Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/3115790.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Teen_Wolf_(TV)
  Relationship:
      Derek_Hale/Stiles_Stilinski
  Character:
      Stiles_Stilinski, Derek_Hale
  Additional Tags:
      Alternate_Universe_-_Student/Teacher
  Stats:
      Published: 2015-01-04 Completed: 2015-03-29 Chapters: 3/3 Words: 7477
****** Dr. Hale ******
by cooljacket
Summary
     A handsome sex ed. teacher substitutes for Stiles' biology class, but
     a risky decision puts his job at the mercy of his least favorite
     student. Can Stiles extort enough extra credit from him to pass the
     semester before the week is up? Or will Dr. Hale's rugged good looks
     literally blind him before that happens?
Notes
See the end of the work for notes
***** Comeuppance *****
The tiny, white-haired woman who taught Stiles’ biology class had been replaced
by a bearded man no one had seen before. When the school bell chimed, he
gruffly announced, “Good morning. I’m your substitute for today, Dr. Hale. In
accordance with new state laws, I am visiting various science classes
throughout the school to educate you all about contraception.”
Stiles couldn’t give two shits about contraception, but he attended closely to
how the shoulders of Dr. Hale’s shirt stretched when he etched the acronym
“STD” onto the blackboard in big, sharp letters.
“You,” said Dr. Hale, nodding to Stiles in the front row. “Do you know what an
STD is?”
Stiles gulped. “A studly… tan… doctor?” he answered, making a few of his
classmates burst into laughter. Even Dr. Hale suppressed a grin before shaking
his head guiltily.
“An interesting interpretation, but as I’m sure most of you know, an STD is a
sexually transmitted disease. If it’s OK, I’d like to skip over common
knowledge as your school has allotted me just this hour to speak with you.
Now...” He gave the quickest lecture possible about transmission and basic
symptoms for the kids who really didn’t know, and Stiles watched as the
handsome doctor wrote words like “chlamydia” and “syphilis” on the blackboard.
When he wrapped up, his smart, green eyes quickly found Stiles again.
“You. Studly tan doctor kid. What was your name?”
“Uh, Stiles,” he coughed.
“Uhstiles,” echoed Dr. Hale. “You’re going to be my designated teaching
assistant today. And don’t worry, your duties don’t include defining acronyms.”
A cardboard box sat in the burgundy swivel chair behind the desk. From it, Dr.
Hale produced a banana bunch and a Tupperware tub full of condoms. “I need you
distribute these. There won’t be enough for everyone, so just try to make sure
every other person gets one. And those of you without one will look on with
your neighbors.”
Snickers came from the class. Stiles defiantly rose to take the bananas and the
condoms and doled them out with his chin up.
“Bet this is the first time you’ve touched one of these,” sneered Jackson.
“I could say the same for you, dickhead,” hissed Stiles, flinging a condom
package at Jackson’s forehead.
He saved a banana and condom for himself, then returned the empty plastic tub
to the front desk. That was when Dr. Hale realized his oversight: he had
nothing left to demonstrate with.
“TA Stiles,” he said, scratching his head. “You seemed to have forgotten to
give materials to the most important person in the room. But that’s OK. We’ll
just use your banana for the demonstration.”
More snickers. Geez, would the embarrassment never end? Stiles handed off his
banana and condom package to Dr. Hale, surprised when he was stopped from
returning to his seat.
“Wait. You’re going to help me with the demonstration,” said Dr. Hale.
“What? That wasn’t part of the deal!” argued Stiles.
“It’s part of the job description. You’re my teaching assistant, and anyway
you’ll learn more from doing than from watching.”
“But it’s not like I’m a real teaching assistant.”
“Not with that attitude,” agreed Dr. Hale.
Defeated, Stiles took his place beside the doctor. “It’ll be fine,” Dr. Hale
encouraged. “It’s just a condom. Nothing to be afraid of. And if you start to
mess up I’ll coach you.”
“S’not messing up I’m worried about. I just don’t wanna have to do this in
front of the class,” said Stiles.
“There’s a lot to be gleaned from putting on a condom in front of a bunch of
people. Like I said, you’ll learn more from doing.”
Honestly, what skills could be learned from putting on a condom in front of a
crowd that were useful outside of orgies? Not to mention Stiles found it
difficult enough to get one sexual partner, let alone a few. He was officially
seething now.
“Remember: the only way to prevent STDs is through using protection and
avoiding risky activities. And abstinence, but I’m not teaching that because
I’m sure you all would rather put condoms on fruit. Now—“
A loud snap came from the back row of desks as a frizzy-haired girl impaled her
condom on the tab of her banana. “Uh, my condom broke,” she whimpered, making
those around her explode with laughter.
Dr. Hale just smiled sympathetically and tossed her the one he was holding.
“Here, Stiles is giving you his. And while I appreciate your enthusiasm, please
wait for me to finish talking before you start.”
But now that he had given his last condom away, he was once again strapped for
materials. He checked the cardboard box for any spares that might have escaped
the plastic tub, but there was nothing there, so in a flash of resourcefulness
and frustration, he did the unthinkable. Pretending to search the box, he
surreptitiously removed the condom he carried in his wallet.
