[ The deeper push pretty much garbles any words coming out of his mouth, and the fingers that had been searching for something reach back into Derek's hair again, finding a grip and basically holding on for dear life--the noises he's making are bordering on obscene and loud, and it's almost like an out of body thing, like he hasn't even really noticed he's doing it yet.
Everything is focused on the friction between them, the driving pressure, hot and full and heavy, and he urges him on with another noise, a choked off groan of his name as he clutches at the furs and pushes back, until he's practically breathless and writhing with it. ]
[ Another string of curses leaves Derek at the absolutely obscene noises leaving Stiles, and if he could record them he would be positively thrilled. It just means there's going to have to be repeat performances, testing different methods to get the sounds from him every time. He doesn't even register that the rest of the encampment can probably hear them, their alphas breathless but very, very loud. Stiles beats him by leaps and bounds, but a loud, rumbling moan is pulled from him between a thrust and the pull of Stiles' fingers.
He has to reach one hand out from his hip, bringing it down to curl over Stiles' fist in the furs, trying to brace himself so he doesn't tip over as he rocks into Stiles every time he pushes back. For as strained as he is, Stiles' name tumbles out of him again in response, pressed to his skin. ]
[ Almost immediately, Stiles turns his hand up and it finds Derek's fingers blindly, curling them together and digging his nails into the top of his palm, until it's leaving red marks in the tanned skin. Frankly, it's barely something to focus on, and when he shudders against Derek, he tugs at the hair he has in his hand before letting go and dropping a hand in between them to get a hand on himself, something.
It kind of feels like he's about to explode any second now, and Derek's name practically tattoos out of his mouth as he leans down again, buries his face in his arm to try and muscle the sound of it and continually thrusting backwards into him, toes curling. Yeah this is pretty much it. ]
[ As Stiles releases his hair, Derek tips his head to tuck his nose into Stiles' own hair, thick and damp with sweat but pushing a little on perfect. His fingers curl tight with his, an anchor for as much as he's drowning in the moment. But he realizes, after a moment, where Stiles' other hand has gone to now that it's no longer in his hair. Slowly loosening his fingers from his hip, the faoladh dips his hand down to find his lupa's, broad fingers overlapping long.
He doesn't even bother trying to muffle anything that comes out of his mouth, between rolling growls and half-snarls mixed with breathless groans and moans that sound a lot more like Stiles' name than anything else. But towards the end of it, he murmurs just behind his ear, his name and a string of three words that are meant only for Stiles and not the encampment around them as his hips snap forward, rhythm growing unsteady. ]
[ It's Derek's hand wrapping around his that's the breaking point, familiar rough callouses and a hand that definitely is not his--three-two-one and he goes off like a shot, taking in a ragged gasp of air and clutching at Derek's hand a little tighter. His stamina's not exactly prime fighter shape, considering this is the second time he's gotten off since this whole thing started, and his back arches as he rides out the waves of it, shivering and spreading just a little wider underneath Derek to accommodate what's about to come next, considering.
He pants it right back to him though, wrecked and through gasps of air, I love you too, because he does, he really, really does, whether it's in the middle of sex or getting a tattoo that marks him more or less as his. ]
[ There's a whole combination of things that pushes Derek after Stiles. He strokes him through it as best he can, but honestly his senses are so filled with Stiles that he can't focus on anything except the way he tightens around him before he's opening up to him. Bringing his hand away from where it overlaps, he fists it into the furs to mirror where he's still holding onto Stiles with the other, bracing as he presses in once last time.
Something akin to a wrecked groan leaves him as he comes, and he presses his forehead into the back of a pale shoulder when he does. Even with as muddled as his head is, swimming in everything that is this moment, he's not entirely oblivious to the fact that Stiles pretty much just braced himself for it in a completely different way typical people would.
Which is probably a good thing, because he can feel a swelling even as his entire body buzzes, breathing heavily. ]
[ This was the part he'd asked Scott about--who'd mostly shied away from an answer until Stiles basically provoked it out of him--and, once again, something he was totally convinced he was prepared for until it actually happened. He's sort of mentally barely there at the moment, brains pretty much mush, but he can feel Derek's hips snap into his and the weirdly satisfying feeling of him just letting go, and right when he sucks in a deep breath, he can feel the swelling too, pressing up against tight muscles and pretty much demanding room, and Stiles gasps and slurs out a swear, using Derek's hand as an anchor as he can still feel him pulsing his way through it, warm and wet and so ridiculously good it's making his head spin.
