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It started with empty cabinets.
Stiles had been over at the loft for the weekend. It was still early in the day on Saturday, and Stiles had just fucked Derek so well his knees were still weak and his head was still fuzzy. He'd fucked him over the edge of the bed, kneeling behind him to eat him out, smearing spit all over his ass, getting him swollen and wet. Then he used way too much lube, telling Derek that it was a shame that he couldn't experience what it felt like to be fucked open and sore for hours afterwards, so he'd just have to leave him wet and sloppy instead. Derek came against his own thigh, Stiles jacking him down from behind so he dripped into the jeans bunched around his ankles. Stiles came inside him, spent a couple minutes letting the mess of come and lube slide out before pushing it back in with a thick finger, reveling in the looseness of his hole before his healing kicked in.
Then he wrapped him back in this sinfully tight jeans, wet and messy and covered in come.
Derek was still empty eyed and gasping when Stiles held him up and dressed him.
“It's okay, baby, you did so good for me,” Stiles mumbled in his ear, pressing praise in tiny kisses against his hot cheeks. He gentled him down to the bed, allowing him to lay down and recover after what Stiles considered to be a mild scene. But few things were ever mild for Derek, so he laid him down, and pressed kisses to his slack mouth until he started to kiss back.
“There's my sweet boy,” Stiles said, beaming at the wolf as awareness came back into his features. Derek blushed, like he always did. “Feel good?”
“Yeah, Daddy,” he said, voice rough from screaming. Stiles smiled at him.
“Let me get you a snack, hm?” he said, his voice gentle and loving as he rubbed a hand back through his partners sweat soaked hair.
“Okay,” he said, starting to come back to himself a little more. Stiles got up from the bed and wandered into the kitchen section of the loft, obscured from Derek’s view by the cabinets and bar. He heard him banging around for a while, opening and closing cabinet doors. After a couple minutes, Derek felt the back of his pants get damp from the come leaking out of him. He pressed a hand to the fabric over his hole, moaning at how warm and wet it was getting, whining a little at feeling Stiles’ come leave him. His dick started to thicken in his jeans, wet in the front by his own come. He liked it, liked feeling wet and messy, liked feeling like Stiles was still in him. Even as his head started to clear, there was a lingering fuzziness behind his eyes every time he thought about the sloppy state of his hole.
“Der, you’ve got no food,” Stiles said, exasperatedly, coming back to the bed empty handed. “How am I supposed to take care of you if there’s no food in the house?” Derek smiled sleepily at the thought of his boyfriend wanting to take care of him. “Better question,” Stiles continued. “How do you expect me to exist here for the whole weekend without snacks? And I mean terrible, unhealthy snacks.”
Derek grinned, sitting up gingerly in the bed, feeling lube and come squelch in his jeans. He shuffled to the edge and held Stiles by the hips.
“Then I guess you’d better take me shopping,” he said, eyes drifting closed when Stiles ran a big hand back through his hair.
“I’m hungry now, let’s order in.”
“You said last time you were here that you couldn’t eat any more takeout because it was so greasy you were making yourself sick. Let’s just go to the store.” He kissed his hip, sliding his sweat-damp shirt up with a thumb to touch his soft skin.
“You sure you’re good?” Stiles asked, hands squeezing the thick muscles of his neck and shoulders.
“Yeah, I’m good,” he said, swatting Stiles’ ass gently. “Let’s go.”
Which brought them to Stiles’ jeep, leisurely making their way to the store. Derek hated that the Jeep was a stick shift. He liked the competence and experience with which Stiles drove it, forearm and hand flexing on the shaft, veins pornographic. But he hated that it meant he couldn’t hold his hand. He settled for his hand on his thigh, squeezing the muscle and fingering the inseam. At a stop sign, Stiles gave him a look, a little hungry, and asked what he thought he was doing.
Derek leaned over the center console to kiss him and ended up moaning in his mouth when he felt hot wetness slip out of him. Stiles groaned against him too, hands fisting in the short hair at the nape of his neck, kissing him until a car honked behind them. They pulled apart, gasping, and Stiles made the turn.
“Let me blow you,” Derek whispered, still stretched over to his side of the car. “Right now,” he said, cupping Stiles where he was half hard in his jeans.
“Fuck, Der, yes,” Stiles hissed, grabbing him by the back of the neck and pulling his face down to bury in his groin. Derek fitted his mouth over the hard curve of him, feeling him swell under against the careful press of his teeth and tongue. He worked down the zipper with one hand and his mouth before sinking down on his cock, growing to its full hardness in his mouth.
