MMoM: Day 14
Hearts wrapped in blankets, laying low
Stiles/Derek, R, 1300-ish
Masturbation, hangover, established quasi-relationship
Day 14 for mmom
Derek woke at his normal time, gradually waking as the sun rose.
He rolled out of bed and used the bathroom, then started to make his way to the coffee maker. He paused when he reached the couch and stared down at Stiles who was sprawled on his stomach, drooling on a pillow.
He could smell the alcohol practically rising from his prone body and was only slightly jarred by the realization that Stiles managed to stumble into the loft at God-knows-when over night and pass out on his couch without him realizing.
"I need you to go to McDonald's," Stiles murmured, keeping his eyes closed.
"Oh?" Derek asked, bemused. He trailed his fingers over Stiles' temple and brushed through his hair.
"I need a huge chocolate milkshake and the biggest fries they have."
"I don't think they serve fries for a few more hours," Derek replied and crouched down so he could look Stiles in the eye.
One heavy lid rose and then snapped shut immediately and Stiles groaned. "Nooooooo," he whined. "I just want to dip some salty fries in a chocolate shake."
Derek wrinkled his nose.
Without looking Stiles raised one finger and pointed it at Derek. "You don't get hangovers, you don't get to judge me for what I want to eat as hangover foods."
"I don't get hangovers because I can't get drunk," Derek corrected.
Stiles smushed his face into the couch cushion and grumbled, "So loud."
Derek huffed and pushed himself up, made his way to the kitchen again. He started brewing a pot of coffee, bigger than normal, and once it was finished be brought a cup to Stiles without any sugar or milk and a tall glass of lukewarm water. He left them both by Stiles' head on the floor.
He was dozing, snoring a little and drooling on the couch. Derek should have been annoyed, maybe grossed out. Instead he shook his head fondly and grabbed his jacket before leaving, pulling the door to softly.
***
Stiles woke sometime later, able to open both eyes without wincing. He pushed himself off the couch and waited for his vision to focus before hitting the bathroom. He showered quickly, felt at least halfway decent when he climbed out and didn't smell like stale beer and sweat. He pulled out the "guest" toothbrush, which was just Stiles' that hadn't officially been called "Stiles' toothbrush" yet. Derek casually mentioned one morning after that he had one under the counter for "guests" and Stiles wisely didn't point out that Derek never had guests, at least ones that stayed the night.
He rooted through Derek's dresser and found his favourite pair of Derek's sweatpants, the softest pair that made him run his hand over Derek's ass every time he wore them (yeah, that was the only reason). He pulled on a t-shirt that still smelled like Derek over the mild detergent.
He carefully bent over to pick up the now-cold cup of coffee and stuck it in the microwave for a minute, then stood in the kitchen with his hands cupped around the mug and sipped it like it was life-giving nectar.
Stiles wondered if he should leave before Derek got back just as the door rolled open and Derek walked in carrying a few bags. Stiles moved out of the way so Derek could put them on the counter and got a whiff of grease.
"Oh, dude. Tell me you got-"
Derek pulled a McDonalds bag out of one of the bigger ones and Stiles almost sank to his knees in gratitude. Derek pulled an extra large milkshake out as well and Stiles moaned.
"Thank you," he said reverently.
Derek shrugged. "It's fries and a milkshake. Well, and a McMuffin because I thought you could do with something more substantial in your stomach."
"You're the best," Stiles said, kissing Derek on the cheek quickly before grabbing his food and shuffling back to the couch. Derek put away the rest of his things and joined Stiles on the couch, watched with a skeptical look as Stiles took the lid off his milkshake and started dipping his fries in the chocolate mix.
"C'mon, try it," Stiles insisted, catching Derek's expression. Derek tried to protest but Stiles leaned forward and forced a fry into his mouth and Derek begrudgingly ate it.
The next one he accepted without fight, and the next one, the pattern being one-for-one between Stiles and Derek. Stiles pulled a longer fry out and held one end in his teeth and waggled his eyebrows, turning to Derek on the couch.
"Seriously?" Derek laughed, but leaned forward and at the other end until their mouths met and it was the single most disgustingly quasi-romantic thing Stiles was sure he'd ever done.
Derek kissed him softly, cradling his head and licking the salt off Stiles' lips. Stiles could feel Derek using some of his werewolf mojo to take some of his pain away with his fingertips on Stiles' neck.
