The Five Flavors of Derek Hale
Title: The Five Flavors of Derek Hale
Pairing: Sterek
Rating: NC-17
Summary: A range of flavors displayed by Derek Hale, from Sourwolf to Saltywolf and all things in between.
Word Count: 6818
A/N: This is a charity fic written for socchan, who asked me to write the 5 flavors of Derek Hale.
On AO3
Sourwolf
It’s Stiles’ first time home since leaving for college. It’s a short break, not even a full week off for Thanksgiving, but it’s nice to go home and see his dad and Scott and Mrs. McCall and all his friends in Beacon Hills. The only person he saw on a somewhat regular basis while at school was Lydia, because she’s a genius and was accepted at Harvard. Stiles chose Boston College, because they gave him nearly a free ride to school and it gave him the chance to experience the East Coast. And even though it takes a few line switches on the T, they make it a point to meet up for lunch, coffee, ice cream or whatever else they’re in the mood for every Saturday.
So, now he’s home and helping Mrs. McCall prepare their Thanksgiving dinner. He’s made sure there are lots of veggies to go along with the mass amounts of potatoes and gravy his dad is sure to load up on his plate.
Dinner goes over smoothly. Everyone’s able to catch up on one another’s lives, they all eat until they need to pop open the buttons on their jeans and then they watch football.
It’s not until the following day that things get… weird. He sees Derek for the first time since getting back to town. And Derek is blatantly avoiding him.
The whole pack is together for the first time in months and Derek is about as far away from Stiles as he can be while still in the same room.
He doesn’t look like he even wants to be in the same room.
That guy needs to learn some social skills.
“Hey, Sourwolf, what crawled up your ass and died?” Stiles finally asks, because he thought they were friends and had moved past that whole I don’t like you but you’re surprisingly useful when you want to be and we do kind of need each other so I’ll keep you around phase, like, junior year of high school.
Derek leaves the room.
“What the fuck?” Stiles mutters, but the moment passes and he’s back to talking with his friends.
~~~
Bitterwolf
The next time Stiles comes home, it’s for winter break. His first semester of college is over and he’s home for a solid six weeks. He already has plans to do a whole lot of nothing, and it’s going to be awesome.
So, he and Scott do just that for days. They do nothing but play video games and eat frozen pizza and Bagel Bites. Stiles knew he’d be right, it is awesome.
After an epic four night sleepover, Scott and Stiles finally emerge from Stiles’ house. Stiles nearly makes a quip about thinking they’d been turned into vampires since they haven’t seen the sunlight in so long, but for once in his life, he thinks before he speaks. He doesn’t want to jinx them. They really don’t need vampires in Beacon Hills, too. They really, really don’t.
Their afternoon is spent at a Chinese buffet with the rest of the pack. It’s the first time that Stiles has seen Derek since the whole day after Thanksgiving incident. Derek is having no trouble talking to Isaac and Erica. At the opposite end of the table.
He doesn’t get it. He doesn’t know what he did to piss Derek off, or bring Derek to completely, blatantly avoid him. Because he’s being blatantly avoided.
While he chatters away to Scott about nothing in particular, he thinks about what he possibly could have done to Derek. He comes up blank. He’s got absolutely no clue. It’s bugging the shit out of him. Is he upset that he went so far away for college? That doesn’t make any sense, because even though he’s part of the pack, it’s not like he’s one of the betas. He’s just the research guy. And even when he’s gone, he can still do research.
Maybe while he was gone, Derek came to some realization, some great epiphany, that he just doesn’t like Stiles. That seems most plausible. Stiles had been somewhat forced upon Derek. He came with Scott. So Derek had just gotten used to Stiles being there all that time, and now that he’s back after being away for months, he’s realized that he likes life better without Stiles in it.
He really hopes it’s not that one. They still talked a little while Stiles was away, including a whole series of text messages where Stiles teased Derek about not scaring any trick-or-treaters while all wolfed out on Halloween. He and Derek texted back and forth all day that day.
So, maybe it’s not that one.
But what the hell can it be?
“Stiles?” Scott asks, trying to get his friend’s attention when he abruptly trailed off in the middle of a sentence.
It’s only then that Stiles finds out he’d drifted away for a moment. “Sorry,” he says. “Where was I?”
“Apparently in the middle of a daydream,” Scott replies. “Are you ok?”
Stiles looks over towards Derek, whose eyes narrow at him slightly before he turns his head completely away to face Erica. What the fuck?
“Yeah. It’s… fine.”
Scott knows he’s lying, but doesn’t push it. At least not until they’ve left the restaurant and are able to talk one on one without any of the others with freaky supernatural wolf hearing are around. So, once again Scott asks, “Are you ok?”
Stiles flails his hands a bit, runs his hands through his hair, then shoves them in his pockets, all before speaking. “What the fuck is going on with Derek?”
“Derek?”
“Yeah, Derek! He hasn’t spoken a word to me since I got home. Same for over Thanksgiving break when we were all hanging out together. He hardly even looked at me. Dude, what did I do?”
Scott shrugs. “I dunno. He hasn’t said anything, really.”
“Has he… mentioned me at all while I was gone?”
“Once in a while,” he answers.
“Ok, then.”
The following day, he makes it a point to talk to Derek. So, he goes to the Hale property, which has come quite a ways in its renovation. The Camaro is parked out front, so, Derek’s home. There’s no avoiding him today. He can try, but it’s not going to happen. Stiles take sit easy at first, giving a quick series of knocks on the front door.
Nothing.
That’s ok, though. Stiles was expecting that. He knocks louder this time, a bit more persistently. He also yells out, “Derek! I know you’re in there!”
Still nothing.
He leaves the door and walks towards the Camaro. “Derek, get out here now or I will key the shit out of your car!”
That does seem to get Derek’s attention, because he’s out there in a matter of seconds. “What?”
“You’re asking me what? Really? That’s rich, Derek.”
Derek actually looks mildly ashamed. Good.
“So, Derek, what the hell?” When Derek doesn’t answer, and actually goes from mildly ashamed to annoyed and pissed off, Stiles rolls his eyes. “Don’t even try and pretend that you’re not acting all weird. I know you go for the broody stalker look more often than not, but I’ve known you for going on four years now and it was only the first half of that where you were this extreme in your brooding.”
“You smell,” Derek then says.
Stiles’ eyes go wide, then he tilts his head to the side as he looks at Derek. “I smell? Dude, what? I showered this morning, and I’m pretty sure I remembered deodorant today, too.” He sniffs his underarms and nods, because, yup, he remembered deodorant. “Besides, you’ve smelled me after lacrosse practice and that’s when I’m at my worst. Believe me. And, I’m pretty sure you’ve smelled the inside of my lacrosse bag. Even I think it’s pretty rank and I don’t have some super sniffer.”
“No, you smell funny.”
“Gee, thanks,” Stiles mutters. “I don’t think I smell any different now than I did last year.”
“You do,” Derek tells him, trying to not grind his teeth together the longer he stands near Stiles.
“Then what exactly do I smell like?” Again, Derek goes back into deathly silence mode. “You are fucking ridiculous.”
“You smell like someone else. And before you say it,” he goes on when Stiles opens his mouth, “it’s not Scott.”
“Well, I’m surrounded by a whole new group of people in Boston, ya know.”
And that makes Derek’s lips go into a thin little line. “I know. And one guy’s scent is all over you. It’s on your skin, on your clothes… his scent is all over you. It’s like it’s part of your scent now,” he growls.
Stiles has seen Derek angry before, but seeing him now? He looks hurt and upset and jealous and bitter all at once. “That’s really your biggest problem with me?”
“Why didn’t you just say you were fucking someone else, Stiles?” Derek spits out before turning on his heel and walking away, back into the house.
Standing there in absolute shock, Stiles is actually speechless. He’s never speechless. And he’s also confused. He’s confused far more often than he is speechless, though, so that’s not a new thing. Slowly, he starts fitting pieces together.
Derek is upset because Stiles smells like someone else. Someone whose scent is all over him and his stuff. Someone Derek thinks he’s fucking. Only, he’s not fucking anyone. But he’s living in a dorm room with his roommate Paul. The room is about the size of a prison cell, so they’re in very close quarters and their scents would most likely infiltrate one another’s clothes. He’s totally heard Paul jerking off at about three in the morning, so there’s definitely jizz scent floating around their room. And, since Derek has never met Paul, he doesn’t know what he smells like. So… because he smells like Paul, Derek thinks he’s sleeping with Paul and he’s angry that Stiles is getting laid.
No, he’s angry that Stiles is fucking someone else, Derek’s exact words. So, he’s upset he’s fucking someone else, that someone being Paul. Someone else meaning… meaning not Derek?
