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*** Stiles ***
Pack movie night, its tradition, it's mandatory, everyone who can go has to go. This is the mantra Stiles repeats to himself over and over again as he continues to drive through what is totally too much rain, really he should just turn around, he can call Derek and tell him that the weather is just too bad, it wouldn't be safe for him to keep driving in these conditions. Lord knows his jeep is a safety hazard on a good day, in this kind of rain? His driving and the car are really just a danger to himself and others. He should turn around, but that's the turn off to Derek's street, crap, he's too close.
*** Derek ***
He should have called off the meeting when he saw the weather report, when he smelled the air thick with water, he could tell that it was going to rain, but what's a little rain in California? How bad could it be? Derek should know by now that life hates him, of course the weather would be bad, of course Erica has to babysit for her neighbor, of course Boyd has to watch his sisters, of course tonight is the night Isaac's foster family decided to try and bond with him, of fucking course Chris has to leave town suddenly and meaning that Scott and Allison can't control their hormones enough for one night.
He looks at the clock, 6:42, the sun is already down, Stiles said he was on his way 15 minutes ago. It's only a 20 minute drive, he's going to be here any second. The lights flicker in brightness followed by a loud crack of thunder. "The power better not go off or so help me," Derek grumbles to himself as he puts an oversized bowl filled with popcorn on the coffee table.
Derek hates popcorn, when people are eating it, it's all he can hear and it’s not technically a werewolf thing because none of his other family members ever had a problem with it. Laura used to insist that it had something to do with him choking on a piece during Jurassic Park when he saw it for the first time with his family in theaters and their Dad had shushed him and pinched him so hard his eyes watered (and only watered, nothing else), but there wasn't anyone to bring that story up anymore, but Peter who thank god hasn't been around for a while. Derek should probably be concerned with where he is, but the less he has to deal with him the better, he honestly can't bring himself to care at the moment when a certain befreckled teenager is about to come barreling through his door wet, probably cold and fucking alone. His pack are a bunch of meddlers. There is no way that Boyd and Erica had to babysit at the same time. Isaac is always telling him how he hates his foster parents. Scott and Allison - Scott and Allison probably really are having sex, but that's not the point. The point is they know how he looks at Stiles, everyone, but Scott, keep giving him these knowing looks every time he's slightly nicer to Stiles than any of them. He hates that they know, but they don't understand, he's not even sure Stiles feels that way, he's always got this base scent of arousal mixed in with his musky/tangy scent that's usually got some sweetness too it from whatever candy he's always eating, or sometimes it’s a little savory from the junk food he eats to keep away from his dad and - fuck was that the jeep? He always loses track of his thoughts when he's thinking about Stiles’ scent, or his moles, or the rest of his skin, or how warm he - that's definitely the jeep.
*** Stiles ***
Freaking smug werewolves, freaking smug Allison, they don't know what the heck they're doing, Stiles thought to himself while he debated running versus walking through what was still fairly heavy rain to get to the door of Derek's apartment.
None of them had texted him that they weren't going to make it until he was already halfway to Derek's place, he would bet his laptop that Allison lojacked his car or something because there is no way Scott stalked him in this weather, he's always such a baby on stakeouts, can't even handle bugs, what kind of werewolf is he? What kind of best friend? He knows that Stiles has been freaking out about watching this movie for weeks, weeks! It's supposed to be the scariest film of all time, all the reviews Stiles read online agreed and he's not the main researcher for nothing. He knows how to find movie reviews okay, so when he tells the pack that this flick is going to have them all jumping at shadows like the week that ghoul was in town he means it. So of course it’s raining like Noah’s flood and there's thunder strong enough to shake his poor jeep all across the road and no one else is here.
He decides that he'd rather not rush into his all of a sudden rather personal movie viewing that is suddenly only going to be him and Derek. He would rather continue his life's dubious motto and delay, delay, delay. So he walks, through the rain, holding the stupid movie case to his chest, under his shirt. Why didn't he wear a jacket? He always wears a jacket. Why does life hate him so much?
*** Derek ***
He could hear the rain hitting that stupid jeep from his position plastered against his front door. He shouldn't be nervous, there's no reason to be nervous, it's just Stiles, it’s just Stiles. Why? Why isn't there anyone else? Oh god, this is going to be really bad. He's killed things before and watching some, "scary," movie with a teenager should not be making him nervous.
He pulled the door open probably a little too quickly when he heard Stiles shoes squelch close enough to be just about to knock. He should have prepared himself. Stiles shirt, just one, he had removed the other to wring it out in some attempt to try and dry it, but judging by the fact that it looks like he just came out of a pool it's not going to be very effective, is slicked to his skin like a glove. He can make out each of Stiles abs and the smooth swell of his pectorals dotted by the ridges of his nipples through what must be the thinnest shirt in existence. Derek is pretty sure he's been staring, crap, that's not good, someone clears their throat,
"Derek? It's cold out here, can I come inside now?"
