laography | when the moon found the sun / when the sun found the moon

[ Though Stiles works to keep his hips still, Derek still lifts his head a little to make sure that he doesn't get choked and-- it's a strange sensation, and fairly sudden, but he's not as bothered by swallowing as Stiles may have been. He stays as Stiles rides through it, before slowly drawing his mouth away and blatantly licking his lips instead of rubbing his hand across his mouth. When his hair is released, he brings his head up completely, carefully easing Stiles down so that he doesn't just drop onto his back suddenly.

He looks blissed out enough to miss any pain from his back, though, so there's that. Resting on his belly with one leg still over his shoulder, he rests his cheek against the opposite thigh and lets out a very pleased and also amused sound up at him. (But there is absolutely no hiding that unmasked affection.) ]

Holy merciful seven above. [ Are the first words to come out of his mouth, where he's still staring at the ceiling of the tent like an absolute idiot, and Stiles lets his left leg fall so the right one is still suspended over Derek's, thrown kind of haphazardly over his shoulder, and slowly tries to recombobulate his brain, looking down at Derek from where he's situated and throwing him a wide, goofy smile.

That was awesome. ] I think I blacked out for a second there. [ It was really awesome. ]

[ A slow grin cracks across his face, something like a sated cat even as he can feel his second wind settling in on him. But for the meantime, Derek is perfectly content to watch Stiles slowly come back to his senses. His fingers trace along his outer thigh, drumming and leaving an idle pattern along it that he doesn't realize corresponds with his path of moles on that leg. Part of him doesn't want to move, but he knows he'll have to shortly.

A snort escapes him, a laugh following quickly after. ] You looked a little like you did.

[ Stiles nods for a second, because that is definitely what that felt like, and he stares up at the tent ceiling a little more, feeling the feeling slowly come back into his limbs. He could probably sleep for days.

...which reminds him suddenly, and he sits up halfway, looking at Derek with an indescribable expression on his face. ] We're still gonna have like--legit, sex after that? You know, tab B into slot A kinda thing?

[ IT'S A SERIOUS QUESTION K ]

[ Observing Stiles while he regains his senses and finer motor functions, Derek shifts his shoulder when he moves to sit up, slipping it out from underneath his leg so he can actually sit up. It lets him just lay there calmly, sprawled out across the furs and looking up at him with the red gone from his eyes for the time being.

And then a bark of a laugh leaves him at his wording, and he turns his face to tuck it against his thigh while his shoulders twitch a little with restrained laughter. ]

Stiles, we have an entire night ahead of us. [ Tipping his head, he looks at him from under his brow again. ] Pretty sure that's in the cards.

Oh. [ A beat of silence. ] Awesome.

[ Good, because he did way too much "research" on that one to just let it go. Also they're married. It's kind of the thing they're supposed to do. Stiles is quiet for another couple of seconds, one hand lazily finding Derek's hair and threading through the dark strands. ]

Are we gonna do it now? [ Is the second question that occurs to him, and he glances down towards Derek's hips, raising his eyebrows at him and lifting his head. ] Also my back hurts. [ Apparently post sex babbling is also a thing. ]

[ Not in the least bit surprised by the babbling-- because Stiles not talking is the anomaly-- Derek snorts again before he butts into his fingers in his hair. But it's brief affection, because he shifts to get his arms under himself so that he can push himself up easily. When he settles it's on his knees, and he reaches to gently heft Stiles into some semblance of an upright position. Mostly because he looks like his limbs are still made out of gelatin, to be perfectly honest. ]

That... requires getting prepared for it. [ He seems to consider the question, as he reaches his hand around behind Stiles. Touch careful, his hand settles over the triskele so that his palm is raised and way from it but his fingertips are soft where the skin is tender surrounding it. ] We can start now.

Wow, that's ominous. [ He mumbles that a little sarcastically--it kind of has a reason to be ominous and he knows that already, but talking about it with Scott (and traumatizingly enough with Erica) wasn't the same as experiencing it. But Stiles is stubborn and also needs to know everything and that is on his list of Things to Know, because if he's going to be having ridiculously awesome sex for the rest of his life he wants to go on armed with knowledge.

Pressing a couple of lazy kisses to his throat where Derek's shifted him up--he just leaned forward and planted his face in the crook of his neck and shoulder--Stiles hums a little and nods. ] Can getting prepared for it involve a lot of making out?

