MMoM: Day 23
This mess was yours
Derek/Stiles, R, 1900-ish words
5+1 times
01.
Up the tree, jump from the branch to the roof. From the roof it's just a couple steps and then Derek's through the window, making it a bit of game in his head.
He was so concerned with how agile he felt, how easily he made the leaps, that he didn't bother looking in the room before crashing in announced.
Literally crashing, as it were. As soon as he got into the room he saw Stiles sprawled on his back across his bed, one leg bent up while he stroked his cock and made sounds and goddammit, Derek was on the floor in a heap with Stiles' desk chair dumped over beside him.
"Dude! Knock first!" Stiles cried from his bed, and Derek caught a flash of blankets being flipped over himself but he didn't stop to check because he was out the window as quickly as he arrived.
Not feeling anywhere near as sure-footed during his departure.
02.
Stiles had a date.
Stiles had a date.
Stiles has a date?
"Oh, for the love of-yes, Derek," Lydia said, patient and annoyed. "For the last time. Stiles has a date."
"Huh."
"Apparently some people aren't afraid to go after what they want," she said, eyes boring into the side of his head. Derek didn't bother responding.
"I'm going out for a second," he muttered instead and left the McCall house in a hurry, leaving the rest of the pack around the kitchen table to research, which Derek realized with a jolt wasn't nearly as fun or effective without Stiles.
***
It wasn't like he was driving around town looking for Stiles' Jeep to keep an eye on him. It wasn't.
And if it looked like it, well, that was just a coincidence.
He ended up at the Stilinski house where the Jeep sat and either the date picked Stiles up or it was a really quick evening. Derek parked a block away and walked up casually, as if he belonged there or something.
He circled around from the back and put his hand on the hood. Still warm.
He looked up, through the windshield, and Stiles was in the driver's seat staring at him, eyebrow cocked but surprised.
Derek felt his cheeks flush and he moved over to the driver's side window while Stiles made some movement inside with his clothes. Derek raised his eyebrow in response.
"How was your date?"
"Fine," Stiles replied through the window.
"I know I can hear you fine but that's rude," Derek replied, pointing to the glass. Stiles rolled his eyes and rolled down his window barely enough to stick a finger through.
"Better?" Stiles asked sarcastically, but his cheeks were getting redder by the second as well.
And then Derek could smell it.
"Seriously, Stiles?" he asked, exasperated. He tried not to look but couldn't help catching a glimpse of the jacket Stiles hastily threw into his lap.
"The date didn't go the way I wanted, okay!" Stiles fumed. "You can leave me in peace now!"
And Derek did, hightailed it back to his car and turned in the direction of the McCall house. He thought about pulling over and doing the same thing in a secluded area but he was going back to a house full of werewolves.
He could wait.
03.
How Derek got roped into this stupid party was beyond him.
"You should come, it'll be fun!"
"There'll be people there your age!"
"You can be the DD!"
It definitely wasn't fun, there were some people his age there but they were there with dates and he could be called if someone needed a ride home.
He kept an eye on the pack; the ‘wolves managed to get their hands on some wolfsbane infused liquor and he knew it would still burn off quicker than normal but he still worried. Lydia sipped at her wine and wouldn't let herself get out of control at this kind of party Derek knew. But Stiles.
Stiles didn't know how to pace himself and he flitted around the room like a damn butterfly, dancing and joking with everyone, regardless of whether he knew them or not. The rest of the pack laughed and shook their heads at him.
Derek watched.
After midnight Derek caught sight of Stiles and some guy, Derek didn't know if he was from Stiles' school or not, talking low and close in a corner. Stiles' cheeks were flushed bright red from the alcohol, his eyes glassy and his smile wide and wild. He nodded enthusiastically to something the other guy said into his ear and together they weaved through the party toward the stairs.
Derek forced himself to stay put where he was. It was of no concern to him what Stiles did or didn't do and with whom.
He lasted five minutes.
He used his hearing to track them down, their breathy whispers and light moans driving him a little mad when he located them behind the closed door to the upstairs bathroom.
He turned back but then heard Stiles groan, "Yeah, like that," and then he was knocking on the door and opening it, stumbling in like it was an accident.
"Damn, sor-Stiles?" Derek said, eyes going wide in fake shock. The other guy hastily grabbed his pants and pulled them up without so much as a "see you later" to Stiles, who looked dazed, then murderous. His pants were open and his cock hanging out, half-hard and on its way to full.
