"A lot of things," he says easily, like they're talking about the weather and not sex. He slides his fingers through the slit in Derek's briefs and circles his long fingers around his heated length, groaning at the hot weight of it in his palm as he strokes slowly.

"Like riding you, fucking myself on your dick after you've opened me up with your fingers and tongue, after you've gotten me all slick and wet and ready for you," Stiles pants out, verbally confessing one of his dirtiest fantasies. He moans loudly as he grinds up into Derek's fingers, the touch too much and not enough.

"I've also," the teen pauses to lick his lips, wet his mouth a little. "Though about doing the same, getting you on your back or your knees and eating you out, slicking you up and fucking you. If- if you'd want that, of course," because he sure as hell wouldn't just because it was something he wanted, if Derek didn't want it too.