They pulled apart easily and went back to sharing the fries and talked about nothing quietly, ending up cuddling on the couch with Stiles tucked between Derek's legs, his head laid back against Derek's chest. Derek had his hand under Stiles' borrowed t-shirt and was rubbing Stiles' belly with his thumb absently. Stiles was sure he was scent marking him, too, with every pass his cheek made over top of his head. It was mic.
Gradually Derek's fingers moved under the waistband of the sweat pants Stiles was wearing and Derek rumbled his approval into Stiles' ear at finding him commando in them. Stiles didn't even have to bring up how Derek would be able to smell Stiles on his clothes for weeks after today.
Derek palmed Stiles' cock and stroked him slowly, while Stiles let out a comfortable sigh and relaxed against Derek. This was unlike what they usually did, which was often fast and frenetic or reassuring after a fight with something that generally wanted to kill them.
Derek kissed the back of Stiles' head and down his neck at the same pace. Stiles turned his head and allowed him more access, murmuring soft encouragement that even Derek would have trouble making out.
Stiles' orgasm took him off guard even though the buildup was slow and generous. Derek cupped a hand around him while he came and fed it back to Stiles who cleaned Derek's fingers lazily, suckling on them long after they were come-free. Stiles let Derek pull his pants up and shirt down, then slithered off the couch to kneel between Derek's legs.
He helped Derek get his jeans down to his knees and gave him a slow, thorough blow job, making sure every inch of Derek's cock got equal attention. He took his time like never before, filing away the taste of Derek and how his legs shook when Stiles spent almost ten minutes on the head alone, before adding his hand to rub down the crease between Derek's balls and press gently against his opening. Derek gasped and it was the first quick, sharp move either of them made, as Derek's fingers jerked on Stiles' hair before he relaxed and scratched his nails over Stiles's scalp in apology.
Stiles moaned from the feeling and that did it, sent Derek over the edge. Stiles swallowed some, then let the rest fill his mouth until he crawled back up on the couch and kissed Derek, feeding him his own come. Derek licked into Stiles' mouth, getting every last drop. They made out lazily on the couch, Stiles fading fast now that he was full and sated. Derek arranged them on the couch, pulling Stiles against him and rubbed his back until he fell asleep and started to drool on Derek's chest.
He still only smiled fondly.
Stiles/Derek, R, 1300-ish
Masturbation, hangover, established quasi-relationship
Day 14 for mmom
Derek woke at his normal time, gradually waking as the sun rose.
He rolled out of bed and used the bathroom, then started to make his way to the coffee maker. He paused when he reached the couch and stared down at Stiles who was sprawled on his stomach, drooling on a pillow.
He could smell the alcohol practically rising from his prone body and was only slightly jarred by the realization that Stiles managed to stumble into the loft at God-knows-when over night and pass out on his couch without him realizing.
"I need you to go to McDonald's," Stiles murmured, keeping his eyes closed.
"Oh?" Derek asked, bemused. He trailed his fingers over Stiles' temple and brushed through his hair.
"I need a huge chocolate milkshake and the biggest fries they have."
"I don't think they serve fries for a few more hours," Derek replied and crouched down so he could look Stiles in the eye.
One heavy lid rose and then snapped shut immediately and Stiles groaned. "Nooooooo," he whined. "I just want to dip some salty fries in a chocolate shake."
Derek wrinkled his nose.
Without looking Stiles raised one finger and pointed it at Derek. "You don't get hangovers, you don't get to judge me for what I want to eat as hangover foods."
"I don't get hangovers because I can't get drunk," Derek corrected.
Stiles smushed his face into the couch cushion and grumbled, "So loud."
Derek huffed and pushed himself up, made his way to the kitchen again. He started brewing a pot of coffee, bigger than normal, and once it was finished be brought a cup to Stiles without any sugar or milk and a tall glass of lukewarm water. He left them both by Stiles' head on the floor.
He was dozing, snoring a little and drooling on the couch. Derek should have been annoyed, maybe grossed out. Instead he shook his head fondly and grabbed his jacket before leaving, pulling the door to softly.
***
Stiles woke sometime later, able to open both eyes without wincing. He pushed himself off the couch and waited for his vision to focus before hitting the bathroom. He showered quickly, felt at least halfway decent when he climbed out and didn't smell like stale beer and sweat. He pulled out the "guest" toothbrush, which was just Stiles' that hadn't officially been called "Stiles' toothbrush" yet. Derek casually mentioned one morning after that he had one under the counter for "guests" and Stiles wisely didn't point out that Derek never had guests, at least ones that stayed the night.
