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Stiles has been blushing around him all week, sputtering and cheeks going red. It’s only after a pack meeting when Derek figures out what might be the reason.
Stiles is the only one still in the loft aside from Derek, the rest of the pack having vacated right after the discussion was finished. The boy scoots up on the couch cushion, talking about one thing or another as he bends down to shove some things into his backpack on the floor.
If he hadn’t been paying attention, Derek would have missed it, the way the boy’s shirt rides up the small of his back, how the band of his jeans comes just slightly away from Stiles’ body as he bends forward. But Derek is always paying attention, he’s always watching when it comes to Stiles, which is why he sees the delicate hint of pink lace clinging to his skin in the barely visible space where the small of his back and his hips meet.
He almost let’s it go. He almost let’s Stiles get away as the boy straightens up and heads for the door, but he knows better than that.
Just as Stiles gets a hand on the doorknob, Derek is on him - not close enough to be touching, but close enough for the boy to feel his body heat. All it takes is a hand around the back of his neck and Stiles is stilling, his backpack absently sliding off of his arm and falling to the floor.
“Stiles.” Derek says, stern but patient, his firm grip on the younger boy’s neck unwavering even as Stiles shifts his head slightly to the side, not actually looking at him, but showing that he’s listening.
“Yes Sourwolf?” He says with false bravado, unconvincing as Derek can smell the uncertainty leaking from his pores.
“Sweetheart,” Derek sighs out in a condescending manner, “did you really think I wouldn’t notice?”
“What -” Stiles cuts off abruptly, his breath hitching in his throat as the older man smooths a single finger under his shirt, teasing the bare sliver of skin just above his waistband.
“I don’t know what your talking about.” The boy says with much less conviction than he intends, his voice having gone rough with a hint of panic.
“I think you do.” Derek replies, teasingly dipping the fingertips of his free hand below the boy’s waistband, just low enough to brush against the texture of the lace covering the top of Stiles’ ass.
A heady mixture of arousal and embarrassment fills the air, tinged with shame and anxiety. Stiles slides his arm up the cool wood of the door just so he can bury his face into the crook of his elbow.
The boy groans, “Fuck off, it’s none of your business.”
Derek smirks, rubbing his thumb in soothing circles where it rests on the boy’s neck, and finally closes that final gap between them, plastering his body against Stiles’.
“Baby,” he starts, voice rough as he moves to whisper in Stiles’ ear, breath hot and wet against his skin, “I think it’s exactly my business.”
Stiles makes a choked off sound, his arousal becoming even more apparent. “Stop making fun of me.” He whines, misery in his voice.
“Does it feel like I’m making fun of you?” He says, grinding his jean clad erection into Stiles’ ass.
The boy’s automatic response to the pressure is the push into it, his body going stiff with the realization of what he’s done.
Derek smirks at the sputtering that follows as Stiles tries to explain his actions. He replaces the hand on the boy’s neck with his face as he snakes an arm around his middle.
“Come on, sweetheart. Let me take care of you.” Derek says wetly into his neck, his hand smoothing over Stiles’ stomach.
Stiles’ body goes hesitantly lax, like he’s ready to curl back up at any moment. He unburies his face to look at Derek from under his lashes and nods to Derek almost imperceptibly.
Seeing the boy’s sign of approval, Derek moves to kiss him sweetly on the temple. He draws a hand up to pinch at Stiles’ pert nipples through the thin fabric of his shirt, lips curling into a pleased smile at the boy’s open mouthed gasp.
“Da- Derek, please,” Stiles begs.
Derek pulls back, taking his hands off of his boy and leveling him with a disapproving stare. “Baby. We both know that’s not what you want to call me.”
Stiles blushes even more, hiding his red face into the crook of his elbow once again as he stares at the wall, avoiding eye contact with Derek. He mutters something in a choked off voice, too muffled for Derek to hear, though it makes him grin wolfishly nonetheless.
“What’s that? You’re gonna have to speak up.”
Stiles whines, the sound bubbling up from the back of his throat as the scent of arousal and embarrassment floods the room in a heady concoction. He sobs out a sweet little sound. “D-daddy.”
Derek smirks, mouthing at Stiles' jawline. “There you go, baby. Such a good boy for me. Can you show me, honey? Let daddy see what you’re wearing?”
Stiles nods shyly like he’s wound tight, staring at Derek with his pupils blown wide. Derek steps back just enough to get space in between them, still keeping his large hands placed on the sides of Stiles’ rib cage.
His boy hiccups a bit as he turns to face the wall, overwhelmed by the scrutiny, but he still manages to fumble with the button of his jeans before he gets the zipper down. He moves to hook his thumbs into his waistband, but pauses a second too long, the scent of shame becoming sharper in the air.
