All Stiles could think about were roads. Endless, endless roads. He didn't know how long they had been driving, it didn't matter – everything looked the same. It was irritating seeing the same (or what looked like) stretch of road over and over again, everywhere they went. No matter if it was Derek driving, Scott driving, Stiles driving, it was all the same. No one could seem to work out exactly where they were or exactly where they were going. They had specific destinations in mind, but they were miles and miles from any major cities they wanted to visit, driving almost aimlessly through the barren New Mexico landscape.

"I'm so bored." Stiles mumbled, almost to himself, getting a jab in the ribs from Derek – the driver – for his trouble.

"Am I boring you?"

"Huh?"

"I was telling you about the modifications I made to my Camaro, ass." The older man shook his head, grumbling about how his story had been interesting.

"My jeeps better." Stiles replied with a shrug, his hands grazing against the roof of the van as he stretched, a long, drawn out moan coming forth. "Can't we stop and stretch our legs?"

"Yes, yes, yes!" Lydia's mouth was opening and closing excitedly from her position in the seat behind Stiles, dying to walk off her cramp.

"Yeah, Derek. Pull over." Jackson shouted, looking up from the sports magazine he was reading with Scott in the furthest row back.

"Oh, please stop!" Allison chirped in, the raised voices of the five teens driving Derek crazy.

"Fine!" He finally barked when he could take it no longer. There was an infinity of places for him to pull over, the road they were on, which went on as far as the eye could see in a perfect straight line over the horizon, was practically empty – something Stiles found quite surprising seeing as it was only noon.

"Jesus, I really need a proper bed to sleep in." Stiles said, stretching as he hopped out of the dust-coated van, the bones in his back clicking, almost moaning themselves from the two nights of sleeping upright in the uncomfortable vans seats.

"We could camp, but we won't get as far." Jackson suggested, taking off his shirt and ambling along the tiny dirt road they had pulled over on.

"I say we camp. Here." The sharp heels of Lydia's very expensive shoes dug into the grass she was stood on, hands on hips.

"Sure. We're going for a walk." Scott tried unsuccessfully to take Allison's hand, who was still a little annoyed from Los Angeles, his face falling, walking a step behind her like an obedient dog.

"I don't get her. She was happy with Scott last night." Derek said to Stiles, referring to how enthusiastic she had been at the funfair.

"Me neither." Stiles shrugged, "Let's go this way." His legs were soon working their way up the small white fence that surrounded the tall wheat fields beside them, yelping as his foot connected with a hidden rock on the other side.

"Wimp." Derek said with a grin, flinching for just a second when Stiles' fist connected with his arm.

"We better not get lost." Wheat was being pushed aside to make a path as Stiles ambled along with Derek beside him, hoping a farmer wouldn't come out and shoot him.

"Hold on," Derek dragged Stiles back by the collar of his plaid shirt, sitting him down as he began climbing up a thin metal pole. "The house is miles away." Only with his wolf eyes could Derek make out the white farmhouse in the distance, the open garage revealing no cars were there – the owners were probably out.

"Catch me if you can." Stiles grinned, feeling much better now they were out in the sun. It was an oppressively hot day, but being in the middle of nowhere made it easier to deal with, no city heat stifling them, just the clear blue skies and masses of yellow wheat. He could hear Derek behind him, laughing as he chased him along, Stiles darting left and right to try and lose him, ending up not just losing Derek, but losing himself.

"Stiles?!" As he heard Derek's voice, a pang of worry shot through Stiles' stomach at how faint and distant it was.

"Help!" He couldn't not giggle as he realised he had gotten himself lost in a field of identical yellow strands. He was the proverbial needle in a haystack. Memories of the motel began flashing back to him; a scarecrow killer would probably be on the lookout for him right now, ready to jab its hook through Stiles' guts.

The rustling seemed to be all around him, and without even realising it he started to run. It wasn't a petrified run, he actually couldn't keep the smile off his face as he hopped along, arms outstretched to push away the wheat, wondering how long it would take Derek to catch him.