Holy fuck.
He barely tunes into Derek panting over his shoulder and tilts his head into his cheek, the aftershocks shaking his frame against Derek's just a little. ] Hhholy god.
[ It takes far more willpower than he is actually in possession of right now for Derek to not shift his weight forward as he essentially locks himself into place. He knows it shouldn't last long, that this is probably one of the top three best positions for them to be knotted in, but it's difficult to just sit still when it feels that goddamn good. Everything is sensitive and he can feel a thrum under his skin, it just doesn't change anything, even as his own shocks shudder up and down his spine.
Groaning out a shaky laugh, voice a little hoarse, he lets their cheeks rest together as he keeps his elbows locked so that he doesn't outright drop on Stiles before they have a chance to settle. Truth be told, though, he could probably melt down onto his mate and never move again at this point.
His mind has a hard time getting back together, from the combination of the tight pressure still around him to Stiles' own swearing, how he practically fell apart right there with Derek. But it gets some semblance of order, eventually. ] Fuck.
[ Thank god Derek is holding them up, because Stiles' arms pretty much give out immediately and he is completely content to lay there with Derek basically wrapped around, taking attached at the hip to a whole new level. The shocks are still coming every now and then, trailing down to his fingertips and toes until he has to fidget a little, which rocks Derek just a little inside, which punches a breathless little noise out of his throat. Right. Okay, moving is kind of difficult. Still, he's not in the most comfortable position in the world right now, so he just kind of turns his attention to Derek and nudges him with his shoulders, wiggling backwards like he's going to try and sit up, still attached and sitting in his lap instead.
Flashing him an exhausted, satisfied smile, Stiles resists the urge to wiggle a little and focuses on how freakin' amazing that feels, full and tight and just this shy of being too much--one of his free hands comes up to lace lazily in his hair again, and he kisses at his cheek sloppily, getting comfortable again. ] Were you planning...on telling me about this part?
[ Not that he sounds even remotely angry. Satisfied, more like. ]
[ Stiles moving to get them upright draws out a low ahh from him, and his hips twitch in an effort to keep from bucking up in response. Because holy hell, that is way too much at once and he has to close his eyes to keep them from rolling back. Still, he unwinds his fingers where they're joined on one side, carefully assisting until he has a lapful of Stiles once again.
As they settle, it's a little easier for him to adjust again. For as much as he'd worried about it before, had absolutely thought about pulling out before he could get locked into place, the fact that Stiles spread himself more for it just... encouraged it. Slowly, he winds his arms around his waist, humming contentment at the hand in his hair, the kiss to his cheek.
Every now and then, a muscle twitches in aftershock. His fingers have to adjust where they're settled, thighs going tense where Stiles is seated but relaxing again. ] Scott wouldn't look me in the eye for a week. I figured you'd wrung it out of him at that point. [ A pause, and then he admits against his shoulder: ] I wasn't going to do it, at first.
Okay, whoa, jesus, moving is not that great of an idea. [ At least where he's situated now, he has no real desire to move again, but the shocks that sent coursing through his veins almost made his vision go blurry, and Stiles carefully gets settled and leans back against Derek's chest, trying to get the deepseated tremble from his bones as he turns his head and tucks it into his neck, mumbling against an already fading mark and chuckling a little. ]
He was mortified, but it was so worth it. So worth it. [ His voice is low and weird sounding and he doesn't even care; Stiles just looks up at him with the admission, heavy lidded brown eyes looking at his face before he scoffs. ] What's the point of [ jazz hands ] ~consummation~ if you're not gonna go the full hog? Full...wolf? Full knot? Ew, nevermind. Full hog.
[ He's just gonna continue to ramble, because he's Stiles. A part of him wants to know why, though, and he frowns a little from his joke bravado, curling just a little closer. This should probably hurt, but it doesn't. ] Why not, anyway?
[ There's an agreeable grunt as his only response at first, his eyes closing as he hunches so that his chin hooks on his shoulder as they get settled. As Stiles turns to tuck his nose against his neck, he tips his head to let him, staying like that because he absolutely refuses to move again. There's a deep contentment in him that sinks right into his bones, and Derek definitely intends to hold onto it for a while. ]
On one side, Scott. On the other, Erica was grinning at me like a lunatic. It was easy to put it together. [ He snorts a little, cracking an eye open to look at him. His own voice stays low, a faint rumble tucked beneath it every time he talks. The corners of his mouth curl downward in amusement as Stiles keeps going, but he returns the half-lidded stare, red gone from his eyes and replaced with clear green. ]
[ He can't help but shudder at the reminder of Erica's talk, dropping his hands to rest on Derek's arm and shaking his head, chuckling a little. ] Erica gave me way too much information, man, I can never look at Boyd the same way again. I don't know what I was thinking when I asked for her help.
