Written for this prompt
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They're in the middle of a crowded party when Derek shoves him up against the wall. Stiles gets an mouthful of hairy mask before Derek literally rips his own mask off of his face. The tattered shreds are still clinging to his claws when Derek fists his hands in Stiles' black t-shirt.
"I'm going to fuck you through this wall." Derek growls and Scott makes a strangled noise and bangs his knee on the coffee table trying to escape from the living room.
"What-no-wait, Scott! Scott, get back here!" Stiles calls and Derek shoves him even harder against the wall.
"I want to spread you open and lick your sweat." Derek says in the same throaty voice.
"Oh my God." Stiles says helplessly and Derek yanks the cat-ears headband off Stiles' head and flings it behind him. Someone yelps when it hits them.
"You're mine." Derek breathes and jams his hand down Stiles' black jeggings.
"We are in public." Stiles' hisses and yanks on Derek's wrist, then, "Are you seriously dressed like a werewolf?"
"Stop talking." Derek grunts and begins sucking viciously on the sensitive skin over Stiles' jugular. Stiles makes a high pitched sound and Derek reaches down with both hands and yanks him up by the legs up so that the only thing keeping Stiles from falling is Derek's hands on his ass and Stiles' arms around Derek's neck.
"I'm sorry." Stiles chokes to the party goers who are staring at them in shock, "Sorry."
Derek bites into the tender skin of Stiles' neck and begins rolling his hips, and Stiles gasps wetly and threads his fingers through Derek's hair.
“Oh God, don’t take pictures!” Stiles says shrilly and Jackson guiltily lowers his cell phone.
Derek digs his nails in a little and begins rocking and rubbing their cock’s together in earnest, and Stiles moans and his head falls back against the wall with a thud.
Stiles has a fleeting moment to be pleased that most people are to drunk to remember this, and then Derek is shifting his hands and sliding one finger into Stiles’ open, gasping mouth. Stiles’ sucks automatically and Derek growls in pleasure and bites and sucks harder at the spot he’s been working on.
Stiles comes in his pants like a little bitch and Derek makes a deep satisified noise and let’s him fall shakily to his feet.
“What-uh-what time is it?” Stiles says foggily and Derek laps softly at the tender spot he’d made.
Stiles reaches up behind his head and looks at his watch, it reads 11:34.
“Shit, I gotta go.” Stiles says, “Me and Scott need to be home by midnight. I’ll see you tomorrow though, okay?” Stiles pecks him on the lips and then goes to find Scott. Derek watches him go with blue-infused eyes.
***
“Stilinski.” Derek calls softly from beside the bleachers and Stiles walks over slowly. Once he’s within reaching distance, Derek tugs his helmet off and noses against the purple bruise on his neck.
“Hey, now.” Stiles says gently and Derek ignores him and kisses the suck-mark with dry lips. “My dad freaked when he saw it. I had to tell him that Scott sat on me and held a vacuum hose to my neck.”
Derek ignores him and runs his nose along the shell of Stiles’ ear and then back down to the hickey.
“Mine.” He says simply and Stiles grins and tilts his head to the side so Derek can get at it better.