Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/1607531.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Rape/Non-Con, Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Teen_Wolf_(TV)
  Relationship:
      Rafael_McCall/Stiles_Stilinski
  Character:
      Rafael_McCall, Stiles_Stilinski, Scott_McCall, Sheriff_Stilinski, Melissa
      McCall
  Additional Tags:
      Shota_Stiles, Extremely_Underage, Somnophilia, Masturbation, Abuse_of
      Authority, Amorality, Bad_Touch, Age_Difference, Finger_Sucking,
      Emotional_Manipulation, Blow_Jobs, First_Kiss, Explicit_Sexual_Content,
      Childhood_Sexual_Abuse, Rape/Non-con_Elements, Bad_wrong, Rimming, First
      Time, Drugged_Sex, Barebacking, Snowballing
  Stats:
      Published: 2014-05-13 Completed: 2014-05-25 Chapters: 3/3 Words: 9079
****** Make Me Feel Like I'm Breathing ******
by alittlesecret
Summary
     Stiles is Rafa's weakness. He knows it's wrong, but sometimes it
     becomes too much to handle. Rafa's willpower was never his strong
     suit.
Notes
     Heed the tags! This fic has extremely underage (re: Stiles' mother is
     still alive at the beginning of this fic, so take that as you will)
     so if you have issue with that then don't read this fic.
     This is pure fantasy, and does not indicate my feelings rl on the
     subject re: shota etc. NOT REAL.
     this is unbeta'd, all mistakes are my own. let me know if another tag
     is needed.
***** Chapter 1 *****
“Are you sure it’s fine?” John Stilinski said as he handed over a sleeping
Stiles to Rafa. Rafa held Stiles under his ass, putting a hand on his lower
back as his head rest against Rafa’s shoulder, his mouth open, his limbs limp
in Rafa’s arms.
“Of course,” Rafa said, meaning it. “Anytime.”
“Thanks,” John said, giving Stiles one last look before he turned to head
towards the cruiser. He had the night shift, and couldn’t leave Stiles alone in
the house, not with Claudia in the hospital. Before Rafa had a chance to close
the door, John came running back with Stiles’ bag, along with a pillow. “Here,
he can’t sleep without it.”
“You pick him up whenever you can, get some rest,” Rafa said, only guessing at
how exhausted he must be. With the door closed, Rafa held Stiles in his arms,
rocking back and forth in place. Stiles was dead asleep; nothing would wake
him. If Rafa cupped his ass on the way up the stairs, Stiles was none the wiser
for it. Rafa touched his fingers to bare skin as Stiles’ shirt rucked up his
back, sighing at the contact.
It was all Rafa would get, allow himself to have with Melissa asleep in their
room. He opened Scott’s bedroom door, placing Stiles on the bed next to him. He
ran his hand over Stiles’ head, his fingers raking through his unruly hair,
thumb ghosting over his lips.
Rafa sighed, taking a step away from them, heading downstairs to grab Stiles’
things. When he returned, Stiles curled in towards Scott, his little fingers
linked together with Rafa’s son’s. He bent over, cupping Stiles’ head in order
to lift it, placing the pillow beneath it. Stiles didn’t stir, so Rafa kissed
his forehead, then Scott’s, though his lips lingered more on Stiles’.
Everything seemed so easy by the light of the moon, with only the darkness
around him able to see the man he really was. Rafa gave one last look to the
sleeping forms on the bed before he shut the door.
-
“Stiles, you have to eat your breakfast,” Melissa said as she rushed around the
kitchen. Stiles played with his cheerios, his body swinging back and forth in
his seat as he tried to look through one of the small pieces, making an ‘o’
shape with his mouth as Scott had a spoon in his mouth, moving along with
Stiles.
“Boys, eat up,” Rafa said at the table, giving them a look as he took a sip of
his coffee. Stiles kept swaying in his seat, but he picked up some cheerios
with his fingers, dipping them in the milk before putting them in his mouth.
“Stiles, spoon.”
“As long as he eats it, I don’t care,” Melissa said. “Claudia said he has
trouble eating.” Rafa took that into account as Melissa rushed over, kissing
him, then Scott. “I’ll be back in twelve hours, are you sure you have them?”
“I said, didn’t I?” Rafa said as he turned the page of the paper. It was
Saturday, and he was off.
“Just checking,” Melissa said, putting her hands up before grabbing her purse.
“You boys be good.”
“We will!” Scott called out.
“Yes, Ms. Melissa!” Stiles said after the door was already shut. As soon as the
garage closed, Rafa turned to look at the two boys, who continued eating. Well,
Scott did, Stiles, not so much. He was licking his fingers, though. Rafa licked
his lips, steeling himself for a day full of innuendos and circumstances he
couldn’t do a thing about.
“Who wants to watch Ben10?” Rafa asked. Stiles’ hand shot up into the sky, his
eyes wide as it waved around. Scott nodded his head slowly over and over again
as he put another spoonful of cheerios into his mouth. “You can’t watch it
until your cheerios are gone, even the milk,” Rafa said, looking Stiles in the
eye.
“I’m full,” Stiles said.
“Me too,” Scott added.
“Well I gues no Ben10, then,” Rafa said with a sigh, looking at his newspaper
like it wans’t a big deal. They exchanged glances, then picked up their bowls,
drinking it up, cheerios and all. They made a mess, which was to be expected.
“Shirts off,” Rafa said after they put their dishes in the sink. “I’ll put the
show on and get you new ones.” Rafa helped Scott out of his first, then Stiles,
his hands unable to help themselves as they lingered on his slim sides, a thumb
brushing over a nipple. Stiles squirmed, but nothing out of the ordinary. Rafa
knew he was recently diagnosed with ADHD, he had heard Melissa talking to
Claudia over the phone about it. Too young for medication for it, they had to
wait a few more years to do anything about it. Too young.