"If you take your clothes off." Stiles started sputtering and god, blushing
"I meant in the bathroom you idiot, go put your clothes in the sink while I get you something to wear that doesn't look like it was just underwater."
Derek pried the DVD case from Stiles' hand and threw it on the couch as he walked to his bedroom, trying to forget how he wanted to suck the water out of that shirt with his mouth, how it would taste, how it - he cut off that train of thought as he heard a wet splat of Stiles' clothes landing in the tub of the bathroom. He hadn't even heard the bathroom door close, much less the front door, how long had he been daydreaming?
He grabbed some drawstring sweatpants and one of the few cotton t-shirts he owned figuring that his typical henleys would be too thin and that Stiles probably wouldn't be comfortable in one of Derek's wife-beaters.
"Here. Open the door, I got you some clothes," he said to the wall just to the left of the door, he didn't want to get a peak of Stiles mostly undressed when he cracks the door open, he wasn't going to be creepy. Stiles called him creepy enough as it is.
"Th-thanks," Stiles forced out between chattering teeth, the cold air conditioned apartment must have been taking its toll on his rain soaked skin.
"Hurry up and change, I'm gonna' go put the movie in."
*** Stiles ***
Damn, it was probably creepy to be sniffing the shirt he was supposed to be putting on, but it smelled like Derek and laundry soap. He finished toweling off pulled the shirt on, the pants were too big though, he had to tie the drawstring in a knot he hoped he'd be able to undo later and they still sat low on his hips. Thankfully the shirt was a little long and if he didn't stretch you probably couldn't see his stomach...maybe if he kept telling himself that it would be true.
He crept out of the bathroom into the mostly dark hallway. He walked over into the living room, which smelled like popcorn, to see Derek sitting on the far side of the couch, with a blanket balled up in his lap and the DVD menu up on the flatscreen. This was awkward, so awkward, he had to break the tension. Broody McSilent wolf obviously wasn't going to, just scowling in Stiles' direction like he was disgusted that Stiles was going to ruin his clothes or something.
"I can't believe everyone else cancelled, your wolves suck, this is supposed to be mandatory isn't it?"
"Yeah well it wouldn't be the first time they decided to be disobedient."
"Well you never even tried any of those tips I gave you."
"I'm not going to obedience train my wolves, Stiles, they're not animals."
"Oh come on, don't give me that face, you walked right into that with, 'disobedient,' you can't even blame me"
"The dog jokes have never been funny, I don't know how many times I'm going to have to tell you and I don't even know why I’m telling you again, now."
"That's because you’re crazy, doing the same thing over and over again expecting different results. That's insanity my furry friend, don't worry though, I won't judge, I'm known to be little crazy myself."
"Will you just sit down already? I can see you shivering from here."
*** Derek ***
Shit, the sweatpants were definitely too big and the shirt is loose around his shoulders, but it’s not long enough to compensate for how low the sweatpants are. There is a delicious strip of pale skin taut with gooseflesh and a thick happy trail that looks like it would feel amazing under Derek's tongue.
"Here, come sit by me and we can share the blanket so you'll stop deafening me with your shivering."
"Dude, you can't hear shivering, I would know okay? If wolves could hear shivering then someone would have handed me a coat when we were all looking for that stupid flower Deaton needed."
"Just sit your ass down already so we can watch the movie."
Derek really should have considered what he was doing because now Stiles was snuggling up to Derek's side like it was a campfire or something.
"Duuuuude, you're so warm, so not fair"
"Stop squirming. You're squishing my arm."
"Oh like my crushing weight is really gonna bother your arm, Derek."
Derek just scoffed, god Stiles can be so annoying, so he yanked his arm out from under Stiles' back and put it around the back of the couch. Stiles just slid further into Derek's side, like it was normal for him to be sliding all into Derek's space, under his arm, practically in his lap, Jesus.
*** Stiles ***
He was practically laying on Derek. Derek had pulled the casual reach around arm move, his arm was officially behind Stiles' head and when he moved it, it made Stiles fall back further into Derek's space. No one can blame him for snuggling up for warmth right? It's not his fault it was raining and Derek's apartment was freezing, jeez, but Derek is so warm, Stiles couldn't stop himself from moving closer to that heat. Now they're both under the same blanket, snuggling, watching a movie, while it's raining. This is quality date material. But this isn't a date.
This is supposed to be pack bonding, but there's no pack, just him and Derek, god, this is a date isn't it? His friends, scratch that, ex-friends turned a harmless movie night into a date and now he's snuggling Derek Hale. And he's letting him, and he put his arm behind Stiles' head and that counts as an advance doesn't it?