"Shit!" His feet were too slow to react, too slow to pull up as he tumbled straight into a grinning Derek's arms, who had doubled back to throw Stiles off before quickly darting through the field, ready and waiting for a very loud – to Derek, with his wolf senses, anyone else would have been stumped – Stiles, who was making so much noise he was pretty sure Scott and Jackson would be able to hear too.

"Gotcha!" Stiles threw his head back, barks of laughter mingling with his panting breaths, his cheeks slightly flushed, the open plaid shirt hanging off one shoulder. "Lets get you out of this." Derek grinned, pulling the fabric off so he was in just a white t shirt, his hands roving around Stiles' waist.

"How about this too?" They were both grinning at each other as Stiles removed his shirt, throwing it onto the ground beside him. He looked up at Derek softly, lulling the man into a false sense of security before he started tickling his ribs, both of them tumbling to the ground as their fingers attacked each other, grabbing under their arms, their ribs, between their thighs, unable to keep the smiles off their faces. Wheat and grass were stuck in Derek's hair when he finally managed to spin Stiles around so the teen was no longer the one on top, spreading his denim clad legs on either side of Stiles, strong hands pinning him to the ground.

"I win." Derek laughed, taking his shirt off so he could feel Stiles' skin against his own as he pressed his chest down, lips meeting for a long, deep kiss. A yelp escaped him as Stiles flipped them round so he was on top, unbuckling Derek's belt with clumsy fingers, unable to see what he was doing through his closed eyes, mouth against Derek's once more.

He didn't care that they were in the middle of a field, that the farmer or Scott or anyone could push the wheat apart at any moment and catch them. He hadn't had sex with Derek in two days and it was driving him insane. Hey, he was a teenager after all – always horny, always wanting, always ready.

"I've been horny as hell since the funfair." Stiles' voice was just a whisper, speaking through his wet kisses, biting his lip as Derek's hands burrowed down the back of his jeans, grabbing his ass.

"Shut up." Derek panted, practically ripping Stiles' jeans apart, the silver button flying off and vanishing into the field, grunting in anger when the zipper got stuck, breaking that too as he yanked it apart instead.

"You went commando?" A burst of laughter came from Stiles as he dragged down Derek's jeans to discover no more layers to be contended with underneath.

"I said shut up." The side of Derek's mouth lifted up in a lopsided grin, grabbing onto Stiles' now bare ass firmly and turning him over, glad to be rid of the irritating strands of crushed wheat that had been scratching his back.

Before Stiles could even think about what could go wrong they had both kicked off their jeans and shoes, hastily removing their socks before they were back on top of each other and foil packet was clenched between Derek's fingers, dragged hurriedly from his jeans pocket before he shot them into the distance.

The fact that they were both bare ass naked in the middle of a New Mexico field was turning them on like they couldn't believe, feeling every inch of each others skin as their bodies writhed around on the flattened wheat. Derek had never taken himself for a naturist, but perhaps this was converting him.

Strong, steely thighs pushed Stiles' apart, Derek's hands grabbing his knees as he kissed his way down the younger boys body, growling with every wanton moan that came from above him, leaving a wet trail of kisses down Stiles' chest and stomach before he took his hard arousal into his mouth. One hand left Stiles' knee, tracing its way across the tensing thigh beneath it, finally reaching Stiles' balls, fondling each one with a strong, slow, self-assurance.

"Oh fucking hell, Derek." Stiles thighs couldn't stop, they clamped onto Derek's arms as the mans other hand, the one that wasn't driving Stiles crazy with the agonising slowness with which it was playing with his balls, started tracing circles around the tight ring of muscle, which felt like it was on fire, a non verbal begging for Derek to fill him up. Stiles did all the verbal begging that was needed, groaning as Derek licked his length, urging him to go faster and moaning with a mixture of pleasure and anger when Derek slowed down so Stiles wouldn't cum, driving Stiles so tantalisingly close to heaven before he pulled back.

If lust wasn't hazing his mind Stiles would have blushed at how slutty he felt as he pushed Derek's head down to take the full length of his dick, his eyes screwed up and teeth bared, moaning when he felt the stubble mixing with his own hair, felt his entire growth encased in a warm, wet prison, Derek's tongue doing incredible things to the head as he came back up.