Rafa put Ben10 on, then cleaned up the mess on the table. He took his time,
watching the boys wrestle around on the couch, Stiles always touching, always
poking and prodding. Scott took it all in stride, of course. He loved when
Stiles got to spend the night.
After the episode, Rafa helped them put on new shirts, ruffling Scott’s hair
just so he could do the same to Stiles, his eyes closing, his grin wide as Rafa
carded his fingers through his hair.
“I’ve got to do some outside work, why don’t you boys play out back as I do
it?” Rafa said. He had to mow the lawn, then maybe he would put on the
sprinkler for the boys to run through.
“I want to swing first!” Stiles called out.
“Okay, but then me,” Scott said. Stiles took Scott’s hand as Rafa followed them
outside. It was going to be a long afternoon. He watched them play out of the
corner of his eye as he did yardwork, the two of them never straying far as
they imagined made up worlds and far away places that his adult mind had
forgotten how to do. They were at the age that imagination ran rampant, and
everything was make believe. Rafa envied them as they drew on the sidewalk out
front as he mowed the front lawn, their hands covered in different colors.
When he was done, he took off his shirt to wipe his face with it. It was a hot
day, warm enough that they would love him if he put out the sprinkler. He did
so without comment, turning it on just to see their faces.
“Can we? Can we?” Scott asked as Stiles danced around, tugging impatiently at
his shirt.
“Let’s not send these clothes to the hamper just yet,” Rafa said as he pulled
them closer to him, helping them out of their shirts, shoes, and socks. Stiles
shoved his shorts down, too, showing off his Spiderman briefs.
“Oh, cool,” Scott said, touching them without realizing what personal
boundaries were. Stiles, too, had no idea as he grasped at Rafa’s bare chest,
holding onto him as he took off his own socks, his small fingernails digging
into his skin. “Dad, I want ones like that,” Scott exclaimed.
“You have Thor ones, I want those,” Stiles pointed out.
“We can just switch,” Scott said, shrugging. Stiles nodded his head as Rafa put
their clothes into piles.
“Go on, I’ll turn the water off when it’s time for lunch.” Rafa watched them
for a moment, jumping through the sprinkler, getting soaked as they screamed.
When it became too much, he gathered their clothes and went inside. Instead of
going into the kitchen, Rafa made his way into the master bathroom. He locked
the door, holding onto Stiles’ shirt in his hand as he shoved his shorts down,
revealing his erection. He sank to his knees on the tiled floor, resting his
head against the sink as he wrapped a hand around his cock while the other
pressed Stiles’ shirt beneath his nose. He closed his eyes as he breathed in
the scent of him, jacking off to the smell of Stiles. He moaned as he allowed
himself this one thing, hidden away from the sight of anyone.
He thrust his hips against his hand, fucking himself as he thought of Stiles,
his addiction. It was wrong, how much he wanted him, but he couldn’t stop the
thoughts from flooding his mind. He wanted to touch, he wanted to defile the
one thing he couldn’t have. Rafa bit down on the cotton shirt as he came in his
hand, come splashing against his stomach. He was going to hell, that much he
knew, but that didn’t stop him from wanting to rub Stiles’ shirt over himself.
Rafa refrained from doing so, but the thought alone made his dick twitch.
When he emerged to make sandwiches, he checked on the boys. They were still
running around, jumping through the sprinkler. He took his time, cutting the
crusts off their bologna and cheese sandwiches before grabbing two towels from
the linen closet. As he opened the front door, the two boys groaned.
“No!” Scott said, pouting.
“We’re not done!” Stiles protested.
“Come here, let me see your fingers,” Rafa said, gesturing for them to come
forward. They stomped their way over to him, holding out their hands. They were
pruny, white; they needed to get out of the water. “I think it’s time to eat.”
“No,” Stiles complained, elongating his plea, his feet stamping in place as
Rafa wrapped a towel around Scott, drying him off. Stiles waited his turn, and
once Scott was sent inside to sit at the kitchen table, Rafa was alone with
Stiles on the front porch. Even though they were surrounded by other houses, by
neighbors, Rafa knew it was a time to cherish. He wrapped Stiles in the towel,
a hand on his back as he dried him off. He used his hands, over the towel, to
dry off Stiles’ legs, his arms, his hair, holding him closer than Scott.
“I cut off the crusts,” Rafa said as Stiles looked down, watching Rafa’s hands
roam over his body.
“I don’t mind crusts,” Stiles said as he rubbed at his eye. “Mom says it’s good
for me.”
“She’s right,” Rafa said, running a finger down his nose. Stiles grinned, his
eyes blinking up at Rafa as he stood, ushering Stiles inside. “Sit on the
towel,” Rafa called out as Stiles almost sat at the kitchen table on his wet
underwear.
He watched as Stiles picked at the sandwich, ripping it apart bit by bit,
eating the smallest possible pieces of bread and cheese.
“Stiles, I want you to eat half of that sandwich,” Rafa said as he went to make
his own. Stiles nodded his head as he watched Scott eat his the normal way.
“My dad said I’m going to get to see my mom tomorrow,” Stiles said as his legs
swung back and forth under the table, his elbows splayed up on the tabletop as
he chewed his food with an open mouth.
“Oh? Is he taking you to see her?”
“Uh huh,” Stiles said. “Since I’ve been good.”
“You have been,” Rafa pointed out, watching Stiles take a big bite of his
sandwich, almost too big. So big that what he said next was completely
unintelligible. “Stiles, chew with your mouth closed.” Scott laughed as Stiles
attempted to do just that.
After that, it was an afternoon full of legos, X-Men action figures, and
Avatar: The Last Airbender on TV. Rafa mostly worked at the kitchen table,
keeping an eye on them as he had a report open. He could hear them chattering
away, making up stories as Wolverine went head to head with Cyclops and
Nightcrawler. He didn’t want to interrupt them, so he kept to his work. As much
as he had a weakness for Stiles, he had no intention of disrupting his son’s
own happiness. It was a fine line Rafa treaded on, he knew.
