Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/1647632.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Teen_Wolf_(TV)
  Relationship:
      Peter_Hale/Stiles_Stilinski
  Character:
      Peter_Hale, Stiles_Stilinski
  Additional Tags:
      Sex_Pollen, Established_Relationship, Mildly_Dubious_Consent, Humor
  Series:
      Part 10 of Games_We_Play:_Teen_Wolf_Mating_Game_Entries
  Stats:
      Published: 2014-05-17 Words: 739
****** Blue Birds ******
by ladyoneill
Summary
     Stiles gets high on sex pollen and hallucinates and gets
     inappropriate and, really, it's not like Peter has any morals...
Notes
     Written for round one of Mating Games which was along the theme of
     fairy tales. Put mildly dubious consent because Stiles is drugged,
     but, really he's the one making all the moves and they are together.
"There are cartoon bluebirds tweeting at me and flying around my head."
Peter shoots him a look. "You're still hallucinating."
"They're cute." Stiles gives him a sappy look and makes 'come here' gestures
with his hands. When his lover ignores him, remaining several feet from the bed
and annoyingly dressed, Stiles pouts, but then brightens up and points to
himself. "Now they're fluttering around my dick. Look, it's all hard and
lonely."
The blanket Peter had diligently covered him with is at his feet and, since he
insisted that his clothes itched, he's naked and squirming.
And, thanks to the aphrodisiac wolfsbane he ran into, his cock is hard.
"Cocks don't get lonely. You're drugged to the gills." Crossing his arms over
his chest, Peter just shakes his head at him.
"Nuh uh, just horny, and mine does." He sticks his tongue out, then crosses his
eyes trying to see it.
Peter's phone ring and he yanks it out of his jeans' pocket, looking at the
display before muttering, "Thank God," before barking into it, "Did you find
anything?" Deaton's answer is annoying and not to the point, mostly because
it's basically 'it'll wear off in a few hours; it won't cause any permanent
harm.' With a growl, Peter stabs the off button and tosses his phone onto the
night stand.
Stiles is still trying to look at his tongue.
"You're making me dizzy, stop that."
"Okay. How 'bout I do this instead?"
And Stiles starts sliding his cock in and out of his fist, moaning like a
harlot.
"Stiles, stop that," Peter sighs.
"Nope. The birdies like it. I like it." He glowers at Peter and arches his back
off the bed as his cock starts leaking pre-cum over his pumping fingers. The
young man is amazingly limber.
Peter's dick twitches.
"Shit..."
Sitting down on the bed next to Stiles, he knocks his hand away and replaces it
with his own. Stiles moans, pants, bucks his hips and tries to grab Peter.
"Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me," he begs.
They haven't done that yet. They're not doing it while he's under the
influence, but they have done other things and, it's not like Peter has morals
or anything.
Lowering his head, Peter sucks the tip of Stiles cock, making him shudder and
howl. As he takes him deeper, his tongue licking the shaft, tasting him, his
hand plays with Stiles' balls, squeezing them until he squeals in pleasure.
"Yes, oh fuck yes, the birdies love it."
Peter rolls his eyes, but starts to suck at a quick pace with a tight suction,
just the way Stiles likes it. By the sounds he's making and the ways he's
wriggling and twitching, he's really liking it.
"Let me fuck your mouth, oh please, Peter."
That's new.
It's also one of Peter's favorite things. Slipping off the bed to his knees, he
pulls Stiles with him until he's seated on the edge of the mattress, slick cock
right in front of Peter's face. Stiles takes hold of his head and Peter opens
his mouth wide, then relaxes his throat as Stiles drives his cock inside.
"Oh, Jesus fucking Hell God shit..."
The tip slides down his throat and Peter lets the muscles close around it.
Stiles' babbles turn to loud yells of pleasure, and Peter relaxes as the
younger man pulls back, then tightens again and again with each increasingly
erratic thrust. Stiles' fingers grip his hair and his hips bounce and Peter
loves it as he hungrily deep throats.
With another cry, Stiles comes, body shaking, dick jerking and spilling cum
onto Peter's tongue. He swallows it down, then licks his way up the shaft
before finally pulling off with a lick of Stiles' sensitive slit.
Groaning, Stiles falls back onto the bed and Peter rises on trembling legs to
rearrange him so his head is on a pillow. Before he can cover him up, Stiles
grabs his wrist and croons sleepily and sappily, "And they lived happily ever
after."
"Really, Stiles? Really?"
"Well, I did." He reaches for the bulge in Peter's jeans where he's been hard
and aching since Stiles' cock first slid down his throat.
"Still not fucking you."
"Hand job then nightie night. The birdies are tired."
"Fine," Peter huffs in fake annoyance as he lets Stiles reel him in with a
finger looped into his belt and his other hand cupping his dick.
End
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