Stiles lets Derek peel off his shirt, because he's so eager, wants it so much and he can taste the desire pouring off his skin. He'll tease if he wants to, regardless whether Derek thinks he can handle it or not. You'd be surprised what you can handle, how much you can take.
"You should have told me…" he can tell now, but if he hadn't made the deal, if he didn't have the darkness within him, he still wouldn't be able to tell, would be busy second guessing himself every step of the way.
"I should make you pay for that," he adds with a conspiratorial nod and a little smirk as he goes for Derek's shirt, tugging it up his torso, exposing his taut, muscular stomach, taking the time to drag fingertips over his skin.
"…and I might, if you wouldn't like it so much," he adds, fingertips dragging over his nipples before he peels the shirt up and off, tossing it aside. The fact that he'd enjoy it won't stop Stiles from pushing, from punishing him for keeping his secret all this time. Especially because he knows the best, the most effective way to punish Derek is to keep what he wants just out of reach. It was more thorough a punishment than anything rough and physical he could dream up, to just leave him aching and wanting.
Stiles shifts his hips, making sure Derek can feel just how hard he's getting, and he leans in, hands on his shoulders and pushing him, pinning him back against the wall, and he's talking in Derek's ear, "…you know, Derek, there's nothing wrong with wanting to be fucked like that…"
He's not talking about just what he'd said, just that he wants it hard. He's talking about wanting to be fucked like a wolf.
"…knotted," he practically growls against his ear and shifts close enough that their chests brush, "Bred like a bitch… you'd like that, wouldn't you? Just being so full of my cock and my come…"
And there is a hint of that old Stiles, the Stiles that flushed when he was flustered as well as when he was aroused. He's flushed now, cheeks ruddy with arousal, and his lips are brushing against Derek's neck, his breath hot on his skin.
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Date: 2013-09-30 03:31 am (UTC)"You should have told me…" he can tell now, but if he hadn't made the deal, if he didn't have the darkness within him, he still wouldn't be able to tell, would be busy second guessing himself every step of the way.
"I should make you pay for that," he adds with a conspiratorial nod and a little smirk as he goes for Derek's shirt, tugging it up his torso, exposing his taut, muscular stomach, taking the time to drag fingertips over his skin.
"…and I might, if you wouldn't like it so much," he adds, fingertips dragging over his nipples before he peels the shirt up and off, tossing it aside. The fact that he'd enjoy it won't stop Stiles from pushing, from punishing him for keeping his secret all this time. Especially because he knows the best, the most effective way to punish Derek is to keep what he wants just out of reach. It was more thorough a punishment than anything rough and physical he could dream up, to just leave him aching and wanting.
Stiles shifts his hips, making sure Derek can feel just how hard he's getting, and he leans in, hands on his shoulders and pushing him, pinning him back against the wall, and he's talking in Derek's ear, "…you know, Derek, there's nothing wrong with wanting to be fucked like that…"
He's not talking about just what he'd said, just that he wants it hard. He's talking about wanting to be fucked like a wolf.
"…knotted," he practically growls against his ear and shifts close enough that their chests brush, "Bred like a bitch… you'd like that, wouldn't you? Just being so full of my cock and my come…"
And there is a hint of that old Stiles, the Stiles that flushed when he was flustered as well as when he was aroused. He's flushed now, cheeks ruddy with arousal, and his lips are brushing against Derek's neck, his breath hot on his skin.