Work Text:
"'Cause you are the piece of me I wish I didn't need / Chasing relentlessly, still fight and I don't know why" - Clarity, Zedd
--
When Stiles lost his virginity the summer before his first year in college, he promised himself that he would not become That Guy: the virgin-minded horn dog who was determined to screw every being that so much as looked at him.
And Stiles was damn proud of his streak, until he hit The Jungle during his first summer break and ran into - well, it was a hook up, no names exchanged, but the guy responded well to 'dude' and 'man' and 'God.'
Stiles tried damn hard to forget his sharp eyes that flashed different colors in the club's lights, the stubble that created a rash all around his neck, the adorably crooked teeth he engaged Stiles' neck in one-sided battle of teasing pulls and tense bites. But the hook up gods were not in his favor, and Stiles was kind of okay with that.
It was like no matter who Stiles hooked up with at school, or whatever long or short term relationship he committed to, the guy from The Jungle hovered over Stiles' sexual expectations like a storm cloud. The guy ruined sex for him in the best possible way, and he didn't even have the nerve to give Stiles his name!
"Stiles, you're acting like this is a fresh wound," Erica groaned, rolling her eyes grandly. "This happened last year, get over it."
"There is no getting over it," Stiles hissed, moving up in the line when the person behind him grumbled pointedly. "I can't enjoy myself anymore because I keep thinking about how this douchebag can do it better!"
"Wow, what a loss," Lydia drawled. "You're such a baby. You're taking the sex you're getting for granted in favor of pining after a one night stand." She smacked him soundly on the chest before snapping, "Pull yourself together!"
"Jesus, Edna, chill!" Stiles squawked, recoiling from Lydia more dramatically than was called for. Thanks to his actions, he bumped into the person in front of him with his usual lack of finesse. The man he nudged turned around with a scowl on his face, thick eyebrows pulled in a damning v-shape.
"Could you maybe try to watch where you're going?" he snarled. Stiles started at the guy's aggression, but paused as he took in some pretty handsome features: well groomed scruff on a chiseled jaw, bulging muscles emphasized by angrily bunched hands. Stiles was appalled that this incredibly hot asshole would have to be on his shit list for the rest of the night.
"Dude, I bumped into you, I didn't piss on your doorstep. Calm down," Stiles said, crossing his arms in hopes that the guy wouldn't get a good look at his embarrassingly skinny shape.
The guy stepped forward menacingly, but was stopped instantly by a hand on his shoulder from an equally attractive blond standing behind him. "Derek, chill out, he didn't mean it."
"Thank you," Stiles said to the new guy before following the tug on his arm to face Erica. He couldn't help but peek over his shoulder to scope out his newfound enemy, this Derek, only to let out a small hiccough when he saw that his laser eyes were already attempting to burn a hole in his face. Stiles glared at Derek, determined to stand his ground, and the guy just smirked, a devastating blow to Stiles' resolve.
"You're going to bone him, aren't you?" Erica asked, her tone implying that she had seen this coming for miles.
"I'm insulted you think I'm too weak to resist some gloriously defined asswipe," Stiles sniffed. Lydia rolled her eyes and Erica harrumphed, but Stiles steadfastly ignored them in favor of checking out the jerk's ass. Just in case he saw it in the club so he would know to avoid it, of course.
--
"You're kind of pathetic," Erica shouted into Stiles' ear. Stiles jumped, his gaze pulled from his shoddy sight of Derek. The fact that Stiles knew his name made it seem like perfect sense to approach him with legs wide open, but Stiles refused to acquiesce to his desires. Stiles did not need to hook up with a jerkwad with anger issues, even if his jaw looked strong enough to sit on.
"Don't sugarcoat it," Lydia replied, sipping cooly from her dark drink. "He's a thirsty sap."
"You bet your ass I'm thirsty," Stiles said, desperately searching for an escape knowing his previous drinks would convince him to agree with his friends. "Drinks on me!"
Stiles didn't have to look over his shoulder to see Lydia and Erica's disapproval at his lame retreat, but he figured since he was treating them, he would be let off the hook. Stiles yelled his order to the bartender, his leg jiggling to the beat of the music resounding throughout the club.
He loved going out with his girls, especially now that he had no assignments to worry about for summer break. Even though they were both in committed relationships, Erica and Lydia were invested in finding someone for Stiles - or maybe it was just they were taking advantage of his wallet and propensity to agree with 90% of what they demanded. Either way, Stiles got drunk and/or laid at the end of the night, so what were a few losses of self-confidence and manhood?
Stiles was suddenly jostled from behind, and when he whipped around to see the offender, his heart thudded in his chest as he took in Derek's scowl. "Well, well, well," Stiles crowed over the music. "Look how the turn tables!"