*** Derek ***
Stiles is getting warmer, his scent his is mixed with Derek's and the tension building in the movie has Stiles' heart picking up. This is bad, Stiles is warm and pressing against him with a fast heartbeat pounding into Derek's ears and his stupid body is really getting mixed signals. It doesn't seem to care at all about the amount of acrid fear staining Stiles' normally tangy/musky sweet tinged scent, the fear and the heat just make Derek's instincts feel like Stiles is something he should pounce on. Worse still his more human instincts think that pouncing should end in something that is decidedly not maiming or the rending of flesh, but oh it certainly is making his mouth water. Fuck, he really needs to rein it in.
Think about Isaac, Isaac and Peter, Isaac and Peter in the shower-boner's gone. Wow, that was something that he really didn't need to think about, but then some demon girl thing just popped out of a corner and now Stiles is clutching at Derek's shirt like he hasn't faced down scarier things in real life.
"Shi-sorry! Oh my god, I'm sorry, that thing came out of nowhere!"
"You really think this is scary?"
"What, you don't?"
"No. We've killed things a lot scarier than some girl with greasy hair."
"Dude, don't mock the horror flick, if you keep mocking the horror flick you're going to jinx us and we're going to have to actually fight some creepy ghost or something."
"Stiles, ghosts aren't real."
"Yeah and neither are werewolves or zombies, but Peter is both."
"Just watch the movie, Stiles," Derek let out in a sigh of resignation. Technically Stiles was right, but there is no way that Derek is going to allow himself to think that ghosts are something that could be real. If ghosts were real surely his family would be haunting him.
Still, not even the depression that brought up was enough to stop his clear interest in how Stiles' heartbeat was picking up again and the scent of fear was filling his nose, making him eager to move, move closer to the body that was warm and practically vibrating with tension. Derek started imagining what that rushing pulse would taste like if he licked Stiles neck. It was so close, if he craned his neck just a little bit it wouldn't take much to have his mouth pressed to that sinfully long neck. Taste the tendons moving and that heartbeat under his teeth like he had always craved. Suck a red mark into that pale, creamy skin.
It would be so easy to just pin him to the couch and take, to just push him down and hold him there, feel him writhing under himself - and then he couldn't think over the scream.
The ghost-girl-thing had jumped out at someone on the screen just as lightning and thunder shook the apartment and then everything switched off. The room was dropped into darkness and Stiles was clawing at Derek's chest as he had apparently turned all the way around so that he was chest to chest with Derek, sitting in his lap.
"DUDE! I CAN'T SEE ANYTHING!"
"STILES! SHUT UP! The power is out."
"No shit Sherlock! Holy God, that was not cool, that was so not cool, jeez what do you have in your lap the remo-oh. Oh."
"..."
"Oh my god."
"Get off me."
"Oh my god! What does horror turn you on now?!"
"No! Just get off me Stiles or I will throw you off."
"Well why are you hard? Is it - oh my god is it me?"
"Just. Get. Off."
"It's me?! No. No way, no freaking way, nah, I could not - no, come on? Really?"
"Off!" Derek yelled as he pushed Stiles off onto the couch.
"Dude, wait, hey, I wasn't making fun of you, I just, you're you and - and I'm me and like, how?"
"How what Stiles? I'm pretty sure you'd know all about how erections work."
"But-you're straight!"
"I think I would know if I was straight Stiles. I'm not going to sit here and discuss my sexuality with you."
"You think I'm attractive?"
"No, I think the greasy-haired ghost is attractive."
"That had better be sarcasm, Derek because I can't see shit. What're your eyebrows doing? Are they in their, 'I can't believe I have to even explain myself to you, Stiles,' position?"
"Are they in their wha- what the hell are you talking about?"
"Your eyebrows dude, they are like the only part of your face that that gives away your sarcasm when you do your deadpan thing. No one can straight-face deadpan like you, but your eyebrows scream bitch face when you do it."
"..."
"See, right now I bet if I could see your face, it would be an extreme bitch face. More importantly, let’s get back on the boner for Stiles track, huh?"
*** Stiles ***
"Stiles I think you should leave."
"Oh, come on, wait, where's your face," Stiles said as he scrambled back into Derek's lap in the pitch black. Derek grabbed his hand before he could blind the poor guy thankfully, and he used his other hand to find that-oh yup, that's stubble-perfect face he's been thinking about for months now.
"There, okay, wait, you can see me right?"
"Yes, I can see you."
"Ugh, werewolf powers suck, I don't get to see anything, give me my other hand back" Stiles jerked his other arm out of Derek's grip, keeping one hand cupping Derek's face and bringing the newly released one to frame the other side of one particular werewolf's big head.
"I don't care if you're a sarcastic jerk who needs years more experience before I could call you a real leader, I don't mind your creepy tendencies, I even find you attractive when your eyebrows vanish so just-" Stiles cut himself off by pressing his lips to what he hoped was the center of Derek's mouth and thank god was not his nose or something.
