Sterek // One-Shots

Wanted and Wounded [|] part 2

Author:            RoxyRosse
                                Ao3

Additional Tags:Coming UntouchedScentingOrgasm DelayHand JobsCome EatingEmbarrassed!Derekoblivious!StilesButnotforlongBecauseStilesisaSmartCookieGood PeterMatesEmotionally Constipated DerekHurt/ComfortDerek is a FailwolfScent MarkingAnal FingeringRimmingAnal SexKnottingMultiple OrgasmsBitingShit'sGonnaGetHawt

Word's:  12,781
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Summary:

Derek can't seem to get off. It's been days with no luck, and he's constantly on edge. But then pack night rolls around, and when Stiles falls into him as he goes to sit down on the couch, Derek is suddenly coming, right where he sits.

Turns out, Stiles is his mate. And among a whole slew of embarrassing side effects to this whole "mate" thing is the fact that Derek will never again be able to have an orgasm without Stiles by his side.

So yeah, Derek's life kind of sucks right now.
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They did not, in fact, talk about it in the morning.

Stiles woke up clad only in his boxers. But before he could start to wonder how he’d become considerably more naked in his sleep, Derek’s tongue was tracing the way down his stomach, and Stiles’ vocal chords failed him entirely.

Derek licked every inch of him. Mouthed at him slowly, hot and wet, even as Stiles shuddered through his orgasm, fingers twisted in Derek’s hair.

Stiles hadn’t even come close to finishing off his chorus of “Derek, Derek, ohmygod, Derek” when he felt a second round of warm wetness splatter over his chest. Stiles panted, staring up at Derek with wide eyes, as the older boy smeared it into his skin until he was satisfied.

“I’ll be back tonight,” Derek said from the window. He sprung down onto the grass, leaving Stiles floundering in his wake.

“Well, alright,” Stiles called out, “I guess I’ll just be here, then! Waiting!”

He slammed the window shut and wondered again how all the weirdest shit always managed to happen to him.

********************

Derek breezed into the loft, and was immediately confronted with an even more smug-looking Peter than usual, who scented the air once, then said, “Didn’t I say it would all work out? You just had to talk to him, and I bet he flung himself right at you once he realized you were interested.”

Sidestepping him, Derek bee-lined for the kitchen.

“Unless…” Peter mused from behind. “Oh for fuck’s sake. You didn’t tell him, did you?”

Derek pulled a carton of orange juice from the fridge and tipped it back down his throat.

“It didn’t come up,” Derek said.

“Didn’t come up,” Peter repeated flatly. “You spent all night rolling around in bed together, and you couldn’t find five seconds to say, ‘ By the way Stiles, you’re my mate ’?”

Derek sighed heavily. “I couldn’t tell him. Not after…” he dragged a hand through his hair. “Stiles should have a choice in this. And once I tell him, he doesn’t get a choice anymore. He deserves to have some time where he can decide if he even likes me at all before I start using words like mate and forever .”

“While it’s noble of you to say that, it’s hardly realistic. Stiles is smart. He’ll figure it out eventually. Especially when things become so painful on your end that you can no longer hide it.”