If only Stiles wasn’t so innocently suggestive, maybe it would be easier. Like
how he tugged at Rafa’s pant leg to get his attention, his hand on Rafa’s thigh
as Scott tugged on his shirt on the opposite side.
“Dad,” Scott pleaded. “Come play with us.”
“Me?” Rafa asked, looking at the two of them as Stiles played with his pant
leg, pinching the fabric up with his small fingers.
“Yeah we want to wrestle,” Stiles said, beginning to climb him, putting his
barefoot on Rafa’s thigh. At least they were dressed, Rafa thought as he stood
up, holding onto Stiles as he wrapped his legs around his waist as best he
could as Scott swung from his arm, his feet in the air as he laughed.
“Fe, fi, fo, fum,” Rafa called out as Stiles squealed in happiness that Rafa
was playing with them. Scott scrambled off of him, climbing onto the couch as
Rafa got down onto his knees, Stiles falling to the ground, Rafa easing him
down so his head didn’t bump against the carpet. Scott jumped onto his back,
holding onto Rafa’s neck as he straightened up, pretending to grab at Scott
before trapping Stiles beneath him with his hands, making a cage of sorts.
“I’ve caught Stiles,” Rafa announced. “I’m going to eat him for supper.” Stiles
rolled around as Rafa tickled him, his body wriggling beneath his touch as he
slid up Stiles’ shirt. Scott clung to him as Rafa bent over, blowing a
raspberry on Stiles’ stomach.
 
“No, dad! Don’t eat him!” Scott laughed as Rafa allowed his tongue to savor the
taste of Stiles’ skin before he blew another one, Stiles laughing beneath him,
his fingers in Rafa’s hair, tugging at it. Rafa moaned as Stiles’ feet pressed
against his thighs, shifting unknowingly as Rafa’s hand roamed over his body,
Stiles’ foot brushing over Rafa’s erection. He said nothing as Rafa freed him,
letting him escape. Stiles crawled away, only for Rafa to wrap a hand around
Stiles’ ankle, pulling him back. “You can’t escape me!”
“Scott, help!” Stiles played along. “He’s gonna eat me!”
“I’ll save you!” Scott said pretending to stab Rafa over and over. “I’ll defeat
the giant!”
“No one can defeat me!” Rafa said, pulling Scott off his back, holding onto his
waist as Scott flailed around. He caught Stiles, too, holding them both against
his hips as he stood.
“We’re supposed to win! We’re the good guys!” Scott cried out.
“Good wins against evil!” Stiles squirmed.
“Who said I was evil?” Rafa said. “What if you were the evil ones?”
“I’m Han Solo!” Stiles called out. “So I’m on the light side. It’s facts.”
“Giant says it’s time to watch more Ben10,” Rafa said, because if he didn’t get
away from Stiles, he’d regret it. The two boys seemed more than okay at the
thought of more Ben10, so Rafa wasn’t even missed as he went into the master
bedroom once more to relieve himself.
This time, he thought about the taste of Stiles on the tip of his tongue, of
Stiles’ foot against his erection, outlining it as Rafa pinned him to the
ground. Rafa allowed himself to think of Stiles’ mouth, what it would look like
with the head of his cock in it, sucking at it, his eyes open wide, his fingers
wrapped around his length. It didn’t take him long to come, his body shaking
with pure want. He laughed as he rode out his orgasm, watching as he covered
his hand in come.
He looked in the mirror after washing his hands, his pupils blown wide with
lust.
-
He joined the boys on the couch, watching the show with them. They were
crashing after a day full of fun, it seemed, as Scott leaned against him,
putting his head on Rafa’s chest. With Scott it was easy, because he was Rafa’s
son, but as Stiles shimmied over to do the same, Rafa tried not to react as he
draped a hand over both of them, rubbing their backs as their eyes drooped
shut. He continued to soothingly run his fingers up and down their backs,
dipping lower and lower on Stiles’, then all the way up to his neck, ghosting
his fingers across the nape of his neck before gently raking them down his
spine. Stiles climbed closer, his hand gripping Rafa’s shirt as he curled up
against him, his eyes forcing themselves to stay open.
Scott was asleep on his other side, but Stiles’ irregular breathing let him
know that he was still somewhat coherent. He had a leg draped over Rafa’s
thigh, his toes flexing every minute or so as he brushed his thumb against his
lips as if contemplating if he could stick it in his mouth or not. Rafa tried
not to pay attention, tried to ignore the throbbing need he felt between his
legs. He felt like a teenager, at how much he needed to jack off again. Stiles’
head moved, looking down at Rafa’s crotch. Rafa’s hand stilled on Stiles’ lower
back where his fingers brushed against bare skin where his shirt had ridden up.
“Are you okay?” Stiles asked him, his eyes wide as he looked up at Rafa, his
body splayed across Rafa’s thigh, his thumb teasingly close to his mouth,
catching on his bottom lip.
“Sure am, kiddo,” Rafa said, his voice shaking as his stomach clenched.
Unknowingly, Stiles sat up, straddling Rafa’s thigh, his own rubbing against
Rafa’s erection.
“You’re breathing funny,” Stiles pointed out, ever vigilant. “Like this.”
Stiles started panting as he held onto Rafa’s shirt, moving against him. It was
almost too much to handle, as his mouth hung open.
“Do you want to wake up Scott?” Rafa asked, his voice hushed, avoiding the
topic of conversation. Stiles looked to Scott, his eyes narrowing before he
poked him.
“He’s out for good,” Stiles said.
“Maybe we should put him in bed,” Rafa suggested, his mouth watering at the
thought of time alone with Stiles. Stiles nodded as he climbed off of Rafa, not
giving his tented shorts another glance as he started towards Scott’s room,
going up the stairs on hands and feet. Rafa came up behind him, holding Scott
in his arms.
When he entered Scott’s room, Stiles was sitting on the floor, playing with
ninja turtles. Rafa put Scott in bed, covering him up before standing over
Stiles, watching him play.