“Perfect. Now we can get the demonstration started,” he exclaimed. This new
condom’s flashy, gold packaging was starkly different from the ones the
students had, but he was sure none of them would be meticulous enough to
notice.
Except Stiles did. “What’s this?” he asked.
“It’s the condom you’ll use to demonstrate for—“
“No, I mean why is this one different.” He squinted at letters emblazoned on
the packaging. “Extra-large? How’s this gonna fit on the banana?”
“It will fit fine,” he toned sternly. “Which brings up an important point:
condoms come in different sizes…”
As Dr. Hale sermonized another bullshit lecture, Stiles realized the condom
he’d been given had come from a different place than the plain, blue ones his
classmates had. And on such short notice, that place could have been nowhere
but Dr. Hale himself. Heat spilled into his cheeks when he grasped that, if not
for this demonstration, Dr. Hale might have worn this condom. And it was extra-
large.
“… TA Stiles? Are you OK?” asked Dr. Hale, finishing his lecture.
“I—“ He stopped short. Seeing everyone’s eyes on him, he knew he couldn’t
expose the secret right now. Dr. Hale would undoubtedly be fired for exposing
kids to his personal stash of rubbers, and Stiles would become a laughingstock
by association. More of a laughingstock, at least. “Yeah. I’m cool. Cool as a
cucumber, which is another food you can put condoms on. Anyway…”
Hands trembling, he tore into the package and removed its contents: a slick,
plastic ring. Dr. Hale held the banana steady as Stiles slipped the ring onto
the banana’s tip and began rolling it down.
“Watch closely, everyone,” instructed Dr. Hale. “This is the correct way to put
on a condom. When you think you have the gist of it, try it yourself and show
me the results. We’re nearly out of time.”
Correct way? A great deal of excess rubber cleaved to the base, just above Dr.
Hale’s hairy knuckles, and the head was floppy with free space. But Stiles had
gotten the concept of pinching the tip and rolling down the rest right, at
least.
One by one, his classmates lifted their own condom-covered bananas into the air
for Dr. Hale to judge. Then the school bell chimed a second time, signaling the
end of class. Everyone packed up and filed out, discarding their bananas into
the bin on the way out.
“If any of you found this lesson too short—which you definitely should
have—visit me in the nurse’s station. I will be there all week to answer any
sex- or contraceptive-related questions you have,” bellowed Dr. Hale. “It
should be entirely irrelevant, but visiting me will also earn you extra credit
for the class I substituted for. And more visits mean more extra credit.”
Stiles made sure to linger behind his classmates, and when the room was empty
of everyone but Dr. Hale and himself, he admitted, “That was kind of shitty
what you did. Making me do that in front of the class.”
Dr. Hale shrugged, the shoulder panels of his shirt groaning. “You’re right, it
was pretty shitty.”
“So I guess you don’t believe in comeuppance? Things coming back around to bite
you in the ass?”
Dr. Hale sized Stiles up, which honestly made Stiles shiver. “Actually I do
believe in that,” he clarified. “I believe that what you did—standing up in
front of the class even though you were afraid to—will pay off someday. And
when it does, I think that fulfills my job as a mentor.”
“But you’re not a mentor,” Stiles retorted. “You’re like a doctor or somethin’,
so why are you teaching a class?”
“Because no one currently working at this school was qualified to teach sex
education,” he answered, collecting his cardboard box with the plastic tub
inside. “If my presence bothers you, don’t worry. I only borrowed your class
for the day, and I’m only in the school until the end of this week. However, I
have a feeling I won’t be seeing you in my office.”
“Don’t be so sure,” Stiles corrected.
Dr. Hale raised his bushy eyebrows over his glasses. “Oh?”
“I might have a few questions.” He shrugged. “After all, the lesson today left
me a little… confused.”
“Confused,” Dr. Hale echoed. Could Stiles mean…? No. It was an
inconsequentially small detail. And now all the evidence was in the bin,
beneath a heap of bananas. “Well,” he continued, “then I look forward to
clearing up anything that wasn’t clear.”
“Me, too, doc,” he quipped. “Be seeing you.” Then he hurried to his next class
as the school bell chimed a third time.
***** Virginus erectus *****
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes
The next day Stiles skipped biology to visit the nurse’s office, because if
anything would save his grade, it was a tall doctor with a beard. Not studying.
Dr. Hale was relaxed into a leather swivel chair with the top buttons of his
shirt unfastened and his hair pushed lazily back. Scared that he had walked in
at a bad time, Stiles was about to leave when Dr. Hale acknowledged him.
“If it isn’t the last person I expected to see here,” he remarked.
Last person? “Yeah, right. I told you yesterday that I would be coming,”
retorted Stiles. “Although you probably had your stethoscope screwed on too
tight to hear me.”
Dr. Hale shrugged. “Forgive me for doubting you, but a lot of students said
they had questions for me, but so far the only question I’ve answered is if I
can write prescriptions.” He shook his head. “I can’t. Get your Ritalin
somewhere else.”
“Thanks, but I’m already covered on concentration meds,” Stiles countered. “I
was actually here to talk to you, if you can believe that.”
