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Stiles is pissed, okay? Like, not a little, but a lot. It's his birthday. Birthday? The whole pack decided to take him out to a club because he wanted to dance with his boyfriend. His boyfriend who has been conveniently missing for most of the day.
Getting into Scott's car after dinner, he grumbles, "Just take me home, Scotty." Knowing that his friend is frowning, Stiles turns and watches the scenery out the window.
"Stiles." "Just don't, okay? I'm sure he's got some excuse, and if I'm gonna hear it, then it's gonna be from him." He lets his eyes flutter closed and thinks over the past few weeks of his relationship with Derek. It's the happiest he's ever been.
They'd been dancing around each other for almost a year, neither wanting to make the first move. It was, coincidentally, at a dance club that they finally talked about their feelings after Stiles confronted Derek for getting angry whenever someone hit on him. It was one of the main reasons he wanted to go dancing for his birthday.
But Derek had suddenly disappeared after lunch. He'd missed Stiles's birthday dinner and now would, apparently, be missing the club. Stiles would be worried, but the pack keeps assuring him that Derek is fine, just busy. So, to say he's disappointed would be a bit of an understatement.
Sighing, he opens his eyes. Frowning upon realizing where he's at, he says to his friend, "uh, Scotty, last time I checked, I didn't live in the warehouse district." "I know, I just—listen, Kira left her jacket at Derek's last time we were there. I gotta grab it for her. If it were mine, I'd just leave it, but it's Kira's."
He groans in frustration. "Fine," he grits out, "but I'm staying in the car."
"Uh, actually, it might go faster if you help me look." Stiles turns and glares at his friend. "I'm just saying… I mean, look—" Scott points to the parking lot— "Derek's car isn't even here. We'll be in and out if you help me. She doesn't remember where she left it; besides, Derek could have moved it, and—"
Rolling his eyes, Stiles gets out of the car as soon as Scott puts it in park. "Yeah, yeah, and I'm the one with the keys. Let's just hurry up and grab her jacket."
He's amazed upon entering the building to find that the always-broken elevator is actually working today. Well, that's at least one pleasant birthday surprise. He really shouldn't complain, though. Besides his missing boyfriend, he's actually had a really good day. He woke up to said boyfriend feathering kisses over his back, which led to the best sex he's ever had, but if he's candid, every moment with Derek is slowly becoming the best ever.
After another round in the shower, Derek took him to meet the sheriff for lunch. It was then that Derek disappeared. The wolf had received a phone call, which left him antsy. He'd muttered an excuse and took off, initially saying he'd be back to pick Stiles up for dinner, but when dinner rolled around, suddenly Scott was there to pick him up, saying Derek was running late.
At first, he'd been a little upset, but his temper continued to rise as the night drew on. It's probably actually a good thing that Derek's not at his loft. Stiles has a few choice words at not only being ditched but at being ditched on his birthday, no less.
The elevator dings and the doors open. Stiles rushes out in front of Scott, pulling out the key to the loft and inserting it into the lock. Scott barks out a laugh and teases him in a too-loud voice. "Jeez, Stiles. I know we're in a rush, but you could slow down a little."
"You alright there, Scotty? I mean, I'm pretty sure the whole floor doesn't need to know we're here."
"Yeah, yeah. Just open the door, Stiles."
He stares quizzically at his friend as he pushes the door open. He lets out a very manly squeak when a chorus of 'Surprise' is yelled out at him.
"Oh my God!" He looks to the crowd of people. His father and the entire pack are present, the only exception being Derek. Trying to smile, he greets them as they come up to wish him a happy birthday.
Slowly, he's pushed towards the center of the loft, where there's a single chair. He scrunches his face in confusion when he notices that all the furniture has been pushed to the side.
Scott shoves him into the chair and the lights dim. He looks around when the music starts playing. A spotlight shines on the loft door. When the hell did Derek get a spotlight? The door is opened, and a firefighter stands in the doorway. The light is shining on the man's face, so Stiles can't make out who it is. He's curious, though, because he knows everyone in the BHFD.
To the tune of Nelly's 'Hot in Herre,' the fireman starts moving his body in time with the music. Once the man is out of the light, Stiles gasps at the realization that it's Derek in the firefighter apparel. What the hell? He wants to get up, but the look on Derek's face has him rooted in place.
