Stiles and Derek have this thing they do in bed that isn't as embarrassing as it probably should be. When the werewolf is feeling patient and wants to take his time exploring the body he's mapped out so many times already, Stiles will try to provoke him into action by saying things like, "My, what big teeth you have." Derek will respond accordingly and do things in an attempt to make that amusement become desperation. It's a weird type of powerplay/roleplay that both enjoy.

It is exactly where the day finds them, in Stiles' bedroom. His father is at work; doubly fortunate because they neglected to close the door in favor of tearing each other's clothes off. Shed garments lie in a messy trail, all except their socks which Stiles insists they keep on. He heard somewhere that it makes for a better orgasm. Not that every orgasm he has with Derek isn't the best of his life; it is.

The naked boy is on his back on top of the sheets, cradled by a pair of deliciously muscular arms. His head lolls back to give Derek access to the fading love bite left from their last encounter. Rough stubble and gentle lips bring the tender skin back to a lovely flushed bruise. Stiles bites his lip at the throbbing sensation that travels straight to his dick and resists the urge to thrust up into the man on top of him.

Derek moves down to nip at his collar bone and slides a calloused hand up the brunet's side, causing a shiver.

"Why, Sourwolf, what big hands you have."

"The better to feel you with, Little Red." With the crimson hoodie abandoned in a heap on the floor, the nickname finds new meaning in the blush creeping down the boy's gorgeous neck.

Breath fans over Stiles' right nipple before it's enveloped in wet heat. Derek flicks the sensitive nub with his tongue and earns a weak moan. He grins at the small jolt beneath him every time his teeth make contact with skin. Foreplay is so much fun. The werewolf switches from the right side of the boy's heaving chest to the left and then back.

Just when he's sure of gaining the upper hand, Stiles quips, "My, what a naughty mouth you have."

Leaving him with an affirming swirl of tongue, Derek leans back and flashes his teeth. "All the better to tease you with."

The boy's eyes narrow almost imperceptibly. "What overinflated self confidence you have."

"For the sole purpose of matching your ego."

There was no malice in the words but Stiles is clearly annoyed by Derek's failure to maintain the game. Aiming for control of the situation- for it certainly isn't punishment- he reaches down and takes Derek's rock hard member in his hand. There's an audible stutter in his heartbeat and his pupils widen with arousal. He swallows but it does nothing to erase the need in his voice when he says, caught somewhere between a groan and a whisper, "What a thick cock you have..."

Derek's eyes take on a hungry gleam, growing red. He lowers himself slowly until their mouths are a mere fraction from touching. "The better to fuck you with."

Heated brown eyes squeeze shut as he claims Derek's mouth, fingertips pleading and relentless, raking down his back, trying to pull him closer. Their tongues plunge, and dance, tease, and taste, until he allows Derek dominance. Hips are moving in time and causing their erections to drag against each other, feeling like so much and not enough at the same time.

Able to catch his breath finally, Stiles moans outright. "You win," He says, "Hurry up and fuck me."

Derek hums into the hollow of the beautiful brunet's throat, lavishing attention to his possessive mark, and locks his hands on the boy's restless hips. Stiles is usually quick to surrender which pleases the werewolf's Alpha side into supplying whatever he wants. But, this time, Derek isn't so easy to manipulate. In fact, he is just getting started.