“We should let Scott sleep, Stiles,” Rafa said with his hands on his hips.
Stiles put the toys down then did the unexpected; he lifted his arms upwards
towards Rafa, wanting to be picked up. He was getting too old for that, Rafa
thought, even though he secretly was thrilled he could touch Stiles again. Rafa
tried to give Stiles a look, but as he made a grabby hand gesture up at him,
Rafa caved within moments.
He picked Stiles up, holding onto his ass as Stiles’ legs attempted to wrap
around his waist as they walked out of the room. Stiles had his head on Rafa’s
shoulder as they descended the stairs, his lips touching Rafa’s neck as he
breathed. When he sat back down on the couch, Stiles didn’t move. Instead, he
made himself comfortable, tucking his arms against his chest, sandwiching them
between Rafa’s and his own as he sat straddling Rafa’s hips, his knees bent and
feet tucked up against Rafa’s thighs.
“Are you comfortable?” Rafa asked. Stiles nodded his head, licking his lips,
his tongue catching against Rafa’s neck. Rafa shifted, trying to situate
himself so that Stiles couldn’t feel his erection. “What do you want to watch?”
“Grown up stuff,” Stiles mumbled. Rafa could tell he was tired, too, but that
he wanted to stay up. Rafa laughed as he placed a hand on Stiles’ back, rubbing
it as he flipped through the channels with his other hand. Stiles shifted
beneath his hand until his fingers were on bare skin once more, Stiles’ shirt
hiking up his back. Stiles sighed as he buried his head against Rafa’s neck,
apparently enjoying the skin on skin contact.
“My mom gives good back rubs,” Stiles said, his voice muffled. “She scratches
it.”
“Like this?” Rafa asked as he raked his nails tenderly up and down Stiles’
back. Stiles nodded his head, wiggling himself further down Rafa’s chest so
that his cheek rest against Rafa’s chest, over his heart. Stiles sat directly
on Rafa’s erection. If he didn’t have more control, he would fuck up against
him. Instead, Rafa continued scratching Stiles’ back.
Rafa didn’t pay attention to the TV, to the channel he stopped on, or the fact
that the sun went down. He didn’t look at the time, or realize that he hadn’t
turned on a lamp. He lost himself in having Stiles in his arms, warm against
his chest as he breathed evenly, sleeping as Rafa rubbed his back. He closed
his eyes, pressing his lips against the top of Stiles’ head, across his
forehead. Stiles didn’t wake as he hoisted him up so that his head fell against
Rafa’s shoulder, giving him enough room to free his cock.
It was wrong, so wrong as Rafa wrapped a hand around his cock as Stiles sat in
his lap, asleep. He moaned as he jacked himself off, licking his lips as he
breathed in the scent of Stiles, his hand on Stiles’ as, holding him up, his
fingers rubbing against him, through the fabric of his clothes. He breathed
heavily against Stiles’ hair as his pace quickened, spilling over his own hand.
With nothing within reach, he licked at his own fingers, cleaning himself up as
he attempted to control his breathing. Stiles shifted, turning his head so he
faced away from Rafa.
Rafa didn’t think as he brushed a come covered finger against Stiles’ lips, his
open mouth experimentally. He moaned as Stiles took the finger into his mouth
readily, sucking on it in his sleep, his tongue beneath the pad of Rafa’s
finger, moving against it, his mouth moving instinctively. Rafa rest his head
back against the couch, his mouth hanging open at the feel of Stiles’ warm, wet
mouth around his finger. Slowly, Rafa replaced his index finger with his
middle, slipping it further into Stiles’ mouth. Stiles stilled, his hands
gripping Rafa’s shirt tight, his mouth stilling for a moment, scaring Rafa into
thinking he had woken up. He thought he might have gone too far, so he backed
his finger up enough that Stiles began sucking once more.
He tucked himself back into his shorts, his hand going back up to Stiles’
spine. His hand covered almost the entirely of Stiles’ back, but his fingers
were feather light as he skimmed over Stiles’ body, finally cupping his ass.
Stiles’ breath hitched as Rafa became more brazen with his touches. Stiles let
out a small moan, his legs spreading instinctively as he sucked and sucked at
Rafa’s finger. Rafa teased himself by hooking a finger over the hem of Stiles’
shorts, tugging on them slightly before letting it go back, his hand remaining
on Stiles’ ass, fingers nestled between his legs. He could feel himself getting
hard again when the doorbell rang, startling him and Stiles.
He pulled his finger from Stiles’ mouth, replacing it with Stiles’ own thumb,
which he happily took into his mouth, his eyes fluttering open for only a
moment as Rafa stood, holding onto Stiles normally as he answered the door.
John stood there, looking into the dark living room. Rafa laughed, as he rubbed
at his eyes.
“Apparently the two of them can be a handful,” he feigned. “I set Scott down
for a nap then Stiles and I fell asleep on the couch.” The Sheriff looked at
them fondly, his eyes on Stiles as he reached out for his son. Rafa didn’t want
to let him go, but he knew he had to; Stiles wasn’t his. Stiles clung to him,
though, whining as John took him.
“Stiles, you know better than to suck your thumb,” John reprimanded as he took
it from Stiles’ mouth.
“Dad,” Stiles complained as he shoved his hands against his chest, frowning
with his entire face, groggy from being woken up.
“How was he?” John asked, cradling Stiles’ head in his hand. Rafa put his
fingers through his hair, stretching as if everything was fine.
“They were good, Melissa was at work, they played outside as I did yardwork...
he needs dinner though.”
“Good, I’ll probably make him hot dogs. He looks about done for the day.”
“They played hard,” Rafa said with a smile, waving goodbye as John headed for
his car. “Take care.”
With the door shut behind him, Rafa leaned against it, his head banging against
the back of the door as he thought about his finger in Stiles’ mouth, about the
feel of his ass against his hand. He didn’t know if he’d ever get that close
again, didn’t know if he’d have another chance.