“Holy shit,” Stiles says aloud, because he gets it. At least he thinks he may get it? He stays where he is, knowing that Derek can hear him if were to speak. So, he yells, “I’m not actually sleeping with anyone, Derek! Besides, my roommate’s straight!”
With that, he leaves, letting Derek mull that little tidbit of information over.
~~~
Savorywolf
When his phone pings three days after his whole Derek Hale Encounter, Stiles is rather surprised to see it’s a text from Derek. It reads, come over tonight. 6. So, it’s not much, but it’s some form of contact, more than he had had from Derek since the whole thing over Thanksgiving break last month.
He texts his affirmation back, wondering what Derek has planned.
When he’s getting ready to leave, his dad stops him to ask where he’s going.
Since his dad found out about the whole werewolf thing, he hasn’t had to lie to his dad, but he also doesn’t know if his dad will approve of a one on one meeting with Derek. So, he says, “It’s a pack thing.” Because, well, it kind of is. Derek is the alpha, he’s part of the pack. Pack thing.
“Have fun,” his Dad says, raiding the fridge.
Before heading out, Stiles tells him, “There’s some leftovers from last night’s dinner in there. Top shelf.” He knows his dad is grimacing, because last night’s dinner involved Brussels sprouts. Part of him is wondering if, once he leaves the house, his dad will actually eat said leftovers.
He gets to Derek’s at 6:05, and he’s pretty sure he can hear Derek pacing inside even without super hearing. Walking up the steps and to the door, he takes a breath before knocking. Only, he doesn’t have the chance to knock because the door is already opened. “I didn’t think you were coming.”
“Dude, I’m five minutes late,” he says, walking past Derek and into the house. Which smells amazing. And there’s sizzling noises, like something’s cooking on the stove.
Which means… Derek’s cooking.
Derek is cooking. Derek can cook?
“So,” Stiles says, because Derek hasn’t said a word, because he’s gone and left Stiles standing alone in the entryway while he’s headed back to the kitchen, “did you marathon Food Network all day to learn how to do this?”
“No,” Derek replies, turning over the steaks so they brown evenly.
“Is that a sauté pan?” Stiles asks, pointing to what is clearly a sauté pan filled with veggies.
“Yes,” Derek answers.
“I had no idea you even knew how to turn on an oven,” Stiles tells him.
“Thank you for your vote of confidence. I do eat more than dry cereal and takeout, you know.”
“I guess now I do. Learn something new everyday, right?” Stiles stops talking for a brief moment as a thought occurs to him. “Does that mean you can make breakfast?”
“What?”
“Breakfast. You know, bacon, hash browns, pancakes, scrambled eggs, fried eggs, eggs over easy and so on and so forth?”
“I can even poach an egg,” Derek says.
“Oh my god,” Stiles practically moans, “I’m coming here for breakfast. It’s only the best meal of the day.”
“Oh,” Derek says quietly and goes back to cooking dinner... not breakfast, which apparently Stiles would have preferred.
“But I bet your dinner will be amazing, too!” he’s quick to amend when it seems like he’s hurt Derek’s feelings a little. And it’s really only then that it truly hits Stiles that Derek is cooking dinner for the both of them. God, he’s an idiot sometimes.
Stiles is now rocking back onto his heels, staring at Derek rather aptly moving around the kitchen, seasoning the food he’s got on the stove while moving the pans around so nothing sticks. “So, uh, what’s the occasion?”
Derek frowns, looking down into the veggies.
“Derek?” Stiles moves closer. “Is this an ‘I’m sorry I was a total dick’ dinner? Is this an apology dinner? Are you apologizing? Are you apologizing?” Then he pauses and asks, “Are you apologizing?”
“Yes, Stiles. I’m apologizing.”
“Goddamn, if I knew you’d cook me a steak every time you were sorry about something, I’d have made up a fuckbuddy story ages ago.”
And that makes Derek clam up again and turn all his attention to the food he’s preparing.
It’s just a few minutes later that everything is plated and placed on the table. The start of the meal is kind of awkward. It’s just the two of them and neither of them is used to that. Generally, where there’s Stiles, there’s Scott, and when there’s Derek there’s his creepy uncle, little sister or the betas.
So, just the two of them is unusual.
But it’s not bad. Quiet, but not bad.
At least it’s quiet until Stiles can’t actually stand it any longer. He cuts into his steak and takes a bite. It’s really good. “So, do werewolves just know how to best cook a steak?” he asks.
Derek raises an eyebrow at him. “No, Stiles. Werewolves prefer their meat raw.”
Stiles doesn’t actually know if he’s joking. He could be, but at the same time, he may not be. “Interesting.”
“I learned from my mom. Then when Laura and I were on our own we did a lot of messing around in the kitchen.”
“Ohh.” Stiles figures that’s probably enough of that topic. But not before he adds, “This is really good.”
“Thanks.”
The next topic that Stiles moves onto, while shoving the sautéed veggies into his mouth, is one that probably should have waited until they were done eating so at least if Derek threw him out, he’d have finished his entire meal first. But Stiles has never been very good at waiting. “When you said ‘someone else,’ what exactly were you implying?” he asks.
Derek freezes. When he unfreezes, he cuts furiously into his steak and doesn’t look at Stiles.
“Because I’m pretty sure you heard what I said after your little temper tantrum, didn’t you?”
Still, Derek says nothing. He does stop cutting his poor unsuspecting steak, though. And then he nods just slightly.
“My roommate’s name is Paul. We sleep in the same room every single night. All our stuff is in that room. And that room we share is about the size of your bathroom, so if our scents are all over each other, that’s why. No other reason than that. I’m not screwing around with him or with anyone.”
Finally, Derek speaks, “But isn’t that what you’re supposed to do in college?”
“Well, I’m not saying I wouldn’t, but there’s just no one there I’ve been interested in.” He shrugs. “Mainly because there’s someone else.”
“Oh.”
Stiles takes his final bite of steak, and it’s just as good as the first. “Yeah. I just never thought the interest was mutual.”
“Oh?” Derek looks up from his plate to see that Stiles is already standing, apparently ready to head out, so he follows.
He heads towards the door, ready to leave. “Turns out, I may have been wrong about that, and it was a mutual thing the whole time.”
“Oh,” Derek breaths out, close to Stiles.
Stiles takes this opportunity to lean forward and press his lips to Derek. Only Derek ducks his head, not knowing that Stiles was attempting to kiss him and Stiles manages to plant one right on Derek’s eyelid.
It’s kind of awkward. Stiles is completely embarrassed, because of course he’d screw up kissing. So, before Derek can say anything, he leaves. He gets back into his Jeep and leaves and Derek doesn’t stop him. “Real smooth, Stilinski. Goddammit,” he mutters as he drives off.
He thinks it’s going to be one of those moments where neither of them speak of it again. But, as he’s getting ready for bed that night he gets a text from Derek that reads, The feelings are mutual.
He can’t even imagine what it took for Derek to send that text, but now he knows for sure. And the next time he kisses Derek, it’s going to be a proper kiss. No way he’s missing his mark next time.
~~~
Saltywolf
The following afternoon, Stiles makes it a point to go to Derek’s. Because after the dinner and the text and the horribly failed kiss attempt, he needs to see him again. There’s just no way he can leave that kind of door wide open and not take a step inside.
“Where are you off to today?” Stiles’ dad asks when he finally emerges from his bedroom around noon, completely dressed.
“Pack stuff,” he answers. Again, it’s not a lie. It’s still not the whole truth, mainly because he doesn’t want to tell his dad he’s planning on seeing Derek so he can stick his tongue down his throat.
“Have fun.”
“Later, Dad!” he says with a wave, then heads out.
Once again, Derek seems to be expecting him, because the door is open by the time he gets to the first step. “Stiles?”
“Heyyy, Derek,” he greets, leaning against the doorframe. “So, about last night.” At Derek’s raised eyebrow, he continues on. “It was really good. Thank you. And, uh, about that whole,” Stiles waves his hands around a bit, “kiss thing.” Derek’s other eyebrow goes up. “I didn’t mean to, you know, miss.” Stiles looks sheepish at the memory. He’s always imagined his and Derek’s first kiss would involve a lot more tongue and a lot less eyeball.
“Oh?” Derek asks and Stiles tells him what he was just thinking, of first kiss fantasies. Derek stands there for a bit, looking at Stiles the whole time. “You’ve thought about it a lot?” he finally asks.
“So much,” Stiles answers. “Like, daily. Multiple times a day. Pretty much since I met you.”
“Stiles, that was…”
“Three years ago? Yeah, I know. Let’s just say I’m good at long term crushing. I mean, I’ve been dreaming about kissing Lydia Martin since third grade. I can wait things out.”
