Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/917874.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Teen_Wolf_(TV)
  Relationship:
      Scott_McCall/Stiles_Stilinski
  Character:
      Scott_McCall, Stiles_Stilinski
  Additional Tags:
      Wolf_Scott, Wolf_Stiles, Top_Scott, Bottom_Stiles_Stilinski, Knotting,
      Mating_Cycles/In_Heat, Werewolf_Mates, Mpreg, Teen_Pregnancy, Pregnant
      Stiles, Running_Away, Alternate_Universe_-_Foster_Family
  Series:
      Part 1 of Scott_and_Stiles_On_The_Road
  Stats:
      Published: 2013-08-08 Words: 2805
****** 1 Teen Wolf In Heat+1 Teen Wolf In Heat=1 Very Pregnant Teen Wolf ******
by kestra_troi
Summary
     In this AU both Scott and Stiles are wolves and brought into an
     abusive, foster home situation. They both go into heat at different
     times and thus begins the rest of their lives...
Notes
     So yeah this full of knotting and mpreg so...be forewarned.
Scott and Stiles were running away, running away from their abusive foster
parents. Where-to they had no real idea: somewhere out west maybe? They tried
to take with them as much stuff, clothes, supplies, and food as they could but
seeing as they were only 16 year olds, they couldn’t carry everything, even
though they’re both wolves.
Scott had been taken from his parents, his father an abusive drug dealer, his
mother a prostitute when he was very young. CPS had placed him in a dozen homes
since then. He was bounced around since no one really wanted him because: a)
he’s brown and b) he's a wolf. It was in this last house, the Smith house,
where he met Stiles.
Stiles’ parents had died in some kind of accident and since he had no living
relatives he was put into the system. He had been in a couple of homes, before
this last one, but not nearly as many as Scott. When they found each other in
this rotten hellhole they knew in an instant they would be best friends.
Their current foster parents were mean, sadistic even. After the two boys had
bonded early over being wolves and "non-adoptable" they had always joked about
running away. For years they had planned to make a get away, but before now it
had always been just a fantasy, a dream born of abuse and hope and their
brotherly bond.
So what had changed? It had started soon after Scott turned sixteen: he went
into his first heat. He grew a knot on his dick, his dick grew bigger like
overnight, and his eyes shimmered blue instead of their normal amber. It scared
the two boys. It infuriated their foster parents when Scott was unable to
control himself and “wet” the bed. Not so much wet the bed as came all over it
again and again, as he was unable to stop himself from rutting.
Stiles tried to help his brother through his ordeal after all he was the smart
one. Stiles had been able to do research at the shitty local library one
afternoon before being punished for reading and found out that the only real
solutions for being in heat was either: to endure it and hope for the best,
which wasn’t that great of a solution especially for a first heat, or to mate.
So on the third day of the heat cycle, Stiles convinced Scott to mount him.
Well not so much convinced Scott, because Scott was a rutting beast with little
to no awareness really, but Stiles presented himself to Scott on the third
night. He lubed up, tried his best to stretch himself open a little, sneaked
quietly outside into the pen where their foster parents were keeping Scott
during his heat, and got undressed for Scott.
They had both felt feelings for each other, but they had never acted on them.
It was easier for them to be friends, brothers, anything else would be too
complicated in their already messed up lives. But Scott needed help, so Stiles
decided to bite the bullet and help Scott in the only way he knew how.
That first time Scott was so out of mind and aroused he didn’t even make it to
knotting Stiles. He basically just humped Stiles between his ass cheeks. Scott
came all over Stiles’ back and ass marking him sure, but not yet claiming him.
After he shot his load on a remarkably soft Stiles Scott muttered through his
sex haze and bared fangs, "Stiles?"
"Its ok Scott…I want this…you need this…I’m your best bud, your best pal…you
need help…go ahead Scotty…give me your knot…I’m ready for it…" Or so he
thought. Neither of them had had sex before, and though they had both
masturbated separately and together, neither had really even fingered the
other. So now a full on fucking was about to occur, and did occur as Scott
couldn’t resist Stiles, who was reaching back and grabbing Scott’s dick and
almost forcing the cockhead inside himself. "Do it Scott…fuck me…please…" How
could Scott resist that especially when he was in heat?
He didn’t. He fucked Stiles rough and hard. This time he did knot Stiles and it
burned. It stretched Stiles to the limit and hurt more than he had anticipated.
But once it was in, it was in and Scott pumped a load into Stiles to beat the
band. As he shot Scott leaned over Stiles back and nipped at Stiles’ neck,
mumbling, "Stiles…" and "Mine…" over and over before finally biting down hard
on Stiles’ neck.
Stiles knew what this meant and Scott would too once he settled down from his
heat-induced, sex haze. A bite on the neck was a sign of claiming, of mating.
