The first time Derek kisses Stiles, it’s to shut him up. Stiles
is loud, in his face, and this close to full moon, it’s
unendurable.
Instinct takes over, but it’s his mouth, not his fist, that
collides with Stiles’ lips, crushing them until they yield
silence, and soften.
He can feel unsaid words push those lips into shapes his mouth
twists back into a kiss, can hear the stutter-thud of a
heartbeat, but what matters is the silence.
Stiles leaves running, eyes shocked wide, mouth slicked wet, but
he was hard before the kiss ended.
He’d better come back quietly.