Sterek Prompt Number 47 Please!
AHHH I LOVE THIS!!!! Here is #47: “I thought it was a one-night stand…but now we’re married…”
Stiles woke up with a headache and a small groan, eyes adjusting to the sunlight coming from the wall of windows he was facing. It was weird…his and Scotty’s motel room didn’t have a wall of windows let alone a killer view of the Vegas strip.
Oh God this wasn’t the motel.
Stiles suddenly was hyper aware of the body pressed against his back and the arm hooked around his bare chest. He swallowed so hard it hurt as he glanced down to see the sheet barely covering their undoubtedly bare lower halves. Then his eyes caught sight of the body behind him and holy shit he was ninety nine point two percent sure he was sleeping with a GQ model.
He turned his head back to the windows trying to think of a way out of this, except then there was movement and stubble ran across the nape of his neck and there was a hard cock pressed against his ass–
With that he slithered ungracefully out of the man’s grip until he rolled off the bed and took half the sheets with him. There was a groan from the bed when he fell to the floor with a thud, and somehow he managed to hit his funny bone.
“Ow, fuck,” Stiles whined, sitting up to see the GQ model awake and naked in all his very sexy glory. Man for a one night stand he really got lucky, but terribly so he can’t remember a fucking thing.
No more alcohol. Ever.
“Um, hi,” the guy said, face pinched up.
Stiles felt like drooling because man those eyebrows could murder someone, but those green-blue eyes were to die for. Jesus those cheekbones couldn’t be real either, they looked so sharp and angular. This guy is photoshopped for sure.
“Well I’m pretty sad I can’t remember what I would assume to be awesome sex, but this was nice, gotta go,” Stiles blurted out and stood up, wrapping the sheet around his lower half just now noticing the marks all across his torso.
Oh the sex must’ve been amazing.
“No seriously man I gotta go, my best friend is probably worried sick,” Stiles pressed, grabbing his boxers.
“Look dude I don’t know–”
“We have rings on our fingers!” The model blurted out and Stiles paused looking at his hands only to see his ring finger with a gold band on it. His vision spiraled a bit as he stood up on shaky legs. He twisted the band on his finger, slipping it off to look at the rather expensive piece of jewelry. On the inside of the band he read a tiny engraving “drunk married is the best married”.
“I thought it was a one-night stand…but now we’re married…,” he trailed off looking to the other man, stark naked and honestly still looking hotter than the sun. From his toned body to his bunny like teeth that poked from his slightly parted lips.
“I’m Derek,” the guy -Derek- said suddenly.
“Stiles–and yes, it’s a nickname,” he answered, moving to sit on the edge of the bed, still wrapped in the sheet. The silence lingered, sitting between them and festering until Derek pulled off his own ring and looked inside it.
“It’s says “his name his Mieczyslaw”…I think I remember you told me last night when we bought the rings,” Derek said and Stiles paled with a low groan, shoving his face in his hands. He doesn’t know where Scott is, he’s slept with the world’s hottest man alive, and he’s married to said man who knows his atrocity of a first name.
Great. Fucking great.
“I don’t think this is how a honeymoon is supposed to go.”
“What? I heard they were much better than this– I mean most people know their husbands.”
Derek was quiet for a long time after that before finally saying, “…my favorite color is green.”
Stiles couldn’t help the smile that crossed his face.
So two years later at their real wedding the color theme was white and green, both of them wearing the same rings that started this beautiful perfect mess.
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