“Well,” Derek says after a moment taking it all in, “it wasn’t really our first kiss, was it?”
“No?”
Derek steps closer. “No, not really. Would you consider kissing someone on their cheek a real kiss?” Derek asks and Stiles shakes his head. “So, maybe this should be the one that counts.” This is so unlike him, but Derek is emboldened by the fact that Stiles actually thinks about him, about them kissing and probably a whole lot more. He cups Stiles’ cheek and leans his head down just the slightest bit to meet Stiles’ lips with his own. He hears Stiles gasp as their lips meet and thinks that he wants to hear that more often.
Stiles’ hands find their way to Derek’s hips and settle there, though his thumbs brush up under Derek’s shirt. Neither of them are complaining about that. The kiss is fairly brief, but it’s good. So good. “That was the best kiss I’ve ever had,” Stiles says.
“Well, it was better than last night’s,” Derek teases.
“Ah, he does have a sense of humor,” Stiles mutters, but he knows that Derek can hear it. “But, yeah, so much better. Like the kind of better that makes me think we should do that again. And often. And maybe right now?”
“We can do that,” Derek agrees, pulling Stiles into the house, shutting the door behind him. “Couch?” he asks.
“Don’t care,” Stiles replies. “As long as we keep doing this.”
They do keep doing that, making out on the couch, and this is a lot more like what Stiles experienced in his dreams. Only better. Derek’s tongue is in his mouth and his body is solid and moving just slightly over his. There’s less nudity than in the dreams, but they’ll get there eventually. Right? In a break for air, Stiles asks, “Getting naked will be something we do right?”
“If you want,” Derek answers.
“Uh, yeah, I want that. You’ve seen you right?” He starts kissing Derek again before he can actually see him rolling his eyes. And then he stops once his phone starts buzzing in his pocket. When he checks his texts, he sighs. “Shit, I forgot I was hanging out with Scott today. Allison and Lydia are having some girly pampering day or something.” He really doesn’t want to. It’d be his revenge on all those times Scott ditched him for Allison. But, he’s also the best best friend ever, and he doesn’t want to give that title up.
“Go. Have fun with Scott,” Derek tells him when he can see the reluctance on Stiles’ face. “I’ll still be here.”
“Ok. As long as next time, you’re here naked.”
“I may be able to work something out,” Derek says.
Stiles smiles and gives Derek a kiss that’s probably longer and possibly deeper than most see you later kisses, but he doesn’t care.
Stiles is giddy the entire day with Scott. Giddy to the point where Scott actually wins at Mario Kart. “Dude, you ok?” Scott asks.
“Yeah,” Stiles agrees in a sigh, thinking about nothing but kissing Derek.
It takes Scott a moment, but he knows that sigh. It’s his mooning over Lydia sigh. “Stiles, are you mooning?” he asks.
“Huh? What? No!” Stiles denies. Then, “Maybe?”
“Maybe? I thought you’d given up on Lydia?”
“Lydia? Oh, uh, yeah… it’s not Lydia,” Stiles confesses because he’s really bad at keeping anything from Scott. Honestly, he’s surprised he can’t smell Derek all over him.
“Wait, it’s not? Stiles, are you seeing someone?” Scott asks.
“Maybe?” he answers. Because they’re not… dating. They’re not even sleeping together, so they’re not fuckbuddies either. “It’s a new development.”
Scott sniffs the air, really focusing on Stiles. “You… you smell a lot like Derek.” And then there’s that little spike of something at the mention of Derek’s name. “You’re with Derek?!”
“I told you, it’s new. It’s… a new development,” he repeats.
“But you are seeing Derek? Derek?” Scott asks.
“Well, I mean, yeah? I guess.”
“As of when?”
“Like, last night?” Stiles answers. “I mean, the attraction’s been there for years, but it wasn’t until recent discoveries wherein I found out Derek was, in turn, attracted to me, that anything was done about said attraction.”
“Years?”
“Uh, yeah, Derek’s pretty hot, dude,” Stiles says, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. Which it really should be. They’ve all seen him shirtless, after all.
“So, is that why you smell more like him than usual?”
“Probably… I was, uh, kind of just there.”
“Oh my god, is that why you were late? You and Derek were… were…” Scott waves his hands in a very Stiles like manner, and Stiles cuts him off before Scott begins making crude hand gestures.
“I haven’t even seen his dick yet, so, no, we weren’t doing what you think we were doing. Anyway,” Stiles starts, changing the subject, “now that that’s out there, ready to get your ass handed to you in Mario Kart?”
“Think you can stop pining long enough for that to happen?”
“Hey! Fuck you, dude,” Stiles says with a smirk. He kicks Scott’s ass easily.
A few hours go by before Scott gets a text from Allison, saying that she and Lydia are done with their girly day and did he want to go out to dinner somewhere? “So, Allison asked me to dinner,” Scott says, just as the two of them were browsing various takeout menus.
“Dude, it’s cool. She just spent the whole day with Lydia doing whatever it is girls do to look pretty. So she probably looks extra hot tonight.”
“You think so?”
“Yes. Don’t worry about me. I’ll just… go to Derek’s,” Stiles says with a grin.
“Oh, god… am I gonna have to hear all about your first time tomorrow?” Scott asks.
Stiles smirks. “Turnabout’s fair play, right? See ya later, buddy,” he says before heading out. He gets in his Jeep and sends a text off to Derek, telling him that he’ll be there in a few and that he’ll have food with him. He then scans through his contacts to see what takeout numbers he has stored in his phone. He decides on Chinese.
A few minutes later, he’s pulling up to Derek’s house, brown paper bag filled with their dinner in the passenger seat. He walks up to the door, actually able to knock this time, before Derek opens it. “You brought food?” Derek asks.
“Good to see you, too. But, yeah, food. Figured it was my turn to provide dinner.”
Derek shrugs and sets the bags down right in front of the couch. Stiles kicks off his shoes and settles down on the couch while Derek grabs some paper towels, because it’s a brand new couch and Stiles is not going to leave a chow mein stain on it. They eat right out of the cartons, Stiles even feeding Derek a piece of teriyaki chicken. Derek doesn’t even pretend to be annoyed.
Once they finish, Stiles chews his bottom lip for a moment. “I can tell my dad I’m spending the night at Scott’s.”
“You were planning on spending the night?” Derek asks, raising an eyebrow.
“Uh, well, I mean… Scott’s busy with Allison and I don’t have any plans or anything… Oh, unless you don’t want me to stay over?” Stiles asks. “Because I definitely don’t have to. God, did I just make things awkward?”
Derek chuckles. “I did promise you that next time we saw each other, I’d be naked.”
“Does that mean you’re going to get naked? Like, tonight? With me? Because I support that idea. I’d make campaign stickers if I could.”
Derek takes a couple steps closer, until he’s face to face with Stiles, their bodies pressed together. “That probably wouldn’t be your best idea.”
Stiles shakes his head. “No, probably not. But I think this would be a far better idea,” he says before tilting his head just enough to press his lips to Derek’s. Yeah, it’s a really good idea.
Derek is leading Stiles, walking him forwards as he walks backwards, finding the stairs and making their way up while trying not to separate. As soon as they’re behind Derek’s bedroom door, though, they do part. Momentarily. While they strip one another of their clothing.
Once divested of their shirts and Derek with his fly pulled down, Stiles does actually take a step back, just to appreciate. Derek is cut like a marble statue. Only better, because he’s living and breathing and so close that Stiles can touch him. He lets a hand trail over Derek’s abs, feeling the muscles move under his hand.
“Your heartbeat is going crazy,” Derek tells him.
“Yeah, I noticed,” Stiles replies in a breath, staring at his fingertips as they trace over Derek’s abdomen. There’s still part of his brain that doesn’t believe that he’s actually touching Derek right now, but he’s determined to keep touching until that part of his brain catches up with the rest of him.
Derek lets him touch for a while, then he takes Stiles’ hand and moves it to his hip before pulling Stiles in close to kiss him again, his hands grabbing Stiles’ ass through his jeans. He really likes the noises that Stiles makes into his mouth.
Stiles is actually the one to break the kiss, shaking his head just slightly. “You’re not naked enough.”
“I think that can be solved easily enough,” Derek says just before he pushes his jeans and boxer briefs down to the floor in one fluid motion that would have Stiles jealous of his smoothness if he hadn’t gone a little slack jawed at the sight.
It’s one thing to see attractive naked men fucking each other on the various porn sites he frequents, but it’s a completely different and infinitely better experience seeing an attractive naked man right in front of him, who he will hopefully be fucking at some point in the near future. He chuckles a little in disbelief, then asks, “If I said you had a beautiful body, would you hold it against me? Seriously, though, like, all the time?”