There's a fierce determination with every movement and Stiles can't help but appreciate the fact that this man is wearing full firefighter gear, probably sweating his ass off, dancing and stripping?! in front of not only his entire pack but the sheriff, too. It might not fully explain his absence for most of the day, but as far as make-ups go, this is a pretty good one.
Derek sways behind him, and the helmet is placed on his head. He giggles, trying to look back at his boyfriend. Suddenly, the coat is draped over his shoulders. Derek is still behind him, so he has a view of the guests. He can see Erica laughing with Boyd and Isaac in the corner while his father and Scott stand cringing in the kitchen. Most others are talking amongst themselves, not seeming to care about the show Derek is putting on.
The music slows down, and 'Pillowtalk' by Zayn starts playing. Stiles wonders who Derek borrowed the gear from because the BHFD shirt is obscenely tight over his chest, barely containing the abs underneath. If Stiles didn't have a thing for firefighters before, he certainly does now. Stiles is sure every single wolf in the room can smell the arousal he's exuding. Hell, he's pretty sure everyone can see the boner he popped.
He's not sure how Derek moves so smoothly in the turnout gear, but he does, and soon, the suspenders are sliding off the man's shoulders. Stiles licks and bites at his lower lip, watching Derek shake his hips, knowing precisely what those hips can do. This morning's festivities replay in his mind, and his head thumps back as he groans when Derek bends over right in front of him. He almost reaches out to touch but remembers that there are others present.
Wondering exactly how much of a show Derek is willing to put on, Stiles is unsurprised to see his dad and Scott ushering the pack out when Derek starts unhooking the fly of the pants. He laughs at his father's grimace and Erica's protests, but only momentarily.
Biting at his knuckles, he suppresses a moan when the pants drop, and Derek steps out of them. He sends a silent thank you to the heavens when he sees the tight black boxer briefs Derek loves to wear, that Stiles loves for him to wear, because they leave nothing to the imagination, as he watches Derek's thigh muscles flex beneath the material.
There's another song change, and Stiles shakes his head when Britney Spears begins playing. "Really, Derek." His voice comes out rough with lust. "I'm a slave for you?"
No longer limited by the turnout gear, Derek throws a leg over Stiles's lap and begins grinding against him. "It seemed… appropriate."
Bringing his hands up, he hovers them over Derek's thighs. Quirking an eyebrow up, he asks, "am I allowed to touch?" There's a smile playing on Derek's lips. "Usually the answers no," the 'wolf leans over Stiles, and whispers in his ear, "but I have it on good authority that it's your birthday."
Stiles chuckles and runs his hands up Derek's legs and over his hips. "I can't believe you did this for me."
Derek leans back and stares into his eyes, searching. No longer grinding against him, the music is forgotten. The wolf cups Stiles's face, thumbs running along his cheeks. "I'm so sorry I left during lunch. I'm sorry I missed dinner, messed up our plans for the club."
"Der—" Stiles shakes his head.
"No, I just—" Derek gestures around the loft— "I had this planned for after the club, but then Erica called and said there was a mix-up, and the gear didn't come in, so I had to scramble to find something to borrow. Then there was an actual fire, so I had to wait for—" Stiles presses a finger to Derek's lips, silencing the man. "Derek, I'll admit that I was upset—" he rolls his eyes when the 'wolf scoffs at him— "Okay, I was pissed, but seriously, the fact that you wanted to do this for me, that you went through so much to do this for me... Thank you." Running his hands up Derek's chest and around his shoulders, he pulls Derek back down and into a kiss.
The gentle kiss soon turns heated, and Stiles nips at Derek's bottom lip. He feels a rumble against him as Derek growls into the kiss. There's a hard press against his stomach as Derek starts rocking against him. There's a rhythm to the movement, and as Stiles listens carefully, he grins when he figures out that Derek is moving in time to the 'Earned It' by The Weeknd.
"I didn't finish my dance," Derek muttered against his lips.
Watching as Derek leans back and pulls his shirt over his head, Stiles groans appreciatively at the wall of muscles on display. Laughing as Derek swats his hand away when he feathers light touches over the man's abs.
Stiles settles back into the chair, placing his hands on Derek's hips, helping him grind in time with the music. It's slow and sensual, and it's not long before he surges up against Derek, unable to hold back his desire to be taken by the man.
Soon, he's carried to bed and ends his day, just as it began, with the best sex ever.