skybluejeep | IC Contact Post For Tushanshu & Nematon

The night?

[Stiles' voice jumps an octave in surprise, and need, and want. And before he realizes he's doing it, he's nodding quickly and grinning.]

Hell yes! Sleepover time. In my bed. Oh wow. Yes. Hell to the yes, a million times yes and are you tired now? Cuz we can move this upstairs now.

[ He actually gets a smile out of Derek for that, a quirk of his mouth that meets his eyes. ] Not tired, but... we could watch those movies?

Don't. Move.

[Stiles is up a breath later, darting to his network terminal, robe flapping out behind him like a flag in a high wind. He's fumbling with the iPod, and the connection cables, and then...

Well. That's the opening shot of Lion King right there. NAAAAAAAnts ingonyama bagithi Baba...

And then Stiles all but leaps back onto the couch, instantly snuggling up against Derek.]

[ Derek gives him a look, because the Lion King? Really? He hesitates for a moment, and then puts his arm around Stiles, leaning back into him, eyes trained on the television. ] What other ones do you have on there?

Most of 'em. All the major ones.

But you said this was your favorite so I put it on.

[He snuggles into Derek's side, pulling his knees up to his chest, and slips one arm around Derek's waist, pressed in between him and the sofa.]

[ He huffs out an amused breath of air. ] Yeah, it is. Thanks.

You're welcome.

[He rests his head on Derek's shoulder, and takes a chance: he hooks one finger into the collar of Derek's henley, pulls it gently aside, and kisses his neck before letting go.]

[ Derek flushes faintly, the skin where Stiles' lips pressed burning hot. It sent little shock waves down his nerves, all the way to his fingers, and he pressed closer to Stiles, grip tightening just a tad. ]

[Stiles smirks, making the mental memo with with words O RLY in bright neon.

A beat.

And then as Simba is being introduced to the world, Stiles leans back up and kisses the same spot again. Slower. With his mouth slack against Derek's skin, warm and wet.]

[ Derek lets out a low noise, turning just enough so he can bury his nose in Stiles' hair, grabbing at Stiles and pulling him closer. ]

You really shouldn't.. [ he murmurs, his entire body hot. ] Do that.

No?

...Do you want me to stop?

[It's a serious question, but his lips are still barely touching Derek's skin, and his breath is hot against his throat.]

[ He shivers, a little involuntarily, eyes closed. ] No. This... this is fine.

Okay. Tell me if you want me to stop.

[And his lips latch back on. He's not trying to leave a bruise, he's just trying to make Derek shiver more. So the very tip of his tongue should help along with that, right?

For somebody without experience, Stiles seems to be taking to it pretty quick.]

[ Derek lets out a little whimper, digging his fingers into Stiles' hip. He drags the younger boy into his lap, pulling him away from his neck, and looks at him for a long moment with wide, pupil blown eyes, before leaning in to kiss him hard and messy, fingers pressed at the small of Stiles' back. ]

[Stiles' heartbeat spikes again, and he moans into that kiss. Derek manhandling him and being rough with him? Might already be a thing. Yeah. Oh what tangled webs we weave when we're hormonal teenage boys.

His arms immediately loop Derek's shoulders, and he adjusts himself so he's straddling Derek's lap during the kiss. And for being such a spazz, he sure is managing this well.]

[ Derek comes up for air, kisses him again quicker this time, and pulls back again, chest heaving, and... he's smiling, just a little. ] S'good.

[He gasps for air too, but not just because he's breathless from kissing. No. He's gasping at that smile on Derek's face. He reaches up with the tips of his fingers and gently touches it...before diving right back in to another kiss, his turn to make it rough and filthy.

Apparently Derek's smiles do things to him.]

[ He grunts a little in surprise, and pulls Stiles' torso flush against his own. He's radiating heat, moreso than usual and he tucks a pair of fingers up under Stiles' shirt, rubbing soft circles onto his skin. Derek pulls back and presses his nose to Stiles' neck, closing his eyes and just breathing. It's good. It feels good. And he's terrified that he's just going to fuck it all up (he's sure Stiles can feel his heart thudding in his chest), and that's why he has to take it slow. Give Stiles time to get out, should he choose to do so. ]

[Stiles is letting his body do all the work. Brain? Unhooked for now, thank god. He's not over-thinking this. He's just enjoying it. There's no out needed here.

Since Derek's touching his skin, Stiles needs - medically needs - to return the favor. His fingers slip down the back of Derek's collar, splaying out against his wolf's hot flesh. More, please! Movie is now forgotten.]

[ Which is probably for the best; Derek can't handle Mufasa's death scene anymore, and Scar reminds him of someone but he can't really place who.

He hums out a content sigh at Stiles' touch, nuzzling at the side of his neck. ]

[He lets out a happy, contented noise of his own, before slipping his hand further down Derek's back.]

God. Your body should be illegal. I think it is in at least seven states.

[ Derek pulls back and looks at him. ] It's not that special, Stiles.

...Oh, god, you really think that.

[It's not a question, but a gobsmacked statement of fact. Derek really thought his body was nothing special. Jesus.]

Okay. Fine. Well, you drive me absolutely crazy, and your body is a part of that, and I want to get your shirt off and lick chocolate off your abs.

[ Why wouldn't he think that? He's not ashamed of his body, and he knows he keeps it in peak shape, knows that his werewolfliness contributes to that, knows people like looking at it. But it's no different than anyone else who works out a lot, Derek feels. He's seen men in movies with similar body types. It just simply isn't that big of a deal.

He's used to hearing that kind of thing, but it still makes him give Stiles a wry grin. ] You want to lick chocolate off my abs.

Yup.

[He pops the "P" at the end, and dives in for another kiss.]

...Or maybe honey. Whipped cream. Something sticky I have to spend a lot of time working off your body.

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