***** Chapter 2 *****
Chapter Notes
     reminder this is fantasy like whoa. not real. i do not condone this
     irl.
Stiles spent a lot of time at the McCall’s. He was there when Rafa got home
from work, sitting at the dining room table with Scott, working on homework. He
stayed for dinner, most nights, until John came to pick him up just before
Scott took a bath. It was a constant reminded of what Rafa couldn’t have,
Stiles being so close.
“I just don’t understand why he can’t, I don’t know, switch off,” Rafa said
from the closet as he changed for bed. Melissa sat on their bed, shaking her
head.
“He’s trying his best, Raf,” Melissa told him. He knew, he knew that John was
trying. Fuck, his wife had died, of course he was trying to keep their lives
together but having Melissa and he raise him wasn’t the answer.
“Surely Scott has other friends,” Rafa stated as Melissa gave him a cold, hard
stare.
“Claudia was my best friend,” she said, heartbroken. “How could you say such a
thing about Stiles?” Rafa didn’t even look at her, he couldn’t. He was trying
to save himself, to save Stiles from him but that wouldn’t work. “You’re going
to pick them up at the bus stop tomorrow,” Melissa said. “I work until
midnight.”
“Fine,” Rafa stated.
“John needs a night off. Since it’s Friday, I told Scott that Stiles could
spend the night.” Rafa said nothing as he got into bed, thinking about Stiles
sleeping over. “So keep them occupied.”
“I will,” Rafa said as he turned out the light.
-
Stiles’ tear stained face as he got off the bus almost sent Rafa into a rage
blackout. He bent down, picking Stiles up, though he was well past the age for
it now, to check him for injuries.
“What happened?” Rafa asked as Stiles wiped at his eyes, his nose running.
Scott walked beside them, looking up at them.
“Bullies,” Scott said plainly as Stiles buried his face against Rafa’s collar,
smudging it with snot as he wrapped his arms around Rafa’s neck, his fingers
playing at the nape of his neck. Scott sighed, looking to the ground. “It
happens a lot.”
“I miss my mom,” Stiles said, his breath hot against Rafa’s neck. Rafa rubbed
his back idly as they walked towards the house, which was only a few houses
away.
“I know, kiddo,” Rafa said as he held him close. Once they got inside, he told
Scott to start his homework.
“It’s the weekend,” Scott complained. “We want to play.”
“This way you won’t have to do it on Sunday,” Rafa pointed out as he took
Stiles into the bathroom, sitting him down on the counter. With his legs
spread, his feet kicking against the cupboard below, Stiles watched as Rafa wet
a washcloth. He held the back of Stiles’ head as he wiped away his tears, his
snot covered lip.
“You can tell me anything, you know that, right?” Rafa asked as he wiped across
Stiles’ lips. Stiles nodded his head, his mouth open as he breathed, his nose
stuffed up from crying.
“Am I going to get bigger?” Stiles asked, his breath hitching in his throat as
he calmed down, as if he couldn’t breathe properly, like he had been sobbing.
Rafa rubbed Stiles’ back.
“You will,” Rafa said with a small smile, his thumb caressing Stiles’ cheek as
his hand cupped his face. Stiles closed his eyes as he bit his lip. “You’ll be
taller than your dad.”
Stiles laughed, probably because he didn’t believe Rafa, but he laughed just
the same. Without thinking, Rafa bent down and kissed Stiles on the forehead.
He stilled, his lips pressed against Stiles’ skin as he wondered what Stiles
would do. Stiles wrapped his arms around Rafa’s neck, clinging to him so that
he could be carried out of the bathroom.
“I think you can walk,” Rafa said. Stiles shimmied down Rafa’s body,
unsurprisingly not coming up past his waistline. That thought alone had Rafa
ushering Stiles out of the bathroom and towards the table so he could do his
homework. “You two do homework while I do mine, then we can go get pizza.”
“Pizza!” Both boys said, their faces lighting up and Stiles’ bad day seemingly
forgotten. Rafa changed out of his work clothes, putting his snot covered shirt
into the laundry basket, before he booted up his laptop to answer some emails.
The boys didn’t do their homework, so much as mess around until they complained
about how hungry they were. Rafa caved, mainly because of Stiles’ pout and
Scott’s puppy eyes, but he caved nonetheless.
Taking them out for pizza may have been a mistake. Stiles was not a clean
eater, and got sauce down the front of his shirt, despite being old enough to
handle holding a slice of pizza. Giving them soda, as well, meant that they
were bouncing off the walls by the time they got back home.
“Okay, okay,” Rafa said. “Time to change clothes, come on, into Scott’s room.”
Both boys raced up the stairs, knocking into the walls of the hallway on their
way up there. By the time Rafa got into Scott’s room, they were both striping
out of their clothes, tossing sauce and cheese covered shirts and shorts onto
the floor. “Pick those up, you know where they go,” Rafa said, crossing his
arms as he pretended he wasn’t watching Stiles who was already down to his
briefs.
“Let me see your faces and fingers,” Rafa said, holding out his own. Stiles
held his hands out, his fingers wiggling. No sauce. “You’re fine, Stiles,” Rafa
said, ruffling his hair. He did the same to Scott, making sure they were clean
enough for new clothes. “Let’s do pajamas.”
“No,” Stiles complained.
“Dad it’s too early,” Scott said with a pout.
“I didn’t say it was bedtime,” Rafa stated. “I said to put pjs on. I’m going to
put mine on, too. I’ll meet you two downstairs,” Rafa said, leaving them alone
to sort out their clothes. He walked down the hall and into his bedroom. He
left the bathroom door open a crack as he allowed himself to cup his erection,
his eyes closing. He should be used to this, to Stiles and to everything but he
wasn’t. He couldn’t get him out of his system, it was next to impossible.
Rafa let out a stifled moan as he felt his climax nearing. He just about had a
heartattack when the door creaked open, revealing Stiles, his hands on the
doorknob and his eyes wide as he watched. His climax rushed through his body as
he shuddered, coming onto his hand as he looked at Stiles.