With a little grin, Derek steps forward, closing the gap between them, and presses his body against Stiles’. He kisses the corner of his mouth, then up his jaw until he can nibble briefly on Stiles’ earlobe. “I don’t think you’re naked enough, either,” he whispers.
“That can be arranged,” Stiles says. He tries to undo his jeans, he really does, but there’s just something about seeing Derek naked and hard right in front of him that makes him lose all basic motor skills.
“I can take care of that,” Derek tells him, pushing him back until his legs hit the mattress. He slides his hands down and around, popping the button of Stiles’ jeans before unzipping the fly. He hesitates just a moment with his hands over the edge of his pants and boxers, and when he sees Stiles glancing downwards, then back up at him a couple times over, he finally pushes them both down over his hips, letting them pool onto the floor. “Sit down,” he says, pushing gently on Stiles’ chest.
Stiles sits and watches as Derek kneels down in front of him, peeling off his socks and tossing them, along with his boxers and jeans to the side. That’s when Derek takes his moment to appreciate Stiles. His body is pale, dotted in moles and freckles, lean and muscled and the trail of hair on his lower abdomen leads right down to an erect cock, jutting out from a patch of hair. He leans his head in and sniffs. Stiles can feel his face burning because he can’t imagine what he smells like right now, right there.
And then Derek licks his cock and all other thoughts go out the window. He can’t actually think of anything aside from the fact that Derek is licking his cock and that it feels really nice and that Derek should keep on doing just that.
Derek lets his hands run over Stiles’ thighs, just for a brief moment, before gripping them, moving his head so his mouth can take in the head of Stiles’ cock.
“Can I-” Stiles starts, but stops to suck in a breath as Derek flicks and swirls his tongue just so. Derek looks up, meets Stiles’ eyes and nods without even hearing the question. Stiles can do whatever he wants. When he feels Stiles’ hands both settling on his head, he smiles.
He continues to lick and suck at the head, and soon he hears Stiles making more of those wonderful noises. Those noises are clearly ones of pleasure and it encourages him along as he lowers his head some more. Stiles’ hands tighten in his hair a little as he takes more into his mouth, and Derek can hear and smell just how much Stiles is really enjoying this.
Breathing in deeply through his nose, Derek sinks lower, wanting so badly to bury his nose in that patch of hair surrounding Stiles’ cock. But he’ll have to work towards that, because as much as Stiles is new to getting blowjobs, he’s brand new to giving them. As it is, he bobs his head up and down, dragging his tongue up the underside, swirling it around the tip. Stiles whimpers, which he claims he has never done. Though he also admits that he’s come to realize his brain to mouth filter is ever more off during sex than it usually is, so he can’t be held responsible for anything he says or any of the sounds he makes.
But Derek hears Stiles whimper and it encourages him, because Stiles is actually enjoying this, enjoying him. He slides one of his hands up Stiles’ leg and as he sucks, he lets his fingers just barely tease over Stiles’ balls.
That gets him an, “Oh, God, Derek,” and Stiles’ hands ball into fists. “Derek, Derek,” Stiles repeats, “I can’t, oh my god, Derek,” he groans.
He wants to swallow everything down, feel Stiles’ cum as it slides down his throat… but part of him, the wolf in him, wants Stiles to cover him, for his scent to soak into his skin. It’s at the very last second that Derek pulls back, and Stiles comes on his lips and nose and cheeks. Turning his head upward, he sees Stiles gaping at him. “Oh my god,” Stiles says, brushing a thumb over Derek’s cheek, rubbing off some of his cum. Derek brings his own hand up, covering Stiles’, and gently guides his thumb to his mouth. When he sucks Stiles’ thumb into his mouth, Stiles lets out a little choked sound, because he knows that Derek is tasting him right now. That and it feels good, even though it probably shouldn’t.
“Derek, you better get the fuck up here right now so I can return the favor,” he says once his thumb has been thoroughly licked clean.
Derek stands, kissing Stiles as he leans them both back onto the bed. Their bodies fit together perfectly, and Stiles’ hand finds Derek’s cock, wraps around and begins to stroke.
~~~
Sweetwolf
After forgetting to call his dad that night he spent at Derek’s, and having it confirmed by Melissa that he did not actually spend the night with the McCalls, Stiles is kept on a bit of a tighter leash for a while. Not that anyone can really tell Stiles what to do, but he tries to at least appease his father somewhat. He still feels guilty about lying to him for years. Though he does feel that he wasn’t lying that day he went to Derek’s, because that was pack stuff. It was two members of the pack, minor technicalities.
Christmas comes and goes, and Stiles celebrates with his dad and Scott and his mom. It’s never really a huge thing for them, it’s really just like Thanksgiving but with a gift exchange.
Stiles doesn’t have a chance to see much of the pack outside of Scott for a while, not until New Years. Derek doesn’t host a party, he just insists that it’s a pack gathering that happens to fall on a holiday. All their friends are there, there’s food, including specialty cupcakes as Lydia calls them, and Scott brought hats. So it’s got all the basics of a party. Derek just won’t call it a party. Even though it is.
They all talk, laugh, joke, eat and play Apples to Apples. Derek doesn’t really get the whole Apples to Apples concept, but he gets to sit right next to Stiles there on the floor, their legs pressing up together as Stiles attempted to explain the game to him for a third time.
“See, you put the green card out, so now you have to pick which red card you think works best with the green card,” Stiles says.
The word on the green card is “smelly”, and Derek is actually kind of nervous when he takes the pile of red cards. He flips them over one by one and reads them out loud. “Demi Moore?” That gets a raised eyebrow. “Monkeys?” That gets a nod, because monkeys can get really smelly. “Werewolves? Really Stiles?” he asks, turning his head to give Stiles the side-eye.
“Hey! Who said that was me?” He’s not making eye contact, though, and every werewolf in the place can hear his heart speed up. Damn them. “I thought it was funny, ok? And, you know, smelly doesn’t have to mean that you stink. Think about it, you’ve got super sniffers, so you’re always smelling things.” He gives Derek a smile and nods his head while elbowing him in the side.
Derek tosses the werewolf card to the side, not even considering it in his final choices.
“Hey! You suck.”
Derek ignores him and goes back to his reading of the red cards. The next one he flips over actually makes him chuckle. “Cow Pies,” he says between a few more chuckles. He flips over the next one and reads, “Betty White? That doesn’t even make sense.” There’s another raised brow at that one. “The Big Bang Theory.” He shakes his head a little in confusion at that one, then hears Erica murmur something about not having any good cards. “Taco Salad? Mayonnaise?” He really doesn’t understand this game. Then he flips the last one. “Giving birth.” He scrunches up his nose a little, because he doesn’t know if that’s smelly so much as it is… actually, yeah it’s probably a little smelly. But he knows his winner. “Cow pies,” he says, picking the winner.
“Yes!” Kira says, claiming the winning card as her own.
They continue to play for quite some time, until people start getting up for food and bathroom breaks.
Stiles packs the game up quickly before settling back down next to Derek, this time full on leaning bodily into him. “Are you having fun?” he asks, head resting on Derek’s shoulder.
“Yeah, I am,” he answers.
Stiles doesn’t need to have super wolf lie detector senses to know that Derek is telling the truth. “C’mon, get up,” Stiles says, nudging him before standing up. Derek gets up to his feet, not totally surprised when Stiles’ hand finds its way into his. He leads Derek over to the plate of cupcakes. “So, tell me, what kinds do we have here? But seriously. I have no idea what the hell I’m looking at.”
“Umm, I think that’s red velvet?” Derek says, pointing to the one that’s clearly a red cake.
Lydia is upon them in seconds after that comment, identifying all the various kinds of cupcakes on display.
“So you mean to tell me someone took the contents of a Snickers and put them inside a cupcake?” Stiles asks.
“Yes,” Lydia answers.
“Who is this genius?” Stiles says, grabbing one of the cakes, peeling off the wrapper and all but shoving it into his mouth. Around his mouthful, he adds, “Oh my god, there’s a nougat center!” It comes out sounding like a garbled mess of words that no one except maybe Scott can understand. He swallows the rather large bit he’d taken, before looking to Derek and asking, “You want some?”
Derek hesitates, but the cupcake is shoved towards him anyway, causing him to go cross-eyed trying to look at it. “Sure.”
Stiles continues to hold the cake out to him, letting Derek take a bite, encouraging him to make sure he gets some frosting, too. Once he swallows, Derek smiles. “That was good.”
Leaning in, Stiles presses a kiss to Derek’s smiling lips. “Yeah,” he says, “real good.”
