger of Stiles' rim, as he slips one in, even
though they've gone over this. Stiles can say no whenever he wants, can make as
much noise as he wants unless Derek tells him to be quiet (but he wont, loves
the noises Stiles makes too much), Stiles can tell Derek what he needs before
they start and then Derek's in control, takes the lead and Stiles gives it
over, gives himself and Derek protects it, cares for him.
 
Derek's got two fingers inside Stiles, but he's ready to pull them out, because
Stiles hasn't said anything, but when he finally speaks, his voice is raw and
broken.
“You, just you.” And thrusts back onto Derek's fingers, whining as they catch
and drag over his prostate.
And Derek can't resist any longer, drags his fingers out and coats his cock
with lube, shifts until he's lined up with Stiles and eases in, groans at the
slick pull, the heavy scent of sex and them.
He tries to keep it slow, savours the feeling of slick wet heat, the sounds
Stiles makes, constant moans and whines and how his hands are clenching in the
pillow above his head, because Derek hasn't said to move them.
 
But it's not enough.
Stiles moans are almost needy and his back is taught, and Derek knows he needs
more, slows his thrusts to a stop but stays inside.
“Kneel up.” Derek says, and Stiles scrambles to obey, even as his limbs are
heavy, almost tips over before Derek wraps around around his chest, hauls him
close to his own chest and rests back on his haunches.
There's not much room for movement like this, but Derek can lift his hand to
wrap around Stiles throat, cup under his chin and rub over his pulse point, not
enough to constrict his breathing, but just a pressure of there, and Stiles
moans and clenches around Derek, lifting weakly and dropping back down.
“That's it, just like that, god, you're so good.” Derek doesn't realise he's
talking, but the words are dripping from his mouth and Stiles is clenching on
every other word, releasing high pitched whines through his nose and his nails
are digging into Derek's arm around his stomach.
Stiles is trying to meet each of Derek's thrusts, it's faster and harder, and
his cock is dripping and bouncing against his stomach and Derek's hand is still
rubbing at his throat, but it's not until he bites where neck meets shoulder,
that Derek feels Stiles go taught, watches through half-lidded eyes as his back
bows, mouth open but no noise escaping, that Stiles finally comes, comes
without any touch from Derek or his own hand.
Derek thinks he might say something like “Mine,” into the wet skin of Stiles
neck when he comes, but he can't hear anything over the pulsing beat of his own
heart, and the wet gasps Stiles is still making, can only hear and feel Stiles,
the way his body twitches with sated aftershocks and how he's still
spasmodically clenching around Derek.
 
When Derek can finally move, he lowers Stiles onto the bed, mindful of his come
and they're both pretty much boneless and Stiles has a sleepy happy smile on
his face, is staring at Derek like he's the best thing there is, and Derek's
pretty sure he's grinning himself,
 
and then Stiles says “God, we are so doing that again.”
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