"Shove it, Michael," Derek snarled. The fact that Derek even got that reference had Stiles fighting to just climb him like a tree. Derek made to stalk away, but like an out of body experience, Stiles saw his hand reach out and grip Derek's elbow.
"It's Stiles," he heard himself say. Derek shot him an incredulous look then glared at where Stiles was still gripping his arm. Stiles pulled away quickly, adding, "What, no threats on my life?" he asked. Even Stiles could tell how desperate he was to keep talking with Derek, but no matter how sad it was, at least he got to cop a feel.
"You're not even worth it," Derek said, sneering like Stiles was the scum of the earth. Stiles realized that Derek wasn't going anywhere when he leaned against the bar, looking too much like a male model for his own good. "Besides, I'm pretty sure it's adding insult to injury beating a kid with such an unfortunate name."
"I think you're confusing 'unfortunate' with 'unforgettable,'" Stiles said, leaning against the bar to face Derek. He was not engaging in flirting, oh no. This was simply a distraction tactic, like how skunks sprayed potential prey with their noxious gases. Just hopefully not as unpleasant an experience.
"Do I look like the kind of person who would screw up on a vocab test?" Derek said, smirking slightly. And now Stiles was just picturing Derek in a classroom setting with glasses and sweater vests and a damning title like Professor. To be fair, though Stiles never met someone as attractive as Derek at school, he did look vaguely familiar to Stiles in the dark lighting, which made no sense.
"You look like the kind of person who would scare the resident nerd into giving you the answers," Stiles replied.
"And would you be scared?" Derek asked, his eyes smoldering. Stiles felt his heart stutter, and he couldn't tell if he was more pissed that Derek obviously knew what he was doing, or that he was definitely falling for it.
"Well, why am I the nerd?" Stiles said, forcing their decidedly flirtatious conversation back into bantering grounds.
"Because no self-respecting bully could have a face like yours." And somehow, Derek made what was essentially a back handed compliment the best thing Stiles had ever heard.
Before Stiles could inquire about the positivity of Derek's argument, he was once again jostled by someone next to him, breaking the bubble Derek had created around him. The rush of the club around him forced Stiles to evaluate what a horrible life choice it would be if he pursued Derek. Once again looking for an out, Stiles looked down at the drinks he ordered and busied himself with slapping some bills on the table as payment. "Alcohol waits for no man!" he cried, grabbing at the drinks.
"A man, huh?" Derek said, eyeing Erica's ridiculously girly drink pointedly.
"What I put in my body is my business!" Stiles replied. Derek arched an eyebrow and Stiles replayed what he just said, flushing when he realized how bad it sounded. "Yeah, yeah, I hear it," Stiles muttered, finally turning away from Derek to return to his undoubtedly pissed friends.
Stiles was surprised to see Erica and Lydia had not deserted him - and he was less surprised to see that they both wore similar expressions of smugness. "Don't even say it," Stiles warned as he placed their drinks on the table.
"What, that you were totally getting your flirt on with Growly McGee?" Erica asked, cradling her drink in her hand like a classic movie villain.
"Or that he is totally checking you out right now?" Lydia added innocently, her eyes focused over Stiles' shoulder. Stiles couldn't help but follow Lydia's gaze and see Derek still standing at that bar. He met Stiles' gaze fearlessly and raised his glass in a wholly sarcastic gesture.
"What a catch," Lydia remarked in a loaded tone.
"Please stop me from hooking up with him," Stiles said, shivering at the phantom feel of Derek's eyes on the back of his head.
"I'd sooner stop the world from turning," Erica snorted, sharply downing her drink. "But if you are so sure, we just have to make you more available." With that, she grabbed his hand and pulled him onto the dance floor.
Erica was shameless in her attempt to get to the heart of the dance floor, pushing and grinding her way through the crowd with Stiles attached to her hand. When she reached a spot she deemed acceptable, Erica immediately wrapped her arms around Stiles' neck and started swaying with the music. And dancing, Stiles could do.
Being on the dance floor created such an odd time warp, so it could have been two minutes or twenty minutes before Stiles felt a hand like a brand clutch at his waist. "Act cool!" Erica hissed in Stiles' ear with a thumbs up before backing off.
Stiles tilted his neck to see his new dance partner and froze briefly when he recognized the stubble he had a front row seat to view. "Finally," Stiles groaned, pressing against the guy with the kind of wild abandon he would be ashamed of tomorrow morning. Erica totally owed him money for her pessimism against him running into his summer hookup again - and Stiles was going to stop thinking about Erica with the guy sliding his hand up Stiles' shirt.