“I’ll be down in a minute,” Rafa said, licking his fingers, not allowing Stiles
to see how fucked up he felt. Stiles stood there, his eyes locked on Rafa’s
hand as he nodded his head. Then he was gone.
Rafa washed his hands, then got into a pair of pajama bottoms. He went
barechested, because the night was warm. When he made his way downstairs, the
two boys were on the couch, in the middle of playing a video game.
“Only twenty minutes of game time left,” Rafa said, setting the timer. “Since
you started without telling me.” It had been Melissa’s idea to give Scott only
thirty minutes of video game time a day, something he had no issue with
enforcing.
“What? Why?” Scott asked, pausing the game as Rafa let the timer countdown.
“You know the timer needs to go when you start.”
“But Stiles is here,” Scott said, as if that would change things.
“Yeah, I don’t have a limit,” Stiles called out, though he wasn’t looking
towards Rafa.
“Here you do,” Rafa said. “You’re wasting your twenty minutes,” he reminded
Scott. They went back to playing until the timer went off. “Turn it off.”
“Ugh,” Scott said as he got off the couch to do just that, stomping his feet
dramatically as he went. “Now what.”
“Now you have enough time left to watch a movie before bedtime.”
“The Incredibles!” Stiles called out.
“I want to watch Balto,” Scott said, crossing his arms.
“You have to both decide on something, or I get to.”
“What do you want to watch?” Stiles asked.
“He watches grown up stuff like NCIS,” Scott said, crawling back onto the
couch. “Boring stuff.”
“We can watch Bolt,” Stiles said as a compromise.
“Okay!” Scott said, looking at his dad expectantly. Rafa smiled at them, then
got the movie ready to play. He sat down on the couch, on the end, out of their
way, then hit play.
Scott lasted thirty minutes before he was out, head on the armrest, his mouth
open. Stiles sat cross legged in the middle of the couch, forcing his eyes to
stay open. It wasn’t even nine yet, three hours before Melissa was due to be
home. Rafa thought to leave Stiles alone, to not instigate anything, that it
would be better, but his willpower crumbled as Stiles yawned, rubbing at his
eyes with his hands.
“Come here,” he urged, tugging on Stiles’ shirt. Stiles didn’t need goading, it
seemed, as he climbed into Rafa’s lap, his head resting on Rafa’s shoulder.
Rafa handed allowed himself to do this in a long time, holding Stiles in his
arms. Stiles burrowed against Rafa, not even watching the movie anymore. Rafa
rubbed Stiles’ back, sighing as Stiles’ hands gripped his shirt.
“I can hear your heart,” Stiles mumbled. Rafa held his breath as Stiles
resituated himself, his head nudging its way beneath Rafa’s chin. He could tell
there was a difference in Stiles, and no wonder, with the loss of his mother
and a father who would rather work than look at a son who resembled his mom so
clearly. Rafa cupped Stiles’ face in his hands, forcing Stiles to look at him.
Stiles sat there, allowing Rafa to move him as he pleased, his fingers still
clenching around Rafa’s shirt as he sat straddling Rafa’s lap. Rafa placed a
kiss on Stiles’ forehead, letting out a shaky breath. Stiles’ eyes closed, his
body limp in Rafa’s arms. He did it again, then on Stiles’ cheek, wanting to
envelope him in an embrace, wanting to do more to him but stopping himself.
“My dad says I’m getting bigger,” Stiles said, looking down at his hands. Rafa
didn’t know where Stiles was headed, but as Stiles looked up at him, at his
lips, Rafa’s stomach clenched. “I’m taller than Scott now.”
“You’re growing up,” Rafa conceded, running his thumb over Stiles’ lips. Stiles
sat up straighter, proud of that fact. “Such a big boy.” Stiles grinned, but it
fell quickly.
“My mom won’t get to see me grow up,” Stiles said, curling in on himself.
Rafa’s heartstrings tugged as his face dipped down, his lips brushing over
Stiles’, stealing his first kiss from him. He was so tiny against Rafa, his
mouth not knowing what to do. Stiles stilled beneath him until Rafa moved his
lips, unable to take back what he’d just done. He held one hand behind Stiles’
head, the other sliding down his back, holding his ass, pressing his small body
against Rafa’s. When Rafa ended the kiss, Stiles chased after him, not knowing
what to do. He mouthed at Rafa’s chin, his hands coming up to hold onto his
cheeks, mimicking Rafa’s hold on him earlier.
“That’s a grown up kiss,” Stiles said. “Like what parents do.”
“You said you were bigger,” Rafa said, hoping it made sense to Stiles. “So you
get grown up kisses.”
Stiles pressed his lips against Rafa’s, his tongue even darting out of his
mouth. There was no finesse as Rafa allowed Stiles to do as he pleased, take
what he wanted. Stiles pecked at his cheeks, at his mouth. It wasn’t until Rafa
couldn’t take it anymore, his own tongue sliding against Stiles’ willing mouth,
that Stiles let out his first moan. Stiles stopped kissing him, burying his
face against Rafa’s neck as he wrapped his arms around him.
“I’m sorry,” Stiles cried out, clinging to him. “I didn’t mean to.”
“Didn’t mean to what?” Rafa asked, calming him by rubbing his back.
“I-- I--,” Stiles stammered, a hand reaching down between them. All the blood
in Rafa’s head rushed south at the implication. Stiles had an erection, and had
one from kissing Rafa.
“Shh, shh,” Rafa said, patting Stiles’ back. “It’s alright, Stiles.” Stiles
sniffled, looking up at him with such trusting eyes. “Even adults get those.”
“Really? Stiles asked. Rafa nodded his head.
“It means we like someone,” Rafa stated. Stiles, shy, looked down at Rafa’s
lap, his fingers trailing over Rafa’s obvious erection. “See?” Stiles nodded
his head, his hand moving to his own erection, touching himself as he bit his
lip.