“And here I was beginning to think your school was paying me just to keep this
chair warm. Have a seat.”
As Dr. Hale got up to shut the door, he motioned for Stiles to sit and
explained that everything said would be confidential. But this didn’t make
Stiles feel any safer about now being shut into a room with a handsome doctor,
about to discuss sex.
“So.” Rather than returning to his leather chair, Dr. Hale rested his weight on
the front of the desk, arms crossed. “What can I clarify for you?”
Stiles spat out the first sex-related topic that came to mind: “Circumcision.”
“Circumcision,” echoed Dr. Hale, nodding thoughtfully. “A good subject, but I’m
afraid my lecture on foreskin is long enough to fill a class period, and I
don’t want to keep you. So try to be a little more specific.”
Considering he already knew the history of circumcision from writing that
economics essay, Stiles was a little relieved to have dodged an hour-long
review. But this also made it hard to ask questions like he didn’t know the
answers, and with Dr. Hale’s piercing eyes on him, he fumbled.
“Well, specifically, I was curious how you would say that the advent
circumcision has, uh, impacted the community… and your life, as a whole.”
Complete train wreck.
“You’re wondering how circumcision has changed the community and my life?” Dr.
Hale clarified, head visibly swimming. He had to clean his glasses after that
doozy of a question. “Well, many historians believe that circumcision started
out as way to mark captured enemy slaves. The practice then became a rite of
passage in certain religions, and today it’s mostly used as a way to stymie
infections. Personally, I think it’s as much of a torture method as it was from
the beginning, since good personal hygiene is just as effective as amputating
that piece of skin. And how has it affected my life?” He chuckled. “If you
couldn’t guess from the way I’m talking, circumcision fortunately hasn’t
affected me at all, other than having to learn all those facts for my classes.”
Stiles turned red. Circumcision hadn’t affected Dr. Hale’s life? It was a
breadcrumb, just like the condom in the class presentation was, just like the
awkward bunching of fabric in Dr. Hales’ trousers (which wasn’t actually a
bunching of fabric) was. And all of them were laying down a path to what Dr.
Hale’s cock might actually look like, and Stiles couldn’t take it anymore.
“It’s just a personal opinion,” Dr. Hale continued, obviously trying to cover
his tracks if he had unwittingly insulted Stiles. “People who are circumcised
are really no different from—“
“You’re doing this on purpose, aren’t you?!” piped Stiles. “Admit it. Ever
since you singled me out as your teaching assistant on day one, you’ve been
trying to embarrass me as much as possible.”
Dr. Hale lifted a fuzzy eyebrow. “Again. You’re going to have to be more
specific.”
“I’m talking about this.” He revealed the golden condom wrapper that had been
crumpled up in his pocket. “Look familiar? It’s yours. You were trying to use
it to embarrass me during the presentation.”
Dr. Hale puzzled his hand on his beard, trying to hide his alarm. “Why did you
keep that?”
“To rub it in your face.” He decided that literally rubbing the wrapper in Dr.
Hale’s face would not be a good idea, so he continued, “I don’t think the
principal would respond very well to hearing that you handed out one of your
own, possibly-used rubbers to a student.”
“Possibly-used?” Dr. Hale scoffed. “You opened the package yourself!”
“The principal doesn’t know that,” Stiles countered. “I can give him a very
convincing anecdote about how I thought yogurt was part of the lesson. Now.
Unless you want this getting to your higher-ups, you’re going to give me some
of that extra credit you were advertising yesterday.”
Dr. Hale barked a laugh. “I remember saying that you got extra credit just by
visiting me. Blackmailing me is completely uncalled for.”
“Yeah, but this way I can visit you even when I don’t have questions to ask,”
reasoned Stiles.
“Couldn’t you just make up questions, then? That sounds easier and much less
sinister.”
He had nearly blacked out when Dr. Hale dropped the Uncircumcised Bomb, so no.
He couldn’t. “I’m a bad conversationalist,” he answered.
Dr. Hale hummed. Supported his hands behind himself on the desk, looked at the
floor, appearing to think this over. But then he reached out suddenly to snatch
the wrapper from Stiles’ hand. He was very quick, but not quick enough as
Stiles’ hand shut into a fist.
“Fine,” he growled. “The amount of extra credit I can give won’t nearly boost
your grade from a C to an A, but if you think you need it that badly, I’ll give
it to you for doing nothing. Just keep that wrapper to yourself.” He picked up
the cardboard box behind his desk and ushered Stiles from the room in a way
that seemed like he was kicking him out, but then he locked the door behind
them both. “I have a class to teach now. You’ll have to cash in your extortion
methods later.”
“That’s fine,” responded Stiles. “I’ve got all day.”
Well, not really. When Dr. Hale strode off toward his class, Stiles turned on a
heel to race to economics. Unfortunately he couldn’t squeeze Coach Finstock for
extra credit like Dr. Hale, so he had to pay attention here. But when the
school bell released him into his free period, he returned to the nurse’s
office where all he needed was to flash some gold packaging, and found that Dr.
Hale had already beaten him there.
He was dabbing a stain on his shirt with a wet rag, looking dismal. “You
again,” he grumbled. “As if this day couldn’t get worse. Don’t you have another
teacher to terrorize right now?”