Stiles gripped the guy's arm tightly, grinding on the hard length making an appearing against his ass, not even trying to stay on beat with the music so much as make his intent clear. It seemed the message was well received, given the way hot lips started to mark burning paths up and down Stiles' neck.
Stiles let out a moan when the guy bit softly right underneath his earlobe, a dangerously sensitive part that he apparently had no problem exploiting from the way his teeth gnawed on it. To repay the favor, Stiles tilted his head back to rub his cheek fiercely against the stubble, leaving open mouthed kisses wherever he could reach.
Desperate for some face-to-face action, Stiles wiggled out of the iron grip the guy had on him and turned around to face -
"What the fuck?" Stiles shrieked, taking quick steps out of Derek's personal space. Derek looked pretty unapologetic for all his secrecy and molesting.
"You - but I - we definitely - how could" -
Stiles never got a complete thought out before Derek rolled his eyes and grabbed Stiles' hand, forcing him to escape the crowd. Stiles didn't bother to struggle, Derek's built form speaking for itself, but he made sure to vocalize his unwillingness to follow Derek anywhere would his subterfuge could be perpetuated.
Derek pulled Stiles into the bathroom - which had Stiles on edge, considering the number of hookups that he had participated in these stalls - and all but shoved Stiles into a sink and shut down any hope of exiting by bracketing Stiles' body with his arms. Once again, Stiles was far too close to Derek, this time able to see those beautiful eyes he struggled to forget, and he prayed to the hook up gods in hopes they would ensure his pants stayed on.
"I knew it was you when I saw you tonight, but I didn't have any intention of pursuing you until you started flirting with me," Derek said all in one breath.
"I - flirting?" Stiles spluttered. "I did no such thing!"
"Oh, come on," Derek said, giving an exasperated shake of his head. "Don't be obtuse."
"Listen, I didn't even know that you were the same guy as last summer!" Stiles said. "And just for the record, I am not as easy as you think I am."
Derek let lose another one of his crippling smirks and, without any warning, ducked his head to nose up Stiles' neck. Stiles shuddered, hand shooting out to grip Derek's bicep. Derek nipped Stiles' neck, just once and quickly, and murmured, "Oh really?"
Stiles gulped audibly. "Okay, so maybe I am a little easy," he replied shakily. Derek chuckled against his skin, the warm puffs of breath on his neck making Stiles shudder. But by some miracle, Stiles summoned strength to raise one hand and shove it against Derek's chest. "But that totally doesn't excuse you just toying with me!"
"Toying with you?" Derek echoed incredulous. "Did I show up at a club in a ridiculous get up?"
"Ridiculous?" Stiles squawked. Derek was damn wrong and Stiles knew it: this was a Lydia approved get up, which meant that in some obnoxiously expensive area on the globe, people wore this at least three seasons ago.
"It's ridiculous how fast I want to take it off you," Derek growled, his hand closing around Stiles' side.
"God, how do you do that?" Stiles groaned. He was waving his white flag now, totally in surrender. Grabbing Derek by the neck, Stiles pulled him in and mashed their lips together. Derek responded immediately, taking control of the kiss with a tilt of his head and well-placed bites that made Stiles open up and greet Derek's tongue with his own. Stiles let his hand tug at Derek's thick hair, eliciting a groan from him that made Stiles' body arch into Derek's.
"Stall, we've gotta - " Stiles tried to gasp, barely allowing himself to pull away from Derek's lips.
"Yeah, yeah," Derek groaned, moving backwards and pulling Stiles with him. The second the door shut behind them, Derek thankfully remember to slide the lock in, Stiles was shoved against the door, Derek absolutely mauling his mouth.
Stiles groaned, hitching leg around Derek's waist and lifting his hips up to meet Derek's. Derek released Stiles' mouth and latched onto his neck again, moving his hands down into the top of Stiles' pants, massaging his ass thoroughly.
"God, how are you even real?" Stiles whined, rubbing his dick furiously against Derek's erection, tugging intermittently at Derek's hair.
"Fuck - I could ask you the same question," Derek replied before delivering a punishing thrust that made Stiles see stars.
"Pants off, oh my god," Stiles gasped, shoving at Derek's body to give him some room. Derek, in a surprising show of compliance, leaned back, letting Stiles fumble with the button of his pants and pull the zipper down. Derek followed suit, shimming his pants down so that they fell at his knee.
His erection stood proudly in his briefs, the tip of his dick poking out of the stretchy material. If Stiles cared less about the state of the bathroom floors, he would have dropped to his knees right then and there. But as it was, Stiles looped his leg around Derek's and pulled them back together. Twin moans bounced around the stall when their clothed dicks met, and Stiles grabbed at Derek's cheek, bringing their lips back together.
