Everyone always talked about Stiles’ moles. He’d spent years listening to his dad, or Derek, or hell, even Scott, joke about the odd constellations of darkened spots that traced the corner of his jaw, or the side of his neck. They were his distinguishing features. Like, according to Lydia, his naturally interrogatory expression, or his proclivity for all things flannel and layered. Or, if you were to ask his dad, his inability to keep his mouth from speaking any of his thoughts.
Although, whenever Derek mentioned his moles, which, granted, wasn’t often, he usually went beet-red because he knew they didn’t just stop at Stiles’ collar like the human told people they did. His lips had been, at one point or another, pressed over each one, tongue tracing lines between them and the odd patterns they created all the way down his back. He’d sunk his teeth over the swirls of them that dotted his ass, and nuzzled at the ones that step-stoned across the front of his hips toward other things that Derek also thoroughly enjoyed.
Stiles enjoyed it too, because, well, who wouldn’t love their own personal werewolf boyfriend with an oral fixation, a god-like body, and a delusional belief that the person underneath him was the most perfect thing in the whole goddamn world, moles and all?
sterek!au :: [a late birthday gift for amy rose]stiles stilinski is a senior in college and back home in beacon hills for the first time in four years. his first night home includes: alcohol, scott, alcohol, bromancing, shots and hooking up with this hottie at the bar. of course, he tries to do the same thing the next night, but he gets arrested by his father’s deputy and wakes up in jail the next morning, with a hangover and a clue to who the mystery one-night-stand was.
When they get home from the movies Derek and Stiles’ friends are gathered in the living room glaring at them. Stiles pulls away from Derek’s mouth, peeks over his shoulder to see the dumb banner they all made last year after Scott insisted on wearing the same beanie hat for three months solid that has ‘INTERVENTION’ scrawled over it.
"You gotta be kidding me," he mutters. "Look, I know some of you don’t like the beard," he glares in Lydia’s direction and she rolls her eyes. "But, I do, and more importantly Derek does and—"
"Stiles," Allison cuts in. "This isn’t about Derek’s beard."
"Which is ridiculous,” Lydia adds to her nails.
Derek glares at her, and Stiles blindly pats his scruff covered cheek as he tries to figure out what’s going on. “Is it me?”
"You’re fine as you are," Derek snaps immediately, stance almost protective as he steps in front of Stiles. "He’s not changing anything."
"Shit, you’re so fucking sweet," Stiles says fondly and Derek rolls his eyes, even as his lips are twitching. Stiles leans forward without thought—
"That," Scott points at them. "That is what this intervention is about.”
Stiles jerks away from Derek incredulously. “You think we kiss too much?! Dude.”
"No," Scott cries. "I don’t care about your ridiculous amounts of PDA."
"I kinda do," the Sheriff says casually from where he’s reading the Sports section on the couch.
"Dad," Stiles croaks. "Didn’t see you there."
"Hello son," the Sheriff removes his glasses. "Now, we all love you, both of you, and we know you’re grown ups and can lead your own lives. But, frankly when Scott came to me I had to admit, this is needed."
"You don’t ever lock the door," Isaac blurts out from the corner. "It’s all the fuck— sorry Sheriff— all the time! I only wanted to borrow tape, and you were just," he waves a hand at the floor in front of them, "Naked.”
"You defiled my bathroom," Allison says in a low voice. "I’d only just gotten it wallpapered. Do you know how long it took for Lydia to agree with one I liked?”
"No one likes floral on the walls, honey," Lydia says briskly, before fixing her eyes on Stiles and Derek, who both lean into one another. "I’m more than happy to watch when invited—"
The Sheriff makes a stressed out noise and Lydia winces.
"Sorry, Sheriff. But, the mall is my sacred place. And now I can’t step into Macy’s without thinking about what I saw in that third floor changing room.”
"At Prom they—"
"Ah ah ahhhh," Stiles points at Danny. "One, that was years ago, two not in front of my dad and three, this is honestly ridiculous! I listened to Scott talk about your toe nails for an hour once, Allison. You come over for breakfast on Saturdays and list off your dating trials and tribulations whilst you eat all my delicious breakfast food," he continues, glaring at Isaac. "And you," he drops his hand. "Well, yeah, sorry dad. I guess we should uh, invest in better locks."
"And no more public indecency in car parks, Stiles, really," the Sheriff shakes his head. "You’re twenty five. And you should know better," he adds to Derek. "I told you to keep him out of trouble."
Derek hangs his head a little and the Sheriff hides his grin.
"Just," Scott winces. "I’ve seen more of Derek’s naked… everything than I ever want to see, ever again.”
"Ok!" Stiles cries desperately. "We’ll remember this, forever, I swear, just— get out of our apartment and let’s never speak of this again?"
"Do you promise to start locking the door?"
Stiles locks the door after them, tips his head back against the wood and sighs as Derek moves to stand in front of him.
"I don’t think I’ll ever be able to get it up again, ever. Just, an FYI in case you wanna go out with Isaac next week and look for someone capable, and someone with a less embarrassing father."
Derek smiles before leaning to lick a stripe up Stiles’ throat. “Challenge accepted,” he murmurs, sliding his hand up Stiles’ thigh.
Goddamnitt Amy Rose.
You are too freaking perfect.
Happy Halloween!!! This fic is inspired by Aidi, her follower with that URL and my fever (because I was sick when I got this idea). And it also counts as a sequel to my Clueless fic where Stiles is wearing a french maid’s outfit.
“Knock, knock Mr. Hale!” Stiles shouted at the door of Derek’s loft, hand rapping against it simultaneously.
“Aren’t you supposed to say trick-or-treat?” Derek asked when he opened the door, bowl of candy held in front of him.
Stiles blinked. Stiles stared. Stiles blinked again.
“Aren’t you supposed to be wearing clothes?” Stiles’ eyes raked down Derek’s naked body and the bowl of candy that was blocking his.. well what Stiles would consider the treat.
Derek smirked, brow quirked in amusement. “Did you want some candy?”
The fuck happened?
WHAT THE FUCK HAPPENED?
SOMEONE TELL WHAT THE FUCKING HELL HAPPENED?
It’s a skit from MTV After Hours With Josh Horowitz
JUST LET IT BE FREE
Sometimes I stay up late at night contemplating if Tyler’s crotch region is as hairy as his face, and if it is…may god have mercy on my soul.