symbioticantithesis:

The first time Derek lets Stiles top, Stiles takes his time.  He kisses down Derek’s chest, teases his nipples, nips at his abs, licks down his thighs and behind his knees, traces his fingertips up his calves, and sucks a hickey into the juncture of his hip and thigh.  Derek growls at him to move faster, mildly uncomfortable at the avid attention Stiles is giving him, feeling overwhelmed at his careful ministrations.

But Stiles ignores him.

He’s slow, meticulous; every kiss and every caress was with purpose and Derek could smell the affection and love rolling off of Stiles in waves.  His chest swells at the thought and he shudders, unused to such lavishing attention, having someone care so much.

When Stiles finally slips a slick finger into him, he’s aching.  He closes his eyes, his lashes wet against his cheeks.  Stiles kisses him lightly on the nose as he pumps his finger in and out.  He nudges Derek’s cheek and he willingly – willingly – bares his neck for him.  Stiles runs his teeth over his jugular and Derek lets out a shaky breath.  Derek has never trusted someone this much before and it hits him how significant, how important all of this is.

Because this isn’t just sex.  It’s more than that.  It’s intimacy.  It’s making love.

Derek cups the back of Stiles’ head and runs his other hand down his back.  He turns into Stiles, dislodging the younger man from his neck and Stiles grunted in displeasure.  Derek quickly rectifies it by covering Stiles’ lips with his own, kissing him deeply and putting every possible emotion he could into the kiss.  Stiles takes a moment to return the kiss, but when he does, it’s with equal passion and fervor.

Their tongues intertwine, their breaths hot against the other’s cheek, and Derek curls his fingers into the hairs at the nape of Stiles’ neck.  He rolls his hips, urging Stiles silently to add another finger.

He does, and it was soon followed by a third.  Derek groans when Stiles finds his prostate and he clenches the sheets to prevent himself from fucking onto Stiles’ fingers.  Stiles teases for a while longer and fuck, now that he was on the recieving end of not enough he wasn’t so sure he’d have the heart to subject Stiles to it again.

Stiles pulls his fingers out and slicks his cock with more lube.  ”Turn around.”  It’s the first words either of them spoke since Derek’s suggestion, and the shattering of the silence isn’t as shocking as Derek thought it would be.  Usually Stiles babbles and Derek never minded – after all, his constant stream of words told Derek what he was doing right and what Stiles liked.

But Stiles had been incredibly silent throughout their foreplay and it only just struck him that even if the silence was out of place, it was okay.  Because a quiet Stiles meant a concentrating Stiles, and a concentrating Stiles meant Stiles’ full regard.

And Stiles’ undivided attention was something to cherish.

Derek obeys, bracing himself on his hands and knees and he shivers, unable to shake the feeling of vulnerability.  Stiles kisses the top knob of his spine and traces a hand up and down his flank, soothing Derek’s suddenly tense muscles.  Only when Derek relaxes again does Stiles nudge his cock against his hole.  Derek bites his lip and drops his gaze to the sheets, breathing deeply as Stiles starts to push in.  He whimpers when Stiles’ cockhead breaches his entrance and Stiles wraps both his arms around his waist.  Stiles peppers kisses across his shoulder blades as he continues to thrust his hips forward.

They both groan when Stiles bottoms out and Stiles rests his forehead on Derek’s back, his breath hot and unsteady against his skin.  Derek only takes a few moments to adjust before he’s pushing his hips against Stiles’.  Stiles traces the ink of his tattoo with his tongue then starts to move in short, shallow thrusts.  His grip on Derek’s hips tighten and he angles himself slightly to left and –

Fuck,” he swears softly.  He feels Stiles’ smile against his back and Stiles starts up a faster rhythm, hitting that spot every single time.  Derek drops to one elbow, his other arm locks and his fingers curl against the edge of the mattress.

He knows why now he’s never allowed any one else to do this to him.  It’s not just the trust or the feeling of vulnerability – though those were a huge factor in Derek’s reluctance and why it took so long for him to allow it.  It was also because he could feel so much that his senses were overloaded.  Stiles inside him, Stiles above him, Stiles’ heat encompassing him, Stiles’ scent wrapping around him and making Derek his.

His wolf always took great pleasure in marking Stiles and now Derek wants Stiles to do the same for him.

Because they were mates and they were equals.

It had taken him years to understand it, but now he did.

His mate.  His equal.

That thought alone was enough to make him come untouched.  He gasps out his release and he hears Stiles’ breath hitch, his hips stutter.  Derek rests his brow against the bed, panting hard as Stiles fucks him through his orgasm.  It doesn’t take much longer, however, for Stiles to tumble over the edge.  Stiles moans when he comes, and Derek growls when he feels Stiles pulse inside of him.

Derek rolls onto his side, Stiles following, spooned up behind him.  Stiles sighs, nuzzling the nape of Derek’s neck and dragging his blunt fingernails across Derek’s stomach.  His dick is still inside him but Derek can’t muster enough energy to care.  He lays a hand over Stiles’ and interlaces their fingers.

“Good?” Stiles mumbles into his hair.

Derek doesn’t say anything, just twists around without dislodging their hands or their position and presses a gentle kiss onto Stiles’ lips.

Maybe one day he’ll be better at using his words, but Stiles is practically fluent in Derek so he supposes it couldn’t be that bad.  And he smells the contentment and pride and love from Stiles, and Derek thinks that maybe he won’t need words for this.  Because even he couldn’t think of anything appropriate that could possibly come close to describing what he and Stiles share.

And whatever it was, it was theirs and theirs alone.