Stiles shook his head. “Free period. What’s that on your shirt?”
“A reason not to teach the freshmen about lubricant,” he answered. “They think
squeezing the sachets until they pop is an appropriate way to open them.”
“Isn’t it?” Stiles quipped, getting a death glare from Dr. Hale in return. “It
looks like you’re just spreading it around. My dad’s gotten enough grease
stains on his shirts for me to know a water-repellant when I see one.”
“Well, it’s silicone-based,” responded Dr. Hale. “Repelling water is kind of
the point.”
“Then why are you using a rag?” Stiles huffed. “Here.” He picked the rag from
Dr. Hale’s hand and asked, “Got any chalk? Or baby powder? You need to dry up
the stain before you try to wash it.”
“I have condoms and more lube,” answered Dr. Hale. “But I’m afraid to give you
either since you might try to blackmail me.”
Stiles snorted. “C’mon. That was like one time.”
“And it’s still happening,” retorted Dr. Hale. He stepped back, though there
wasn’t much room to spare behind his desk, and produced a gym bag from
underneath the desk. “I’ll just change since I’m not teaching anymore classes
today. Wash the thing when I get home.” He unbuttoned the shirt halfway, enough
to show that his beard connected to some thick chest hair. “Turn around,” he
toned. “You’re already holding enough over my head without an added striptease.
And no looking at the reflections in my degrees.”
Stiles gulped and did as he was told. He heard the shirt rustle off, and Dr.
Hale rummaging through the gym bag for a new one when he suddenly stopped.
“Goddamn it. It soaked through,” he groaned. He must have picked up the wet rag
because Stiles heard something scraping Dr. Hale’s skin. “This is ridiculous. I
look like the main course of a Thanksgiving dinner.”
The need to see Dr. Hale’s oily torso ached in Stiles’ bones. But Dr. Hale must
have sensed this because he reminded him not to turn around.
“All right. You’re free to use all 360° of your motion again,” said Dr. Hale.
Stiles turned around to see Dr. Hale in a shirt of interwoven panels of
breathable fabric. Tight, sleeveless. Something hardcore gym-goers wore. And
Stiles noticed that the gym bag was stuffed of similar things, like heart rate
monitors and jockstraps and knee braces. Just looking at them made Stiles feel
lazy, so he slumped down into the chair in front of the desk.
“Here.” Dr. Hale flung a pamphlet at him. Teen Pregnancy: It’s Your Choice! “If
you’re going to sit in my office, at least pretend like I’m doing my job.”
“Afraid someone’s going to walk in?” Stiles inquired.
“You haven’t given me high expectations for my visitors,” Dr. Hale answered. “I
don’t get it. Some of you would rather extort extra credit from me than talk
about sex. When I was in high school, sex was all I wanted to talk about.”
“Is that why you became a sex ed. teacher?” asked Stiles.
“No. I became a sex ed. teacher because I caught syphilis from the running back
of the football team, which I mistook for smallpox. That was when I realized I
needed to learn more about sexually transmitted diseases, and along the way I
realized most other people did, too.”
“Your school had a girl as the running back?” Stiles stammered.
Dr. Hale rolled his eyes. “The running back was as much of a girl as I am.”
Another breadcrumb for the trail, this one showing that Dr. Hale might actually
be interested in him. As if! He held the pregnancy pamphlet close to his face
to hide his blush.
“So what did you do?” Stiles squeaked. “About the syphilis.”
“You want to know more?” Dr. Hale opened his hand to Stiles. “The rest of the
story costs one condom wrapper.”
“What?! Not fair,” he objected.
“Neither is blackmail,” reminded Dr. Hale. “I’m actually offering this story at
discount considering that wrapper is basically worthless. After I got over the
surprise, I realized there was really no way to trace that back to me
personally. And I did give a lecture on condoms having different sizes, so
throwing in an extra-large one was totally justified.” Stiles looked obstinate,
so Dr. Hale added, “You can still come back to my office without questions and
I’ll give you extra credit for it. At this point, I think polite company is the
best I can hope for.”
Stiles hesitated, but eventually turned over the condom wrapper, making Dr.
Hale sigh in relief. He wasn’t sure if Stiles would actually give into that.
“Well?” Stiles chirped. “Me pay, you say.”
“Right,” he sighed. “I contracted syphilis from the running back, panicked, got
a shot of penicillin and everything was fine. Then I contracted a few more STDs
during my high school career—“
“A few more?!” Stiles snapped.
Dr. Hale chuckled deep from his chest. “Well, high schools are breeding grounds
for STDs—which is what I’ve been trying to teach you. But, admittedly, I was
also pretty promiscuous.”
Of course. The handsome doctor had been with a hundred people during high
school, while Stiles was sitting here as the last member of the dying breed of
teenaged virgins.
“They called me Big Dick Derek,” he continued, grinning guiltily. “Big Dick
Derek, the guy who reached the spots no one else could. God, those were some
times.” He noticed the blush creeping up Stiles’ forehead, above the pamphlet’s
cover-up, and rolled his eyes. “Should I pretend you didn’t see the size
labeled on the wrapper you just handed me?”
