Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/1139689.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Teen_Wolf_(TV)
  Relationship:
      Isaac_Lahey/Stiles_Stilinski
  Character:
      Stiles_Stilinski, Isaac_Lahey
  Additional Tags:
      Blow_Jobs, post-314, Come_Shot, Come_Eating, Boxers, Plot_What_Plot/Porn
      Without_Plot, Scent_Kink
  Stats:
      Published: 2014-01-17 Words: 1036
****** I'll soon grow hungry for a fight ******
by Marishna
Summary
     “Where’s—” Stiles gasped, then tried again. “Where’s your scarf?”
     Isaac snorted against Stiles’ neck where his face was buried while
     his tongue traced a path down the tendons straining against Stiles’
     skin.
Notes
     Written for week 2 of season 3b of keysmashblog's This Might Help
     challenge.
“Where’s—” Stiles gasped, then tried again. “Where’s your scarf?”
Isaac snorted against Stiles’ neck where his face was buried while his tongue
traced a path down the tendons straining against Stiles’ skin.
“I thought it offended your delicate fashion sensibilities,” Isaac drawled,
pulling back just enough to look Stiles in the eye.
“Dude, seriously? I don’t give a fuck what you wear. It is a little warm for it
though, right?” Stiles asked, then grinned. “Or is it just me that gets hot
under the collar when we’re together?”
Isaac groaned and dropped his head to Stiles’ shoulder. “You’re the absolute
worst. But if you want to play that game how about every time you open your big
mouth all I can think about is how it feels around my—“
“Fuck you,” Stiles whispered heatedly before lunging towards Isaac and covering
his mouth with his own. Stiles wrapped his hands around the back of Isaac’s
head and held him close, grinding his hips against Isaac’s leg that was working
its way between Stiles’ knees.
“When does your dad come home?” Isaac asked against Stiles’ mouth. Stiles broke
the kiss and leaned his head back.
“Seriously? Now?”
“I want to know how much time I have,” Isaac murmured as he trailed one hand
down Stiles’ chest before it settled on his belt buckle.
Stiles’ breath caught in his throat and his Adam’s apple bobbed as he fought to
form words. He nodded shakily, then gasped, “Yeah, not for a couple hours I
think.”
“You think?” Isaac asked with a grin.
“Sorry, all the blood in my body isn’t exactly working in the right head right
now,” Stiles shot back.
“Let’s see what I can do to help with that,” Isaac said while licking his lips
lasciviously. He sank to his knees slowly, making sure to brush against Stiles’
front the whole way down, drawing a moan from him.
Stiles tried to open his own pants but Isaac batted his hands away and pushed
them behind Stiles’ body so he couldn’t touch himself. Stiles whined in the
back of his throat but stayed put.
Isaac unbuckled Stiles’ belt and pulled it out of the loops with a flourish,
then tossed it behind them onto the bed where Stiles not-so-secretly hoped to
end up with Isaac someday soon.
Isaac drew Stiles’ attention back by popping the button on the straining front
of Stiles’ jeans. He covered Stiles’ groin with one hand and waited for Stiles
to buck against him before he’d continue, pulling the zipper down agonizingly
slowly.
Stiles could feel the light vibrations through his cock from the zipper teeth
coming apart, hyperaware of every sound and touch and smell in that moment.
Isaac pushed the sides of Stiles’ jeans apart and leaned in to push his face
against the exposed front of Stiles’ simple green boxers, breathing in deep and
moaning against Stiles’ cock.
Stiles felt his mouth fall open and his eyes roll back in his head, but he
still didn’t move his hands.
Isaac worked the jeans over Stiles’ hips just enough do they bunched under his
ass and Isaac could see the dark patch, growing bigger as Stiles’ cock leaked
pre-come.
“Did you know this is my favourite part?” Isaac breathed, eyes fixated on
Stiles’ underwear. “I can smell it on you clear as anything, but to see it…”
Isaac trailed off, transfixed so Stiles thrusted his hips out, bumping against
Isaac’s face and bringing him back. “Taste it,” Stiles whispered.
Isaac leaned in, as told, and ran his tongue over the wet spot, then up and
down Stiles’ covered cock. Stiles barely registered his head hitting the door
behind him or the moan that wrung from his lips. Isaac’s hot mouth and wet
tongue sucked him through his boxers, trying to get every hidden taste from
Stiles before he couldn’t take it any longer.
“Not going to take much,” Stiles groaned as he felt Isaac’s fingers curl under
the waistband and pull his boxers down.
“Didn’t want it to,” Isaac replied and took Stiles in his mouth. Stiles’ hands
finally reached out and grabbed Isaac’s head, curling his fingers through his
hair and scratching his scalp while Isaac moved his tongue fully over Stiles’
cockhead.
Most of the time Stiles thought Isaac got more out of this than Stiles did and
Stiles got a-fucking-lot out of these moments. Isaac loved wrapping his mouth
around Stiles’ cock and listening to the changes in his heartbeat or breathing
as he learned Stiles’ taste.
True to form Isaac wrapped his hands around Stiles’ ass and pulled him in
tight, swallowing around Stiles’ cock and urging Stiles to fuck his face.
Stiles only had to thrust twice and then a jerky third time before he was
coming with a yell all over Isaac, who pulled back to catch Stiles’ come on his
tongue and mouth.
Stiles slumped over Isaac, holding his head against his midsection while he
caught his breath. Isaac buried his face back in Stiles’ boxers, smearing the
come there to Stiles’ lacklustre consternation. He held Stiles up until he
could lean back against the door again, fingers still laced in Isaac’s hair.
“Your dad’s early. I can hear him coming down the street,” Isaac said, almost
sadly.
“But you— we haven’t… I mean,” Stiles tried to get his mind to cooperate with
his mouth to form words. “I want you.”
Isaac let his claws out with a shake of his hand and reached into Stiles’
jeans. He heard, rather than felt, the tear and then Isaac was holding his
soaked, come-stained boxers. Isaac shoved them into his backpack with a grin.
“I’m good,” he said with a shrug before slinging the bag over his shoulder.
“For today, anyway.”
Stiles groaned and covered his cock with his hand as it twitched against his
open jeans, but couldn’t resist a dig. “Fuck, Isaac, your weird taste in
fashion is killing me.”
“I’ll make it up to you,” Isaac promised, then leaned in to kiss Stiles quickly
on the lips, then was across the room and out the window before Stiles could
react.
“I don’t doubt you for a second.”
He heard Isaac laughing from outside.
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