Ramblings from Apalapachia...

i take my art seriously

need fic where derek gets drunk/stoned for the first time and has an existential crisis to scott about how torn he is between wanting to bone stiles and wanting to help him with his homework and tuck him in. 

“No you don’t understand, Scott…” he’d say with the most deranged look in his eyes “I just want to pet his hair and watch him sleep.”

And scott would be a little bit alarmed like, “okay, Derek.”

“No no…but also I want him to pet my hair. While I suck his dick. I want to suck his dick.”

“Have you ever…” Derek trails off, fingering the edge of his sweater idly. His face is quiet and Scott smiles at him, encouraging him to go on. Derek barely catches it, his gaze flickering from the younger wolf’s face back to the hem of his sweater. He tries again, rushing the words out as if it’ll be less momentous to say them quickly and the severity of his situation won’t seem quite as daunting.

“Have you ever imagined Stiles giving you a blow job?”

It takes Scott a moment to wrap his head around what had mostly sounded like crowded syllables and anguish and when he does he can’t do much about the disbelieving scoff of a laugh that echoes in the back of his throat.

“Wow.” The word sounds underwhelming on the tip of his tongue. Of all the things he had ever imagined him and Derek talking about, well this certainly hadn’t been one of them.

Scott looks at Derek a little apologetically, smiles soft and earnest while he says, “I, uh, no. I haven’t. But there’s nothing wrong with it, you know, if you have. I’m sure Stiles would be kind of flattered actually-“

“It’s his stupid mouth” Derek moans, cutting Scott short before he can allow his vote of understanding and support to over compensate too heavily. “He’s always sucking on things, licking his lips. Bloody oral fixation, he’s like a softcore porn film come to life. And his hands.”

Before Scott can even think of something to offer the conversation (or a subject change) Derek’s despair comes full circle. He breathes out a heavy sigh, conceding, “but after everything with the nogitsune I just,” he pauses, shifts in his seat to turn his body towards Scott’s though he doesn’t look him in the eye. “I just wanna look after him, you know? Tuck him in, make sure he sleeps for more than a couple hours for once, maybe brush my fingers through his hair.”

Scott nods, “Sure. Pack mentality, we look after one another.” He quells the part of him that feels the instinct to flee, not wanting to discuss his best friend’s pseudo sex life with Derek, with anyone, though the line of conversation is veering into safer, more comfortable territory.

Derek folds in on himself once more, slouching down in his seat as he comments, “and then in the morning I could suck his dick and he could comb his fingers through my hair. Maybe tug a little, yeah, yeah, that’d be good. He deserves that,” and veers right on out again.

He bites his lip and Scott lays his hands over his face, wishing he could unsee the expression on Derek’s face. The expression that clearly speaks of the many filthy things he’s imagining between himself and Stiles. 

He’s never getting Derek stoned again.

"I bet he has a really nice dick, too." Derek smiles to himself and nods his head. "I could look after him, and his dick.”