Inserting "tab B into slot A" is actually a process, because not preparing makes it painful. [ He knows better than to think Stiles doesn't know anything about what it actually entails, because he would absolutely ask Scott (and Erica) about anything and everything. Stiles is fiercely curious and has, more than anything else, a need to be right about everything. So Derek figures their education requires a lot more show than tell, since he's already been given a crash course on the tell.

He tips his head to the side to let Stiles tuck against the crook of his neck, something of a subvocal vibration meets his mouth, content and comfortable and trusting. ] Absolutely.

Oh, hot. [ That's said as blandly as possible, sarcastic as always, and he grins a little lazily against the thin skin of his neck, absently kissing at errant bits of stubble. Derek is kind of ridiculously gorgeous most of the time, and right now is anything but an exception, flushed mouth and messy hair and just sounding happy. Stiles is pretty damn happy too, all things considered.

He pulls away slowly and looks at him from under his brow, planting long fingers against his chest before leaning forward and pressing a kiss to his mouth, soft and sweet. ]

[ Rolling his eyes-- fondly, at least-- he bows his head forward to place a nip against the meat of his shoulder in retribution for his sass. Which is something he's going to employ more often, now that he absolutely can. But otherwise Derek remains still, letting Stiles' mouth wander, his pulse steady beneath his mouth. He really is happy, settled in the heat of the tent with Stiles, the taste of him still on his tongue and his skin flushed and warm. He brings his hand up from where it sits just over the triskele between his shoulders, sliding his fingers through his disheveled hair from the back.

It stays there, as Stiles moves to kiss him, curling gently in it as he tips in to return the kiss without hesitation. It's easy to just fall into this, like a steady dialogue between them. ]

[ Reacting just a little to the hand in his hair, Stiles rolls up into the kiss, more or less. It's lazy and languid and the kind of thing usually reserved for the very rare Sunday morning when Stiles happened to wake up when Derek did, and he brings his hands up to fan over his stubbled cheeks, holding him in place and kissing him long and slow, still not quite over the weird tingles in his mouth from earlier. And not even the fact that Derek tastes like--yeah. Jesus.

It's a lot to take in at once, especially considering his lower half is just now starting to show interest again. ]

[ Leaning into Stiles' touch against his cheeks, and opening more into the kiss, Derek can't help the pleased noise at the back of his throat again. If he can wake up to this every day and go to bed with it every night for the rest of his life, he's pretty sure that he'll make it through whatever hells the gods both new and old will throw at him. Stiles makes everything worth it.

And is maybe more than a little intoxicating at this point. He slides his free hand up, following the path of marks he's left behind-- brushing over the pulse of his throat-- until it can join the first, curling in his hair. ]

[ Stiles is discovering that he likes a lot of things lately. Hands in his hair is definitely one of them. He echoes Derek's soft, pleased noise with one of his own and and curls his fingers against his jaw. Stiles could probably literally sit here and kiss him forever, to be honest--fuck responsibilities, fuck being the lupa. (Not really, but it's a nice thought.)

However, he is still Stiles, and he fidgets a little, not sure exactly where to be going from here. He learned a lot about the mechanics about this, but that doesn't mean he learned a lot about Derek with it. ]

[ Corners of his mouth twitching a little in response, Derek squeezes his fingers just a touch in his brown hair, testing his reaction rather shamelessly. This is essentially a continuous learning experience for both of them, and he is going to soak up every single thing that makes Stiles sigh and moan, remember it and use it. If they really can spend a week as just Derek and Stiles, not faoladh and lupa, then he is going to use it damn well. (He knows better than to think that they'll get a full week, too, but it's nice to want things again.)

So in tune with Stiles as he is, it's not as if he could miss the way he fidgets, no matter how minute it is. Right, this is a process that they both need to figure out. ]

[ He's totally got this, right. Totally. Another pleased sigh comes out of him at the tug, and he shifts forward just a little, scooting up on his knees until he can plant himself in Derek's lap. That's the confirmation he apparently needed, because all of a sudden his secondary brain is very much on top of this (pun so intended), and he shifts to sit up a little so he can lean over Derek a little while he's kissing him, shoulders coming up a little as he starts to get a little more into it, kisses a little less chaste, a little less lazy.

Is he nervous? Undoubtedly. But it's the excited kind that twists up in his stomach, and Stiles is just busting down all kinds of walls today. It's kind of perfect. ]

[ Suddenly finding himself with a lapful of Stiles is the furthest thing from surprising, and not even in the same universe as unwanted. His fingers gentle in his hair, loosening slowly, before Derek starts to slide them down the back of his neck. He presses his fingertips along the skin there, overlapping with the marks he's left behind from holding tight to him, then drags them down to follow the path of his spine where he's leaned over him. With the renewed vigor of the kisses, it's pretty damn easy to just get lost in Stiles even more.