“A pretty generous label, if you ask me,” Stiles mumbled.
“It wasn’t,” corrected Dr. Hale.
“See!” Stiles pointed the pregnancy pamphlet at Dr. Hale accusingly. “There you
go again, trying to embarrass me. I’m so freaking done with it.”
Dr. Hale raised his hands innocently. “Sorry, but I thought you wanted to know.
Anyway, I’m not trying to endorse promiscuity. I made a lot of mistakes in high
school, and having a lot of sexual partners was a big one. My advice is if you
want to have sex, do it with someone you trust.”
“Fat chance of that happening,” Stiles quipped. “I’m a virgin, and probably
going to stay that way forever.”
Dr. Hale smirked. “All right, sure.”
“I’m serious.” Stiles flung the pamphlet at Dr. Hale’s forehead. Bullseye.
“After I die, some archaeologist is going to dig me up a million years later
and declare me a new species. Virginus erectus.”
Dr. Hale folded his arms behind his head and calmly said, “If I had to bet my
job on which would happen first, you losing your virginity or a new species of
human getting discovered in the next million years, I would choose the first
one. Don’t sell yourself short, Stiles. There are probably a lot of people out
there who only dream of taking your virginity, and you don’t even realize it.”
He pressed his lips together, then admitted, “Now that’ssomething that could be
misconstrued in a way that gets me fired.”
The school bell chimed.
“Just gimme the extra credit and no one has to find out,” Stiles stammered,
cheeks red. Then he stood up, almost turning around before even leaving the
chair, and left the office for his next class. Virginus erectus, indeed.
Chapter End Notes
     Leave a kudos or a comment if you wish Dr. Hale was your sex ed.
     teacher! :P
***** See you later, Stiles *****
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes
Report cards were passed out on Friday in economics, and when Stiles saw his
grades he immediately wanted to race down to the nurse’s office, give Dr. Hale
a bone-crushing hug and exclaim, “You did it! I passed biology with a C!” But
when the school bell chimed and he shoved his way downstairs through a tide of
his classmates, he found that the nurse’s office was empty and locked.
“Office hours are now held in the weight room,” read the note stuck to the
door, in Dr. Hale’s sharp handwriting.
Stiles wasn’t surprised. As the week progressed, Dr. Hale had started leaving
his post in the nurse’s station increasingly to run errands or take lunches or
pump iron in the school’s weight room. Nor could he blame Dr. Hale, considering
he entertained just one visitor a day, who happened to be a filthy blackmailer.
But Stiles was sure there would be no bad blood left between them after today.
He had passed biology, Dr. Hale’s contract was ending with the school he hated,
so now there was nothing left to be bitter about.
The weight room greeted him with a mixture of deadly smells and grunting noises
upon entering, making him feel like he had walked into a pig pen. Pinching his
shirt over his nose, he followed the grunting to an open floor of exercise
machinery where Dr. Hale seemed to be alone, positioned on a bench with
earphones jammed into his ears, pressing a stacked bar over his chest.
“Need a spotter?” Stiles asked, but apparently not loud enough to be heard over
Dr. Hale’s headphones, because he racked the bar just as Stiles attempted to
lay his hands on it.
Dr. Hale sat up, his face and arms coated in a sheen of sweat that made Stiles
reconsider hugging him for the extra credit. He pulled out an earphone and
asked, “Why do you look like you’re trying to mug me?”
Stiles pulled the shirt off his face. “The only thing getting mugged here is my
stomach of the sandwich I had for lunch.” He made a nauseated face, then shook
his head. “Anyway, I’m actually here for the opposite reason. To give you
something.”
He reached into his backpack but Dr. Hale stopped him.
“Unless you want it getting covered it sweat, going away presents are going to
have to wait.” He pulled out the other earphone, stood, and wiped his face on
the hem his shirt. Stiles tried not to stare at his abs when he did so. “Can I
get cleaned up before your heartbreaking and tearful goodbye?”
Stiles snorted. “Sure.”
Dr. Hale lumbered off to the locker room, and Stiles wasn’t sure if he intended
him to follow. Eventually he did, just to escape the weight room’s stench. At
least in the locker room there were lingering shampoo and soap scents from the
showers to deodorize the air.
Dr. Hale unlatched a locker and stuffed his phone and earphones into the gym
bag wedged onto its top shelf. Stiles didn’t know what he expected to happen
next, but when Dr. Hale peeled off his shirt, Stiles flung his hands up
defensively.
“Whoa!” he squeaked. “What happened to the no striptease rule?”
Dr. Hale rolled his eyes. “That was when I was still your teacher. Now that my
contract is up, I have no respectabilities to uphold with the school or with
you. So feel free to stare all you want this time.”
He stuffed the shirt into his gym bag and reached for his mesh shorts. Stiles
violently faced the opposite direction before he got an eyeful of something
that would make his cheeks burn, but then he considered this might be his only
chance to ever really see Dr. Hale naked. Turn or stay put? When he finally
decided that he needed to see, Dr. Hale was already wrapped in a towel.
“That was unexpected,” commented Dr. Hale. “I honestly thought all those
blushes I had seen throughout the week were because you had a crush on me, but
you didn’t even try to peek.”
