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Summary
Everything is still for a moment, their breath loud in the air, and then Stiles drapes himself across Derek’s back. Derek can feel how much smaller he is, thinner, but Stiles has always been long-limbed and he cages Derek in with his arms, wraps him fully in the scent and heat of his body. He grabs Derek’s hands, long fingers wrapping over his palms, and pulls them above his head. And then he asks, sweet and solicitous, “Better?”
*****
Not even a hint of plot, just straight porn.
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Bookmark Notes:
Derek bucks into him, shocked, and he can feel the smirk Stiles presses into the skin over his shoulder blade. Stiles squeezes his wrists once and retracts his hands, tucks them beside Derek’s chest where he has better leverage. Derek can feel his breath stirring the hairs on the back of his neck, can smell his sweat and the musk of them, all a muddled haze pierced only by the brilliant sweetness of his cock, and Derek’s treacherous body tips his head to the side and bares his neck. Stiles huffs a laugh into his ear.
“Bitch,” he says, warm and fond, and he drags his cock out and then fucks back in in one long, relentless drive and Derek comes.
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