“My dad said they just happen,” Stiles stated. “Like how when I wake up in the
morning, I have to keep changing my sheets.”
Rafa’s breath hitched in his throat at the thought of Stiles having wet dreams
at nine, that he could already be starting puberty. Scott hadn’t, yet. Rafa
thought Stiles--
“That’s normal,” Rafa said.
“Scott doesn’t do it,” Stiles said, looking distraught. “I asked him.”
“He will, you’re just growing faster than he is,” Rafa said, touching Stiles’
lips once more. “Do you ever touch yourself?” Stiles shrugged. “Do you know
how?”
“Yes,” Stiles said, indignantly. “Dad said not to use socks.” Rafa laughed,
nodding his head as he imagined John having that conversation with Stiles.
“Don’t use socks, but tissues.”
“Oh,” Stiles said, his face reddening as he bit his lip. “So adults use
tissues?” Stiles asked.
“Or other things,” Rafa said, thinking about how depraved he was, wanting to
get Stiles off. Instead of saying anything else, Stiles leaned forward, kissing
Rafa again. “Want to see?” Stiles nodded his head, his mouth over Rafa’s. Rafa
stood up easily with Stiles in his arms, leaving Scott asleep on the couch. It
was still early, there was still time before Melissa came home.
He took Stiles up into the master bedroom, laying him down onto the bed. Stiles
sat there, not knowing what to do. Rafa kissed him again, loving the taste of
him in his mouth. He was so trusting. He hooked his fingers around Stiles’
sleep pants, sliding them down his thighs, revealing his erection. Without a
word, Rafa bent over, licking at it. Stiles whined, his fingers digging into
Rafa’s scalp as he held onto his hair, shaking as Rafa took him into his mouth,
savoring the taste.
“Mr. Rafa,” Stiles cried out, spilling down his throat. The thin liquid was
next to nothing on the tip of his tongue, but knowing that Stiles just came in
his mouth made Rafa hard. When Rafa looked up at him, Stiles had tears in his
eyes.
“Shh, Stiles,” Rafa said, wiping at his cheeks. “That felt good, didn’t it?”
Stiles nodded his head as he clung to him. “It makes you feel good.”
“I-- I didn’t know that could happen when awake,” Stiles stammered. Rafa smiled
at him, his thumb pressing against Stiles mouth. Stiles looked up at him as he
sucked at it.
“Do you want to make me feel good, Stiles?” Rafa asked. Stiles nodded his head,
his cheeks red. “I want you to make that happen to me too. Do you think you can
do that?”
“I don’t know how.” Rafa sat on the bed, his legs spread as he unzipped his
pants, unable to think about anything except Stiles’ wide eyes and wet mouth.
Stiles got off the bed, standing before it as Rafa took his own cock in hand,
stroking it a few times before Stiles reached out, touching it. Rafa moaned at
the touch, of his small hands wrapping around his girth. His fingers barely
touched around him, and as he licked, the size of his mouth next to Rafa’s cock
was astounding.
“Just like that,” Rafa sighed, running his fingers through Stiles’ hair as he
licked and licked. “Don’t use your teeth, okay?” Stiles nodded his head, trying
to put the head of Rafa’s cock into his mouth. He got the head in, but couldn’t
put much more in at all. It was enough, though, with the vision of Stiles’
mouth wide around his cock to bring Rafa’s climax closer.
When Rafa came, Stiles coughed, making a face at the taste of him. Rafa
laughed, pulling Stiles up into his lap, kissing him, tasting himself on
Stiles’ lips. Stiles held onto him, letting Rafa’s tongue slip into his mouth.
“This will be our secret,” Rafa said. Stiles nodded his head, kissing Rafa
again. After putting Stiles’ pajamas back on him, he held Stiles in his arms,
taking him back downstairs. The movie ended, with Scott still asleep on the
couch. When Rafa sat down, flipping over to the TV, Stiles made himself
comfortable in Rafa’s lap until he fell asleep in his arms.
***** Chapter 3 *****
Chapter Notes
     thanks for reading, and for those of you who subscribed.
     warning: this fic contains what is listed in the tags in an extremely
     underage situation. if that squicks you in the slightest, do not
     read.
     this is pure fantasy. i in now way condone this in a real setting.
Rafa worked later and later, drank more and more as time went on. It was almost
too much, knowing that Stiles was at his house with Melissa, spending the night
on Friday nights, on various nights of the week when John worked nights.
He shouldn’t have given in, allowed himself the pleasure of defiling Stiles.
Now, whenever Stiles was over, he climbed onto Rafa’s lap, his mouth seeking
Rafa’s without preamble. Trying to explain to him why he couldn’t do that with
Melissa’s watchful eye, or even Scott’s, had been difficult.
“We can’t kiss like adults anymore, Stiles,” Rafa said, pushing Stiles’ small
hands off of him one evening. Stiles looked hurt, his eyebrows furrowed, his
mouth wet with Rafa’s spit from kissing.
“Why?” Stiles asked, his fingers clenched around Rafa’s shirt. “I’ll be good, I
promise.” Rafa melted, giving in. Stiles wanted more, wanted to be kissed, to
be debauched by him. He sought out Rafa’s touch. “Please,” he begged. He was
growing, faster than Scott, his body lanky, his fingers longer.
“You’re such a big boy,” Rafa said. Stiles beamed at him with a toothy grin, a
few missing. His last baby teeth gone. They were going to middle school next
year, and Rafa knew that his time with Stiles, where he was still innocent as
to what Rafa was really doing to him.
So Rafa drank to forget the feel of Stiles beneath his fingertips, how he
tasted, how he moaned and panted as Rafa sucked his little cock.
By the time Rafa came home one Friday night, he was just on the edge between a
full body buzz and smashed. He loosened his tie as he made his way up the
stairs, swaying as he went. Instead of going to his room, where Melissa was
surely asleep in their bed, he opened the door to Scott’s room. He and Stiles
lay curled up on the bed together.
