Sterek stories

78

"Hey Tara, Dad in the office?"

"No, he went out for backup on a 916 out in Hilly Valley. Feel free to wait in his office darling."

Stiles smiled at the woman behind the desk and gave her an appreciative wave before he slipped passed. The station was void of a lot of officers, a few strung here and there but for the most part it was pretty empty. He weaved around desks before approaching his dad's office, stepping in easily.

The first thing he noticed was the greasy odor of fast food. Stiles went wide eyed and looked at the desk seeing no evidence of the contraband. With a few steps he bent over and glanced in the trash seeing a burger wrapper, lettuce, and a fountain drink inside.

"You're so dead, nothing but tofu for the next week I swear to God-"

"Stiles?" A familiar voice called out.

Instead of standing up like a normal person he just bent further over, looking through his legs upside down to see the office door. Derek stood there in his deputy uniform, looking all...badass and sexy. Seriously it's like the department didn't have a shirt big enough to fit his obscene biceps. The man paused, green-blue eyes darkening considerably in a certain way Stiles was very familiar with.

"Hey baby," Stiles smiled, knowing exactly what Derek was looking at.

The man stood up straighter, clearing his throat, "mind standing up straight?"

"I don't know, I'm pretty comfy. Plus you seem like you're enjoying the view."

Derek growled lowly, eyes flashing blue for a moment before shutting the office door, "don't. Just stand up."

"Come over here and make me," Stiles teased, shaking his ass and the next thing he knows he suddenly sitting on his father's desk with his hot boyfriend between his legs. This was a plan Stiles could totally get on board with. His hands rested on the sharp V of the man's hips, pulling them closer until their groins were flush.

"You're a menace, your father-" Derek started

"-is all the way down in Hill Valley on a 916 domestic call. Don't worry," Stiles finished, teeth nipping at Derek's earlobe.

Derek shivered, neck tilting to the side to let Stiles continue his workings. He did just that, mouthing at the stubbled skin, teeth and tongue working on bruises that vanished a second or two after he pulled back. Regardless it had Derek all but panting in his ear and holding tight. Their hips ground together, their pace near insatiable.

"Hmm, fuck," Stiles groaned, pulling back so there was a small bit of space between them. Derek's face was flushed, pupils swallowed his irises, and it's the best thing Stiles' has seen all day.

"You're wasting time," Derek growled.

"Shh, I got you," Stiles said and kissed Derek, his hands making quick work of the man's utility belt and pants. They broke apart, foreheads against each other's, as Stiles wormed his hand into Derek's pants, cupping his hard-on. Derek moaned, arching into the touch and Stiles gave him a playful squeeze.

There was his name being gasped out but he didn't register it as being a warning one rather than a sexy one. So when the door busted open and Stiles' hand was still hidden in Derek's pants...well it was quite the surprise.

Their heads swiveled to the the right, only to see the Sheriff standing there with a livid look on his face. Jeez, there was even a vein popping out of his neck.

"Whoa-hey Daddy, what's...what's hanging?" Stiles stuttered, embarrassment flooding his cheeks.

"Don't say daddy with your hand in my pants," Derek muttered.

Stiles looked at him, "not your thing?"

"Boys!"

They both looked back at the Sheriff, and just beyond him Tara and Parish were laughing profusely. Stiles moved and let Derek fix his uniform. He stood and made his way to the trash and held up the fast food items.

His father paled.

"Oh yeah. First, we didn't even get to the good part, I literally just got my hand in his pants-"

"Stiles, please shut up," Derek said, face falling into his hands.

"-anyways...listen Pops. How about we forget this ever happened and you only are forced to eat tofu forrr...two days instead of a week?" Stiles bargained.

His father deflated, shoulders sagging, "out. Both of you out, I need to wipe down my desk."