[ Honestly, he was thinking he'd get an honest answer instead of stammering. Which is exactly what he got and way more than he bargained for.
This is stupidly soothing, and it really shouldn't be--it's like he's all cossetted up and bundled into something warm and kinda safe and comfortable, and the subvocal rumble of Derek's voice at his back is doing nothing but making him sleepy, but he definitely has the time to shoot Derek a tired, flat look. ] You turn into a wolf when you put on your cloak and you were worried about that?
[ It's teasing though, and he drops his head back to his shoulder, shaking his head. It's so...Derek. To be worried about something like that. ]
Well, you're certainly well-informed now. [ Tone dry, he slips his arm a little more securely around his waist. But his other hand comes up, broad fingers brushing over spindly almost absently as he closes his eyes again for a moment.
Stuck as they are, it's incredibly comfortable-- and would probably be a turn-on if they weren't so tired already-- and he's warm. Content and happy and home. Stiles is home, in a way that quells that need to move across the entire territory that his pack usually occupies. Derek will build Stiles a castle if he really wants one, but his lupa is the only castle he needs. ]
Yes, Stiles. [ Eyes cracking open again, he kisses his shoulder softly, lips brushing over vibrant marks he's left behind on moon-fair skin. ] As per usual it was entirely unfounded with you, but at least I knew you'd ask a million questions until you wound up getting to this one.
Obviously. [ The sarcastic little wiggles does him no favors, and he shivers involuntarily, muttering to himself about that whole non-moving thing, then gets comfortable again. If he looks downwards, he looks like a wreck--there are marks all over his chest and a couple on his thighs, and he's sure he probably looks like he belongs on a morgue table with the number of marks on his neck, fingertips included, but it just makes him grin kind of stupidly. That totally did happen.
Feeling successfully devirginized--obviously--Stiles presses another lazy kiss to the skin nearest to him and feels his eyes getting heavy. Cuddling with Derek is like being up against the very coals of a flame, and it's just succeeding in making him sleepier, as, apparently, really awesome sex does. Marriage consummated.
Married to Derek, the lupa to his faoladh, an alpha and his second. Yeah, he can live with that.
Smile settling a little, he snorts. ] I'm waiting for the "yes, Stiles, you were right, and I have no reason to freak out about things like my dick growing three sizes that day.""
[ Everything in him tenses as Stiles wiggles, and Derek tries not to squeeze him in the process because it's not just him that's still sensitive. An affirmative noise leaves him, a little strained but still agreeing with the whole non-moving thing for a minute there. But once he settles back into place again, he slowly relaxes against his back, admiring the marks that've been left behind. Derek maybe got a little rough, but Stiles sure as hell seemed to enjoy it.
There's still marks scattered across his tanned skin, but they're a little faded in comparison to the vibrancy of Stiles'.
A pleased hum leaves him as he feels another kiss brush across skin, and he nuzzles into the pale stretch of Stiles' shoulder. But with his smartass comment, he uses it to bury his face and brace himself, shifting his hips a little both to see if he can come lose and to reprimand him a little. It results in a hiss from him, but it's worth it. ] So long as you're enjoying yourself.
Hhohhmygod. [ Stiles digs his hands into Derek's arm where they're resting when he shifts his hips, and he can already feel the pool of heat in his gut showing some interest, which is really not cool considering the fact that he's gotten off twice today and that is more than he was pretty sure he could actually handle. Dropping his head back against his shoulder, a hand twists up and finds his hair again, sliding through the sweat soaked strands like he's using it as an anchor. ]
No, it was awful, which is why I'm still sitting--well, that's not why I'm sitting here, but it's why I'm definitely contemplating how the morning's gonna go tomorrow. [ A beat as he slowly uncurls his toes, bracing a little in case he does end up coming loose. ] If I can even move tomorrow.
[ A growl leaves him at Stiles' fingers in his hair, though it's not as rolling as they were earlier. Derek has a lot of stamina in general, but despite the fact that they could very well continue once he comes loose again and he'd be more than willing, his energy is somewhat depleted at the moment. So provoking Stiles is a double-edged blade in this instance. ]
You're probably not going to want to. [ A little strained again, he waits for a moment before he uses the arms around Stiles to hold him steady. After both of them getting off twice, he should-- ] Gods.
