"Once we belive in ourselves, we can risk curiosity, wonder, spontaneous
delight, or any experience that reveals the human spirit."
ee cummings

Derek's running his thumb over the length of Stile's spine. He can feel every divot; the vertebrae rising and falling under the pad of his thumb. Stiles sighs in his arms. Her body stretches against him with a full and easy motion. It's a supine movement; relaxed, well-fucked, post-nap bliss.

The afternoon sun diffuses through his windows and dusty golden warmth caresses the bed where they lie. The light bathes them both as Derek's hands chase the sun up and down Stiles's body.

Stiles sighs again, her breath rising and falling as she slides a leg up and over his hip.

'You back again?' Derek asks, pressing a kiss to her scruffy nest of hair. He smooths it down just because he can, revelling in the feel of the soft brown strands under his fingers. It has been almost two months since they first started dating and his breath still catches when he touches her.

Stile's murmurs an agreement as she turns in his arms to look at him. Whatever she sees in his face makes her smile and lean up to kiss him.

'Mmm sex breath,' she teases, wrinkling her freckled nose with good humour as they pull apart. He huffs a laugh. She says it every time when he kisses her after eating her out or when they wake up from a post-fuck nap. If she really hated it, she wouldn't kiss him back, but she does kiss him so she mustn't really hate it.

She leans in to kiss him again, teeth nipping at his lips. Derek allows their tongues to twine lazily. It's messy. All sweet saliva and careless mouths. He sinks into the space that they share with a deep sense of contentment.

Their bodies smell like sex and sleepiness; the scent of each other lingering on their skin. It pleases the possessive instinct in him that he barely likes acknowledging except in rare circumstances.

All too soon Stiles is pulling herself upright; too ADHD to stay still for long. Her medication mediates some of it, but her brain and her body are always in motion. She's always thinking. Always moving. She's rarely ever still, even in sleep. Derek compensates the loss of her body heat by running a hand down her side. He follows the scattered patterns of her freckles with his fingers, making constellations of them over her skin.

There's a thought brewing behind her eyes and he waits it out, running his hands over her skin with growing intention.

He's rewarded for his patience when she asks, 'Hey… Derek, did you ever think about me before you and I got together that night?'

Her words still him, his hands stopping at her hips, his gaze caught in hers as guilt - old, stale guilt - rises. Yes, he had thought of her before that night of neon glow and first-time touches. He had thought of her, guiltily, ever since he accidentally saw her through parted curtains and the image of her naked body has burned its way into his breath and onto his brain. Then, as now, she had been beautiful. Then, as now, shame and the need to confess catches at him.

Stiles cocks her head at him as he nods slowly. She prods him when he doesn't say anything more.

'And?'

'It was an accident-'

'You thought about me on accident?' she says, looking distinctly unimpressed.

'I… saw you on accident.' At her opened mouth, he adds hurriedly, 'I'd been running and I needed to talk to you so I swung by your room. I thought you were having a nightmare.' His cheeks flame a little at the memory. 'You weren't.'

Stiles is quick to catch on. Her puzzled frown shifts to one of realisation as she says, 'Hang on, are you saying that you saw me…'
At his ashamed nod her face turns red and her hands fly up to her mouth. 'Were you watching me?!'

'By accident! I left as soon as I realised.'

'Oh my god, Derek!' Her face has gone flaming red, but she shifts quickly from embarrassment, a considering tone in her voice. 'So… I take it you liked what you saw.'

'I tried not to think about it,' he says, ducking his head to avoid her gaze.

'Tried, huh?' Stiles says. There is a slight tease in the corners of her growing smile. He would've leaned up to kiss it if he didn't feel so shamefaced. 'So, you only tried to not think about it…' she pauses and then asks, 'Did you jerk off afterwards?'

'Stiles!' Derek exclaims. He can feel himself go burning hot.

'You did, didn't you,' Stiles says with a grin.

Stiles, Derek feels, is perversely delighted about this.

'You were… very compelling,' he admits huskily.

'What a gentleman,' Stiles teases. She slides to straddle him, hips over his. Even despite his embarrassment she is beautiful like this. Her long limbs are pale and mole-dotted. Her muscly, adrenaline fuelled body rises above him. She's all small breasts, angles, and downy stomach hair.

He can't help touching her. His hands find her hips all on their own; thumbs fitting perfectly in the hollows of her hipbones. Her weight is just resting on him - naked heat and pressure just above where he wants in most. His cock nestles just below the curves of her ass. He's getting hard just from looking at her.

'You know what I'm thinking of right now?' Stiles asks.

Derek doesn't but her gaze is dark and shining with wicked intent. It sends shivers down him. She's planning something, he can tell. It's hiding in the corners of her lips.

'I'm thinking about you watching me,' Stiles continues. Her voice is casual whilst her smile is anything but. It's a cat's smile; curving and sly. Derek can't look away from her. He's caught in place. She grinds down on him, hips twisting and spine sinuous, as she speaks. 'Watching me and knowing that I'm touching myself, feeling myself, while you're having to wait in agony, unable to do anything but watch as I come.'

Derek must look ridiculous staring up at her, pupils blown black and mouth hungry, but he's too caught up in her words and in the way that she moves on top of him.

'And I'm just moaning your name, not even caring that you're trembling – desperate to touch me, desperate to touch yourself – just getting off on you watching me fuck my fingers.'

Her last few words have a filthy edge to them, the words rolling off the tongue with a lewd snap. The rising groan in his throat cuts off by a snarl and Stiles's delighted shriek as he bundles her up and over, rolling himself on top in one fast movement.

Her hips are tight to his, her legs crossed around his waist as he presses her down. Stiles grins up at him, daring him to say something, to do something.

