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Stiles is happy. His ass is pleasantly sore from the night prior with Derek--his boyfriend . The word is still enough to bring warm fuzzy feelings to Stiles’ chest. They’ve been together a few weeks, but Stiles feels like he’s barely seen the alpha. Barely a day after they got together, the pack had all been forced to deal with a minor witch threat. Of course, Stiles only got his boyfriend to himself for a night before they were attacked by a stream of omegas sent on a wild goose to steal some artifact that Derek and the pack knew absolutely nothing about.
Finally, though, all the supernatural nasties have been dealt with. Derek is coming over to pick Stiles up on his way back from dealing with the final loose threads. Stiles is anxiously waiting by the door, backpack hanging loosely from one shoulder. Long, deft fingers drum on his thigh. For someone with ADHD, he isn’t sure he’s ever been more full of unused energy.
Derek’s Camaro pulls up outside and Stiles squeaks excitedly. He squeaks . However, the student is too busy dashing outside to feel embarrassed. Sneakers slapping the pavement, he runs towards his boyfriend. Derek catches him with ease when Stiles leaps into the werewolf’s arms. They kiss, slow and sweet, long enough to make up for the past few weeks.
“Hi,” Stiles giggles when they eventually pull apart. “I missed you.”
Derek smiles fondly, pressing their foreheads together. “Missed you, too,” he murmurs. Stiles sighs blissfully, wrapping his arms around Derek’s trim waist and nuzzling into his neck. The alpha makes a stifled, breathy noise and seems to arch into the touch without meaning to.
Stiles doesn’t move for a moment, unsure how to react. Broody McWerewolf definitely isn’t going to mention it, though; after a moment, the younger man pulls away to look into his boyfriend’s face. Instinctually, he slides one hand up from Derek’s waist to his lower back. The alpha’s eyelids flutter. “Dude,” Stiles says, eyes slightly wide.
“Shut up,” Derek retorts, flushing pink. He buries his face in the junction of Stiles’ neck and shoulder. Curiously, Stiles rubs the pads of his fingers over his boyfriend’s back, oddly reminiscent of his mom rubbing his back when he was young. Derek lets out an actual sigh, sounding positively blissful .
Finally, it hits Stiles like a pickup truck to the face. “Oh, Der,” he says, voice soft and sad. It’s a miracle when he restrains himself from calling the alpha baby . It’s obvious that Derek is already embarrassed enough, even though he has absolutely no reason to be. “You’re touch-starved,” Stiles says, speaking gently. His boyfriend glares, but doesn’t disagree.
It makes sense. Although Derek had relationships, they were all sexual. Stiles really doesn’t want to think about it, but he has a feeling Kate wasn’t much of a cuddler. After that, it wasn’t like there were all that many people lining up to give Derek a hug or even a friendly pat on the shoulder. Stiles decides that he’s going to change that.
Like it or not, Derek is going to get all the hugging and hand-holding and cuddling that he can take.
“Stiles,” Derek grumbles. “What are you doing?”
“Shh,” the younger man replies, continuing to gently scratch and massage his boyfriend’s back. They’re both tired, breathing heavily with Derek’s knot still holding him inside Stiles. The student had chosen their position carefully; they’re both lying on their sides, face to face, with Stiles’ legs wrapped around Derek’s thighs.
“Mm,” the alpha hums, pleased. It takes him a moment to regather himself and speak again. “Is this about earlier?” His cheeks tint pink.
“Shh,” Stiles repeats. “We’re cuddling. Just enjoy it.” He inches closer to his boyfriend; the movement presses Derek’s dick firmly against his prostate. The couple gasps in sync, Stiles going as far as letting out a breathy, little moan. “Oh,” he whispers, readjusting until he feels like he can breathe again. Derek’s cheeks are flushed somewhere between red and pink.
“Sit still,” he orders weakly, curling his arms around Stiles’ shoulders to hold him still. Stiles chooses to pretend it’s Derek’s attempt at cuddling rather than a method of restraining him.
Stiles keeps rubbing his back, keeping a careful eye on the older man’s face. Derek’s eyelashes won’t stop fluttering and he just looks so blissful in a way Stiles hasn’t seen before. It’s a face he definitely wants to see again.
When Derek’s knot shrinks enough that he can pull out, the werewolf doesn’t move. Stiles’ heart does something happy. He wraps his lanky limbs around his boyfriend, nuzzling into his neck. Derek makes a choked noise in the back of his throat. “I love you,” Stiles mumbles without thinking about it. He’s never said the three words to his boyfriend before.
“I love you too,” Derek replies.
Stiles crawls onto Derek’s waist, bright and early on a Saturday morning. Well, it’s before noon at least. “Hi,” he greets. “The pack is coming over in, like, half an hour,” he informs. Derek raises a sleepy eyebrow. “I invited them. Scott’s a dumbass and wanted to play hang out but he accidentally texted the group chat instead of just me, so. I just said everyone should come over because I’m a nice guy like that,” Stiles explains, earning himself a huff from Derek. He ignores it. “Come shower with me?”
