"Don't tell me what to do," Stiles muttered stubbornly, the crease between his eyebrows becoming more prominent as he tried to control his erection. Of course he was going to do whatever Derek asked. It was practically engrained in his DNA. It was amazing the amount of control Derek had over him, and he wasn't even part of his pack. All he had to do was touch him there and there and Stiles was turning into putty to be shaped by his very capable hands.
But the other day, Stiles learned that Derek responded very enthusiastically whenever Stiles didn't cater to his every wish, and he'd never been much for following orders anyway.
"I never should have told you that," the alpha responded, his nose running along the very sensitive skin at the base of Stiles neck, causing the younger boy to buck his hips in an involuntary response. "You've taken advantage of it," he growled, his grip tightening on Stiles' hips, to hold him steady as his tongue darted out for a taste.
"It's not everyday I have this sort of control over you, you know. Every man for himself, right?"
"Wrong." In an instant, Stiles was on his stomach. He should've known that Derek would use his force if Stiles didn't cooperate. Unbeknownst to Derek, Stiles liked when he turned rough, inhumane. He squirmed, waiting, anticipating, but nothing came. He propped himself up on his elbows and turned his head to look at his…Derek. There were no labels. They barely discussed what they did, much less try to make any sense out of it. It just felt so good and it was Derek Hale and Stiles had learned to stop asking questions.
Was that a hint of regret he saw flicker across his expression before his eyes snapped to Stiles' and disappeared? His easygoing comment seemed to hit Derek harder than it should have and Stiles grappled for something to say, something to turn the events back towards where they were most certainly leading a few moments before.
Stiles did what Stiles did best.
"Is my ass really all that great or were you planning on doing something…?"
Derek shifted on his bed and lay next to him on his side, hand landing on the small of Stiles' back, stroking small circles with his thumb. It was comforting and tantalizing at the same time, especially when Stiles wanted his hand elsewhere, doing different motions. He looked way too serious for a guy that previously had his tongue down Stiles throat.
Here he got a scowl. It was a familiar one, one that clearly said that Derek thought Stiles needed to shut up for two seconds. Stiles got that look a lot.
"You're not…you know that you're…" The werewolf stammered, his eyebrows furrowing together in deep concentration. He never stammered unless he was around Stiles, and he basked in the private memory of learning that he could steal the words straight from Derek's head with barely any effort. Words were never his forte around him. It was amazing that the two could even stand each other's company for more than five minutes. "It's not every man for himself. I care about you. And I protect the people that I care about." His tone held finality as if this was all that was going to be said on the subject. Stiles eyes widened imperceptibly and his heart sped. He was sure Derek heard the change in speed and he hated that he had super werewolf hearing and could read him like a book. It was quite unfair, really. Just as he expected, Derek leaned forward quickly in an attempt to stop him from responding. Derek's arm tightened around his torso and despite his own desire to continue, this was something that definitely needed to be discussed further. Stiles lifted his hand and pressed it against Derek's lips, shoving him back.
"That's what has you all tied in a knot?" An incredulous chuckle escaped his lips.
Derek gave him a glare and Stiles could feel the disapproval radiating off of him. Maybe he wasn't the only transparent one in the room. "Don't."
"I just don't get it. I'm not part of your pack. I'm a human, just an insignificant human who you like to bully into doing dirty things to you and who just happens to be enough of a masochist to enjoy it, and you want me to believe that you'd stop for a second to jump in front of a mob of Gerards to save my life, then you have got to be fucking kidding yourself. Not when you could be out cleaning up whatever mess Scott has created or trying to stop Erica from tearing Allison apart because, you know, you are their alpha, not mine…unless –"
"Stiles, shut up," he said exasperatedly running a hand over his face, as if he was trying to erase the worry that Stiles unmistakably noticed.
"- you love me," he continued anyway, eyes flickering all over Derek's face, searching for the clenching of his jaw that never came, the hardening of his eyes that was invisible. When he didn't get any sort of answer, verbal or physical – except for the slackening of Derek's hold around his waist – Stiles turned onto his side, facing Derek, the gears turning rapidly in his head. "You love me." It was more of a statement.
Derek wasn't denying it.
"Oh," was all Stiles could choke out before Derek attacked him in a delicious way. They were a tangle of limbs and groans and sweat and desire and he still couldn't quite believe that this beautiful creature loved him. Stiles. The human. He could feel it now, all the way down to his toes. He felt it in the way that Derek caressed his face as he kissed him, and in the way he took the time to touch him and leave trails of hot kisses across his skin. He could feel it in the way he seemed to be holding back just a bit so he wouldn't hurt Stiles or make him uncomfortable.
He didn't much remember the events after that. He knew that his shirt was ruined after Derek all but ripped it off his body. He knew that he had gotten out of his jeans in record time, and he helped Derek rid himself of his clothes with expert fingers. But the only thing he was focused on was the hot pooling of nerves in his gut and the way Derek was looking at him.
"I love you, too," he choked out when he felt the tip of Derek's member at his entrance, right before his entire world crashed around him.
"Shut up, Stiles."