Pairing: Sterek
Rating: NC-17
Summary: A range of flavors displayed by Derek Hale, from Sourwolf to Saltywolf and all things in between.
Word Count: 6818
A/N: This is a charity fic written for socchan, who asked me to write the 5 flavors of Derek Hale.
On AO3
Sourwolf
It’s Stiles’ first time home since leaving for college. It’s a short break, not even a full week off for Thanksgiving, but it’s nice to go home and see his dad and Scott and Mrs. McCall and all his friends in Beacon Hills. The only person he saw on a somewhat regular basis while at school was Lydia, because she’s a genius and was accepted at Harvard. Stiles chose Boston College, because they gave him nearly a free ride to school and it gave him the chance to experience the East Coast. And even though it takes a few line switches on the T, they make it a point to meet up for lunch, coffee, ice cream or whatever else they’re in the mood for every Saturday.
So, now he’s home and helping Mrs. McCall prepare their Thanksgiving dinner. He’s made sure there are lots of veggies to go along with the mass amounts of potatoes and gravy his dad is sure to load up on his plate.
Dinner goes over smoothly. Everyone’s able to catch up on one another’s lives, they all eat until they need to pop open the buttons on their jeans and then they watch football.
It’s not until the following day that things get… weird. He sees Derek for the first time since getting back to town. And Derek is blatantly avoiding him.
The whole pack is together for the first time in months and Derek is about as far away from Stiles as he can be while still in the same room.
He doesn’t look like he even wants to be in the same room.
That guy needs to learn some social skills.
“Hey, Sourwolf, what crawled up your ass and died?” Stiles finally asks, because he thought they were friends and had moved past that whole I don’t like you but you’re surprisingly useful when you want to be and we do kind of need each other so I’ll keep you around phase, like, junior year of high school.
Derek leaves the room.
“What the fuck?” Stiles mutters, but the moment passes and he’s back to talking with his friends.
~~~
Bitterwolf
The next time Stiles comes home, it’s for winter break. His first semester of college is over and he’s home for a solid six weeks. He already has plans to do a whole lot of nothing, and it’s going to be awesome.
So, he and Scott do just that for days. They do nothing but play video games and eat frozen pizza and Bagel Bites. Stiles knew he’d be right, it is awesome.
After an epic four night sleepover, Scott and Stiles finally emerge from Stiles’ house. Stiles nearly makes a quip about thinking they’d been turned into vampires since they haven’t seen the sunlight in so long, but for once in his life, he thinks before he speaks. He doesn’t want to jinx them. They really don’t need vampires in Beacon Hills, too. They really, really don’t.
Their afternoon is spent at a Chinese buffet with the rest of the pack. It’s the first time that Stiles has seen Derek since the whole day after Thanksgiving incident. Derek is having no trouble talking to Isaac and Erica. At the opposite end of the table.
He doesn’t get it. He doesn’t know what he did to piss Derek off, or bring Derek to completely, blatantly avoid him. Because he’s being blatantly avoided.
While he chatters away to Scott about nothing in particular, he thinks about what he possibly could have done to Derek. He comes up blank. He’s got absolutely no clue. It’s bugging the shit out of him. Is he upset that he went so far away for college? That doesn’t make any sense, because even though he’s part of the pack, it’s not like he’s one of the betas. He’s just the research guy. And even when he’s gone, he can still do research.
Maybe while he was gone, Derek came to some realization, some great epiphany, that he just doesn’t like Stiles. That seems most plausible. Stiles had been somewhat forced upon Derek. He came with Scott. So Derek had just gotten used to Stiles being there all that time, and now that he’s back after being away for months, he’s realized that he likes life better without Stiles in it.
He really hopes it’s not that one. They still talked a little while Stiles was away, including a whole series of text messages where Stiles teased Derek about not scaring any trick-or-treaters while all wolfed out on Halloween. He and Derek texted back and forth all day that day.
So, maybe it’s not that one.
But what the hell can it be?
“Stiles?” Scott asks, trying to get his friend’s attention when he abruptly trailed off in the middle of a sentence.
It’s only then that Stiles finds out he’d drifted away for a moment. “Sorry,” he says. “Where was I?”
“Apparently in the middle of a daydream,” Scott replies. “Are you ok?”
Stiles looks over towards Derek, whose eyes narrow at him slightly before he turns his head completely away to face Erica. What the fuck?
“Yeah. It’s… fine.”
Scott knows he’s lying, but doesn’t push it. At least not until they’ve left the restaurant and are able to talk one on one without any of the others with freaky supernatural wolf hearing are around. So, once again Scott asks, “Are you ok?”
Stiles flails his hands a bit, runs his hands through his hair, then shoves them in his pockets, all before speaking. “What the fuck is going on with Derek?”
“Derek?”
“Yeah, Derek! He hasn’t spoken a word to me since I got home. Same for over Thanksgiving break when we were all hanging out together. He hardly even looked at me. Dude, what did I do?”
Scott shrugs. “I dunno. He hasn’t said anything, really.”
“Has he… mentioned me at all while I was gone?”
“Once in a while,” he answers.
“Ok, then.”
The following day, he makes it a point to talk to Derek. So, he goes to the Hale property, which has come quite a ways in its renovation. The Camaro is parked out front, so, Derek’s home. There’s no avoiding him today. He can try, but it’s not going to happen. Stiles take sit easy at first, giving a quick series of knocks on the front door.
Nothing.
That’s ok, though. Stiles was expecting that. He knocks louder this time, a bit more persistently. He also yells out, “Derek! I know you’re in there!”
Still nothing.
He leaves the door and walks towards the Camaro. “Derek, get out here now or I will key the shit out of your car!”
That does seem to get Derek’s attention, because he’s out there in a matter of seconds. “What?”
“You’re asking me what? Really? That’s rich, Derek.”
Derek actually looks mildly ashamed. Good.
“So, Derek, what the hell?” When Derek doesn’t answer, and actually goes from mildly ashamed to annoyed and pissed off, Stiles rolls his eyes. “Don’t even try and pretend that you’re not acting all weird. I know you go for the broody stalker look more often than not, but I’ve known you for going on four years now and it was only the first half of that where you were this extreme in your brooding.”
“You smell,” Derek then says.
Stiles’ eyes go wide, then he tilts his head to the side as he looks at Derek. “I smell? Dude, what? I showered this morning, and I’m pretty sure I remembered deodorant today, too.” He sniffs his underarms and nods, because, yup, he remembered deodorant. “Besides, you’ve smelled me after lacrosse practice and that’s when I’m at my worst. Believe me. And, I’m pretty sure you’ve smelled the inside of my lacrosse bag. Even I think it’s pretty rank and I don’t have some super sniffer.”
“No, you smell funny.”
“Gee, thanks,” Stiles mutters. “I don’t think I smell any different now than I did last year.”
“You do,” Derek tells him, trying to not grind his teeth together the longer he stands near Stiles.
“Then what exactly do I smell like?” Again, Derek goes back into deathly silence mode. “You are fucking ridiculous.”
“You smell like someone else. And before you say it,” he goes on when Stiles opens his mouth, “it’s not Scott.”
“Well, I’m surrounded by a whole new group of people in Boston, ya know.”
And that makes Derek’s lips go into a thin little line. “I know. And one guy’s scent is all over you. It’s on your skin, on your clothes… his scent is all over you. It’s like it’s part of your scent now,” he growls.
Stiles has seen Derek angry before, but seeing him now? He looks hurt and upset and jealous and bitter all at once. “That’s really your biggest problem with me?”
“Why didn’t you just say you were fucking someone else, Stiles?” Derek spits out before turning on his heel and walking away, back into the house.
Standing there in absolute shock, Stiles is actually speechless. He’s never speechless. And he’s also confused. He’s confused far more often than he is speechless, though, so that’s not a new thing. Slowly, he starts fitting pieces together.
Derek is upset because Stiles smells like someone else. Someone whose scent is all over him and his stuff. Someone Derek thinks he’s fucking. Only, he’s not fucking anyone. But he’s living in a dorm room with his roommate Paul. The room is about the size of a prison cell, so they’re in very close quarters and their scents would most likely infiltrate one another’s clothes. He’s totally heard Paul jerking off at about three in the morning, so there’s definitely jizz scent floating around their room. And, since Derek has never met Paul, he doesn’t know what he smells like. So… because he smells like Paul, Derek thinks he’s sleeping with Paul and he’s angry that Stiles is getting laid.
No, he’s angry that Stiles is fucking someone else, Derek’s exact words. So, he’s upset he’s fucking someone else, that someone being Paul. Someone else meaning… meaning not Derek?
