“I think we need to talk.” Stiles grimaces slightly because that sounds more ominous than he intends. His hair is still wet from his recent shower, water dripping down his collarbone and neck, and he shivers as the cool air conditioning makes him doubt his decision to forego a shirt for now. Of course, he knows from past sleepovers that clothing isn’t likely to remain on for very long, so he hadn’t bothered with anything except some comfy old sweatpants.
“Alright.” Jordan glances over his bare shoulder and totally catches Stiles staring at his ass. It’s not his fault that the gray sweatpants Jordan’s wearing are hanging low on his hips and fit snug across that bubble butt he’d been touching just a few hours ago. Jordan smiles slightly, a mischievous look entering his eyes as he obviously realizes the effect he’s having on Stiles. Instead of teasing him, though, he asks, “Did the shower help your back any?”
“A little. I mean, you left plenty of warm water, so thanks for that.” Stiles watches the muscles in Jordan’s back and shoulders tense and flex as he moves the pan he’s holding. “I took some Ibuprofen I found in your cabinet, so that should help, too.”
It’s not so much his back that’s sore anyway. It’s more his ass and upper thighs that are aching after the ferocity of their fucking last night. He’d been the one to urge Jordan to let go and really give it to him, and it’s nothing he can’t handle since he wouldn’t have asked for it rough if he didn’t enjoy it that way sometimes. Still, he knows Jordan’s likely to feel more than a little guilty if he notices the bruises left on Stiles’ hips and upper thighs or realizes Stiles is sitting somewhat gingerly today because of what they did last night. Stiles likes it when Jordan loses control, really likes it, so he’s feeling sated and very well-fucked this morning.
“I still think a warm bath would soothe any sore muscles better than a quick shower, but you’re too stubborn to listen, and I’ve learned to choose my battles. Tactical retreat on stalemates is a wise choice sometimes.” Jordan puts the pant on the burner before he steps away from the stove and walks towards Stiles. When he reaches him, he pulls him closer and kisses him. It’s a sweet kiss, one that makes Stiles tingle in all the best ways because he ca practically feel the love and passion in each gentle lick of Jordan’s tongue. When they pull apart, Jordan smiles. “You taste minty fresh. No excuses about not kissing me due to morning breath now.”
“Oh, yeah, I found the extra toothbrush you left out for me.” Stiles reaches up to drag his fingers through his damp hair. “Thank you for that. And you still kiss me even when I point out my mouth probably tastes like ass first thing in the morning.”
“Not a problem.” Jordan shrugs. “I thought you’d like having one here whenever you spend the night. Also, I’ve kissed you right after your mouth has been on my ass, so that’s not very logical reasoning. I’m making breakfast, so I hope you’re hungry.”
“When am I not hungry?” Stiles laughs. “But, dude, seriously, you don’t have to make me breakfast every time I sleepover. I know you’ve got a shift this afternoon and probably need to get a dozen things done between now and then.”
“I wanted to make us breakfast, Stiles.” Jordan kisses his forehead and ruffles his hair before walking back to the stove. “It’s just bacon, eggs, and pancakes. Nothing that major, just a lot of it. We both used up a lot of energy last night, after all.”
“That’s true.” Stiles walks into the kitchen and decides to make some coffee. He needs something to keep himself occupied so he doesn’t just step up behind Jordan and shove those threadbare sweatpants down and have a different type of feast entirely. “But I’d disagree that pancakes and bacon aren’t major. They’re a pain in the ass to cook, so maybe eggs and toast would make that story more believable.”
“You’re starting to sound like a lawyer, Stiles.” Jordan looks at him curiously. “Is something wrong? You’re fidgety this morning. More so than usual. What exactly did you want to talk about? Nothing bad, I hope?”
“I’m not cross-examining you, so no lawyer comparisons needed.” Stiles looks at him and smiles. “Nothing’s wrong, and it’s isn’t bad. It’s not one of those ‘we need to talk’ break-up kind of things or anything like that.”
“Break-up hadn’t really come to my mind,” Jordan admits, looking back at the pan of bacon he’s frying to turn the meat before focusing on Stiles again. “I know we’re still sort of in the early stages of our relationship, but I feel like we’re solid. We enjoy spending time together, the sex is unbelievable, and we’re working out any differences we come across that need resolved. We’re good, aren’t we?”
“Oh yeah. We’re totally solid, Jordan.” Stiles knows the ‘differences’ are mostly his somewhat pessimistic cynical nature versus Jordan’s optimistic romantic nature, but they have worked on those. He might only be twenty, but he’s mature enough to have an adult relationship and know something real takes time and energy. “I really like you. Like a lot.” Like possibly love already but neither of them is rushing into things.
“Good.” Jordan smiles slightly, winking at him before focusing back on the bacon. “I like you a lot, too. So, what were you wanting to talk about then?”
“Uh, well.” Stiles bites his lip and looks at the coffeemaker, watching the dark liquid slowly drip into the glass pot. “You bought me a toothbrush,” he finally says, rubbing the back of his neck. There’s a bite mark at the base where his throat curves into his shoulder, and he rubs it idly as he avoids looking at Jordan. “And there’s the drawer thing from last night.”
“Okay.” Jordan takes the pan off the burner before turning off the stove. In a few quick steps, he’s standing behind Stiles, resting his chin on his shoulder as he wraps his arms around him. “I’m starting to understand what this is about now. It’s okay, Stiles. You can talk to me about anything. Tell me what you’re thinking.”
“I just…it’s a drawer,” Stiles says, staring at the dripping coffee even as he leans back against Jordan’s bare chest. “We’ve only been dating for like, what?, four months, and we agreed to take things slow because our lives are a bit fucked up from supernatural nonsense, but now there’s a drawer and my own toothbrush, and you even bought me my own pillow.”