Derek shushes him, rubbing his sides soothingly. “All the way, babydoll, you can do it.”
His boy sighs breathily, slowly lowering his jeans down the plush swell of his ass, revealing the sheer lacy pink panties he’s been wearing.
Derek barely suppressed a growl, wanting to immediately reach out and grab a handful of his baby’s round bottom. Stiles starts fidgeting after a moment, impatient with the lack of action.
“Daddy please, I want - I want -” Stiles cuts himself off with a frustrated noise.
“What is it sweetheart? Use your words.”
Stiles finally looks up from where his head has been buried, making eye contact with Derek. Now that he can see him, Derek notices how wet his eyes are, brimming with unshed tears, his mouth red and wet from being bitten.
“P-please touch me, daddy,” Stiles says in a broken voice, the red splotches on his cheeks becoming more prominent as he pushes his ass out to display himself.
At those words, Derek strides forward the step it takes to bridge the gap between him and his boy. He trails his nose up Stiles’ neck, taking in the heady scent of him and reveling in the sweet shudder Stiles' body involuntarily lets out.
He wastes no time in maneuvering Stiles to get the rest of his clothes off until he’s clad in nothing but his pretty panties, while Derek himself is still fully clothed.
He grabs Stiles by an arm around his belly and pulls him against him to that Stiles can feel the rough fabric of his clothes against his smooth skin. Idly pinching at one nipple, Derek hooks his neck over Stiles’ shoulder in order to get a view of his front.
“Look how pretty you are, sweetheart. Did you get all dressed up just for me? Hoping daddy would see how pretty his baby is?”
Stiles nods his answer “I - I got a few pairs. Wore ‘em all week under my clothes.”
“That why you were so shy around me, baby? Because you had your panties on, wearing them just for me?”
Stiles wiggles against him, moving to turn around in Derek’s arms. When he does, he ends up with his arms trapped between their chests, keeping him surrounded by the cage of Derek’s body. He looks up at the older man with his wide doe eyes, all bright and innocent.
“Can I kiss you daddy?”
Derek grins at him fondly, rubbing a hand along his back. “Of course sweetheart, anytime you want.”
With that, Stiles leans up, standing on his tippy toes to reach Derek’s mouth. The darling thing gives Derek the sweetest little closed mouth kiss, letting out a precious little moan as he does so.
Derek let’s a hand travel up to cradle the back of the boy’s head, holding him close as Stiles gets bolder and starts to give little kitten licks against his lips. He can’t help but smile at Stiles’ eager inexperience, how it seems that the boy is trying to press his whole body close enough to meld with Derek’s.
Stiles keens as Derek parts his lips to let him explore the inside of his mouth. After a short while of letting Stiles get comfortable, Derek takes control of the kiss, making sure that Stiles’ lips will end up swollen and red by the time they’re done.
The boy is practically vibrating out of his skin, and Derek pretends he doesn’t notice the little aborted thrusts of Stiles involuntarily grinding his cock against him. Derek trails a broad hand down the soft skin of Stiles’ back until he’s cupping the flesh of Stiles ass. Taking the small whine the boy lets out as agreement, he pushes down on his baby’s ass, effectively helping him grind his little cock harder into Derek’s rigid body.
Stiles breaks the kiss with a gasp, looking at Derek with a look that’s a mix between surprised and blissed out.
“D-daddy? Daddy, will you, um. Will you touch me? There?”
“Where’s that sweetheart? Here?” Derek asks, moving his hand from Stiles’ ass to his front, cupping his panty clad erection. Stiles moans and starts to nod his head before shaking it again.
“No n- I want, daddy.” Stiles whines, pushing his face into Derek’s shoulder as the older man pets his hair. “Daddy, will you please play with my hole?” He says, voice soft and shy, muffled into the fabric of Derek’s shirt.
Derek smiles into his hair. “I would love to baby.” With that he slips his hand into Stiles’ panties, feeling the warm flesh beneath his fingertips. He can feel Stiles’ heart rabbitting against his chest, and Stiles turns his head as if he’s trying to see where Derek’s touching him.
He smooths his hand down the center of Stiles’ ass, his middle finger easily finding its way into the dip between his cheeks and rubbing over his little hole. Stiles gasps, both of his hands fisting tightly into Derek’s shirt.
“Oh.” Is all he says, a cute little exclamation of surprise, like he didn’t know it would feel different to have a larger, calloused finger prodding his entrance.
Derek uses the pad of his finger to massage over Stiles’ hole, feeling it relax under his ministrations until it’s soft and fluttering. He can smell each time Stiles’ cock spurts out a new drop of precum and imagines that his panties are already wet with it.
“Can you put it inside, daddy?” The boy asks earnestly.
Instead of answering, Derek removes his finger and puts it up to Stiles’ lips, the pads of his fingers pressing down softly into his plush pout.