And Stiles regretted it immensely. “What can I say?” he shrugged. “I’m an old
fashioned gentleman. You ever need someone to defend your honor or promenade
you at a ball, I’m your man.”
Dr. Hale snorted. “Well, promenade over there so we can keep talking. I heard
report cards went out today?”
Stiles followed Dr. Hale to a shower stall, where he shut himself behind the
plastic curtain and flopped the towel over the curtain rod. Stiles leaned back
against the wall and knocked his head against the cool tile. Dammit. Dammit.
Dammit. He had blown his chance.
“Yeah, they went out today,” he sighed. “And I passed biology, thanks to a
certain school nurse.”
 “Doctor,” corrected Dr. Hale. “I went to medical school for that title, so
you’d better use it.”
 “A certain school doctor,” amended Stiles, but that sounded kind of weird.
“Anyway, I just wanted to thank you for helping me out, whether you wanted to
or not. With the way things were going, it looked like I was gonna have to
retake the class.”
 Dr. Hale hummed in acknowledgement, his deep voice reverberating on the tile.
“I definitely didn’t want to, but regardless I’m glad you passed. How are
things with your dad’s work?”
A few days ago, Stiles had confided to him that worries at home were a major
reason for his low grades, but he had expected that Dr. Hale would simply
forget that detail. Surprised, he answered, “Good… for now. It looks like he’ll
be keeping his job ‘til the end of the month. Too bad you can’t fix that, too.”
He laughed. “If only your extra credit could have fixed all my problems.
Thatwould have fulfilled your duties as a mentor.”
“I don’t think that’s how mentoring works,” replied Dr. Hale. “Besides, you
don’t have a lot of problems. What else could I have fixed other than your
grades and your situation at home? Your virginity?”
Stiles barked a laugh. “Yeah, right. Isn’t your job to persuade me to keep my
virginity?”
“It was,” answered Dr. Hale. “But that’s not my job anymore, remember?”
“I guess,” replied Stiles. “So, theoretically, you could fix my virginity.”
A blush crept into his cheeks from what he’d said, and was worsened from Dr.
Hale not responding. He listened to the silent, judgmental pitter-patter of
water inside the shower stall.
But then the curtain opened—way more than was needed just to stick out a hand,
which is what Dr. Hale did. “Did I leave a scrub brush out there?”
Stiles stared, mesmerized by the shiny, wet arm. Then he realized Dr. Hale had
asked him something and quickly checked the floor and the bench by the locker.
“No?” he answered. “I don’t think I saw you carrying one.”
“Goddammit,” grumbled Dr. Hale. “I probably left it at home. Maybe you can help
me, then.” Two-thirds of the blood in Stiles’ brain left when Dr. Hale emerged
from the shower without his towel, holding a bottle of liquid soap in his hand.
“Can you wash my back?”
Stiles babbled something incoherent, goggling at the beautiful, wet, naked man.
“Is that a no?” asked Dr. Hale. “Stiles, I’m asking you to step into my stall
and scrub soap onto me with your bare hands. ‘No’ isn’t an acceptable answer.”
“Are you—coming onto me?” Stiles stammered.
Dr. Hale shrugged. “Probably. But the only way to be sure is to take off your
clothes and step into this stall with me.”
Dr. Hale nipped back behind the curtain, leaving Stiles’ brain a puddle of
mush. He shook his head to clear his thoughts, then immediately began tearing
off his backpack and clothes. Everything except his underwear, which he
couldn’t muster the nerve to discard.
He drew open the curtain to find Dr. Hale still there, showering like normal.
Then he drew the curtain behind him, and Dr. Hale turned to face him, eyebrows
raising when he saw Stiles in his boxers.
“Do you normally shower in your underwear?” he asked.
“I normally shower by myself,” Stiles responded.
“Well, there’s a first time for everything. Can I go ahead and take them off
for you?”
Stiles reluctantly nodded. Dr. Hale slipped them off, his last line of modesty,
and they fell into the puddle around his feet. His dick sprung free.
Completely, embarrassingly hard already.
Dr. Hale hummed in his deep voice. “This is what you would call an erection,”
he explained. Then he wrapped his hand around it. “And if you rub it, it should
feel very good.”
Stiles would have chided him for treating this like another lecture, but his
body was wracked with intense jolts of pleasure that prevented the use of his
mouth. Before he could stop what was happening, he doubled over and caught the
wall, bolts of cum emptying into Dr. Hale’s fist.
“Oh, God,” he whimpered. He wanted to say more, but it was all he could manage.
“That was slightly quicker than I expected,” Dr. Hale commented. He let the
shower wash the mess off his hand, then Stiles was squeezing his shoulder.
“I’m sorry,” he pleaded. “I didn’t know it was gonna be that fast. I don’t want
my first time to consist of a ten second hand job.”
Dr. Hale chuckled. “And it won’t, if you don’t want it to. But there’s
something I didn’t have time to teach you called the ‘refractory period’.
Basically, it’s going to be a while before you can get another erection, so
you’ll have to keep yourself occupied in the meantime.”