'I would watch,' he says into her ear. His voice is a low rumble and the way Stiles shivers at his voice makes him shake too. He rakes his hands down her back and pulls her tight to him, revelling in her breathy gasp.

'I'd watch you,' he continues, 'and not touch you even if you were dying for me to break. Even if you needed my fingers to come. I wouldn't touch you until you broke down and begged for me.' He nips at her ear lobe, grinning as she shudders into him. 'Would you beg for me Stiles? I'd be begging for you. Would you want me to fuck you huh?'

Stiles's eyes are dark, dark circles of blown pupils. She's nodding dumbly at him. Her mouth has fallen open; lips wet and breath skating over her tongue.

'Fuck, Derek.' Her voice is shaking, stunned, honest. 'Yeah, I'd want you to fuck me. I'm so fucking…' Her voice breaks with a groan as he sucks a bruising kiss onto her neck.

He can't help teasing her.

'Are you sure?' he asks. ''Don't you want to make me watch? Don't you want to tease me until you make yourself come?'

'No,' she almost whines her words, something he finds deeply amusing even as her desperation feeds the heat of his arousal. 'I want to fuck you. I want you to fuck me so much right now.'

Her scent is thick with desire and he presses his nose into her neck; inhaling greedily just because he can. She grinds her hips up into him and he sucks a kiss into the skin over her pulse. Her pleased gasp shivers out from her.

'I will,' Derek promises, words strung between sucking bites and teases of her small breasts, 'you ask me and I'll fuck you has hard as you want.'

'Then get in me!' she demands. There's a laugh in her voice but also needy desire and, God, she is beautiful like this. It stuns him every time. He could do this for hours; just teasing her – making her breathless with laughter and love.

She reaches down to touch him, hand around his cock, jacking him slow and easy with her thumb over the tip the way she knows he likes. Heat spreads in a molten wave over him.

'Fuck me Derek, come on. Fucking touch me already.'

He can't deny Stiles when she's like this, all dark eyes and lush perfect mouth.

Her next words cut off with a gasp as he finally his fingers on her. His thumb is down on her clit and making little circle motions that keep her shivering under him. She's hot and silky wet to the touch. Her breath sighs with pleasure. Little noises ride on each exhale.

'I want to feel you,' she says, 'come on Der', let me feel you.'

She pushes her hips against his as his cock, wet from her slick, slides against and then in. It's an easy movement - easy as breathing, easy as kissing her. She's hot and so good that he groans and drops his head against her collar bone.

Derek can feel his whole body swell with the fierce things she makes him feel. It threatens to spill out of him but he almost doesn't know how to say the hot and honest things that his body knows.

'Fuck, Stiles, I love you,' he doesn't think about the words, they just come; pushed on the out-breath of fucking and feeling.

Stiles stills for a second that feels like it stretches the edges of time. Just as the fear is crawling up his throat she's saying, 'I love you too. Derek, fuck, I love you too.'

His breath shakes as he pushes those last few inches into her, but it's okay because she's shaking too, and then they're sinking into a fast rhythm. She moves so well against him that in this moment they are one whole being.

She's so tight around him and it feels like her heat is burning him from the inside out.

He groans her name, reaching his hand down to thumb her clit again and each time they come together her breaths become cries of pleasure.

Her teeth set against his neck, biting nipping bruises that heal instantly. His name is falling from her lips like she has forgotten what it is to breathe without saying Derek, Derek, Derek.

He loses track of time in the slick of their naked bodies and in the pleasure building between them. The room darkens to dusk as grey shadows creep over them.

She's close, he can tell. Stiles is riding the white edge of climax as she makes tiny desperate whimpers with each thrust. He bends his head and rolls one her perfectly peeked nipples between his blunt teeth, and Stiles comes with a breathless cry.

She's boneless, pliant, trembling as he slows to ease her through it. He's so close himself that slowing down now is almost agonising but he waits for her to and start moving against him. She's clumsy and soft against him even as she pulls him towards her.

'Derek,' she gasps. His name sounds so good on her lips as he fucks into her. She scrapes her nails over his back and all his thoughts have become white-noise.

'You can come,' she gasps into his skin. 'Fuck I want to you to come,' she says and he does.

Her name is a groan in his mouth. The world goes white-black quiet behind his shut eyes. He floats on pleasure and the closeness of her body; it is as if he has been set adrift on the shores of her breath.

He comes to slowly. Pleasure suffuses his body as Stiles tucks herself against him, heaving breaths in tandem with his own.

'Were you serious?' she asks.

Derek answers without hesitation, saying firmly, 'I love you.'
That idea that she doubts what he's told her stings a bit, but he can understand why she'd check. He presses a kiss to her shoulder, soothing one of the bruises he's made there. 'I love you Stiles.'

She smiles at him, blissed, fond, and happy. 'I love you too Derek. But you know I meant about the watching, right? Because if you were… That's actually fucking hot.'

He can't help amusement that rises on his huff of breath.

'I was, yeah. But maybe not now.' He admits. Stamina or no, even werewolves need a break.

Stiles's laughter breaks the dusky gloom like a shard of vibrant colour.

'Fuck, not now,' she agrees, 'I need a goddamn nap.'

Derek's smile grows without him meaning it too and he pulls her closer to him. She fits against his body perfectly. Their limbs twist together and they become one body; impossible to tell where he begins or where Stiles ends.

'Nap then,' he agrees.

Stiles presses a kiss to his forearm, the only part of his body within lazy-easy reach, and sighs out an agreement. And there, in Derek's twilight room, they sleep.

(Crossposted from Ao3)

For Everhaunting on Ao3, who asked: 'Did Derek ever tell Stiles about him accidentally watching her get off? Did she know? DID SHE KNOW AND GET OFF ON BEING WATCHED?'

Questions, comments, author meta? Drop me a line!