“Holy shit,” Stiles says aloud, because he gets it. At least he thinks he may get it? He stays where he is, knowing that Derek can hear him if were to speak. So, he yells, “I’m not actually sleeping with anyone, Derek! Besides, my roommate’s straight!”
With that, he leaves, letting Derek mull that little tidbit of information over.
~~~
Savorywolf
When his phone pings three days after his whole Derek Hale Encounter, Stiles is rather surprised to see it’s a text from Derek. It reads, come over tonight. 6. So, it’s not much, but it’s some form of contact, more than he had had from Derek since the whole thing over Thanksgiving break last month.
He texts his affirmation back, wondering what Derek has planned.
When he’s getting ready to leave, his dad stops him to ask where he’s going.
Since his dad found out about the whole werewolf thing, he hasn’t had to lie to his dad, but he also doesn’t know if his dad will approve of a one on one meeting with Derek. So, he says, “It’s a pack thing.” Because, well, it kind of is. Derek is the alpha, he’s part of the pack. Pack thing.
“Have fun,” his Dad says, raiding the fridge.
Before heading out, Stiles tells him, “There’s some leftovers from last night’s dinner in there. Top shelf.” He knows his dad is grimacing, because last night’s dinner involved Brussels sprouts. Part of him is wondering if, once he leaves the house, his dad will actually eat said leftovers.
He gets to Derek’s at 6:05, and he’s pretty sure he can hear Derek pacing inside even without super hearing. Walking up the steps and to the door, he takes a breath before knocking. Only, he doesn’t have the chance to knock because the door is already opened. “I didn’t think you were coming.”
“Dude, I’m five minutes late,” he says, walking past Derek and into the house. Which smells amazing. And there’s sizzling noises, like something’s cooking on the stove.
Which means… Derek’s cooking.
Derek is cooking. Derek can cook?
“So,” Stiles says, because Derek hasn’t said a word, because he’s gone and left Stiles standing alone in the entryway while he’s headed back to the kitchen, “did you marathon Food Network all day to learn how to do this?”
“No,” Derek replies, turning over the steaks so they brown evenly.
“Is that a sauté pan?” Stiles asks, pointing to what is clearly a sauté pan filled with veggies.
“Yes,” Derek answers.
“I had no idea you even knew how to turn on an oven,” Stiles tells him.
“Thank you for your vote of confidence. I do eat more than dry cereal and takeout, you know.”
“I guess now I do. Learn something new everyday, right?” Stiles stops talking for a brief moment as a thought occurs to him. “Does that mean you can make breakfast?”
“What?”
“Breakfast. You know, bacon, hash browns, pancakes, scrambled eggs, fried eggs, eggs over easy and so on and so forth?”
“I can even poach an egg,” Derek says.
“Oh my god,” Stiles practically moans, “I’m coming here for breakfast. It’s only the best meal of the day.”
“Oh,” Derek says quietly and goes back to cooking dinner... not breakfast, which apparently Stiles would have preferred.
“But I bet your dinner will be amazing, too!” he’s quick to amend when it seems like he’s hurt Derek’s feelings a little. And it’s really only then that it truly hits Stiles that Derek is cooking dinner for the both of them. God, he’s an idiot sometimes.
Stiles is now rocking back onto his heels, staring at Derek rather aptly moving around the kitchen, seasoning the food he’s got on the stove while moving the pans around so nothing sticks. “So, uh, what’s the occasion?”
Derek frowns, looking down into the veggies.
“Derek?” Stiles moves closer. “Is this an ‘I’m sorry I was a total dick’ dinner? Is this an apology dinner? Are you apologizing? Are you apologizing?” Then he pauses and asks, “Are you apologizing?”
“Yes, Stiles. I’m apologizing.”
“Goddamn, if I knew you’d cook me a steak every time you were sorry about something, I’d have made up a fuckbuddy story ages ago.”
And that makes Derek clam up again and turn all his attention to the food he’s preparing.
It’s just a few minutes later that everything is plated and placed on the table. The start of the meal is kind of awkward. It’s just the two of them and neither of them is used to that. Generally, where there’s Stiles, there’s Scott, and when there’s Derek there’s his creepy uncle, little sister or the betas.
So, just the two of them is unusual.
But it’s not bad. Quiet, but not bad.
At least it’s quiet until Stiles can’t actually stand it any longer. He cuts into his steak and takes a bite. It’s really good. “So, do werewolves just know how to best cook a steak?” he asks.
Derek raises an eyebrow at him. “No, Stiles. Werewolves prefer their meat raw.”
Stiles doesn’t actually know if he’s joking. He could be, but at the same time, he may not be. “Interesting.”
“I learned from my mom. Then when Laura and I were on our own we did a lot of messing around in the kitchen.”
“Ohh.” Stiles figures that’s probably enough of that topic. But not before he adds, “This is really good.”
“Thanks.”
The next topic that Stiles moves onto, while shoving the sautéed veggies into his mouth, is one that probably should have waited until they were done eating so at least if Derek threw him out, he’d have finished his entire meal first. But Stiles has never been very good at waiting. “When you said ‘someone else,’ what exactly were you implying?” he asks.
Derek freezes. When he unfreezes, he cuts furiously into his steak and doesn’t look at Stiles.
“Because I’m pretty sure you heard what I said after your little temper tantrum, didn’t you?”
Still, Derek says nothing. He does stop cutting his poor unsuspecting steak, though. And then he nods just slightly.
“My roommate’s name is Paul. We sleep in the same room every single night. All our stuff is in that room. And that room we share is about the size of your bathroom, so if our scents are all over each other, that’s why. No other reason than that. I’m not screwing around with him or with anyone.”
Finally, Derek speaks, “But isn’t that what you’re supposed to do in college?”
“Well, I’m not saying I wouldn’t, but there’s just no one there I’ve been interested in.” He shrugs. “Mainly because there’s someone else.”
“Oh.”
Stiles takes his final bite of steak, and it’s just as good as the first. “Yeah. I just never thought the interest was mutual.”
“Oh?” Derek looks up from his plate to see that Stiles is already standing, apparently ready to head out, so he follows.
He heads towards the door, ready to leave. “Turns out, I may have been wrong about that, and it was a mutual thing the whole time.”
“Oh,” Derek breaths out, close to Stiles.
Stiles takes this opportunity to lean forward and press his lips to Derek. Only Derek ducks his head, not knowing that Stiles was attempting to kiss him and Stiles manages to plant one right on Derek’s eyelid.
It’s kind of awkward. Stiles is completely embarrassed, because of course he’d screw up kissing. So, before Derek can say anything, he leaves. He gets back into his Jeep and leaves and Derek doesn’t stop him. “Real smooth, Stilinski. Goddammit,” he mutters as he drives off.
He thinks it’s going to be one of those moments where neither of them speak of it again. But, as he’s getting ready for bed that night he gets a text from Derek that reads, The feelings are mutual.
He can’t even imagine what it took for Derek to send that text, but now he knows for sure. And the next time he kisses Derek, it’s going to be a proper kiss. No way he’s missing his mark next time.
~~~
Saltywolf
The following afternoon, Stiles makes it a point to go to Derek’s. Because after the dinner and the text and the horribly failed kiss attempt, he needs to see him again. There’s just no way he can leave that kind of door wide open and not take a step inside.
“Where are you off to today?” Stiles’ dad asks when he finally emerges from his bedroom around noon, completely dressed.
“Pack stuff,” he answers. Again, it’s not a lie. It’s still not the whole truth, mainly because he doesn’t want to tell his dad he’s planning on seeing Derek so he can stick his tongue down his throat.
“Have fun.”
“Later, Dad!” he says with a wave, then heads out.
Once again, Derek seems to be expecting him, because the door is open by the time he gets to the first step. “Stiles?”
“Heyyy, Derek,” he greets, leaning against the doorframe. “So, about last night.” At Derek’s raised eyebrow, he continues on. “It was really good. Thank you. And, uh, about that whole,” Stiles waves his hands around a bit, “kiss thing.” Derek’s other eyebrow goes up. “I didn’t mean to, you know, miss.” Stiles looks sheepish at the memory. He’s always imagined his and Derek’s first kiss would involve a lot more tongue and a lot less eyeball.
“Oh?” Derek asks and Stiles tells him what he was just thinking, of first kiss fantasies. Derek stands there for a bit, looking at Stiles the whole time. “You’ve thought about it a lot?” he finally asks.
“So much,” Stiles answers. “Like, daily. Multiple times a day. Pretty much since I met you.”
“Stiles, that was…”
“Three years ago? Yeah, I know. Let’s just say I’m good at long term crushing. I mean, I’ve been dreaming about kissing Lydia Martin since third grade. I can wait things out.”