"Next time," he breathed against Derek's lips when they separated minutes later, "we're going to do this in a bed. And I'm going to blow the hell out of you."
Derek gasped, his hips stuttering from the sinuous grinding he'd been keeping up. "Your fucking mouth," he hissed, reaching down to hold Stiles' length. This time Stiles shuddered, thrusting into the grip Derek offered.
"Please," Stiles sighed, craning his neck back against the wall as Derek rubbed the tip of his dick, collecting the precome budding there and using it to facilitate moving up and down his shaft.
Derek shoved Stiles' underwear down, and his as well, clutching at Stiles' bare ass to slide their dicks together. A high pitched whine died in the back of Stiles' throat when Derek's hot length met his. The smooth slide almost felt too good, and Stiles thanked his dick's propensity to weep at times like these.
"Jesus, you're so good," Derek murmured, thrusting against Stiles, his hands seizing randomly against his hips. He suddenly reached down and grabbed at both their dicks, jacking them together. Stiles felt his toes curl in his shoes at the sparks of pleasure shooting through him, his stomach churning with molten lava as Derek expertly twisted his hand at the head, sliding his thumb in the skit briefly before making his way back to Stiles' balls.
Stiles tried to make up for all of Derek's work, using the hand not hanging onto Derek's shoulder for dear life and fondling Derek's balls, rubbing and tugging at the soft sacs. Derek muffed his moan on Stiles' shoulder, kissing and nipping at the exposed skin.
"God, Derek, I'm close," Stiles whimpered, desperately thrusting into Derek's sure grip.
"Good," Derek bit out, his hand moving quicker on their lengths. "Been wanting to see you come all night."
Stiles choked back a moan at that, his legs shuddering as he approached his climax. Stiles then realized that Derek's hand had travelled from his hip to his ass, moving in between the crack so that one finger played at his hole. There was a slight pressure from a dry finger pressing in and Stiles was just gone. His eyes rolled back as ropes of his come covered Derek's hand and the bottom of his shirt and he thrust through his aftershocks, fighting to keep his breath.
Derek was still pumping his dick after Stiles slid out of his grip, his face screwed up in a telling way that told Stiles he was just on the edge. Stiles took his hand and covered Derek's, moving along their combined lengths together. "You look so good right now with my come on your hands," Stiles murmured, speaking against Derek's parted lips. "Wanna taste?"
Derek whimpered, nodding furiously. Stiles swiped some of his come off Derek's hand and smeared it against his lips before leaning in and kissing Derek with every filthy trick he ever learned. Derek shook violently and Stiles felt his release on his hand and his shirt, his dick twitching as if to get started again at the feel of Derek's dick moving against his and his finger still absently rubbing against his entrance.
Stiles and Derek breathed for several long minutes, their lips still touching, both wet with spit and Stiles' come. Once Stiles felt less like he'd just run a marathon, he shoved Derek's weight off him (because the guy just collapsed on him like a limp noodle, real fucking sweet) and started to collect his clothes together.
"For the record, you totally owe me after this idiotic game you pulled me into," Stiles said, trying to ignore Derek's sex-stupid expression.
"How can I, when we both emerged as winners?" he replied cheekily, leaning in to kiss the corner of Stiles' mouth.
"Don't act cute, dude," Stiles warned, already feeling his heart melt.
"I'll tell you what," Derek said, caging Stiles in again with his arms and an easy smile. "You stop trying to deny you were an unwilling participant in this, and I'll pretend you're not as easy as you really are."
Stiles felt a smile pull up his lips against his will. "Now why do I feel like I'd get the short end of the stick with that deal?"
"You know I'd make it worth your while," Derek murmured, his tone all sorts of dangerous as he brought at hand up to stroke Stiles' cheek.
"God, I wish you had stayed away," Stiles groaned, not fighting the urge to nuzzle Derek's cheek. Despite the fact that Stiles had called Derek a bully looking for answers, it didn't take a genius to figure out that Stiles was lying, so Stiles figured he deserved Derek shoving his face with the same hand he had been so affectionately petting Stiles' cheek.
"You traitor," Stiles chuckled. Even with his embarrassingly obvious easiness - which, Stiles would have to have words with his friends for letting this key fact slip by without holding an intervention - Stiles could at least admit his relief that his trigger was finally within his grasp.
"I liked you better as last year's hook up," Derek said, grinning when Stiles spluttered, shoving Derek off him.
"Keep it up and I'll only be this year's hook up," Stiles said primly. And if Derek said something about Stiles being easy as Stiles moved to leave the stall, it was only Stiles' duty to show Derek just how willing of a participant he was.