(( original photo by Drew ))
Derek isn’t sure if Stiles is aware of just what it means to him the first time Derek tilts his head to the side to reveal his neck. What it means for him to expose himself like that with his throat bared and open for anyone to go in for the kill. Even if Derek is well aware of himself being more human than wolf, it was something he’d been taught at an early age. Never bare your throat to anyone. It was the most obvious sign of submission; the act of a wolf cowering beneath his leader.
He’d never thought he’d do it willingly, even less to a human boy in the darkness of his bedroom.
Stiles’ hot breath is curling over the vein in Derek’s neck, one hand dragging through Derek’s hair while the other grasps his shoulder, fingers digging into his flesh. Derek keeps his eyes closed, listening to their hearts beating oddly in sync. He’s not yet panting, but he knows he’s sweating. It’s almost ridiculous how his whole body seems to be light on fire whenever Stiles’ hands are on him.
He can feel Stiles’ warm presence as he leans in just that much closer, letting another ragged breath ghost over Derek’s skin. Judging by the way he seems to pause next, maybe he really does understand the importance of the werewolf’s gesture. He also doesn’t seem quite sure what to do with all the power and trust handed to him, so Derek tightens his hands on Stiles’ hips, brushing his thumbs over the pointy hipbones as if to nudge him forward.
This boy has been holding Derek’s heart in his hands for months now; he might as well hold his life too.
Encouraged by Derek’s touch, Stiles finally leans in. Derek feels his muscles flexing where he’s still straddling Derek’s thighs as Stiles presses his parted lips softly on his sensitive skin, right above his Adam’s apple. Then Derek feels the edge of Stiles’ teeth barely brushing over his pulse point, and his heart skips a beat except he’s not afraid. Stiles withdraws his teeth almost instantly, covering the spot with wet lips and tongue instead. Derek lets out a humming noise, and he can feel the corners of Stiles’ mouth tug into a smile.
Then he nuzzles the curve of his neck, pressing his nose against the warm skin and sliding up to the base of his jaw, mimicking Derek inhaling his scent. Derek can’t help but scoff faintly. Stiles leans in to rest his forehead on Derek’s temple as he lets out a soft sigh.
"I love you, too," he murmurs simply.
Derek feels warmth spread through his stomach and he angles his head so he can kiss Stiles fully on the mouth because those are the words he’s wanted to say out loud for so long, but never had the courage to. Yet Stiles knows anyway; he figured Derek out before maybe even Derek himself did. And just knowing that Stiles knows how he works and what he means without using words; it’s all Derek needs. All he wants.
And it’s already his.