[ Be able to slide out, the swelling having gone down after a decent amount of time. For as comfortable as he was, and for how completely sated he felt buried in Stiles, it's probably for the best that he take advantage of the fact that he can come loose. Even if it means dealing with the shiver that runs up his spine as he does. ]
Challenge accepted. [ Aside from a very brief (and awful) fantasy of them getting stuck together forever and having to get Deaton or Scott to pry them apart again, the whole getting out part is a lot smoother than Stiles was expecting. He bites his lip when Derek's arms shift around him and shuts his eyes, bearing down for a second as he starts to pull away.
Eyes slowly blinking back open, the lupa squirms a little, trying to deal with the actual weirdness that comes from feeling kind of--weirdly empty. That's embarrassing. He shivers a little at the lost of contact and slumps against Derek's chest, boneless. ] I'm never moving again.
[ Aside from the fact that he's a total mess and he has to get on the actual furs to sleep instead of using Derek as a sitting up pillow instead. ]
I'm not moving tomorrow unless it's to do that again. [ Derek bumps his forehead into the back of Stiles' head, tone dry again but still a little strained. He did say they would have a week-long vacation, after all. No one's going to want to come into their tent because of the sex stink, but he honestly doesn't care. They can stay far, far away from it and give them an actual reprieve in lieu of a honeymoon of some kind.
He lets Stiles get settled again against him, happy to let him slump there for the time being. Though he knows they do have to at least move to clean themselves up and sleep, he's busy oddly missing that contact and instead burying his nose where neck meets shoulder, breathing Stiles in and just enjoying the warmth of him in his arms. ] We need to.
[ At some point. He's obviously not in any hurry. ]
That sounds like a plan, tiger. [ A long, obnoxious yawn escapes him, and Stiles shifts just a little, trying to reconcile that weird emptiness with more close contact--he slides his long limbs across Derek's shoulders, tucks his head into the crook of his neck and brings his knees up, sleepy and lazy and comfortable settled in Derek's lap.
He doesn't mind when Derek sticks his face in his neck either, considering, and just lets him inhale or do whatever weird thing he's going to do--the close personal contact is something he's had time to get used to, and now it just gets passed off as a Derekism. Stiles chuckles and flops a hand in an aborted gesture. ] I mean, if you're fine with sleeping like this, I totally am.
[ Something soft and affectionate leaves him in a snort at the yawn, and Derek just lets Stiles move himself around and get comfortable. He practically bundles him up in his arms, lips brushing against marked and unmarked skin alike in silent contact. His limbs don't really want to do very much, but he still utilizes them, shifting up to his knees and holding Stiles steady. ]
I'm a mess. You're a mess. If you want to sleep like that, then hey. [ But he moves them just enough to drop into a seated position again actually amongst the sleeping furs instead of the tangle that they'd inadvertently devoted to the whole consummation aspect of tonight. The moment he's settled with his lapful of Stiles again, he nuzzles his nose into the hinge of his jaw and, yes, inhales. ]
Your ass is a mess. [ He grins sleepily at his comeback that makes absolutely zero sense (especially considering the circumstances) and allows Derek to manhandle him accordingly. He's pretty much bundled up in Derek's arms even after they sit down, and for once in his life he's not going to complain about it--he just stretches his legs out a little and curls back in again.
Derek's snuffling at his jaw is even soothing at this point. Mumbling, he traces absent patterns against the skin of his shoulder, brown eyes fluttering. ] As the lupa I'm commanding you to take care of it. And 's your sssssssssspouse [ Popping the p. ], I'm commanding you to take care of me.
[ He levels him a really? look with mostly his eyebrows contributing to the expression, but instead just settles with an armful of pliant lupa and cranes back a little to see if there's something around to clean them up. Thankfully, there is, because otherwise Derek would seriously say screw it and go to sleep right now. But he tugs the bowl over, lukewarm as it is now, and takes the damp cloth. ]
That's a lot of commanding. [ Still, he tucks his nose back against his jaw as he works on actually following said commanding, green and gold-flecked eyes half-shut as he goes. ]
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Everything is focused on the friction between them, the driving pressure, hot and full and heavy, and he urges him on with another noise, a choked off groan of his name as he clutches at the furs and pushes back, until he's practically breathless and writhing with it. ]
U u U
He has to reach one hand out from his hip, bringing it down to curl over Stiles' fist in the furs, trying to brace himself so he doesn't tip over as he rocks into Stiles every time he pushes back. For as strained as he is, Stiles' name tumbles out of him again in response, pressed to his skin. ]
this one was hella embarrassing goodbye
It kind of feels like he's about to explode any second now, and Derek's name practically tattoos out of his mouth as he leans down again, buries his face in his arm to try and muscle the sound of it and continually thrusting backwards into him, toes curling. Yeah this is pretty much it. ]
Wow proud of you.
