"Just come, Stiles," Derek replied, his voice soft, reassuring. He jacked the boy's arousal quickly, grip like a vise, knowing it wouldn't take long, that the boy was close. "Let go. Trust me. And come."
He was already looking forward to the aftermath, trying to think through to the aftercare. There was a shower down here, maybe. Or at least a sink. They would both need a bath, though, and preferably a bed. His room was just a short sprint away--perhaps he could make it there before anyone saw them.