“Well,” Derek says after a moment taking it all in, “it wasn’t really our first kiss, was it?”
“No?”
Derek steps closer. “No, not really. Would you consider kissing someone on their cheek a real kiss?” Derek asks and Stiles shakes his head. “So, maybe this should be the one that counts.” This is so unlike him, but Derek is emboldened by the fact that Stiles actually thinks about him, about them kissing and probably a whole lot more. He cups Stiles’ cheek and leans his head down just the slightest bit to meet Stiles’ lips with his own. He hears Stiles gasp as their lips meet and thinks that he wants to hear that more often.
Stiles’ hands find their way to Derek’s hips and settle there, though his thumbs brush up under Derek’s shirt. Neither of them are complaining about that. The kiss is fairly brief, but it’s good. So good. “That was the best kiss I’ve ever had,” Stiles says.
“Well, it was better than last night’s,” Derek teases.
“Ah, he does have a sense of humor,” Stiles mutters, but he knows that Derek can hear it. “But, yeah, so much better. Like the kind of better that makes me think we should do that again. And often. And maybe right now?”
“We can do that,” Derek agrees, pulling Stiles into the house, shutting the door behind him. “Couch?” he asks.
“Don’t care,” Stiles replies. “As long as we keep doing this.”
They do keep doing that, making out on the couch, and this is a lot more like what Stiles experienced in his dreams. Only better. Derek’s tongue is in his mouth and his body is solid and moving just slightly over his. There’s less nudity than in the dreams, but they’ll get there eventually. Right? In a break for air, Stiles asks, “Getting naked will be something we do right?”
“If you want,” Derek answers.
“Uh, yeah, I want that. You’ve seen you right?” He starts kissing Derek again before he can actually see him rolling his eyes. And then he stops once his phone starts buzzing in his pocket. When he checks his texts, he sighs. “Shit, I forgot I was hanging out with Scott today. Allison and Lydia are having some girly pampering day or something.” He really doesn’t want to. It’d be his revenge on all those times Scott ditched him for Allison. But, he’s also the best best friend ever, and he doesn’t want to give that title up.
“Go. Have fun with Scott,” Derek tells him when he can see the reluctance on Stiles’ face. “I’ll still be here.”
“Ok. As long as next time, you’re here naked.”
“I may be able to work something out,” Derek says.
Stiles smiles and gives Derek a kiss that’s probably longer and possibly deeper than most see you later kisses, but he doesn’t care.
Stiles is giddy the entire day with Scott. Giddy to the point where Scott actually wins at Mario Kart. “Dude, you ok?” Scott asks.
“Yeah,” Stiles agrees in a sigh, thinking about nothing but kissing Derek.
It takes Scott a moment, but he knows that sigh. It’s his mooning over Lydia sigh. “Stiles, are you mooning?” he asks.
“Huh? What? No!” Stiles denies. Then, “Maybe?”
“Maybe? I thought you’d given up on Lydia?”
“Lydia? Oh, uh, yeah… it’s not Lydia,” Stiles confesses because he’s really bad at keeping anything from Scott. Honestly, he’s surprised he can’t smell Derek all over him.
“Wait, it’s not? Stiles, are you seeing someone?” Scott asks.
“Maybe?” he answers. Because they’re not… dating. They’re not even sleeping together, so they’re not fuckbuddies either. “It’s a new development.”
Scott sniffs the air, really focusing on Stiles. “You… you smell a lot like Derek.” And then there’s that little spike of something at the mention of Derek’s name. “You’re with Derek?!”
“I told you, it’s new. It’s… a new development,” he repeats.
“But you are seeing Derek? Derek?” Scott asks.
“Well, I mean, yeah? I guess.”
“As of when?”
“Like, last night?” Stiles answers. “I mean, the attraction’s been there for years, but it wasn’t until recent discoveries wherein I found out Derek was, in turn, attracted to me, that anything was done about said attraction.”
“Years?”
“Uh, yeah, Derek’s pretty hot, dude,” Stiles says, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. Which it really should be. They’ve all seen him shirtless, after all.
“So, is that why you smell more like him than usual?”
“Probably… I was, uh, kind of just there.”
“Oh my god, is that why you were late? You and Derek were… were…” Scott waves his hands in a very Stiles like manner, and Stiles cuts him off before Scott begins making crude hand gestures.
“I haven’t even seen his dick yet, so, no, we weren’t doing what you think we were doing. Anyway,” Stiles starts, changing the subject, “now that that’s out there, ready to get your ass handed to you in Mario Kart?”
“Think you can stop pining long enough for that to happen?”
“Hey! Fuck you, dude,” Stiles says with a smirk. He kicks Scott’s ass easily.
A few hours go by before Scott gets a text from Allison, saying that she and Lydia are done with their girly day and did he want to go out to dinner somewhere? “So, Allison asked me to dinner,” Scott says, just as the two of them were browsing various takeout menus.
“Dude, it’s cool. She just spent the whole day with Lydia doing whatever it is girls do to look pretty. So she probably looks extra hot tonight.”
“You think so?”
“Yes. Don’t worry about me. I’ll just… go to Derek’s,” Stiles says with a grin.
“Oh, god… am I gonna have to hear all about your first time tomorrow?” Scott asks.
Stiles smirks. “Turnabout’s fair play, right? See ya later, buddy,” he says before heading out. He gets in his Jeep and sends a text off to Derek, telling him that he’ll be there in a few and that he’ll have food with him. He then scans through his contacts to see what takeout numbers he has stored in his phone. He decides on Chinese.
A few minutes later, he’s pulling up to Derek’s house, brown paper bag filled with their dinner in the passenger seat. He walks up to the door, actually able to knock this time, before Derek opens it. “You brought food?” Derek asks.
“Good to see you, too. But, yeah, food. Figured it was my turn to provide dinner.”
Derek shrugs and sets the bags down right in front of the couch. Stiles kicks off his shoes and settles down on the couch while Derek grabs some paper towels, because it’s a brand new couch and Stiles is not going to leave a chow mein stain on it. They eat right out of the cartons, Stiles even feeding Derek a piece of teriyaki chicken. Derek doesn’t even pretend to be annoyed.
Once they finish, Stiles chews his bottom lip for a moment. “I can tell my dad I’m spending the night at Scott’s.”
“You were planning on spending the night?” Derek asks, raising an eyebrow.
“Uh, well, I mean… Scott’s busy with Allison and I don’t have any plans or anything… Oh, unless you don’t want me to stay over?” Stiles asks. “Because I definitely don’t have to. God, did I just make things awkward?”
Derek chuckles. “I did promise you that next time we saw each other, I’d be naked.”
“Does that mean you’re going to get naked? Like, tonight? With me? Because I support that idea. I’d make campaign stickers if I could.”
Derek takes a couple steps closer, until he’s face to face with Stiles, their bodies pressed together. “That probably wouldn’t be your best idea.”
Stiles shakes his head. “No, probably not. But I think this would be a far better idea,” he says before tilting his head just enough to press his lips to Derek’s. Yeah, it’s a really good idea.
Derek is leading Stiles, walking him forwards as he walks backwards, finding the stairs and making their way up while trying not to separate. As soon as they’re behind Derek’s bedroom door, though, they do part. Momentarily. While they strip one another of their clothing.
Once divested of their shirts and Derek with his fly pulled down, Stiles does actually take a step back, just to appreciate. Derek is cut like a marble statue. Only better, because he’s living and breathing and so close that Stiles can touch him. He lets a hand trail over Derek’s abs, feeling the muscles move under his hand.
“Your heartbeat is going crazy,” Derek tells him.
“Yeah, I noticed,” Stiles replies in a breath, staring at his fingertips as they trace over Derek’s abdomen. There’s still part of his brain that doesn’t believe that he’s actually touching Derek right now, but he’s determined to keep touching until that part of his brain catches up with the rest of him.
Derek lets him touch for a while, then he takes Stiles’ hand and moves it to his hip before pulling Stiles in close to kiss him again, his hands grabbing Stiles’ ass through his jeans. He really likes the noises that Stiles makes into his mouth.
Stiles is actually the one to break the kiss, shaking his head just slightly. “You’re not naked enough.”
“I think that can be solved easily enough,” Derek says just before he pushes his jeans and boxer briefs down to the floor in one fluid motion that would have Stiles jealous of his smoothness if he hadn’t gone a little slack jawed at the sight.
It’s one thing to see attractive naked men fucking each other on the various porn sites he frequents, but it’s a completely different and infinitely better experience seeing an attractive naked man right in front of him, who he will hopefully be fucking at some point in the near future. He chuckles a little in disbelief, then asks, “If I said you had a beautiful body, would you hold it against me? Seriously, though, like, all the time?”