He doesn't even bother trying to muffle anything that comes out of his mouth, between rolling growls and half-snarls mixed with breathless groans and moans that sound a lot more like Stiles' name than anything else. But towards the end of it, he murmurs just behind his ear, his name and a string of three words that are meant only for Stiles and not the encampment around them as his hips snap forward, rhythm growing unsteady. ]
GONNA FINISH THIS THREAD
He pants it right back to him though, wrecked and through gasps of air, I love you too, because he does, he really, really does, whether it's in the middle of sex or getting a tattoo that marks him more or less as his. ]
AND HERE WE GO.
Something akin to a wrecked groan leaves him as he comes, and he presses his forehead into the back of a pale shoulder when he does. Even with as muddled as his head is, swimming in everything that is this moment, he's not entirely oblivious to the fact that Stiles pretty much just braced himself for it in a completely different way typical people would.
Which is probably a good thing, because he can feel a swelling even as his entire body buzzes, breathing heavily. ]
lord have mercy on me
Holy fuck.
He barely tunes into Derek panting over his shoulder and tilts his head into his cheek, the aftershocks shaking his frame against Derek's just a little. ] Hhholy god.
I think it's too late for that.
Groaning out a shaky laugh, voice a little hoarse, he lets their cheeks rest together as he keeps his elbows locked so that he doesn't outright drop on Stiles before they have a chance to settle. Truth be told, though, he could probably melt down onto his mate and never move again at this point.
His mind has a hard time getting back together, from the combination of the tight pressure still around him to Stiles' own swearing, how he practically fell apart right there with Derek. But it gets some semblance of order, eventually. ] Fuck.
cries
Flashing him an exhausted, satisfied smile, Stiles resists the urge to wiggle a little and focuses on how freakin' amazing that feels, full and tight and just this shy of being too much--one of his free hands comes up to lace lazily in his hair again, and he kisses at his cheek sloppily, getting comfortable again. ] Were you planning...on telling me about this part?
[ Not that he sounds even remotely angry. Satisfied, more like. ]
pets
As they settle, it's a little easier for him to adjust again. For as much as he'd worried about it before, had absolutely thought about pulling out before he could get locked into place, the fact that Stiles spread himself more for it just... encouraged it. Slowly, he winds his arms around his waist, humming contentment at the hand in his hair, the kiss to his cheek.
Every now and then, a muscle twitches in aftershock. His fingers have to adjust where they're settled, thighs going tense where Stiles is seated but relaxing again. ] Scott wouldn't look me in the eye for a week. I figured you'd wrung it out of him at that point. [ A pause, and then he admits against his shoulder: ] I wasn't going to do it, at first.
HARD PART'S OVER ;A:
He was mortified, but it was so worth it. So worth it. [ His voice is low and weird sounding and he doesn't even care; Stiles just looks up at him with the admission, heavy lidded brown eyes looking at his face before he scoffs. ] What's the point of [ jazz hands ] ~consummation~ if you're not gonna go the full hog? Full...wolf? Full knot? Ew, nevermind. Full hog.
[ He's just gonna continue to ramble, because he's Stiles. A part of him wants to know why, though, and he frowns a little from his joke bravado, curling just a little closer. This should probably hurt, but it doesn't. ] Why not, anyway?
YES INDEEDY.
On one side, Scott. On the other, Erica was grinning at me like a lunatic. It was easy to put it together. [ He snorts a little, cracking an eye open to look at him. His own voice stays low, a faint rumble tucked beneath it every time he talks. The corners of his mouth curl downward in amusement as Stiles keeps going, but he returns the half-lidded stare, red gone from his eyes and replaced with clear green. ]
Not exactly a common practice.
;;;
[ Honestly, he was thinking he'd get an honest answer instead of stammering. Which is exactly what he got and way more than he bargained for.
