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Derek covers Stiles’ mouth with his hand again. He steps in closer to him and speaks right against Stiles’ ear. “Stiles, just shut up!” Derek growls. Stiles licks him for good measure, running his tongue wetly and enthusiastically all over his hand, just to be a dick. Derek let’s him go with a soft growl. Stiles can smell him and he gets an insane urge to kiss his stupid face. He hasn’t seen Derek in months; he still can’t really see him technically, just his outline, but boy does he smell good. Stiles get’s a nose full of leather, lime (Derek’s stupid posh shower gel that he insists on buying) and an underlying fresh scent of the woods. Stiles desperately tries to think of his Babcia’s fish casserole, custard pudding and for good measure, those weird angler fish he saw on Animal planet. He tries to think of literally anything in the world that is unsexy because Derek will probably rip his head off if he smells Stiles’ bodily reaction to his close proximity.

Fics like Work it harder, make it better, do it faster.

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