"You are a menace," Stiles said between gritted teeth. He pointed to the hallway. "Out! I'll finish this my own damn self!"
Derek backed out of the room without another word and closed the door soundly behind him. He waited in the hallway, listening while Stiles brought himself off and didn't grin when he caught the gasped, "Fuck you, Derek" when he came.
The ride home was awkward.
04.
Derek knew it was a risk to go to the locker room at the high school when he needed to talk to the pack but sometimes it was the only option he had when he needed to make a point. And sometimes Scott called him there himself.
Today it was neither.
It was lacrosse practice day. Sometimes Derek showed up to watch from the woods, checking out how the team was going. This was totally innocent.
Stiles got a little too chatty during practice (so surprising!) and Finstock held him back to do suicides after the rest of the team was dismissed. Derek expected Stiles to protest and whine the whole time but he actually did them without complaint and well.
When the pressure wasn't on him Stiles wasn't half bad with physical stuff, Derek decided.
It made him late to shower and by the time he was in the locker room the rest of the team were finishing up and on their way out for the afternoon. Derek heard Stiles tell Scott he'd call him later and then the locker room was silent, except for the shower running.
Derek moved quietly and peered around a bank of lockers that he knew from memory had a great view into the shower area. Stiles standing with his back to Derek, water sluicing over his pert ass. Stiles rolled his shoulders a few times, letting the heat sink in, then he tipped his head back and groaned.
The sound went straight to Derek's dick and he gripped the edge of the lockers tightly. He let his eyes roam down Stiles' body and he realized Stiles' right hand was moving like he was -
Stiles turned around and slumped against the wall and yes, he was jerking off.
Derek bit his lip to keep his growl in while he watched Stiles' long fingers wrap around himself and stroke, using some shampoo as lube it looked like. His other hand fingered his own nipples, going back and forth between them until they looked incredibly tight and hard under his ministrations.
Derek watched while he got harder in his own pants and his eyes damn-near glazed over. He watched Stiles as his hand moved faster and he dropped his other hand to pull at his balls, trying to get this over with quicker.
It didn't take long before he was coming against his stomach, jerking his way through it with gasps and tired-sounding moans. When he was done he ran his hand down and wiped himself off into the drains and Derek wanted to weep.
He left then, not sure he would be able to hold himself back much longer.
He didn't get very far into the woods before he was pushing his jeans open and jerking one out with the image of a wet, lithe Stiles in his head.
05.
Sure, a pack camping trip was a great idea.
Scott wanted to bond and have a good memory to start college with. In theory it was a great idea. No one even bitched.
Course, no one else was stupid enough to set their tent up next to Stiles and be forced to listen to him get himself off at least twice a nice for each of the three nights they were in the woods together.
All during the whole trip Derek caught Stiles watching him and maybe... flirting? It seemed like he would give Derek looks, would lick his lips or make a show of drawing attention to his mouth in general, which wasn't hard considering how much he talked.
But at night it was much more difficult for Derek to be forced to lay in his tent and not retaliate with his own breathy moans and slapslapslap sound of his hand working his cock.
On the last night Derek was sure he heard Stiles breathe his name, whisper out a plaintive Derek before coming.
It had to be the fresh mountain air or something.
Right.
+ 01.
"Yeah, Scott. I'll be there soon. I wanted to double check something in one of Derek's books before I forget about it and we're all wishing we knew how to get rid of kelpies. ... Well I know we haven't yet but won't you be happier knowing we can?"
Stiles didn't bother knocking before he opened the door to Derek's loft. He would have had to gone blind and deaf to not know Stiles was on his way up and he wasn't exactly aiming for stealth.
He kept the phone to his ear, listening to Scott go on about the possible movie options for the pack night, and actually made it about halfway across the floor in the loft before he stopped dead, mind going blank.
Derek was kneeling on his bed, totally naked. He was stroking his cock and staring at Stiles without looking away, challenging him.
Stiles fish-mouthed while Scott's words fell on his suddenly-deaf ears. He turned on his heel and started back for the door.
"Hey Scotty? Something's come up-um, I mean. Ha! I won't be able to make it tonight, okay? Sorry, really sorry. But there's something I just realized I have to look into very extensively right now. Totally personal."
Stiles ended the call while Scott was still talking and grinned at the sound of Derek growling softly at him while he closed and locked the loft door with a resounding click.
