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Stiles loved his jeep, but truthfully, she was a lot more trouble than she was worth. Something was wrong with her just about every other week, and Stiles didn’t exactly have the funds to keep getting her patched up. Luckily, Stiles knew a very sexy mechanic that always worked for free.
“I dare you to kiss Derek.”
“No! No way!”
So, Derek wasn’t actually a mechanic, and he only worked for free if Stiles brought him Five-Guys, and got on his knees and begged. But he was a heck of a lot better than the dick that used to work at the Armor Tire and Service Center, who’d been killed by the Kanima. RIP.
Stiles and Scott were playing a game of Truth or Dare while Derek worked. Stiles had already dared Scott to stick his tongue in his nose, and prank call Chris Argent, but now Scott was taking things to the extreme.
“Why would you even want to see that?” Stiles asked. “I wanna take a look at your porn history.”
Scott snorted. “Are you seriously going to act like you don’t want to?”
He glanced over at Derek just as he was bending down to grab a wrench, giving Stiles a perfect view of his ass. Stiles wondered what he’d ever done in his life to deserve this.
“Derek doesn’t even look like a good kisser. I bet he uses a lot of tongue, and too much teeth, and that stubble’s gotta grate like sandpaper.”
“Here’s your daily reminder that I’m a werewolf and can totally hear when you’re lying to me, Stiles.”
“Here’s your daily reminder that you’re an ass!” Stiles shot back. “Goddammit, I need more friends that I can lie to.”
“It’s either this or you wax off one of his eyebrows.”
Both acts put his life in jeopardy and showed Stiles that he seriously needed to reconsider his friendship with Scott. The kid was fucking evil.
“Clock’s ticking,” Scott snickered.
“Fuck you.”
His heart was slamming in his chest as he stomped over to Derek. Scott hadn’t really defined what “a kiss” was, so Stiles wondered if he could get away with an air kiss, or a kiss on the cheek, or an eskimo kiss, or the one where they fluttered their lashes at each other.
Derek looked over his shoulder when Stiles stopped behind him, and said, “Hey. Make yourself useful for once in your life and hand me that-”
Stiles handed him his lips. He whipped Derek around, mushing their mouths together, and taking his face in his hands. Derek made a sharp sound of surprise and parted his lips, but other than that, he didn’t kiss back. After a while, Stiles pulled away and blushed as Derek stared back at him, absolutely rigid and stock still.
“T-That’s not how you play gay chicken,” Derek stammered.
Stiles smirked. “Not gay chicken. Truth or dare. And I was totally right about ‘the not being good at kissing thing’, Scott!”
Derek growled. “I’ll show you good kissing.”
He hooked an arm around Stiles’ waist, drawing him in, then let his mouth fall back down onto Stiles’. His lips felt soft and velvety, and warm, and Stiles felt like he could melt into a puddle right there. Derek used the right of the tongue, the right amount of teeth, the right amount of everything.
And Stiles just had to pull away, and call back, “I was totally wrong about the stubble thing, Scott!”
Then moaned when Derek kissed him again.