He rooted through Derek's dresser and found his favourite pair of Derek's sweatpants, the softest pair that made him run his hand over Derek's ass every time he wore them (yeah, that was the only reason). He pulled on a t-shirt that still smelled like Derek over the mild detergent.
He carefully bent over to pick up the now-cold cup of coffee and stuck it in the microwave for a minute, then stood in the kitchen with his hands cupped around the mug and sipped it like it was life-giving nectar.
Stiles wondered if he should leave before Derek got back just as the door rolled open and Derek walked in carrying a few bags. Stiles moved out of the way so Derek could put them on the counter and got a whiff of grease.
"Oh, dude. Tell me you got-"
Derek pulled a McDonalds bag out of one of the bigger ones and Stiles almost sank to his knees in gratitude. Derek pulled an extra large milkshake out as well and Stiles moaned.
"Thank you," he said reverently.
Derek shrugged. "It's fries and a milkshake. Well, and a McMuffin because I thought you could do with something more substantial in your stomach."
"You're the best," Stiles said, kissing Derek on the cheek quickly before grabbing his food and shuffling back to the couch. Derek put away the rest of his things and joined Stiles on the couch, watched with a skeptical look as Stiles took the lid off his milkshake and started dipping his fries in the chocolate mix.
"C'mon, try it," Stiles insisted, catching Derek's expression. Derek tried to protest but Stiles leaned forward and forced a fry into his mouth and Derek begrudgingly ate it.
The next one he accepted without fight, and the next one, the pattern being one-for-one between Stiles and Derek. Stiles pulled a longer fry out and held one end in his teeth and waggled his eyebrows, turning to Derek on the couch.
"Seriously?" Derek laughed, but leaned forward and at the other end until their mouths met and it was the single most disgustingly quasi-romantic thing Stiles was sure he'd ever done.
Derek kissed him softly, cradling his head and licking the salt off Stiles' lips. Stiles could feel Derek using some of his werewolf mojo to take some of his pain away with his fingertips on Stiles' neck.
They pulled apart easily and went back to sharing the fries and talked about nothing quietly, ending up cuddling on the couch with Stiles tucked between Derek's legs, his head laid back against Derek's chest. Derek had his hand under Stiles' borrowed t-shirt and was rubbing Stiles' belly with his thumb absently. Stiles was sure he was scent marking him, too, with every pass his cheek made over top of his head. It was mic.
Gradually Derek's fingers moved under the waistband of the sweat pants Stiles was wearing and Derek rumbled his approval into Stiles' ear at finding him commando in them. Stiles didn't even have to bring up how Derek would be able to smell Stiles on his clothes for weeks after today.
Derek palmed Stiles' cock and stroked him slowly, while Stiles let out a comfortable sigh and relaxed against Derek. This was unlike what they usually did, which was often fast and frenetic or reassuring after a fight with something that generally wanted to kill them.
Derek kissed the back of Stiles' head and down his neck at the same pace. Stiles turned his head and allowed him more access, murmuring soft encouragement that even Derek would have trouble making out.
Stiles' orgasm took him off guard even though the buildup was slow and generous. Derek cupped a hand around him while he came and fed it back to Stiles who cleaned Derek's fingers lazily, suckling on them long after they were come-free. Stiles let Derek pull his pants up and shirt down, then slithered off the couch to kneel between Derek's legs.
He helped Derek get his jeans down to his knees and gave him a slow, thorough blow job, making sure every inch of Derek's cock got equal attention. He took his time like never before, filing away the taste of Derek and how his legs shook when Stiles spent almost ten minutes on the head alone, before adding his hand to rub down the crease between Derek's balls and press gently against his opening. Derek gasped and it was the first quick, sharp move either of them made, as Derek's fingers jerked on Stiles' hair before he relaxed and scratched his nails over Stiles's scalp in apology.
Stiles moaned from the feeling and that did it, sent Derek over the edge. Stiles swallowed some, then let the rest fill his mouth until he crawled back up on the couch and kissed Derek, feeding him his own come. Derek licked into Stiles' mouth, getting every last drop. They made out lazily on the couch, Stiles fading fast now that he was full and sated. Derek arranged them on the couch, pulling Stiles against him and rubbed his back until he fell asleep and started to drool on Derek's chest.
He still only smiled fondly.