Dr. Hale pointedly waggled his own cock, which Stiles then took into his hands
and stroked. Dr. Hale wasn’t nearly as sensitive as he was, the only signs of
pleasure playing for brief moments on his face. Wasn’t Stiles doing it right?
He dropped to his knees where he could get a better angle and vigorously
stroked the thing until it became impossibly bigger. Seeing it completely hard,
it more than lived up to the hype set forth by the condom used for the
demonstration.
“So. Am I allowed to blow you?” he asked, thwacking Dr. Hale’s cock in his palm
like a bat.
“No,” answered Dr. Hale, making Stiles suddenly freeze. “What kind of sex ed.
teacher would I be if I didn’t practice safe sex? Let me get a condom first.”
“Wait, wait, wait!” Stiles snared his thighs to keep him from leaving, then
carefully reached outside the curtain for his backpack, which was still in a
heap with his clothes. Keeping it out of the shower spray, he unzipped it and
pulled out a new box of extra-large condoms.
Dr. Hale raised a bushy eyebrow. “Did you expect this to happen?”
Digging a condom package out of the box, Stiles shook his head. “This was what
I wanted to give you. Sort of a gag gift, but I guess it’ll actually come in
handy.”
He tried ripping open the package with his teeth, like he had seen in porn, but
only succeeded in removing a corner of foil. Then he grudgingly used his
fingers to tear open the package, and roll the length of slick, orange rubber
onto Dr. Hale’s cock.
“I’m guessing lube wasn’t part of the gift?” Dr. Hale asked, to which Stiles
shook his head. “Then I’ll need a second.” He drew aside the plastic curtain
and plodded out into the locker room, completely naked, his condom-covered cock
swinging rhythmically in front of him like a metronome. Stiles couldn’t believe
he had the gall to do that when, any moment, someone could walk in and see.
Dr. Hale lugged his backpack out of the locker, and took from it a purple
sachet of lube, which Stiles recognized as the kind he used for class
demonstrations. Then he slung the backpack back into the locker and strolled
back, fortuitously unseen.
“That was risky as hell,” Stiles chided.
“True,” agreed Dr. Hale. “But compared to everything else I’ve done with you,
definitely not the most risky.”
A silly grin grew on Stiles’ face. The admission made him realize that Dr. Hale
really had gambled a lot for him. To save his grade, to take his virginity. He
must have been at least a little special to Dr. Hale for him to do that, which
made Stiles’ chest flutter. 
Before the lube was added, Stiles gave sucking the massive cock a good, ole
college try. He expected to at least reach the halfway point, but when the tip
probed his sensitive throat muscles and he opened his eyes, he saw he was still
slobbering on the tip. And he didn’t dare swallow any more, unless his first
time would consist of a ten second hand job and projectile vomit. He spat it
out – the latex condom tasted antiseptic anyway – and decided other parts of
Dr. Hale were better targets. He licked up one hairy thigh, and then wrapped
his lips around Dr. Hale’s testicles, which seemed to be his weak point.
“That’s good,” Dr. Hale admitted, trying and failing to keep his teacher-like
composure. He groaned, deep and rough, almost sounding like an animal. Then he
grabbed the back of Stiles’ head, and pressed him harder between his legs. But
Stiles was running out of breath.
“Mmfmm,” he mumbled, mouth full. Dr. Hale released him. “I’m hard again,”
Stiles announced.
Dr. Hale could see that Stiles didn’t want to suck on his testicles again; that
was a challenge he just wasn’t yet experienced enough to commit to. He helped
Stiles to his feet, then planted a bearded kiss on his lips, squeezing Stiles
against him.
“We should probably get to the main course if we don’t want the class next
period to discover us,” he said, which made Stiles feel like he’d been slowing
them down with his fumbling.
“Uhm, sure,” he responded. He knew he wanted Dr. Hale to fuck him, but being a
virgin, he didn’t know how to proceed. Awkwardly turning around to plant his
hands on the slick, tiled wall, Stiles looked over his shoulder and asked,
“Like this?”
Dr. Hale chuckled. “It should do.” Then he pressed himself against Stiles’
back, growling in Stiles’ ear while the rod that was his cock overfilled the
space between Stiles’ ass cheeks.
“Holy fuck,” Stiles whimpered, eyes fluttering shut. He felt like he could stay
this way forever, with Dr. Hale nipping at his ear lobes and rutting his cock
against his ass. But he couldn’t, because he needed Dr. Hale in his ass, a
feeling which he could only anticipate with weak-kneed excitement since
everything already felt so good.
Dr. Hale ripped open the purple lube sachet with his teeth, not failing like
Stiles had with the condom. Then he squelched half the contents onto two
fingers and smeared them around Stiles’ hole, which made him shiver and clench.
He pushed them inside, which felt pretty uncomfortable for Stiles, but soon
enough things were loosened and relaxed to the point that Dr. Hale decided it
was fine to try entering. He smeared the remaining lube onto his shaft and
aimed it against Stiles’ hole.
“Oh… kay,” Stiles said, taking calculated breaths. The cock was much bigger
than Dr. Hale’s fingers. “OK. Wow. OK,” he kept saying.
“Everything all right?” asked Dr. Hale, lifting a dew-covered eyebrow.