The car lurched forward as Stiles stepped on the accelerator, shoving his hips up into his partner’s mouth. Derek sputtered in his lap, mouth flooding with saliva.
“You good, babe?” Stiles asked, already breathless. “Can you take it all for me?” Derek moaned around him, nodding his head as much as he could with a thick cock nudging at his throat. “Yeah, my sweet boy,” Stiles mumbled, one hand dropping from the steering wheel to press down on the back of his head. “Choke on my dick, that’s a good boy.”
Derek couldn’t breathe well, his throat filled with cock, and his head went quiet as his blood ran hot with the pleasure of being well used and useful.
“Such a good boy,” Stiles gasped, always dripping with praise for his boy. “You’re getting me all wet, drooling on my cock,” he said, sliding his hand down to press one fingertip against Derek’s lips. “Getting all wet and sloppy, just like your slutty little hole, isn’t that right, baby?”
“Daddy,” Derek said, but with a cock in his mouth, it was just a croak of need. Stiles seemed to know though, sliding a hand down his boy’s back, telling him how good he was, what a sweet little slut he was, how he was Daddy’s good boy. Derek was choking, shoving his face down on Stiles’ dick, and he had to grab the wheel with both hands, white knuckled and gasping as his balls drew up tight.
“Such a good boy, such a good boy,” he gasped, hips jolting into his mouth, feeling thick spit sliding down his shaft, chased by his boyfriend’s swollen, hungry mouth. It was when Derek took him deep, gagging, throat convulsing around the head of his dick, lips just an inch or two from the base of his cock, that Stiles came, spraying his throat with come, groaning loud, eyes barely open enough to see the road.
Derek swallowed, gasping and wet-mouthed, face red and head quiet.
“Thank you, Daddy,” he said, rubbing his fucked out mouth on the rough denim of his partner’s jeans, probably smearing them with spit. Stiles groaned again, wiping a hand down his face before looking down at his partner with a sex-drunk smile.
“You’re amazing,” he said, thumbing at his wet chin. Derek hummed, shifting up into his seat, wet and messy.
Stiles tucked himself back in one handedly as they pulled onto the street that led to the more populated part of town. Derek settled happily in his seat, leaning his hot forehead against the window, feeling small in his skin as he closed his eyes and existed only in the familiar rocking of the jeep and Stiles’ heartbeat.
“Der, babe, we’re here,” Stiles said, his hand grabbing Derek’s and squeezing, pulling him back to reality a little. He must’ve seen Derek’s loose focus, because he grinned with cheeks still flushed from coming and asked, “Do you wanna stay in the car? Take a nap? I can be quick.”
“No, I’ll come in,” he said, smiling back reassuringly. He wished for a second that he could just sit there and wait, and that Stiles would unclip his seat belt for him and open the door for him and help him out. But he shook his head and did it himself, stepping out and taking a deep breath of brisk fall air. When he walked around the Jeep, Stiles was waiting for him, hand outstretched for him. Derek held on tightly as they crossed the street.
Stiles grabbed a cart, kissing the back of Derek’s hand before putting it on the side of the cart, smiling indulgently when he held on, wanting to keep him close. Derek was quiet for much of the trip, letting Stiles do all the shopping for him, for them. When Stiles waggled a box of strawberries at him, Derek smiled lovingly, happy to have someone who knew all his favorites, and enjoyed getting them for him.
As they turned through the aisles, cart slowly filling up, Stiles pulled him in again, kissing him gentle before positioning him between him and the cart, caging him in as they walked, his chin hooked on his shoulder.
“How are you doing?” he asked quietly, brushing a dry kiss to his neck.
“I’m good, Daddy,” Derek said just as quietly, leaning back into his chest for a moment. They’d never done this outside of the bedroom before, definitely not in public. Derek usually only felt like calling his boyfriend that when his cock was deep in his ass. But now it just felt right, to keep his eyes on the ground and let Stiles lead him, trusting him to take care of him. It helped that it was a quiet day in the store and that Derek’s hole was still wet and leaking. His head felt small and Stiles was here to take care of him, so he thought that was okay.
“I think when we get home, we should make hot chocolate, and pick out a couple movies and spend the whole day cuddled up on the couch, how does that sound?” Stiles asked, voice indulgent and gentle.
“Really good,” Derek said. “Thank you, Daddy.”
“Anything for my sweet boy.” When Stiles kissed him, he felt butterflies all the way to his toes, and he knew that he wasn’t just safe, he was loved.