“It’s actually been nearly seven months, Stiles. Officially, that is. But you and I both know it’s been building since the summer after you graduated high school when we spent all that time together,” Jordan says, rubbing circles and infinity signs on Stiles’ abdomen, fingertips gliding over his skin and around his belly button. “We are taking things slow, but we can slow down more if you need to. You’ve just left a lot of stuff over here whenever you’ve stayed, so I thought it might be time to give you your own drawer.”
“Seven months?” Stiles knows he’s been busy with college because the last two semesters have kicked his ass. That’s what he gets for taking the maximum allowed and doing work-study at the biggest library on campus, but it doesn’t seem possible that he and Jordan have been dating that long. Now that he’s thinking about it, though, he realizes it’s true. It’s June now, after all, and Jordan had asked him out during Thanksgiving dinner at Scott’s house when the pack had been busy watching some parade.
“You’ve worked really hard the last semester, so I’m not surprised you didn’t realize.” Jordan kisses his shoulder, fingers stopping their movement for a moment. “Do I need to step back? I told you when we decided to transition from casual dating to something more serious that I’m willing to wait. Just because I’m already at the point of knowing this is what I truly want doesn’t mean you are, and I respect that, Stiles.”
“You’re way too nice for me,” Stiles says honestly. “And, no, don’t step back. I just got a little overwhelmed at the idea we were reaching that serious stage where drawers and pillows and toothbrushes are common.”
“That’s not what you were saying last night,” Jordan reminds him, fingers moving again as they trace patterns on Stiles’ skin. “Overwhelmed isn’t a bad thing, by the way. I’m glad you decided to talk to me about it instead of retreating inside your head and overthinking everything.”
“We agreed to talk anytime something happened that made us nervous or anxious. I’ve been trying to do that.” Stiles turns his head to look back at him, taking in that too pretty face and those piercing green eyes. “Also, last night you were driving me insane in all the best ways, so there was nothing at all nice about your behavior.”
“You like that,” Jordan says, lips quirking slightly. “Don’t you?”
“Like that you’re nice in the streets and wild between the sheets? Hell yes.” Stiles winks. “Or like that I’m the only one around who’s really seen that side of you? Because that’s also a yes, even if it probably makes me sound like a jerk. I’m glad no one else in this town has seen you lose control or has any idea that you’re so dominant and intense behind bedroom doors.”
“It doesn’t make you sound like a jerk any more than I sound like one for being the same way about you.” Jordan smiles. “We’re both a little possessive. It’s not a bad thing since neither of us take it too far.”
“Yeah, we’d definitely be having a different kind of talk if you ever tried pissing on me to mark your territory.” Stiles leans in to press his lips against the corner of Jordan’s mouth. “So I’m glad your houndy instincts tend to veer more towards rutting and biting because those things happen to turn me on.”
“My houndy instinct,” Jordan repeats slowly before flashing a decidedly not-nice and totally wicked grin. “You know, I still owe you for those gifts you gave me on my birthday. Your father wasn’t able to look at me for days after seeing that leather collar and engraved dog tag. I’m sure he’s convinced that we’re into some kinky lifestyles choices.”
“You totally don’t owe me anything for that, Jordan. It was a gift.” Stiles can’t help laughing as he remembers Jordan’s reaction to the gifts. There had been serious gifts, too, but c’mon. He’s dating a hot hellhound. Like he’s going to resist shopping at Petsmart for a few things? Jordan’s lucky he just went for a dog tag, collar, and squeak toy. For Christmas, he’s already thinking about trying to locate an inflatable fire hydrant or maybe a nice leash.
“Oh no. I definitely owe you for those, Stiles.” Jordan leans in to kiss him, a firm kiss with just enough tongue to get Stiles’ mind off serious relationship steps and focusing more on the amazingly hot sex part. When he pulls back, Jordan looks at him seriously. “Are we good now?”
“Yeah, we’re great. No panic attack about having a drawer here now. Just…in the future…maybe bring up serious relationship things versus just casually mentioning them?” Stiles ghosts his mouth over Jordan’s before nibbling at his bottom lip. “And, uh, I’m really sore after last night, so maybe you can owe me until my ass isn’t so wrecked?”
“Okay. I can make it less casual in the future. I guess I should start now since I also had a copy of my key made for you. I was planning to give it to you before you leave later,” Jordan says, turning Stiles around to face him before pressing him against the cabinet. “That way, you can come over whenever you want even if I’m at work.”
“You’re giving me a key to your apartment? Wow. That’s…damn, that’s pretty awesome, actually.” He knows that a key is a huge step, more so than getting his own drawer, but he isn’t that worried about it now that they’ve talked. Jordan is serious about him, and Stiles definitely feels the same way, even if he’s a little scared about possibly finding the person he wants a future with before he’d turned twenty. Neither of them have said ‘love’ yet, not verbally, but it’s already there every time they touch, snuggle, kiss, or, really, do anything. He knows that’s probably the next major shift in their relationship, but he’s actually ready for that one because he thinks it’ll be like everything else between them and just happen naturally.
“Glad you think it’s awesome.” Jordan moves his hands along Stiles’ hips, slowly pushing the worn elastic down until his sweatpants are sliding down to his thighs. “As for your warning, I actually wasn’t thinking about your ass, for once. I was thinking about that gorgeous cock of yours.”
“You were, huh?” Stiles watches as Jordan drops to his knees on the kitchen floor, giving him a look that indicates they’ll probably be having brunch instead of breakfast. He licks his lips and says, “Well, uh, in that case, carry on.”