With a little grin, Derek steps forward, closing the gap between them, and presses his body against Stiles’. He kisses the corner of his mouth, then up his jaw until he can nibble briefly on Stiles’ earlobe. “I don’t think you’re naked enough, either,” he whispers.
“That can be arranged,” Stiles says. He tries to undo his jeans, he really does, but there’s just something about seeing Derek naked and hard right in front of him that makes him lose all basic motor skills.
“I can take care of that,” Derek tells him, pushing him back until his legs hit the mattress. He slides his hands down and around, popping the button of Stiles’ jeans before unzipping the fly. He hesitates just a moment with his hands over the edge of his pants and boxers, and when he sees Stiles glancing downwards, then back up at him a couple times over, he finally pushes them both down over his hips, letting them pool onto the floor. “Sit down,” he says, pushing gently on Stiles’ chest.
Stiles sits and watches as Derek kneels down in front of him, peeling off his socks and tossing them, along with his boxers and jeans to the side. That’s when Derek takes his moment to appreciate Stiles. His body is pale, dotted in moles and freckles, lean and muscled and the trail of hair on his lower abdomen leads right down to an erect cock, jutting out from a patch of hair. He leans his head in and sniffs. Stiles can feel his face burning because he can’t imagine what he smells like right now, right there.
And then Derek licks his cock and all other thoughts go out the window. He can’t actually think of anything aside from the fact that Derek is licking his cock and that it feels really nice and that Derek should keep on doing just that.
Derek lets his hands run over Stiles’ thighs, just for a brief moment, before gripping them, moving his head so his mouth can take in the head of Stiles’ cock.
“Can I-” Stiles starts, but stops to suck in a breath as Derek flicks and swirls his tongue just so. Derek looks up, meets Stiles’ eyes and nods without even hearing the question. Stiles can do whatever he wants. When he feels Stiles’ hands both settling on his head, he smiles.
He continues to lick and suck at the head, and soon he hears Stiles making more of those wonderful noises. Those noises are clearly ones of pleasure and it encourages him along as he lowers his head some more. Stiles’ hands tighten in his hair a little as he takes more into his mouth, and Derek can hear and smell just how much Stiles is really enjoying this.
Breathing in deeply through his nose, Derek sinks lower, wanting so badly to bury his nose in that patch of hair surrounding Stiles’ cock. But he’ll have to work towards that, because as much as Stiles is new to getting blowjobs, he’s brand new to giving them. As it is, he bobs his head up and down, dragging his tongue up the underside, swirling it around the tip. Stiles whimpers, which he claims he has never done. Though he also admits that he’s come to realize his brain to mouth filter is ever more off during sex than it usually is, so he can’t be held responsible for anything he says or any of the sounds he makes.
But Derek hears Stiles whimper and it encourages him, because Stiles is actually enjoying this, enjoying him. He slides one of his hands up Stiles’ leg and as he sucks, he lets his fingers just barely tease over Stiles’ balls.
That gets him an, “Oh, God, Derek,” and Stiles’ hands ball into fists. “Derek, Derek,” Stiles repeats, “I can’t, oh my god, Derek,” he groans.
He wants to swallow everything down, feel Stiles’ cum as it slides down his throat… but part of him, the wolf in him, wants Stiles to cover him, for his scent to soak into his skin. It’s at the very last second that Derek pulls back, and Stiles comes on his lips and nose and cheeks. Turning his head upward, he sees Stiles gaping at him. “Oh my god,” Stiles says, brushing a thumb over Derek’s cheek, rubbing off some of his cum. Derek brings his own hand up, covering Stiles’, and gently guides his thumb to his mouth. When he sucks Stiles’ thumb into his mouth, Stiles lets out a little choked sound, because he knows that Derek is tasting him right now. That and it feels good, even though it probably shouldn’t.
“Derek, you better get the fuck up here right now so I can return the favor,” he says once his thumb has been thoroughly licked clean.
Derek stands, kissing Stiles as he leans them both back onto the bed. Their bodies fit together perfectly, and Stiles’ hand finds Derek’s cock, wraps around and begins to stroke.
~~~
Sweetwolf
After forgetting to call his dad that night he spent at Derek’s, and having it confirmed by Melissa that he did not actually spend the night with the McCalls, Stiles is kept on a bit of a tighter leash for a while. Not that anyone can really tell Stiles what to do, but he tries to at least appease his father somewhat. He still feels guilty about lying to him for years. Though he does feel that he wasn’t lying that day he went to Derek’s, because that was pack stuff. It was two members of the pack, minor technicalities.
Christmas comes and goes, and Stiles celebrates with his dad and Scott and his mom. It’s never really a huge thing for them, it’s really just like Thanksgiving but with a gift exchange.
Stiles doesn’t have a chance to see much of the pack outside of Scott for a while, not until New Years. Derek doesn’t host a party, he just insists that it’s a pack gathering that happens to fall on a holiday. All their friends are there, there’s food, including specialty cupcakes as Lydia calls them, and Scott brought hats. So it’s got all the basics of a party. Derek just won’t call it a party. Even though it is.
They all talk, laugh, joke, eat and play Apples to Apples. Derek doesn’t really get the whole Apples to Apples concept, but he gets to sit right next to Stiles there on the floor, their legs pressing up together as Stiles attempted to explain the game to him for a third time.
“See, you put the green card out, so now you have to pick which red card you think works best with the green card,” Stiles says.
The word on the green card is “smelly”, and Derek is actually kind of nervous when he takes the pile of red cards. He flips them over one by one and reads them out loud. “Demi Moore?” That gets a raised eyebrow. “Monkeys?” That gets a nod, because monkeys can get really smelly. “Werewolves? Really Stiles?” he asks, turning his head to give Stiles the side-eye.
“Hey! Who said that was me?” He’s not making eye contact, though, and every werewolf in the place can hear his heart speed up. Damn them. “I thought it was funny, ok? And, you know, smelly doesn’t have to mean that you stink. Think about it, you’ve got super sniffers, so you’re always smelling things.” He gives Derek a smile and nods his head while elbowing him in the side.
Derek tosses the werewolf card to the side, not even considering it in his final choices.
“Hey! You suck.”
Derek ignores him and goes back to his reading of the red cards. The next one he flips over actually makes him chuckle. “Cow Pies,” he says between a few more chuckles. He flips over the next one and reads, “Betty White? That doesn’t even make sense.” There’s another raised brow at that one. “The Big Bang Theory.” He shakes his head a little in confusion at that one, then hears Erica murmur something about not having any good cards. “Taco Salad? Mayonnaise?” He really doesn’t understand this game. Then he flips the last one. “Giving birth.” He scrunches up his nose a little, because he doesn’t know if that’s smelly so much as it is… actually, yeah it’s probably a little smelly. But he knows his winner. “Cow pies,” he says, picking the winner.
“Yes!” Kira says, claiming the winning card as her own.
They continue to play for quite some time, until people start getting up for food and bathroom breaks.
Stiles packs the game up quickly before settling back down next to Derek, this time full on leaning bodily into him. “Are you having fun?” he asks, head resting on Derek’s shoulder.
“Yeah, I am,” he answers.
Stiles doesn’t need to have super wolf lie detector senses to know that Derek is telling the truth. “C’mon, get up,” Stiles says, nudging him before standing up. Derek gets up to his feet, not totally surprised when Stiles’ hand finds its way into his. He leads Derek over to the plate of cupcakes. “So, tell me, what kinds do we have here? But seriously. I have no idea what the hell I’m looking at.”
“Umm, I think that’s red velvet?” Derek says, pointing to the one that’s clearly a red cake.
Lydia is upon them in seconds after that comment, identifying all the various kinds of cupcakes on display.
“So you mean to tell me someone took the contents of a Snickers and put them inside a cupcake?” Stiles asks.
“Yes,” Lydia answers.
“Who is this genius?” Stiles says, grabbing one of the cakes, peeling off the wrapper and all but shoving it into his mouth. Around his mouthful, he adds, “Oh my god, there’s a nougat center!” It comes out sounding like a garbled mess of words that no one except maybe Scott can understand. He swallows the rather large bit he’d taken, before looking to Derek and asking, “You want some?”
Derek hesitates, but the cupcake is shoved towards him anyway, causing him to go cross-eyed trying to look at it. “Sure.”
Stiles continues to hold the cake out to him, letting Derek take a bite, encouraging him to make sure he gets some frosting, too. Once he swallows, Derek smiles. “That was good.”
Leaning in, Stiles presses a kiss to Derek’s smiling lips. “Yeah,” he says, “real good.”