Derek didn't move his lips at first, just seemed to be sitting there, it was like kissing a warm soft and fleshy wall for all the lip action Stiles was getting back out of Derek until finally after what was probably an awkward amount of one-sided kissing he started kissing back.
Derek was probably more experienced at kissing because it really seemed like he knew what he was doing, he turned Stiles head with one hand on the back of Stiles' neck so that their mouths lined up more properly and used his other hand to slide up and down Stiles' side like feeling his ribs was something people would enjoy. Then Derek's mouth was moving Stiles' open and the first foreign tongue ever to enter Stiles' mouth slid in like it belonged there. Stiles' heartbeat was pounding in his ears and his face felt hot with how hard he was blushing, he was probably tomato red and he should probably breathe soon.
Luckily Derek seemed to notice because he pulled back and hey, he was kind of gasping too. Stiles was able to think well enough not to mention that that was intense for his first kiss ever because that would probably be a mood killer. God, it felt like all the blood left his brain and was trying to turn all of his upper body red and the rest was rushing south fast because he was harder than he'd ever been. Derek must have been enjoying himself too because their lips were quickly reacquainted and there was certainly something pressing up against Stiles that he was really sure was not the remote control.
This time Stiles felt more prepared because his tongue was finding Derek's and it was the best taste he'd ever tasted, he would probably never stop kissing, nope, this was all he was going to do now, kiss, constantly, forget breathing.
"Stiles breathe!" Derek panted out, into Stiles' face.
"I can't see your face and I really wanna see your face, when is the power gonna come back on?" Stiles whined.
"I-I don't know...Stiles, maybe we shouldn’t-"
"Hey, hey, stop, you're going to overthink this, I can feel you overthinking. We should just-we can, can we just keep kissing please?"
Stiles didn't even have to wait for long because he felt those amazing lips back on his again and that stubble was roughing his chin up in all the best ways and suddenly he realized he was grinding into Derek’s hips when the kiss got really intense. He moved his mouth over to lick and mouth at that jawline that he'd been ogling forever and the stubble felt just as great in his mouth as it did rubbing against his chin. Derek really seemed to like this because Stiles could feel him cant his head back further, opening his neck up for access. Stiles was more than willing to oblige and moved his ministrations south along Derek's neck, kissing under his jaw, finding his adam's apple by feel alone, licking and tasting his way down. His grinding was getting a little frantic and each time he sucked on Derek's neck it felt like Derek was trying to buck him off the couch completely. Werewolf strength didn't translate into involuntary humping well he guessed.
"Stiles-Stiles I'm gonna-you have to-"
"Shh, shh, just let me-oh, just-"
Neither of them finished talking because Stiles could feel how frantic Derek's motions were getting and he just went with his gut and bit down hard on tendons right at the base of Derek's neck and shoulder, sucking a mark into Derek's trapezius as Stiles finally found the last bit of friction that he needed and jittered and twitched his way through his first orgasm that physically involved another person. Luckily he wasn't alone in the shame of coming in his pants because he heard Derek take a shaky breath where he must have smelled what just happened in Stiles' pants and then his whole body was jerking underneath Stiles and that was definitely an orgasm on Derek's end too.
"Did you just-in your-"
"Y-yes Stiles, god, you-you bit me!"
"It felt right! Sorry!"
"It’s-it’s fine, I-you can tell I liked it..."
"Yeah, I figured when it made you cream your pants like a teenager."
"I am just going to remind you that those are my pants you just soiled."
"Crap, uhm, okay, I'm sorry?"
"I'm going to-" The power came back on with a whoosh of the air conditioning kicking back in. The TV showed the menu screen for the movie and thankfully not the horrific scene that started this whole mess.
"I can see! Dude! You're wrecked!" Derek started blushing furiously, only adding to his sex blown look of mussed up hair (when did my hands get in there?), red shiny lips and big pupils, slowly contracting in the recently returned light from the kitchen.
"You should see yourself. You look like your mouth lost a fight with a vacuum."
"Well that would be your handiwork, proud of yourself? I know I am."
"I feel dirty."
"What? No, that was totally innoc-"
"Stiles, I need to shower, I feel literally dirty."
"Oh...well, we should just move this show over to that shower and you can lend me some new clothes, hmm?"
"I don't know, you already messed up the ones I lent you, I don't think I trust you with my clothes."
"Oh well then what am I supposed to wear?"
"Mmm, nothing, yeah, nothing." Derek said into Stiles’ neck as he started sucking what was probably going to be a huge hickey in the morning.
"Oh-ooh, well then, yeah okay, nothing, I'm down with nothing." Stiles panted out.
"I'll put your clothes in the washing machine in the morning, shower, now."
Stiles did a fist pump as soon as Derek had his back to him, he had the best friends ever, clearly.