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Derek (surlier) wrote,

"Hmmm," Derek hummed thoughtfully. Stiles had said that getting rewarded helped him -- "Maybe I shouldn't offer to cut you off. Maybe I should promise you a spanking instead, to make sure you get it done early." A spanking wasn't punishment, not for Stiles, and not with the way he reacted when he'd been bent over his bed and his cheeks reddened by Derek's hand.

Or maybe to call him daddy, given the sudden spike in his scent. Just scent though, his body too tired to do much else. "I think you'd like it if I did." Which definitely meant that he would.

He could still see the reluctance in his eyes, the slight way he held his shoulders. Derek didn't think something was wrong with Stiles, just that something might not be right. That things could be better, but not for a second did he really believe it was something that would keep them from conceiving.

"I kinda would," he said quietly. "It'd fit the schedules better if we waited. It's responsible." His chin lifted slightly, edging into Stiles' touch. "And yet--" his eyes continued to glow, and he didn't bother trying to stop them. "I want nothing more than to bring you home in eleven days, get you into bed, and knot you until your heat ends early because you're pregnant."

And if his contraception failed -- at least they tried. No one could say they hadn't, not with the both of them on it-- "Follow? No, I'd take you to school, and pick you up," and kiss him outside the car when they parted in the morning and again in the afternoon when they met again.

His hands splayed wide over his sides, but he was glad that Stiles didn't provoke that in him. No whispered provocations about it, not when his mate and their future children meant so much to him.

"I'm sure it can be taken care of over the phone, I'd feel better if we talked to him though." His head tilted slightly, and he dipped forward to scent him again. "You don't smell sad now though. Did you not feel the same after this time?"

That seemed prudent to ask. And as for bed -- "What happened to the rest of the cake? We should clean up the couch -- and you." Cause he hadn't quite finished cleaning up Stiles before he'd rolled him over and they had sex, and there was still a brown smear of icing and cake across his ribs. "Then sleep."