Stiles’s Wiles

[Sterekdrabbles challenge for 01/14/19: “bend, scratch, pure”]

On AO3.

The love Stiles felt for his husband was pure. And so was the lust.

“Derek!” he shouted from the yard, before bending way over to retrieve a wrench he’d dropped pretending to work on Roscoe’s engine.

Derek walked, didn’t run, to Stiles, because he had a problem in his pants.

“Ugh! So itchy!” Stiles complained raking his fingers down his neck in slow scratches. “I really gotta shave.”

Derek stared, no slave to instinct but a werewolf could stand only so much.

Later on in bed Derek slept, content, while Stiles, equally content, commended himself as a tease who pleased.