 “Yeah. Just, wow,” admitted Stiles, painfully. Though he guessed “wow” sounded
like a compliment, so he didn’t feel guilty for saying it.
Dr. Hale slipped a few inches of his massive cock into the hole before Stiles
started to squirm like he was being pushpinned to the wall. “That’s good,
that’s good,” he pleaded, telling Dr. Hale to stop. “How much is inside?” He
looked over his shoulder to see, regretfully, that he was only slightly past
the tip, just like with his failed blowjob.
“It’s OK,” comforted Dr. Hale. “I didn’t expect you to take the whole thing on
your first try.” He rested his hand on Stiles’ shoulder, squeezing it a little,
his rough finger pads on tensed muscles, making them relax. Then he slowly
withdrew a few inches of cock, and pushed them back in.
Stiles grunted, breathy and without intending to. It was like Dr. Hale was
operating his lungs with the head of his cock. Each movement out was an inhale,
and each in was an exhale. Then Dr. Hale reached around to grab Stiles’ cock
and stroke it in rhythm with the thrusts. Stiles would have came immediately if
not for the pain he was in.
Stiles turned his head slightly, still grunting. “Can you… Can you…” he
started, never able to finish the question because he was either grunting or
snapping his mouth shut from embarrassment. He wanted to ask Dr. Hale to growl
in his ear again. He liked that. But asking for it seemed ridiculous, and
Stiles didn’t even know what to call it.
“Can I stop?” Dr. Hale filled in.
“No. Nothin’,” Stiles answered. Then he went back to grunting, his forehead
against the cold tile.
Eventually Dr. Hale stopped stroking Stiles’ cock in favor of jerking off the
leftover shaft of his own cock, the part that wouldn’t fit in Stiles’ body. He
stroked it ferociously with double fists, obviously trying to make up for the
friction he wasn’t getting from Stiles’ hole.  After a minute, Stiles reached
back to help him out. Suddenly Dr. Hale roared and Stiles felt the enormous
shaft tense up in his hand.
When Dr. Hale pulled out, Stiles felt wobbly and like his organs might drop
through the giant hole that was surely gaping between his legs. He turned
around to see a big, white tear drop drooping inside the condom, off the tip of
Dr. Hale’s slowly softening cock. He slipped off the condom and knotted its
end, as if he didn’t want the tear drop to escape.
“Uh,” Stiles began. “We kind of have some unfinished business.” He gestured to
his own dick, still hard.
“I didn’t forget,” said Dr. Hale. He took a knee, looking very mischievous with
a half-smirk. “In fact, I was looking forward to blowing you…”
He kissed the tip of Stiles’ cock, grabbed it, rubbed it against his beard, and
then swallowed the whole length. Stiles stumbled back against the wall, his
feet nearly slipping out from under him on the damp concrete. Now this he
liked. This was what he wanted Dr. Hale fucking him to feel like. He gripped
Dr. Hale’s water-spiked hair and pulled him down, though his nose was already
pressed against Stiles’ pubes.
“I can’t believe my sex ed. teacher is sucking my dick,” he moaned.
Dr. Hale growled something in response, his deep voice rumbling around Stiles’
shaft. Then he slipped a finger between Stiles’ legs, into his ass, and that
was all it took. One finger hitting the right spot. Now his sex. ed teacher was
expertly swallowing his cum.
Stiles couldn’t see or hear anything until the cum completely emptied from his
cock. When he finally looked down, blinking through the steam at Dr. Hale with
stray bits of cum on his lips and beard, Stiles was sure he was in love. He
wanted to tell Dr. Hale he needed him to stay in Beacon Hills, but when he
opened his mouth, he started to giggle uncontrollably. Then he threw his arms
around Dr. Hale’s wide shoulders and went limp, laughing and unable to stop
himself.
“I’m guessing I did a good job?” Dr. Hale asked, patting Stiles’ back. With his
free hand, he shut off the shower. Then he wrapped a towel around Stiles and
carried him back to the lockers, where he sat him down and began to dress.
Stiles watched contentedly as Dr. Hale scrubbed himself dry with a second towel
and  pulled on his underwear. God, he looked great in underwear. Then he threw
on his button-up shirt, pulled up his slacks, and threaded his belt. God, he
looked good in a shirt, pants and belt.
He tossed the knotted condom into his gym bag, rather than the trash bin only a
few feet away. “Are you going to be OK here?” he asked. Then he nodded to the
heap of clothes and backpack outside the shower stall. “Your stuff is over
there,” he reminded.
“Yeah,” Stiles snorted. He reached for Dr. Hale’s shoulders and barely caught
them, then pulled Dr. Hale in for a kiss that was way too short and chaste.
“I’m gonna be OK.”
“That’s good,” Dr. Hale nodded stiffly. “See you later, Stiles.” He headed for
the exit, glancing around as if someone was watching him. Then he pushed
through the door and didn't look back.
Chapter End Notes
     Took awhile to write this because school. It's a little sloppy, but
     yolo. >_>
End Notes
     Drop a comment and let me know what you think or what you'd like to
     see next! Not sure where I'm taking the story yet and reviews are
     greatly appreciated! Point out any typos as well!
     Thanks for reading! ^^
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