From now on whenever Scott went into heat he would seek Stiles out to breed
him. He’s claimed me as his mate. Stiles thought as Scott licked the mark he
made. Something about it felt right to Stiles, well… he’s already my best
friend and brother…why not let him be my mate too? At least he loves me…and
love is love…So Stiles decided to and ultimately let Scott knot him two more
times that night, before crawling out of the pen and leaving the chained up
Scott to recover before dawn.
Later that day when Scott was freed from his chain/leash he made his way to the
room he shared with Stiles to talk. But he was so embarrassed and ashamed of
his animalistic-ness that he just stood there in the middle of their room like
an idiot before going up to Stiles, grabbing him, and kissing him. Kissing him
awkwardly at first since it was both of theirs first kiss, but they kissed
passionately nonetheless. From then on the two were inseparable. Scott had to
be near Stiles. Had to be touching him, or at least in arms reach of him: their
love connection physicalized.
                                       *
Their situation changed and their lives’ drama doubled when Stiles went into
his first heat. It started a week before Stiles’ sixteenth birthday when his
body began producing a natural lubricant and giving off pheromones which sent
Scott into a breeding frenzy. They were both chained up outside like dogs as
this time Stiles had made a mess on the bed from his lubricants and then Scott
had attacked their foster dad when he had tried to punish Stiles. So they were
chained up in the backyard, forgotten, and took this opportunity to breed.
Scott bred Stiles again and again.
Neither of them were in their right mind enough to keep track of how many times
Scott knotted or got off inside Stiles or how many times Stiles got off, but
the number was undoubtedly high. It was mid-morning the next day before they
were able to pull themselves out of their sex-craze.
By that point the two were laying one on top of the other exhausted and covered
in cum and natural lube, their clothes scattered around, ruined and tattered.
Scott, on top, was still knotted in Stiles, on bottom, from the last round and
he was licking and nuzzling all the bite marks and hickies he had given his
mate over the course of the evening. Stiles for his part had taken more loads
inside himself than he could of ever thought possible. He felt full and sated
and loved in a way he never had before. He arched up for a kiss which Scott
gladly gave him, as much out of love as a result of the remnants of the heat.
"Shouldn’t be too much longer…I think…I think even my knot is tired…" Scott
said smiling against Stiles’ shoulder where he nuzzled the flesh and nipped at
it.
"Your knot is tired? My ass is exhausted! Dude! How many times did you fuck me
last night? A billion?!" He teased.
"Yeah…" Scott sighed. "A billion seems about right." He had to ask, "Was it…was
I…I mean you wanted…uh…forget it…"
"What?"
"Never mind…"
Reading Scott’s thoughts the way only Stiles ever could he answered Scott’s
half-formed questions, "Yeah it was good boo…you did good…I am drenched in cum
and by the smell of things on this side I’d say it’s mostly my own. And yes I
wanted you, ya dumbass. Who else would I want to breed me besides you? Ya stud
muffin…"
The two laughed and soon Scott was able to withdraw from Stiles and the two
tried to clean up at least a little, waiting for their foster parents to wake
up and unchain them. Now the two were even more inseparable: they had to sleep
together otherwise they could never get comfortable; they had to kiss and bite
and mark each other as often as possible otherwise they got angry and
argumentative, which did not go over well with their exasperated human foster
parents.
Following Stiles’ first heat Scott spent most of his time chained up outside in
the back for disobedience, unable to allow Stiles to be hit anymore by their
guardians. His urge and need to protect his mate overwhelming everything
including his common sense and fear of punishment. They were still Omegas after
all, unattached to any pack, so no matter how much Scott wanted to rip their
foster father and mother apart for laying a single hand on Stiles, he was still
overpowered by their foster dad. Being an Omega sucks ass!
                                       *
One day about a month and a half after Stiles’ heat, Stiles brought food out to
a chained up Scott. It was mid-afternoon, midsummer, and the heat was
sweltering. Scott hadn’t been allowed to have breakfast and wasn’t technically
allowed lunch either but the foster parents were away shopping or some such, so
Stiles whipped something up in the kitchen and brought it to Scott along with
the biggest pitcher he could find filled to the brim with cold water.
Scott took all of it willingly including a kiss and a nuzzle from his mate.
Scott devoured the food almost as intensely as he had tried to devour Stiles’
mouth. Stiles just stood their looking over his chained up mate as Scott ate,
but he eventually crouched down so he could be eye level with him.
Once Scott had wolfed down the bulk of the meal and a gallon of the cold water,
Stiles finally breached the topic that had kept him out in this ungodly heat
under the burning sun. "Scott, I think something’s wrong…with me…" Stiles said
quietly.
"Whattaya mean? What’s wrong?" Scott said panicking.