This is stupidly soothing, and it really shouldn't be--it's like he's all cossetted up and bundled into something warm and kinda safe and comfortable, and the subvocal rumble of Derek's voice at his back is doing nothing but making him sleepy, but he definitely has the time to shoot Derek a tired, flat look. ] You turn into a wolf when you put on your cloak and you were worried about that?
[ It's teasing though, and he drops his head back to his shoulder, shaking his head. It's so...Derek. To be worried about something like that. ]
uwu
Stuck as they are, it's incredibly comfortable-- and would probably be a turn-on if they weren't so tired already-- and he's warm. Content and happy and home. Stiles is home, in a way that quells that need to move across the entire territory that his pack usually occupies. Derek will build Stiles a castle if he really wants one, but his lupa is the only castle he needs. ]
Yes, Stiles. [ Eyes cracking open again, he kisses his shoulder softly, lips brushing over vibrant marks he's left behind on moon-fair skin. ] As per usual it was entirely unfounded with you, but at least I knew you'd ask a million questions until you wound up getting to this one.
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Feeling successfully devirginized--obviously--Stiles presses another lazy kiss to the skin nearest to him and feels his eyes getting heavy. Cuddling with Derek is like being up against the very coals of a flame, and it's just succeeding in making him sleepier, as, apparently, really awesome sex does. Marriage consummated.
Married to Derek, the lupa to his faoladh, an alpha and his second. Yeah, he can live with that.
Smile settling a little, he snorts. ] I'm waiting for the "yes, Stiles, you were right, and I have no reason to freak out about things like my dick growing three sizes that day.""
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There's still marks scattered across his tanned skin, but they're a little faded in comparison to the vibrancy of Stiles'.
A pleased hum leaves him as he feels another kiss brush across skin, and he nuzzles into the pale stretch of Stiles' shoulder. But with his smartass comment, he uses it to bury his face and brace himself, shifting his hips a little both to see if he can come lose and to reprimand him a little. It results in a hiss from him, but it's worth it. ] So long as you're enjoying yourself.
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No, it was awful, which is why I'm still sitting--well, that's not why I'm sitting here, but it's why I'm definitely contemplating how the morning's gonna go tomorrow. [ A beat as he slowly uncurls his toes, bracing a little in case he does end up coming loose. ] If I can even move tomorrow.
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You're probably not going to want to. [ A little strained again, he waits for a moment before he uses the arms around Stiles to hold him steady. After both of them getting off twice, he should-- ] Gods.
[ Be able to slide out, the swelling having gone down after a decent amount of time. For as comfortable as he was, and for how completely sated he felt buried in Stiles, it's probably for the best that he take advantage of the fact that he can come loose. Even if it means dealing with the shiver that runs up his spine as he does. ]
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Eyes slowly blinking back open, the lupa squirms a little, trying to deal with the actual weirdness that comes from feeling kind of--weirdly empty. That's embarrassing. He shivers a little at the lost of contact and slumps against Derek's chest, boneless. ] I'm never moving again.
[ Aside from the fact that he's a total mess and he has to get on the actual furs to sleep instead of using Derek as a sitting up pillow instead. ]
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He lets Stiles get settled again against him, happy to let him slump there for the time being. Though he knows they do have to at least move to clean themselves up and sleep, he's busy oddly missing that contact and instead burying his nose where neck meets shoulder, breathing Stiles in and just enjoying the warmth of him in his arms. ] We need to.
[ At some point. He's obviously not in any hurry. ]
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He doesn't mind when Derek sticks his face in his neck either, considering, and just lets him inhale or do whatever weird thing he's going to do--the close personal contact is something he's had time to get used to, and now it just gets passed off as a Derekism. Stiles chuckles and flops a hand in an aborted gesture. ] I mean, if you're fine with sleeping like this, I totally am.
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I'm a mess. You're a mess. If you want to sleep like that, then hey. [ But he moves them just enough to drop into a seated position again actually amongst the sleeping furs instead of the tangle that they'd inadvertently devoted to the whole consummation aspect of tonight. The moment he's settled with his lapful of Stiles again, he nuzzles his nose into the hinge of his jaw and, yes, inhales. ]
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Derek's snuffling at his jaw is even soothing at this point. Mumbling, he traces absent patterns against the skin of his shoulder, brown eyes fluttering. ] As the lupa I'm commanding you to take care of it. And 's your sssssssssspouse [ Popping the p. ], I'm commanding you to take care of me.
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That's a lot of commanding. [ Still, he tucks his nose back against his jaw as he works on actually following said commanding, green and gold-flecked eyes half-shut as he goes. ]