Teen Wolf ficlet: Drowning Man (Stiles x Dale Cooper, Sterek at heart)

[the_diggler]

Title: Drowning Man {from tumblr, also at AO3}
Rating: non-explicit NC-17 / Mature
Pairings: Stiles x Dale Cooper, Sterek at heart.
Genre: RPF crossover, post season 4 future!fic, angst, slight H/C, sexual content, outside POV
Warnings/Spoilers: implied spoilers for end of season 4, references to porn/sex industry work
Word Count: 505
Summary: Stiles goes to New York looking for Derek, and finds Derek's pornstar lookalike instead.
Author's Notes: IDK where this came from. Maybe trying to deal with Tyler Hoechlin's departure by watching too much porn :s
Disclaimer: Teen Wolf ain't mine!



~

Dale meets Stiles in a bar outside of Jersey, a low-key but reputable place where he and some other guys from CockyBoys have gone to grab a few drinks after wrapping up a shoot. Stiles is bleary-eyed and nearly face-down in his drink, but when he looks up, his gaze sharpens in a way that sends a frisson of heat down Dale’s spine.

Now, Dale is used to men – and even women – doing a double-take when they see him, watching him with veiled appreciation, or even openly leering. It’s just what happens when you’re a moderately well-known pornstar. You get recognized. But that’s not what the look in Stiles’ eyes is. It’s something else entirely. Something haunted, and lost. Something broken, but beautiful. He’s gorgeous.

Stiles watches him all night. And Dale… Dale can’t help but watch him back. He just can’t seem to look away for very long, gaze returning again, and again. Until finally, he finds himself moving, his body drawn of its own volition, reeled in by those whiskey-dark eyes.

“Can I buy you a drink?” he hears himself say. And distantly he’s aware that it’s usually the other way around. Usually, it’s the other guy approaching him, plying him with drinks and cheesy lines, hoping to impress him enough to get him into bed. Any chance to fuck a pornstar. But Dale thinks he’d do anything for a taste of that deep well of something in Stiles’ eyes. They’ve barely introduced themselves before Dale is saying, “You wanna get out of here?”

They go back to Stiles’ place, a small, barely lived-in apartment, devoid of any sense of personality or permanence. There’s something transient about it, temporary, just somewhere to hole up while searching for something… else. The bed however, is incongruously large, big enough for two grown men, but far too much empty space for a lone person. It’s heartbreaking. So even though Dale’s still a little sore from his threesome scene earlier that day, he spreads his legs, and lets Stiles take him.

Stiles is careful with him at first, hands shaking with a tentativeness that feels like tenderness, savoring the moonlight on Dale’s skin. But his movements soon become desperate, driving, his gasps sounding like sobs as he clings to Dale like a drowning man. All Dale can do is hold onto to him, hold him together, until he comes apart in Dale’s arms.

It’s like nothing Dale’s ever experienced before.

And he keeps coming back for more.

He doesn’t know who Derek is, or what he was to Stiles. He only hears the name, whispered into his hair when Stiles comes, mumbled in Stiles’ sleep or cried out in the middle of some nightmare. And when Stiles traces the tattoo on his back with his fingers, he can feel that the swirls and shapes Stiles makes are too large for the ankh that’s actually there.

But Dale doesn’t care. He’ll take what he can get. As long as Stiles keeps looking at him like he loves him.

~ fin