But he doesn't stop moving his hands, short nails drawing down under his shoulder blades before he flattens warm palms down, fingers fanned wide as he makes his way to his hips. Part of his intent is reassurance, but all of it is just needing to touch him before they really get moving again. ]

[ Touching is awesome. Touching is fanfreakintastic. Stiles sighs into his mouth and wraps his arms tight around Derek's shoulders, the skin on skin contact sending a shiver down his spine. His hips shift a little out of instinct, and there's something that doing this without clothes on that anything they've ever done beforehand can't quite compare to; he mumbles something that sounds like "awesome" and rolls his hips into Derek's touch.

When he breaks the kiss, it's with a grin, mouths still touching just a little, as he mumbles, ] Are we really gonna get a whole week of this? I am so down.

[ Even though he already knows the answer. ]

[ Echoing the sigh, Derek brings his hands around to the front of his hips, drifting towards his thighs. He's basically going to spend most of the first night, nevermind the rest of the week, just letting his touch wander everywhere. Because he reaches out for and touches Stiles frequently, but this is a whole different thing. Even if he winds up mumbling into the kiss the way he does, though it gets him to chuckle a little.

Considering his question as he asks it, he tips his chin up to catch Stiles' bottom lip between both of his, sucking lightly before he draws back with a drag of teeth. ] Anything you want.

That's a dangerous answer, Hale. [ His face lights up immediately as Derek chases him through the kiss, and Stiles feels the heat tighten up in his stomach again--he's always been down for the arguing, the competition, the bickering that they'd pretty much become famous for around the encampment. Stiles' favorite hobby was riling Derek up and had been since day one, only know it comes with additional, sexy, sexy consequences.

So he grins, a sickle of a thing, and raises an eyebrow at him, then leans in and steals another kiss. ]

Marrying you already sealed my fate. [ Tone dry but expression both amused and affectionate, Derek squeezes his hands firmly around his hips and shifts his own upwards against him. There's no denying that he really thrives on the push and pull between them, but there is something definitely different about it here. Stiles can rile him up all he wants, but there are definitely (sexy) consequences attached to it. ]

I think it's worth the risk. [ With that answer, he smirks into the kiss as he meets it, thumbs pressing a bruising mark on each hip. ]

[ Oh, that's nice. The pressure is familiar and warm and it makes that syrupy heat return to his gut just a little--Stiles drops his arms over his shoulders and shivers a little as his thumbs sink in, visibly letting the chill go up his spine. He reaches out and bites his lower lip, licking into that smirk and cupping his cheeks in his hands instead, fidgety as always. ]

What is, giving me everything I want? [ He presses a softer kiss to his mouth, puts on a fake, questioning expression. ] What if I asked for...like, a castle.

[ Rubbing against his hips after he leaves behind the soft bruises, Derek hardly seems bothered by the fidgeting that goes across his shoulders, brushes across his cheeks. He meets him in the kiss, following after him, tongue tracing the shape of his mouth. His hands want to wander everywhere again, but he keeps them steady where they're settled as his hips shift up again. ]

How big would you want it to be? [ He returns the softer kiss, following it to the corner of his mouth, down across soft skin, until he can press one against his chin. ] Closer to the Wall, or in the middle of the wilds?

[ He can't help the grin curling across his face--there's a momentary wide eyed stare and a-- ] Whoa, really? [ Before he realizes he's probably just screwing with him.

Still, he returns the favor, rolling his hips down sinously slow and letting Derek nip at his chin by tilting his head up, threading the fingers that were on his cheeks through the dark threads of his hair and holding him there, instead. ] In the middle of the wilds. With an ice moat.

Don't test me. [ His voice rumbles even more again, pressed against the curve of Stiles' chin as he kisses it, leaves a soft drag of teeth in a wolfish nip. It doesn't even register to him that he's been doing it for ages now, affection and equality rolled all into one. The faoladh and the lupa are two sides of the same coin, after all. ] I will actually build you a castle.

[ And chase down the moon-- the true one, not the one that sits before him that he's already caught, though it shines brighter in his mind-- to give to him, and find spring in the middle of winter just so he won't be cold anymore.

The slow pressure rebuilding between them continues, entire body seeming to roll with the motions, even as that warmth in his chest brightens even more in an overwhelming affection for his southerner. ]

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