It’s been a little over two hours since Stiles drove past the Welcome to Beacon Hills sign on his way back home from college. Finals are over, and he’s got the whole summer off before he’ll have to return to Berkley for senior year. The end of school is so close he can taste it, and that’s pretty awesome. It’s going to be a fun summer, since the only thing he’s got planned is working part time at the station and spending the rest of his time with Derek. His first stop when he arrived in town had been to see his dad, exchanging hugs and catching up over a late lunch because Stiles knew he wouldn’t have time to see him again until tomorrow.
It had been a smart decision. As soon as he arrived at Derek’s loft, there had been kissing before he could even finish saying hello. A lot of kissing and a little making out. Okay. A lot of making out. Kissing Derek is the best thing ever, alright? Stiles would happily sit for hours doing nothing more than kissing with a little grinding and lots of touching. They had definitely reached second base before Derek had carried him upstairs. And that’s where they are now, upstairs in Derek’s bedroom.
Well, their bedroom, since Stiles basically moved in the summer after his freshman year of college. Their relationship went from casual sex to long-distance dating to something a lot more serious, and it seemed like the right time. With college, though, he’s not here enough to make it feel like home in all the best ways. He returns to Beacon Hills for summer break, holidays, and he tries to make it back at least a weekend a month, but it doesn’t really add up to much in the scheme of things. It’ll feel more like theirs after he graduates college.
“You okay?” he asks softly, not sure why Derek’s so quiet now that they’re upstairs.
“Missed you,” Derek murmurs, reaching up to stroke his fingers along the curve of Stiles’ jaw. Stiles had come home for spring break, but that’s the last time he’s made it back because the last two months of school had been hellish with papers, tests, and research projects due nearly every week. It probably is one of the longest time they’ve been separated since their friendship became romantic, now that he thinks about it.
“Me too.” Stiles smiles and leans in to kiss Derek again. It’s slow and thorough, neither one in a rush because they have three months together before Stiles has to head back to Berkley.
Derek begins stripping him as they kiss. His button up is pushed off his shoulders, his t-shirt pulled over his head, his jeans shoved down, and his underwear soon follows. Eventually, Stiles is completely naked, and Derek’s fully dressed. When he arches a brow and looks pointedly at Derek’s covered body, Derek grins, making his eyes crinkle. “What?”
“You’re overdressed,” Stiles tells him, pouting slightly. “I want to see naked skin, Der.”
“You will. Just not yet.” Derek’s smile fades into a serious look. “You’ve been gone too long. You don’t smell like me anymore. Need to fix that.”
Stiles squeaks in surprise when Derek suddenly picks him up, laughing when he’s thrown into the middle of their bed. He watches Derek take off his shirt, leaving him wearing a pair of loose sweatpants that are hanging low on his hips. Without the long shirt, it becomes obvious that Derek isn’t wearing underwear, the sweatpants not so loose that Stiles can’t make out the shape of his dick as he kneels on the bed.
“Talk to me.” Derek touches the bottom of Stiles’ left foot, his fingers brushing along the arch, tickling a little. Then his hands are caressing the top of his foot, stroking their way up his leg. Stiles licks his lips and watches intently as Derek moves to his right foot. There’s not a single bit of flesh on either foot or lower leg that isn’t stroked by Derek.
“I, uh, don’t know if I can talk when you’re doing that,” he admits, his voice low and slightly breathless as Derek’s fingers caress the sensitive spot behind his knees.
“Oh?” Derek’s smile is wicked, and Stiles narrows his eyes at him because that’s obviously what he wanted to hear. He leans down, rubbing his beard against Stiles’ upper thighs, leaving behind pink skin.
“Jerk,” he mutters, shifting slightly as Derek’s hands move underneath his legs, his thumbs rubbing at both of his inner thighs. Derek laughs low and sexy, ignoring Stiles’ insult as he rubs his face over Stiles’ lower abdomen. It continues, slow and teasing, as Derek touches every part of his lower body with his hands. Stroking his skin until he’s flushed with arousal despite the fact the touches aren’t even sexual. It’s just Derek scent marking him, very thoroughly, but it’s been two months since they’ve been intimate, and this is sensual in a way that’s making it difficult for Stiles to breathe, much less think.
The only thing Derek doesn’t touch is his dick. He drags his fingers over his balls, squeezing them lightly, caresses his ass cheeks, even strokes his hole, but he avoids Stiles’ dick completely. Then he moves further north. Hands on his hips, his abdomen, his ribs, and continuing onward. Derek rubs his beard against the more sensitive spots of Stiles’ body, marking him with pink skin, scenting every single part of him with his hands or face. By the time Derek is rubbing his chin over Stiles’ nipples, he’s achingly hard and slowly bucking up to fuck at the air as Derek continues torturing him.
“You’re smelling better,” Derek whispers against his neck. His hands are stroking Stiles’ back, his beard rubbing against Stiles’ throat. “Smell like mine,” he breathes out against Stiles’ lips. Derek’s hands are on his face, stroking his cheeks and his hair. “You’re mine,” he growls into Stiles’ mouth as he finally touches Stiles’ dick, rubbing his own erection against Stiles’ thigh.
Stiles whimpers into the kiss, always more than a little turned on when Derek gets possessive that way, mostly because it took them a while for Derek to feel like he deserved nice things, to believe he could have someone he wanted so badly, to understand he’s Stiles’ just as much as Stiles is his.
It doesn’t take long for either of them, not after all the scent marking and touching. Stiles comes first, bucking up into Derek’s hand, his dick spurting come on his abdomen and Derek’s fingers. Derek follows soon after, ropes of come spilling into Stiles’ thigh and hip. Derek moves his wet hand to Stiles’ thigh, mixing their come, spreading it over both their skin as they kiss, marking them both.