What the hell is a Stiles? (![[info]](https://www.insanejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} _stiles) wrote, |
He felt safe, so incredibly safe that the trembles of his orgasm continued in gentle waves, encouraged by Derek moving, by the mouth on his throat, over the mark that seemed to be directly linked to every pleasure point in his body. Stiles clung to Derek, whimpering out soft little sounds for just his mate, supplicant, submissive noises, and basking in the paired of being a good boy. He was, he was Derek’s good boy.
The comfort lulled him intoa gentle doze, still holding Derek, only protesting and waking again when it was time for them to part. Stiles was far less cautious with his noises, mewling as Derek pulled out of him, even if he was pulled close immediately, wrapped in those strong arms.
Stiles couldn’t work out what the expression on Isaac’s face was. Couldn’t work out the expression in his eyes. But Boyd and Erica were cuddling, he and Derek were cuddling-
He reached out his hand towards Isaac, beckoning him closer. It took a few moments to coax him over, a few fleeting looks of concern from Isaac to Derek before he settled next to Stiles’ hand, sighing with something akin to relief when Stiles ran his fingers gently through his curls.
“You doing okay?” Stiles asked, wondering if he should talk to Derek about maybe expanding the pack by one non-pup, to give Isaac someone to bond with properly.
Isaac nodded, his eyes closed. “I enjoyed it.”
“You did? Good. Good,” Stiles cooed. He wanted to ask if Isaac would want to watch again, but suddenly that seemed a little too personal, a little too presumptuous.
"It smells good. You look good," Isaac slurred softly, his afterglow being bumped up again by the petting. Maybe it was a bad idea to touch.
"Thank you," Stiles added, shifting back against Derek.
"Do you think you're pregnant?" Isaac asked, resting his head on the edge of the sofa.
"Maybe," Stiles replied without thinking. That was too easy. It was surprising how easy the word came to him.