Stiles had never needed to cum so much in his life, wondering if he would last as he looked down at Derek in anger as he saw him coming off his dick, locking his eyes with Stiles' for a second; green eyes full of lust. Those same eyes seemed to light up as his hands pushed the teenagers cheeks apart, Stiles lifting his neck to look down – a little curiously – taking a sharp intake of breath when he felt Derek's tongue on his hole.

"Oh my fuck – what the fu – shit." Derek had certainly never done this before, Stiles thought as he slammed his head against the ground, his hips involuntarily circling, moving his hand across to his dick.

"No." Derek slapped him away, his eyes deadly serious. Stiles was crying out Derek's name, biting his lip and trapping his hands beneath his head so he couldn't touch himself, trying desperately not to cum so he could keep the amazing feeling of Derek's tongue licking his hole, darting across the desperately sensitive circle over and over again until Stiles was a shaking mess, breath ragged, cheeks flushed, sweat coating his body like second skin.

Fingers replaced the tongue, nowhere close to how good that strong muscle felt, two fingers stretching him open, then a third, all preparing Stiles as Derek slipped the condom on and gave his own dick a few encouraging strokes – not that it needed it, the thing was as hard as steel – his body shivering with anticipation as he lined himself up. His chest got closer and closer to Stiles' as he went inside the inviting hole inch by inch, finally clashing lips with the ecstatic teen as he eased the last of himself inside, resting there for a minute to try and control himself. He felt like a horny teenager, felt like he would blow any minute, and he didn't want to. He wanted this to last.

"Please, Derek. Fuck -" Stiles felt Derek's teeth on his neck as he threw his head back, tensing every bit of muscle, bone, and cartilage, his protruding adams apple rising and falling as Stiles gulped, whimpering when Derek pulled almost all the way out of him before he slowly eased his way back in, kissing the bruised lips beneath him as he did.

"Oh, Stiles." The sound of Derek crying his name as he was thrusting into him was almost enough to send Stiles over the edge, he knew as soon as he touched his dick it would all be over, using every inch of willpower to keep his hands on Derek's muscular back instead.

"So – fucking – good." The words were intermittent, one every time Derek slammed into him, every time Derek filled him up so much that he thought he might burst, one every time Derek hit his prostate dead on and almost made him die with how good it felt.

It was agonising when Derek slowed down, desperately trying to prolong the experience, driving both of them crazy with anticipation, his orgasm looming as Stiles clenched his muscles around Derek's cock, his own wanting dick jumping every time he did.

"Go, Derek, fucking go." Stiles was dragging his body up across the mess of wheat beneath him and shoving himself back down, trying – needing – to go faster. He was about to explode with unbridled lust. Derek finally obliged, after a few more agonisingly slow rolls of his hips, speeding up until he was pounding into Stiles, spewing deep, guttural moans that mingled with Stiles' whimpers and groans, his nails digging deep into Derek's skin as he was impaled in the most beautiful way over and over again, never even thinking about who could hear as he screamed and yelled without any inhibition.

The hot, mid-morning sun had nothing to do with the wet sheen of sweat that was coating them both, their eyes locked together as they continued to ride the exquisite wave of pleasure, Derek's eyes widening to their limit, giving Stiles the signal. The crazed teenagers voice got higher and higher as he felt his orgasm coming on, never having been so glad to be able to touch himself. He and Derek came at the exact same moment, long, low moans rising and falling, eyes rolling into the back of their heads as the condom was filled and their chests were coated with a sticky, white mess.

Stiles thought he was going to black out as he kept on pumping his dick, the longest orgasm of his life finally coming to a halt, a furiously panting Derek laying his head on Stiles' chest, his cock still buried inside, too spent to move. Another moan left his lips as Derek finally gathered the energy to pull out of him, rolling onto the ground beside his lover and pulling him close, entwining their naked bodies as they laid there with heavy, panting breaths. If they had enough energy to grin, they would have been the biggest grins in history.