Work Text:
Spring break is hotter than normal, and Derek would scowl at global warming except it's given him the perfect excuse to try a new treat for himself and Stiles. His son's on vacation and Derek can't help but be ecstatic to have him back home all day - their playtime had been a lot less frequent when school had started back up after Christmas break. It's been frustrating for both of them, Stiles acting out more and more and ending up with every not-fun punishment Derek can figure out - which means he and Roscoe have also been punished. But Stiles has been good for the week leading up to his break and Derek's taken it as a sign that his boy deserves a reward (and if it means good things for him and the dog too, well, he's not going to complain).
Stiles is currently upstairs sleeping in, but that works just fine for Derek. He's got a surprise to prepare after all. It's easy to coax Roscoe into the kitchen and position him over the bucket, encouraging the dog to have his morning piss in it. After that he gives the dog a treat, getting him to stay where he's at, re-positioning the bucket as he slides down to his knees behind Roscoe. They've done this enough that Roscoe lifts his tail out of the way on his own, and Derek licks his lips before diving in, swirling his tongue over the furry pucker before wriggling it inside, alternating between fucking it in and out and licking broad stripes from the dog's full nutsac over his hole. He reaches around and jacks Roscoe's slender doggy cock with one hand, the other wrapped around the base where his knot will form, massaging it. It only takes a few minutes before the knot is popping and Derek makes sure to angle Roscoe's cock downward so his watery come gets added to the piss in the bucket, letting go when it trails off to a trickle. He licks his hand clean before standing and moving the bucket to a kitchen share, adding his own piss and come to the mix as quickly as he can.
The new popsicle molds are drying on the counter and Derek picks up a funnel, carefully filling them with the contents from the bucket, snapping the lid on and sliding in the rounded rubber dowels he bought to serve as sticks through the holes in the lid top. He takes them out to the deep freezer in the garage and hopes they work out as planned.
***
Stiles is a little disappointed when he wakes to find out that his daddy already took care of both his own and Roscoe's morning needs, but he seems a little mollified when Derek props him up on the kitchen counter and swallows his cocklet down, pressing on Stiles’ belly until his own little bladder empties. They have breakfast and watch TV, Stiles getting another treat when Derek brings out one of the lip glosses.
“Want daddy to paint your hole pretty and make out with it baby?”
“Mm'hm please daddy!” Stiles can barely sit still long enough for Derek to swirl the gloss around, pushing it in a few times. He's found some better brands since the one they'd first used at Christmas, ones that don't end up as sticky, that taste a little better (although he still much prefers the taste of his son without interference). When he's done, Stiles carefully clambers off the back of the sofa, waiting until his daddy is laying down before climbing up onto his face. Derek starts out slow, soft pecks to his son's crack, little flickers of his tongue poking between his lips and sliding over the boy's pucker, but it deepens and dirties quickly, his tongue catching in the tiny grooves of skin, pushing past the ringed muscle.
Derek stays under Stiles until his lips and tongue are numb and thick in his mouth, his boy grinding down and flexing his hole at each thrust. It only takes Derek a few seconds of playing with the tip of Stiles’ little cocklet to get him to spit out that thin boy come, making a mess of the floor next to the sofa. Derek doesn't worry about cleaning it up. Instead he just lifts Stiles off of him, digging in the drawer of the coffee table for one of their small plugs and a tube of lube. He lifts Stiles and resettles him so that the boy is straddling his lap, his son wasting no time at all on licking his daddy's face, tasting the gloss and his own hole on his daddy's tongue. Derek slicks up his own fingers, plays with Stiles’ pucker, teasingly pushing the tip of his pinky in before letting it pop out, loving how relaxed and loose the tiny hole is from all of the time he spent making out with it.
When he thinks his boy is ready, Derek breaks away from his clumsy kisses and whistles for Roscoe, who comes bounding in eagerly. Derek spreads Stiles’ cheeks a little further apart, laughing when his son giggles at Roscoe's cold nose touching his hole before his boy moans as the dog swipes it over him. Derek spreads his own legs when Roscoe snuffles at him too, enjoying the feel of that rough, hot tongue licking over his balls and his leaking cock before digging back inside of Stiles’ ass.
“Okay baby, I think you're ready for Roscoe. You want his doggy cock baby?” Stiles nods and Derek helps him slide to the floor between his own spread thighs, helps him tilt his bottom until Roscoe can shift and mount, holding the dog back so he doesn't have a choice but push in slowly, feeling the dog's cock slide between his fingers as he makes sure that his boy isn't hurt. Roscoe will take longer, having come once today already, so Derek shifts until he's comfortable, ass hanging off the sofa right in front of his son. He doesn't even need to ask before Stiles is pulling at his meaty cheeks, whining as he tries to push his face between them.
