Work Text:
Derek woke to lips at the nape of his neck, brushing open-mouthed kisses along the skin, and a warm palm spreading right over his heart. He threaded his fingers through the hand on his chest and pressed back into the body curled against him.
A smile curved into the back of his neck. "Good morning, husband," Stiles said between kisses.
Derek hummed into his pillow and smiled in return, though he knew Stiles couldn't see it. "Morning."
"Do you know what I realized this morning?" Stiles asked.
Derek burrowed his face into the pillow. "Hm?"
"We've been married nearly two months," Stiles said, "and I have yet to suck your cock." He traced his nose over Derek's neck. "I should like to remedy that situation." Stiles nipped at his earlobe. "Would you like that, husband?"
A shiver went down Derek's spine. Would he like that? To have Stiles's clever mouth on him? His heartbeat picked up at the mere thought of it, and he whimpered a little.
Stiles rubbed his thumb against Derek's chest and nosed at his ear. "Well? Would you like me to suck your cock?"
Derek felt his eyes roll back in his head. "God, yes, Stiles."
Just like that, the warm arm around him disappeared, and Derek might have felt bereft at the loss if he weren't immediately treated to the sight of Stiles scrambling down the bed and grabbing at his hips. "On your back, on your back."
Derek smiled at the eagerness in Stiles's voice, but he obliged, twisting onto his back and spreading his legs. Stiles's hair was mussed and sticking up every which way, long limbs bending as he crouched between Derek's legs, amber eyes dancing with mischief and heat.
He kissed the side of Derek's knee, his breath skating over the skin and making Derek choke back a laugh.
Stiles peeked up, lips twitching in a smile. "Mmm, ticklish?"
"A little."
Stiles ran his hands over Derek's thighs, then back down to his knees, getting tantalizingly close but never touching his cock. His fingers brushed along Derek's inner thighs, and Derek hissed. "Stiles."
Stiles's tongue darted out to lick his lips. "You're not hard yet."
Derek growled. "And whose fault is that?"
For one brief, terrifying moment, he couldn't believe the words that had come out of his mouth. This thing between them was still so new, precious and fragile and—
Before Derek could apologize, Stiles surged up and kissed him, all open mouth and teeth and tongue, pressing his hips to Derek's and rolling. Derek moaned into the kiss, threaded his fingers through Stiles's hair and held him there, whining when Stiles tried to pull away.
"You know, there are better things I could be doing with my mouth," Stiles said against his lips.
"No, there aren't," Derek whispered.
Stiles grinned and kissed him again. "I promise it'll be worth it. Or we can just do this." He rolled his hips again, and Derek swore he saw sparks. "Where do you want my mouth, husband?"
Derek groaned. "Everywhere."
Stiles buried his face into Derek's neck briefly, and then levered himself back down the bed, to his previous position between Derek's legs. He stroked a finger up Derek's thigh, barely brushed it over his balls.
Derek swore and his hips jerked up, his cock slapping against his stomach with the motion.
Stiles smirked. "I think you might be ready for me, now."
He bent over and licked gently at the base of Derek's cock, tongue barely flicking against the skin there and driving Derek absolutely mad with the tease of it. He wanted more than this, wanted to bury himself in the heat of Stiles's mouth and just take.
Instead, Derek twisted his fingers in the bedclothes to keep himself from moving. Each bare touch, each soft breath was simultaneously a torture and a relief, pushing him closer to the edge. "Stiles."
Stiles snapped his amber eyes up to Derek only briefly, and then sucked two fingers fully into his mouth. It ought not to have been attractive, but the way Stiles's cheeks hollowed out had Derek grabbing his cock to keep from coming.
Stiles pulled his fingers out of his mouth and crouched down, forcing Derek's legs farther apart. Before Derek could ask what he meant to do, Stiles traced his wet fingers around the rim of Derek's ass.
His entire body stiffened in anticipation, and it was a wonder Derek didn't come right then.
Stiles gave a nigh-feral grin and continued to trace a circle with maddening slowness. "I thought you might like this. Me being inside you at the same time you're inside me."
"God, fuck, Stiles, please, yes, just—"
Stiles hummed and pushed one finger inside him, and Derek cried out at the breach, tried to move to get more, but Stiles put a hand on his hip to keep him still.
Derek snarled, felt his fangs start to drop and had to focus to push them back. But he couldn't concentrate, not with Stiles between his legs, slowly pressing a finger—no, not just one, both of them now—into him, in such incremental measures it was like he wasn't moving at all. It burned with the stretch, but it faded quickly and then Derek was rocking his hips, fucking himself on Stiles's fingers, trying to get more because it wasn't enough, wasn't going to be enough.
And then Stiles's lips slid over the head of his cock and Derek's mind went white.
He couldn't speak, couldn't think, couldn't do anything but feel the silky-soft slide of Stiles's lips and tongue over his cock, the occasional scrape of teeth that made Derek feel as though his blood was on fire. The fingers in his ass finally started fucking him in earnest, a steady rhythm that nevertheless edged on too much. But there wasn't anywhere Derek could go, nothing he could do but lay there and writhe as Stiles took him apart with lips and tongue and those clever fingers.
"God, I love the sounds you make." Stiles swirled his tongue over the head of Derek's cock, lapping up the pre-come there. "Just for me."
"Stiles," Derek gasped out, and then it dissolved into a groan and a curse when Stiles took him back into his mouth.
He tried to hold back, to make it last longer, but he couldn't stop the sensations Stiles wrung from him. His balls tightened and Derek tried to pull away, but Stiles whined and sealed his lips around Derek's cock.
Derek cursed again and let go, spilling himself down Stiles's throat. Stiles swallowed the first burst of come and then pulled off, grinning like a fool as he let the rest splatter on his face.
Derek growled and lunged for him, hauling Stiles in for a desperate kiss. He breathed in deep the scent of himself all over Stiles's skin, growled again at the fiercely possessive heat in his gut.
He reached between them and found Stiles's cock hard and leaking, and stroked him until Stiles dug his nails into Derek's shoulders and sobbed out as he came, striping across Derek's chest.
They slumped together back to the bed, and Derek pulled Stiles in close, drawing in their mingled scents with every breath. They would have to clean off soon, but he could spare a few moments for this.
Stiles reached back and scratched a hand through Derek's hair. "I take it you enjoyed that?"
Derek nodded into the back of Stiles's neck. He didn't feel much like speaking just yet.
He swore he could hear Stiles's grin of satisfaction. "Good."
"Love you," Derek whispered, because he was still amazed he could say it.
Stiles's hand gentled, spread to rest over the back of his head, making Derek feel grounded. "And I love you, husband mine."
Derek tucked his head against Stiles's back. Husband mine. He rather liked the sound of that.