Based on this post.
AMY FUCKING ROSE:
#oh jeez imagine some sort of scenario where he finally takes his shirt off #and Derek walks into a wall #and plays it off like shut up Scott there was a distinct smell of pizza in the air #I WAS DISTRACTED BY PIZZA #and much later maybe months years Stiles’ll walk out of the shower #and Derek’ll get distracted and drop the cup he’s holding #and Stiles’ll be like oh is there ‘pizza’ here again? #and Derek’ll huff like ugh shut up i wasn’t expecting it back then #i was never expecting you
The first time that Derek got to see Stiles shirtless had been a hot day in July. They had gathered at Lydia’s house for a summer barbecue, figuring that nothing said summer vacations better than taking frequent dips in the pool and a barbecue. It had been going fine, typical even, until Isaac decided that Stiles needed to take a dip.
5 minutes later, Stiles had found himself being tossed into the pool by Isaac and Scott (yelling his head off the entire time about the pair being assholes, that he’d get even and the last threat went into the water). Derek had rolled his eyes at his pack’s childish antics but well, they were teenagers. He supposed that a certain degree of leeway could be given. Plus, it would be entirely too amusing to see what kind of revenge Stiles would return on the pair.
He had gotten up out of his seat, mindlessly thinking that he’d get another soda when Stiles had pulled himself out of the pool. After accepting Lydia’s helping hand, the teenager had given the laughing duo a look so dark that Derek pitied them. “Laugh it up you clowns.” Stiles shucked his wet plaid button down off. “I’m gonna make you regret that.”
Scott looked mildly concerned while Isaac all but laughed in Stiles’ face. Derek wondered if he ought to tell the young beta that that wasn’t a smart move but… eh, he’d learn better making his own mistakes right? And then Stiles pulled his wet t-shirt off.
His eyes locked onto the wet line of hair that was dipping down under wet jeans. That were clinging to extremely shapely, long legs (had they always been that long by the way? Derek was having a hard time remembering…). His eyes darted back up when Stiles grumbled and yanked harder on the material stuck around his neck. Derek couldn’t remember the last time he’d had a case of cotton mouth so bad (he could actually but he didn’t want to think about that).
Stiles was all lean lines, the kind Derek wanted to run his hands against and admire the contrast between them. And maybe spend a few hours learning what all that skin would feel against his lips and-
A stinging pain on his nose made Derek start badly. He raised a hand to cup his face, staring his bewilderment at the wall that had come out of nowhere. It took him no time at all to realize what he had just done and felt utterly mortified. He quickly looked around, wanting to make sure that no one had seen him basically walk into a wall after Stiles had half stripped.
Boyd was staring at him, one eyebrow raised high and drink still half way to his lips. Heat rose up his cheeks fast as he mumbled, “I thought I smelled pizza.” He could almost hear Boyd drawling ‘riiiiiiiight’. Not that he had to actually, the look on his face said it all.
Not only was that the only time he’d seen Stiles’ naked chest but it had also been the start of all the damned wet dreams he’d started having about Stiles. It had been more than a little embarrassing to wake up the next morning and find out that he’d made a mess of his briefs because of a (great) dream involving him and Stiles and his bed.
The dreams had only gotten worse over time. Probably because Derek had started paying a lot more attention to Stiles, thereby realizing a lot of things. Like how he’d really like to kiss the younger man’s lips, maybe even see them wrapped around his cock. Or what would his long fingers feel like inside of him, stroking up his sides, cupping his jaw. And don’t even get him started on Stiles’ hair.
For some insane reason, his brain decided to remind him of all these fantasies as he caught sight of Stiles ambling out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his waist. Derek wasn’t sure what made him loose his grip on the mug but the end result was the same. It cracked on the wooden floor, spilling hot coffee all over his shoes and the rug.
Cursing under his breath, Derek was relieved that he had the mess to focus on rather than how Stiles was naked under the towel (would his brain please kindly shut up?). He kept his eyes locked on the broken porcelain, picking the pieces up carelessly before tossing them into the broken mug.
So intent was he on his task that he missed Stiles comes to kneel in front of him, towel just barely covering everything. Derek’s eyes went from Stiles’ ankles right up to his face (he had some control), which was sporting a far too smug grin. The little head tilt that Stiles gave him made Derek want to run away as fast as he could because he suddenly felt very much like prey. “Sooo….” Stiles began, grinning evilly as he rested his chin in his palm. “Smelled any pizza’s just then?”
Derek glared, ignoring the flash of heat that rose up his face. He should have figured that Boyd would have spilled the beans. Could he trust no one in his pack? “Shut up.” He grumbled, ducking his gaze down to the spilled coffee. Dammit that was going to stain wasn’t it. “I wasn’t expecting it back then.” Or now. Or ever.
Stiles snickered into his palm, a happy gleam in his eyes. “There’s a tissue box in my room. If you want to clean that up.” Derek remained kneeling on the floor, feeling dumbstruck all over again as Stiles began to walk away. His eyes were busy following a few drops of water rolling down Stiles’ back when something white and wet smacked into his face. “Or you could use that towel.” Stiles offered cheekily, darting into his room before closing the door.
I’m screaming! You don’t even understand. I’ve always wanted someone to add fic to one of my edits! I can’t even right now