Stiles reveled in Derek's eyes as he was continuously pelted with passionate kisses, fueling the fire that was them.

"Take them off." Stiles grunted through clenched teeth. Derek was more than happy to abide and, whilst groping the apex of Stiles' thighs, he rolled the jeans off of his lanky legs. Stiles was now in his briefs, and nothing more. Derek was now extremely turned on and felt himself growing in masculinity and power. Let alone, the thing inside his pants was also growing at a rapid pace.

"Oh, Derek." Stiles groaned, Derek pushing Stiles harder against the wall.

"I can smell you." Derek whispers, peppering kisses all over Stiles' neck.

"I can smell how ready you are for me."

For a second, Stiles feels embarrassed. But he is too caught up in the moment. Too caught up to care that he is ready.

"Are you ready for me?" Derek questions cautiously, as if he needed to get permission from Stiles.

As if.

As if he need permission right now, with Stiles against the wall.

Stiles was almost not touching the ground now, Derek had pushed him so far up the wall with his pelvis. The sheer force of Derek's embrace was a welcomed pain, with the bonus the two's erections brush over each other. With every small thrust Derek inflicted onto Stiles' dick, Stiles arched off the wall to meet it. In a slow and rhythmic pace. Magical.

"What do you think?" Stiles moaned as he felt Derek's tongue lick over his pecs.

Derek chuckled, hearing the missed Stiles Sarcasm he hadn't heard in a while.

He lifted Stiles and felt two legs wrap firmly around his stomach as he led Stiles over to the bed.

Stiles never felt so needed. He could feel the frightening amount of need that Derek had for Stiles, in this infinite moment. He didn't want this moment to be over. He never wanted it to end. He never felt so worthy.

"You smell good." Derek huffed as he threw Stiles onto the bed, himself toppling on top.

"Fuck." Stiles said as he felt himself grow. Derek started kissing Stiles' navel, and at a slow and intolerable pace, Derek trailed his tongue up until it met with Stiles' nipple. With the felt friction of Derek's tongue and Stiles' nipple, Stiles let out a loud moan. The moan was enough to set Derek off and he sweetly, yet violently, sucked on Stiles' nipple, which instantly arched. Derek groped Stiles, there.

There.

There.

He rubbed his hand crazily over Stiles' cock, feeling the small amount of pre come elude from his briefs.

"I'm glad I'm your first, baby."

How does he know? Stiles flushed a bright red.

"Don't tense now," Derek says, "It's just, I can tell."

Stiles pretends like he doesn't hear Derek say this. But he instantly forgets as he feels Derek's hand slide into his briefs.

"Oh...fuck." Stiles groans. Derek continues his torturous tongue licking.

"You are so ready." Stiles feels Derek grin against his nipple.

In a smooth and easy motion, Derek rolled Stiles over and began undoing his pants.

Springing free was Derek's erected cock. He slid Stiles' briefs over his ass.

"That's a nice little ass you got there, Stilinski." Derek chuckled.

With that, Stiles felt the tip of Derek's penis brush ever-so-lightly over his cheeks. Derek eased his way inside of Stiles, hearing, at first, small and insignificant moans, but as the pace of Derek's thrusting started hastening, Stiles' yells became louder.

Screaming with thrill.

Happiness.

Need.

Love?


This is exactly how Stiles pictured waking up. In someone's arms. Spooning. Feeling so tired it felt good. No sleep could cure such exhaustion, but Stiles did not want this exhaustion to be over. It made him feel used in such a beautiful way.

The absolute strength of Derek's arms around Stiles was warm. It was protective. As if Derek was saying 'you're mine, no one else can have you' and Stiles never felt so...so alive.

Derek's eyelids fluttered open, and he kissed Stiles' shoulders. Stiles gracefully turned around so they were now facing each other, their gaze connected, and ever so electrifying. Derek's arms did not release Stiles. Stiles was his.

"You know," Derek began in soft tone, "You have the most beautiful eyes."

Stiles only smiled, his eyes sleepy.

"You are so beautiful."

"Oh shut up, you." Stiles smiled.

"I want you to be mine. Forever."

Stiles was to tired to hear the intended hint in Derek's voice.

Derek lent in and kissed Stiles so sweetly. Stiles then realised how soft Derek's lips were. As soft as kissing a peach and feeling the hairs of the fruit brush on your lips.

This kiss was like none other that Derek had experienced before, either. Sure, he has had his fair share of ladies in his past. But none other amounted to the charm and beauty of Stiles' kiss. Losing himself in Stiles' lips was like getting lost in a forest; as much as he wanted to get out of it, he couldn't. The fascination of the forest kept him dwelling. He couldn't leave; nor did he want to. Why would he ever want to leave?

The forest was a place of rest.

Stiles' lips were a place of rest.

"You deserve every tiny bit of happiness, Stiles Stilinski. You needn't think so lowly of yourself," Derek began, running the face of his thumb on Stiles' lower lip, "You can be happy with me forever. I will treat you right. I will always stand by you. I will protect you. I promise you this."

Stiles said nothing, but Derek found himself feeling a light quiver of Stiles' lip under his thumb.

And with one final kiss, they both lay in each others arms until the mid afternoon sunlight grazed their skin.