The alpha follows him dutifully into the en suite.
Miraculously, they manage to keep the shower short enough that both of them are mostly clothed and ready when there’s a knock at the door. “ You bitches better not be fucking on the kitchen counter ,” Derek monotones, translating whatever someone is saying from outside the door. Stiles snorts and presses a quick peck to the corner of his boyfriend’s mouth. “Go let them in,” Derek grunts, grabbing the back of his boyfriend’s neck and pulling him in for a proper kiss. Grinning, Stiles lands a playful slap on the werewolf’s ass--clad only in thin boxers. Derek spanks him with his jeans in retaliation. “ Answer the door, kinky motherfuckers .”
When Stiles answers the door, Scott is staring him down with a wounded expression. “I don’t have keys,” the big-eyed werewolf says.
Stiles is confused. “What?”
“I always have keys to your place, ever since we moved out.” And I moved back in with Dad because college is fucking expensive , Stiles thinks wryly.
“I don’t live here,” he says instead. “This is Derek’s place.” Scott knows this. The apartment has belonged to Derek since they met the alpha.
Except Scott is still staring at Stiles with a look . He sniffs the air, as if double-checking something. “No,” he says dumbly. It’s endearing. However, Stiles is still glad when Derek enters the room and interrupts the conversation. The rest of the pack stream past Scott, Erica immediately pouncing on Derek to tease him. Based on what Stiles can hear of their conversation, she must have been the one speaking through the door. Really, he should have guessed that.
Scott is still staring at him with a mix of confusion and the crinkly expression he wears when he thinks Stiles is lying. “Come in, dude,” Stiles says awkwardly, tugging him further into the house and shutting the door behind them. Allison grabs the confused-looking werewolf and subtly smacks his shoulder and hisses something indiscernible. Stiles is even more confused. He writes it off as his best friend being endearingly dumb again.
Seeing the increasingly annoyed expression on Derek’s face, the student sneaks through the crowd and presses against his side. Catching the ever-so subtle change in his boyfriend’s expression, Stiles rests one hand on his stomach and slides the other up his back and under his shirt. Derek leans into the younger man. “Why are you two so touchy?” Lydia asks.
Derek turns to Stiles expectantly, making it clear he has no plans of answering. “Because Derek loves me,” Stiles replies brightly. “He said so last night.” Even though he says it with the intention of teasing his boyfriend, there’s still a certain tone of genuineness behind it. Stiles wonders if Derek hears it and holds back a scoff because of it, or maybe the werewolf is just too blissed out from the back rubs he’s receiving. Either way, Stiles fondly bites his jaw in reward. Even though the alpha would never admit it, Stiles knows that he adores the gentle nips.
“You two are gross,” Isaac says, scrunching his nose. He turns and leads Scott towards the flat-screen Stiles forced Derek to buy. The console and stacks of video games beneath it are his doing as well. Lydia grabs Allison’s wrist flounces over to the large couches, followed by Erica and Boyd.
Stiles wants to ask Derek about Scott’s strange behaviour; he wonders if it really is just Scott being weird or if it’s a wolf thing. However, he doesn’t want his best friend’s wolf ears to pick up on the conversation. Deciding to leave it be, at least for now, the students drags Derek to the remaining arm chair and pushes him into it. Feeling a dog doing three spins before lying down, Stiles settles onto his boyfriend’s lap. Smiling contentedly, he curls around him. It feels like they’re posing for a photoshoot, like two vampire lovers from a CW show or something. Derek is dressed the part, in dark jeans and a leather jacket. Stiles, meanwhile, is clad in a hoodie, flannel, and an oversized t-shirt.
“Stiles,” Isaac says, tossing a controller at him. Derek catches it just before it knocks the student’s tooth out. The alpha growls softly at his beta. Stiles smacks his chest while Isaac lowers his gaze quickly and instinctually. It’s only been a few weeks of Stiles and Derek dating; they haven’t quite found a balance with the alpha’s wolf instincts. During a late night conversation, Derek had admitted to half his brain constantly screaming mine mine mineminemine whenever someone else got near his boyfriend.
No one is sure how to react. The whole pack looks stuck between being unhappy with Derek and glad that he’s so protective of Stiles. “I want you to at least have a chance at winning,” Stiles says, tossing the controller back at Isaac. It breaks the ice instantly.
“Sorry,” Derek whispers in his ear, soft enough that the other wolves won’t hear without straining.
“S’fine,” Stiles reassures, kissing his nose. “It was kinda hot,” he offers. Maybe it’s fucked up that he’s not joking, but he’s dating a werewolf. They’re looking at fucked up in the rearview mirror.
“Love you,” Derek murmurs.
“Love you, too.”
It takes months before Derek grows accustomed to the friendly touches from Stiles. Simultaneously, it’s a win and a loss. Stiles is overwhelmingly happy with Derek’s growth into a functioning person. However, he’s going to miss winning every argument and getting anything he wants by rubbing his boyfriend’s back.
Derek grumbles when Stiles voices his opinion but still rolls over so the younger man can scratch his stomach.