“Shhh, daddy's got you.” Derek shifts further down, his feet bracing on the coffee table as he spreads his legs wide, pulling his cheeks apart to make it easier for Stiles to get at him. Stiles’ little, soft tongue feels good, but there's definitely not enough stimulation to get Derek off, which is just fine with him. Instead, he enjoys the disjointed thrusts of his son's tongue, the way his face pushes at Derek's ass each time Roscoe thrusts inward. He keeps an eye on the dog's hips, watching for the change that will indicate the knot is starting to form - Stiles is still too small to take it. It takes longer than Derek expected, even knowing Roscoe knotted his hand this morning, but he shifts as soon as he can tell it's coming, slipping a hand over Stiles’ butt, fingers spread only enough to let the cock push in and out, but to stop the quickly inflating knot from going in. Just like this morning, he wraps his other hand around Roscoe's base and squeezes, giving the dog the illusion that he's tied to the boy, feeling the knot pulse as the dog spills inside his son.
As soon as Roscoe begins to turn, Derek releases him, pushing a finger into Stiles’ hole to keep most of the mess inside as he lifts his son, plopping him onto the sofa and encouraging the boy to get on his knees, butt in the air. He kneels up behind him, pushing his finger in and out, wishing he could replace it with his cock but knowing his son is still too small. It's okay though, they can do this in the meantime. He jacks his own cock quickly, already close to the edge, and when he can feel his balls tightening, he shifts forward sliding his finger free and pushing just the very tip of his cock into Stiles’ slightly stretched hole, making sure his slit is all the way inside before stripping his cock a few more times, muscles tensing as he finally comes, filling his boy up. Derek reaches a hand down, fumbling for the small plug, carefully working it into his son after moving his cock out of the way. When it's in all the way, he taps the base, smiling at the little moan his boy lets out.
“M'full daddy.”
“I know baby. Does it feel good?”
“Yeah.” Stiles’ head nods against the sofa's cushions, and Derek isn't surprised when the boy brings a hand up to rub at his eyes. He knows how tiring playtime is and so he leans down to give a few quick licks over Stiles’ hole, cleaning up the mess that slipped out when the plug went in before helping his son stretch out on the sofa, covering him with a blanket for a nap. He checks on the surprise in the outside freezer while Stiles rests, happy with how they're turning out. After, he makes them some sandwiches and snacks for a picnic, has a shower and changes, gets some work done and then wakes Stiles, helping him have a quick bath of his own, keeping the plug in, before insisting the boy get dressed. Stiles resists until Derek tells him they're going out for a picnic.
While Stiles makes himself presentable, Derek packs up a cooler with their snacks and bottled water before getting a small container and putting two of the now-frozen popsicles in, making sure to pack ice around them so they don't melt too soon. He grabs a blanket and hooks up Roscoe's leash and by the time he's ready, Stiles has made it downstairs and is tightening the velcro on his sneakers. The walk to the park is warm, but doesn't take long, and Derek picks a spot that's mostly shady and off in a corner. They let Roscoe off to run around and mark the trees while Derek unpacks everything, watching Stiles shift and shimmy until he finds a comfortable way to sit with the plug pushing inside him. He wills himself not to get hard and focuses instead on eating his sandwich and chips, Stiles doing the same in between babbling at Derek about how fun his spring break has been so far and laughing at the other kids and dogs running around the park. When they're finished, Derek digs around in the cooler again, pulling the box out and popping the lid.
“You've been so good for the last few days that me and Roscoe made some special treats this morning, wanna try one?” Stiles nods eagerly when he sees the popsicles and takes the one Derek offers, eyes going wide and a grin splitting his face when he licks up the side of it, catching a drip. It's clear he recognizes the taste. Derek doesn't spend long watching his son suck on the piss and come popsicle, instead pulling out the other one and setting his own mouth to work, having to bite back a moan. He can feel his cock twitch and thinks maybe this wasn't such a great idea after all, at least bringing them along for the picnic anyhow. But Stiles looks so happy to be outside, laughing when Roscoe comes trotting up and gets his own lick of Stiles’ popsicle, then licking over the boy's face.
Derek glances out into the park but nobody seems to be paying them any attention, which is good because Stiles doesn't have any qualms at all about letting Roscoe push his tongue inside of his mouth, chasing the flavors but also used to being allowed to kiss Stiles whenever he likes. Derek's attention is divided between watching his son play and making sure nobody else in the park catches on. It's why he's startled when he feels a shock of cold-wet creeping down the back of his shorts, drips sliding down his crack.
“Stiles...we've talked about this baby.” Derek tries for stern when he turns to his son. Stiles’ cheeks have a faint flush on them, eyes wide as he slowly draws his melting popsicle back towards himself.
“Sorry daddy, wanted to play. Like we play with my lollies.”
“It's okay son, but we can't play out here.” Stiles pouts and Derek knows he shouldn't give in, but he's hot and he knows exactly what his son means by play. He leans over to whisper, “I made more popsicles. Finish this one and then we can go home and play, okay?” Stiles nods eagerly, giving up on slowly sucking the melting pop down and instead biting off little chunks, chewing them quickly, face twisting up a little when he gets brain freeze. Derek finishes his own off, putting the little rubber stick in his pocket, taking Stiles’ when he finishes too, and then packing them up quickly. Derek smiles when Stiles fits his little hand inside of his, giving it a squeeze, mind already running ahead of them to what they'll be doing when they get home.