Sighing contentedly, Stiles sucks in the two digits.
“Can you taste yourself, baby?”
Stiles softly moans in affirmation, bringing both of his own hands to cradle Derek’s, holding it in place. His tongue licks all around Derek’s flesh in his mouth, darting in between and licking at the webs of his fingers.
Derek chuckles at his enthusiasm. “That’s enough, sweetie.” He says softly as he fucks his fingers wetly in and out of Stiles’ mouth a few times before withdrawing them. A thin line of spit connects the boy’s abused lips to his fingers, and Derek feels his cock jerk at the sight.
Without wasting any time, he slips his hand into the back of his boy’s panties, getting his crack and his hole wet with his Stiles’ own spit. Once he’s rubbed the spit around and slightly into Stiles’ little asshole, he begins to prod at the opening with one finger. With a gentle pressure, he inserts the tip, feeling the tight suction of his baby’s fuckhole sucking at his fingertip.
“Baby, are you sure you can take the whole thing?” Derek asks with skepticism, the hole achingly tight around him.
“ I can do it, daddy.” Stiles huffs stubbornly. “I can - I can get three of mine in.”
“Oh, can you now?” Derek asks with a grin as he begins to fuck the tip of his finger in and out of Stiles’ body, going just a little bit deeper with every inward thrust. “You do that a lot, baby? Fuck your little fingers into your hole? I bet you just love to touch yourself there all the time. Can’t keep yourself from reaching back and just touching sometimes.”
Embarrassment flares from Stiles' scent and Derek knows he’s hit the truth. He grins as he pushes his finger in to the second knuckle, feeling the way Stiles’ hole clings to him a bit every time he tries to pull out. “Don’t be embarrassed, sweetheart. With such a cute little hole like yours, I’m not surprised. I bet you excuse yourself to the bathroom during class sometimes just so you can go and touch yourself, just to feel it.”
“I don’t - I don’t do that. I don’t -” Stiles stutters out, eyes wide and scared.
“Don’t lie to me, baby." Derek admonishes. "You know I can hear your heartbeat when you lie. I know my baby boy better than you think.”
Stiles’ cock throbs against him and he nods into Derek’s shoulder, still embarrassed, but the scent has taken a needier tone.
The boy starts pushing back against him then, trying the get the finger deeper inside of him. It’s not long before Derek has his finger buried completely within the boy, curling it to massage his insides, becoming more bold with each soft sound Stiles makes.
“Look at you sweetheart, letting me get a whole finger inside of your sweet little boyhole. You want me to really do it now? Want to get fucked for the first time on daddy’s finger?”
“Please please please daddy, want you to fuck me, please, fuck me, fuck me.” Stiles begs, frantically trying to push back and fuck himself on the length of Derek’s finger.
“Don’t worry baby, I’ll take good care of you.”
Derek moves his free hand to the small of Stiles’ back, holding him close and keeping him still. Then he begins to move his finger in a more deliberate fashion, dragging it out slowly before shoving it back in, making Stiles’ hips jerk forward each time and causing his sensitive cock to rub into Derek’s.
Stiles’ high moans provoke Derek to be even rougher with his ministrations, quickly slamming his finger in and out of Stiles’ hole, the wet and sloppy sounds of his hand against his baby’s ass filling the room.
“Daddy, daddy I’m so close.” Stiles sobs, actively grinding his cock against Derek.
“You gonna come, sweetheart?”
The boy nods his head, “I need - daddy, I need -”
“I know baby, I’ve got you.” Derek shushes as he harshly slams his finger deep into Stiles’ hole before crooking it straight into the boy’s prostate.
“Daddy!” Stiles shouts as he comes into his panties, his cock throbbing with every spurt and his hole actively clenching down on Derek’s finger like a vice.
“Good boy.” Derek praises as Stiles comes down from his orgasm. He softly works his finger in and out of Stiles’ hole for a few moments before he takes it out and rubs against the abused flesh with his whole hand to soothe it.
Stiles is breathing wetly against his chest and Derek puts a hand into his hair, sweeping the sweaty strands off of his forehead before he kisses it sweetly.
“So good for me, baby, such a good boy.” Derek mutters into his hairline. He smiles as he hears Stiles’ rapid heartbeat slowing down and scoops the boy into his arms, holding his tired body against his own with an arm under his bottom like he’s carrying a small child.
He carries them to the couch where he sits down with Stiles cradled in his lap as he falls asleep. Derek slowly runs a hand up and down his back soothingly, feeling his baby’s come seep through the lace panties and into the fabric of his own shirt.
He hears a soft wet noise, and looks to see that Stiles has his thumb loosely in his mouth, sucking gently and making a little wet spot on his shirt. He smiles fondly at the image.
“Such a good boy.”