"I can’t keep anything down, especially in the mornings…I can’t sleep at
nights, but I think has more to do with you being out here away from me, but
then when I do sleep I wake up drenched in sweat…my chest hurts, like my
nipples…" Stiles blushed even thinking that word let alone using it in a
sentence, "like my nipples are sore…and smell me…"
Scott leaned in and took a whiff of his mate. He mostly smelled Stiles which
was enough to get Scott salivating, but he also smelt something else. It smells
kinda like Stiles, but kinda not… "What is that?"
"I don’t know that’s what worries me…" Stiles didn’t even want to mention this
next thing but he felt compelled to. "What if…what if…if one of your knots
took? What if…I’m…ya know…breeding…" Stiles whispered like he was ashamed.
Knocked up after my first heat…is that normal for an Omega-Carrier like me? In
the little research Stiles had been able to do, he had come to realize that he
was in fact of a different stock than Scott. Scott is an Omega-anti-Beta, an
Omega that will be a Beta once we find a pack…me I’m a breeder…an Omega-Carrier
all I do is breed…that’s what I’m meant for…I’ll always be an Omega, and I’ll
always be a breeder…Stiles counted himself lucky, he didn’t know exactly how
many male, Omega-Carriers there were in the world, but he bet it was a small
number. That made him feel unique and less like a freak who may or may not be
pregnant.
                                       *
As it turned out he was indeed very pregnant. Stiles’ body was undergoing
changes fast, faster than what they thought was normal, so the couple decided
they needed to leave their foster home soon before Stiles started showing.
Their foster parents probably wouldn’t be too pleased that their welfare-check-
wolves were breeding like rabbits. So they stole away in the dead of night and
headed west. They had to stop occasionally for Stiles to hurl or for him to
stop and pee. Already he had a small bump forming under his belly. When the two
slept on their way west, Scott always kept his arms around Stiles with his
hands placed protectively around Stiles’ bump. They slept in abandoned houses
or warehouses, they slept in parks on benches, they slept in cars or in
shelters if they could manage it.
For food they ate what they brought with them, rationed out in portions by
Stiles, but Scott often gave up a meal or two along the way to make sure Stiles
was kept healthy. Scott beamed at Stiles whenever they ate, looking at Stiles’
gradually swelling baby bump. He was proud of themselves: leaving home,
striking out on their own, becoming parents. He was sure they were gonna make
great dads when the time came.
Stiles on the other hand grew more and more quiet on the way west. As his bump
grew it got harder and harder to hide, which meant it got harder and harder to
stay in shelters and whatnot because of the stares and whispers and general
human ugliness. Stiles was tired of seeing Scott having to defend him against
bullies and assholes trying to gawk and point at the fat, pregger-boy. He was
also thinking ahead…the next big town is Beacon Hills…maybe we should try and
find a place to stay there…until after the pups are born at least…all this
moving/running away can’t be great for the babies…Cause the fatter he got the
more convinced Stiles was that he was carrying more than one baby. Good grief!
Maybe I’m gonna give birth to a whole zoo of babies?! Ugh. I will never get my
figure back…
The two agreed that they would try and make a home in Beacon Hills once they
reached the town. Or a den…as Scott was thinking of it. He was gonna try his
best to give Stiles a safe, dry place to birth and raise their young. That was
his goal in life, one of them anyways: keep Stiles fed…keep him safe…make/find
a home for us…provide for our family…Not exactly revolutionary goals, or
particularly evolved, but Scott was that kind of guy: you take care of the
people you love. And at this moment the only people Scott loves are Stiles…and
the pups that he’s carrying...
Along their way they ran out of the food they had brought with them. Scott took
to stealing what he could and hunting for the rest. His wolf appreciated the
chance to provide for his growing family that way, and Stiles was appreciative
of the fresh meat. His taste buds were changing something fierce and his
pregnancy cravings took on wilder and wilder mixes of foods. The only constant:
curly fries. Stiles had to have curly fries when he woke up or else. Managing
to get curly fries at 7 in the morning was no easy feat, one that Scott balked
at, but then proceeded to conquer. Each morning that he was able to get Stiles
his fries was another affirmation of his provider-skills. Not to mention Stiles
was always eternally grateful for the food and made no bones about not hiding
that fact. Each morning Scott provided fries, Stiles provided sex: blowjobs,
handjobs, full on intercourse if he wasn’t too nauseated. He quipped once,
"Nothing better than curly fries and cum in the morning to start the day off
right." 
Scott was happy to oblige his mate in anything and everything he wanted. He had
to, Stiles was his world. If Stiles was unhappy, nobody was happy, the world
was meaningless and evil. If Scott managed to get Stiles everything he wanted
and needed and got a little sexy-time on the side for his troubles then all was
right with the world and everything was hunky-doory. (Oh how simple it all
sounds…but the two were headed to Beacon Hills. And nothing in Beacon Hills is
ever simple.)           
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