Stiles is relaxing in the sauna, his muscles unclenching and loosening gloriously in the heat, losing all their tension after an intense day of trying to keep up with four and a half werewolves on a snowboard. Stiles left the rest of the pack splashing each other raucously in the main pool, earning disapproving looks from the couples reclining at the poolside.

Derek is grabbing a drink at the bar, ignoring the lingering gaze of the barmaid who ogles his defined torso hungrily. He slurps it quickly, and walks away. It's not that he minds the attention, it's just that it would be nice to escape the constant stares whenever he has his shirt off. What annoys him most is the young women who throw themselves at him; brushing them off is easy but it only reminds him of a certain teenager whose attention he can't seem to attract. Stiles doesn't ignore him, sure, but his awkward yet enthusiastic attitude is one that he applies to the whole pack. Derek can feel frustration rumbling inside him and decides to head to the sauna.

Stiles is half asleep when Derek enters, his head resting on a bench behind him, his lips parted; he drags one eye open to distinguish a broad torso and chiselled jawline in the low, orange light. Stiles nods towards him, drawing his eyes up Derek's rippling abs to meet his eyes just as he walks into the glow. His expression is puzzled, or curious, Stiles doesn't know which. There's something else in his eyes, though, a hunger that Stiles hasn't seen before, one that is entirely unrelated to the hunger of his wolf, one that he doesn't understand-

Derek is feeling impulsive: unlike the rest of the pack, he spent all day inside, in the hotel, sorting out tedious pack business back home. The pent up energy threatens to explode from him, so he crashes forwards, tipping Stiles' head towards his and capturing his mouth in a kiss that both calms and excites him.

Stiles is only partly awake when he first feels Derek's mouth on his. The insistent pressure, the devouring warmth awaken him as he lethargically curves his body towards Derek's. Derek places his knees at Stiles' hips, straddling him; he places his hand on the back of Stiles' neck, drawing their mouths together again furiously.

Stiles has kissed before, but never like this. For one thing, he never thought making out would be quite so frenzied and almost angry. One thing's for sure: he likes it, he likes Derek, and most surprisingly, Derek likes him. He pulls back for a second, a semi-incoherent question falling from his lips: "But you- you're gay?" Derek rolls his eyes and leans forward slightly so Stiles can feel Derek's hard member through their trunks. Derek captures Stiles' mouth as he gasps. They're both hard now, and Derek glides his hands across Stiles' chest. He is pleasantly surprised to find that Stiles' stomach is walled with muscle that he usually hides under layers of t-shirts. His hand reaches the waistband of Stiles' trunks. Derek breaks away from their kiss to gauge Stiles' response: he nods, his eyes heavy-lidded with desire.

Derek slides his hand along Stiles' length, watching intently for each moan and each curse that Stiles utters, increasing the pace as Stiles shudders and sighs his name, "Derek". Stiles saying his name just as he comes hard into Derek's fist sends a shock rippling icy cold down Derek's spine. Stiles stretches up to kiss Derek ardently, fumbling with Derek's shorts. Derek is surprised when Stiles pushes him to roll onto his back, swapping their positions that Stiles can bend down and take Derek's dick into his mouth.

"You don't have to-" Derek begins to say but then his breath catches, astonished by the force and skill with which Stiles is sucking his dick. He hums, and the vibration nearly drives Derek over the edge. It isn't long before Derek is moaning Stiles' name as bright light obscures his vision. He tugs Stiles' hair to warn him but Stiles stays firm on his dick, peering up at him with a lustful look on his face that makes Derek come even harder down his throat. When Derek flops back, spent, Stiles crawls up over him, licking his lips and kisses him once more-

"What the hell has happened here?" Their moment of peace is shattered by the disgusted tone of one Jackson Whittemore, closely followed by Lydia, who exclaims, "at last! You two should've got it on years ago."

The pair of them leap apart guiltily but it is clear even to non-werewolf senses what debauchery occurred minutes previously. They smile at each other from opposite sides of the room. Derek nods his head towards the door and leads Stiles upstairs to his own room, where he intends to corrupt him further.