Derek/Stiles, R, 1900-ish words
5+1 times
01.
Up the tree, jump from the branch to the roof. From the roof it's just a couple steps and then Derek's through the window, making it a bit of game in his head.
He was so concerned with how agile he felt, how easily he made the leaps, that he didn't bother looking in the room before crashing in announced.
Literally crashing, as it were. As soon as he got into the room he saw Stiles sprawled on his back across his bed, one leg bent up while he stroked his cock and made sounds and goddammit, Derek was on the floor in a heap with Stiles' desk chair dumped over beside him.
"Dude! Knock first!" Stiles cried from his bed, and Derek caught a flash of blankets being flipped over himself but he didn't stop to check because he was out the window as quickly as he arrived.
Not feeling anywhere near as sure-footed during his departure.
02.
Stiles had a date.
Stiles had a date.
Stiles has a date?
"Oh, for the love of-yes, Derek," Lydia said, patient and annoyed. "For the last time. Stiles has a date."
"Huh."
"Apparently some people aren't afraid to go after what they want," she said, eyes boring into the side of his head. Derek didn't bother responding.
"I'm going out for a second," he muttered instead and left the McCall house in a hurry, leaving the rest of the pack around the kitchen table to research, which Derek realized with a jolt wasn't nearly as fun or effective without Stiles.
***
It wasn't like he was driving around town looking for Stiles' Jeep to keep an eye on him. It wasn't.
And if it looked like it, well, that was just a coincidence.
He ended up at the Stilinski house where the Jeep sat and either the date picked Stiles up or it was a really quick evening. Derek parked a block away and walked up casually, as if he belonged there or something.
He circled around from the back and put his hand on the hood. Still warm.
He looked up, through the windshield, and Stiles was in the driver's seat staring at him, eyebrow cocked but surprised.
Derek felt his cheeks flush and he moved over to the driver's side window while Stiles made some movement inside with his clothes. Derek raised his eyebrow in response.
"How was your date?"
"Fine," Stiles replied through the window.
"I know I can hear you fine but that's rude," Derek replied, pointing to the glass. Stiles rolled his eyes and rolled down his window barely enough to stick a finger through.
"Better?" Stiles asked sarcastically, but his cheeks were getting redder by the second as well.
And then Derek could smell it.
"Seriously, Stiles?" he asked, exasperated. He tried not to look but couldn't help catching a glimpse of the jacket Stiles hastily threw into his lap.
"The date didn't go the way I wanted, okay!" Stiles fumed. "You can leave me in peace now!"
And Derek did, hightailed it back to his car and turned in the direction of the McCall house. He thought about pulling over and doing the same thing in a secluded area but he was going back to a house full of werewolves.
He could wait.
03.
How Derek got roped into this stupid party was beyond him.
"You should come, it'll be fun!"
"There'll be people there your age!"
"You can be the DD!"
It definitely wasn't fun, there were some people his age there but they were there with dates and he could be called if someone needed a ride home.
He kept an eye on the pack; the ‘wolves managed to get their hands on some wolfsbane infused liquor and he knew it would still burn off quicker than normal but he still worried. Lydia sipped at her wine and wouldn't let herself get out of control at this kind of party Derek knew. But Stiles.
Stiles didn't know how to pace himself and he flitted around the room like a damn butterfly, dancing and joking with everyone, regardless of whether he knew them or not. The rest of the pack laughed and shook their heads at him.
Derek watched.
After midnight Derek caught sight of Stiles and some guy, Derek didn't know if he was from Stiles' school or not, talking low and close in a corner. Stiles' cheeks were flushed bright red from the alcohol, his eyes glassy and his smile wide and wild. He nodded enthusiastically to something the other guy said into his ear and together they weaved through the party toward the stairs.
Derek forced himself to stay put where he was. It was of no concern to him what Stiles did or didn't do and with whom.
He lasted five minutes.
He used his hearing to track them down, their breathy whispers and light moans driving him a little mad when he located them behind the closed door to the upstairs bathroom.
He turned back but then heard Stiles groan, "Yeah, like that," and then he was knocking on the door and opening it, stumbling in like it was an accident.
"Damn, sor-Stiles?" Derek said, eyes going wide in fake shock. The other guy hastily grabbed his pants and pulled them up without so much as a "see you later" to Stiles, who looked dazed, then murderous. His pants were open and his cock hanging out, half-hard and on its way to full.
"You are a menace," Stiles said between gritted teeth. He pointed to the hallway. "Out! I'll finish this my own damn self!"
Derek backed out of the room without another word and closed the door soundly behind him. He waited in the hallway, listening while Stiles brought himself off and didn't grin when he caught the gasped, "Fuck you, Derek" when he came.
The ride home was awkward.
04.
Derek knew it was a risk to go to the locker room at the high school when he needed to talk to the pack but sometimes it was the only option he had when he needed to make a point. And sometimes Scott called him there himself.
Today it was neither.
It was lacrosse practice day. Sometimes Derek showed up to watch from the woods, checking out how the team was going. This was totally innocent.
Stiles got a little too chatty during practice (so surprising!) and Finstock held him back to do suicides after the rest of the team was dismissed. Derek expected Stiles to protest and whine the whole time but he actually did them without complaint and well.
When the pressure wasn't on him Stiles wasn't half bad with physical stuff, Derek decided.
It made him late to shower and by the time he was in the locker room the rest of the team were finishing up and on their way out for the afternoon. Derek heard Stiles tell Scott he'd call him later and then the locker room was silent, except for the shower running.
Derek moved quietly and peered around a bank of lockers that he knew from memory had a great view into the shower area. Stiles standing with his back to Derek, water sluicing over his pert ass. Stiles rolled his shoulders a few times, letting the heat sink in, then he tipped his head back and groaned.
The sound went straight to Derek's dick and he gripped the edge of the lockers tightly. He let his eyes roam down Stiles' body and he realized Stiles' right hand was moving like he was -
Stiles turned around and slumped against the wall and yes, he was jerking off.
Derek bit his lip to keep his growl in while he watched Stiles' long fingers wrap around himself and stroke, using some shampoo as lube it looked like. His other hand fingered his own nipples, going back and forth between them until they looked incredibly tight and hard under his ministrations.
Derek watched while he got harder in his own pants and his eyes damn-near glazed over. He watched Stiles as his hand moved faster and he dropped his other hand to pull at his balls, trying to get this over with quicker.
It didn't take long before he was coming against his stomach, jerking his way through it with gasps and tired-sounding moans. When he was done he ran his hand down and wiped himself off into the drains and Derek wanted to weep.
He left then, not sure he would be able to hold himself back much longer.
He didn't get very far into the woods before he was pushing his jeans open and jerking one out with the image of a wet, lithe Stiles in his head.
05.
Sure, a pack camping trip was a great idea.
Scott wanted to bond and have a good memory to start college with. In theory it was a great idea. No one even bitched.
Course, no one else was stupid enough to set their tent up next to Stiles and be forced to listen to him get himself off at least twice a nice for each of the three nights they were in the woods together.
All during the whole trip Derek caught Stiles watching him and maybe... flirting? It seemed like he would give Derek looks, would lick his lips or make a show of drawing attention to his mouth in general, which wasn't hard considering how much he talked.
But at night it was much more difficult for Derek to be forced to lay in his tent and not retaliate with his own breathy moans and slapslapslap sound of his hand working his cock.
On the last night Derek was sure he heard Stiles breathe his name, whisper out a plaintive Derek before coming.
It had to be the fresh mountain air or something.
Right.
+ 01.
"Yeah, Scott. I'll be there soon. I wanted to double check something in one of Derek's books before I forget about it and we're all wishing we knew how to get rid of kelpies. ... Well I know we haven't yet but won't you be happier knowing we can?"
Stiles didn't bother knocking before he opened the door to Derek's loft. He would have had to gone blind and deaf to not know Stiles was on his way up and he wasn't exactly aiming for stealth.
He kept the phone to his ear, listening to Scott go on about the possible movie options for the pack night, and actually made it about halfway across the floor in the loft before he stopped dead, mind going blank.
Derek was kneeling on his bed, totally naked. He was stroking his cock and staring at Stiles without looking away, challenging him.
Stiles fish-mouthed while Scott's words fell on his suddenly-deaf ears. He turned on his heel and started back for the door.
"Hey Scotty? Something's come up-um, I mean. Ha! I won't be able to make it tonight, okay? Sorry, really sorry. But there's something I just realized I have to look into very extensively right now. Totally personal."
Stiles ended the call while Scott was still talking and grinned at the sound of Derek growling softly at him while he closed and locked the loft door with a resounding click.