Rafa sighed, trying to talk himself out of what he wanted. It was as if his
feet moved forward without his consent, his arms reaching out for Stiles,
picking him up off the bed. He was heavy, now, heavier than when he first laid
his hands on Stiles. He took Stiles downstairs, laying him down on the couch
before he undid his work pants, making it easy for himself later.
He ran his fingers through Stiles’ hair, then pressed his thumb inwards against
Stiles’ mouth, making him suck on it. His body reacted to the feeling, a harsh
grab at Stiles’ crotch reminding him that he wasn’t sober, but he wanted. He
was going to take everything from Stiles.
Rafa stripped off Stiles’ clothes, situating him on the couch so that he was on
his stomach, his legs over the edge of the cushions, showing off his perfect
ass. He hadn’t been here before, saving it for when he was ready, when Stiles
was ready. Still small, but not as small as before, Rafa couldn’t wait any
longer for Stiles to grow.
First, he took his cock and rubbed it against the cleft of Stiles’ ass, his
eyes closing as he imagined himself fucking him. Rafa’s eyes opened. He had an
idea. Standing up, he walked into the kitchen, grabbing the nyquil. It was
adult strength, but he knew if he wanted Stiles to stay asleep, that children’s
wouldn’t be strong enough.
He poured a small capful then fed it to Stiles, who stirred as Rafa tilted his
head back enough.
“Drink this,” Rafa urged him. “It will make you feel good.”
“I don’t like it,” Stiles complained, his hands swatting at Rafa, attempting to
stop him. In the end, it went down anyways. Groggily, Stiles lay pliant on the
couch, his face set in a pout as Rafa got to his knees. “What are you doing?”
Stiles asked, craning his neck to watch as Rafa brushed a thumb over his hole.
“That’s-- that’s, my dad said not to touch there.”
“Hmm, baby boy, this is only where adults can touch,” Rafa said, soothing
Stiles’ bare back. “Like kissing.” Stiles whined, his legs spreading
instinctively as Rafa pushed his asscheeks apart. Rafa watched as Stiles’ eyes
closed, even though he attempted to keep them open. “That’s it, baby, feel that
drowsiness kick in.” He bent over, swiping his tongue over Stiles’ tight hole;
perfect. Stiles squirmed, trying to get up, but Rafa put a hand over his lower
back, keeping him in place, his tongue lapping at him again, enjoying the
feeling of Stiles struggle against him, panting as Rafa wet his hole.
“Please,” Stiles begged, though he wasn’t sure what for.
“Give in to it, Stiles,” Rafa encouraged him. “Have I hurt you before?” Stiles
hesitated, then shook his head. “Let me have this,” Rafa said before delving
his tongue in deeper, making Stiles shout. That wouldn’t do, not with Melissa
upstairs. She slept light, would hear Stiles’ cries. Rafa took his tie the rest
of the way off, putting it into Stiles’ mouth. Stiles fought against him now.
Rafa groaned when he realized that he didn’t have lube downstairs for Stiles,
and he needed it desperately. He took out the gag, smoothing his hand down
Stiles’ back, kissing at his ear, his cheek until Stiles calmed down, his eyes
closing.
He was asleep once more.
Rafa went upstairs, into he and Melissa’s room, going into the bathroom for the
lube. When he emerged, Melissa turned over in bed.
“Raf, what are you doing, its three in the morning,” she said, her voice low.
She looked to the lube, then back up at him.
“I was going to-- jack off.” Melissa groaned, waving at him.
“Don’t wrack up the cable bill,” she said into her pillow. “And clean up
afterwards, I don’t want the boys wondering what’s wrong.” Rafa grinned as he
shut the door behind him. When he got downstairs, he turned on the TV, finding
the first porn he could. Something about cheerleaders. Stiles didn’t move at
the noise, or the light, and now Rafa could actually see what he was doing with
the young boy.
His cock leaked as he slicked up a finger, pressing it against Stiles’ opening.
Stiles moved at the intrusion, whimpering as Rafa pushed inwards. He almost
came at the feeling of Stiles’ tight ass around his finger. He moved his finger
in and out, giving short thrusts as he smeared the lube around. Stiles whined,
his arms moving back, limply pushing at Rafa’s hand; the nyquil already kicked
in. Stiles was his to take.
Rafa picked up Stiles’ hand, taking two fingers into his mouth, sucking them as
he fucked Stiles with his finger. He added more lube, slowly opening him up. He
pulled back, admiring the look of lube, shiny around Stiles hole, some
trickling down his thighs. Rafa bent over, taking the meat of Stiles’ ass into
his mouth and sucking, nuzzling his nose at his entrance before he tried two
fingers. It was tight, almost unbearably so as he pushed inwards. Stiles’ face
scrunched up in pain as Rafa slid his free hand up and down Stiles’ spread
thighs, tugging on his little cock, which was hard as it hung down between his
legs. Rafa pulled his fingers out, then took his cock in hand, rubbing it
against Stiles’ entrance, shoving his head into the small hole. It wouldn’t
fit, but the feel of his tight heat against the head of Rafa’s cock was enough.
He came onto it, spilling over Stiles’ ass and lower back.
Rafa licked it clean, lapping at it as he pressed some of it inwards, fucking
Stiles with his own come. He took Stiles’ cock in hand, jacking him off, making
Stiles come into his hand in a small, liquidy streak.
After fucking Stiles with his fingers for what felt like hours, Rafa poured
more lube onto his ass, watching it drip down the cleft of it before fucking
into him, this time with three fingers, opening him wide. He pulled back,
watching Stiles’ ass close up. His cock ached, dripping once more with need.
Almost.
He bent over Stiles’ breathing harshly in his ear as he mouthed at Stiles’
neck, fucking him with his fingers as he rut against Stiles’ thighs, rubbing
his cock along them. He couldn’t hold back any long as he took Stiles’ ass into
his hands, spreading his cheeks wide as he lined himself up. He pushed inwards
slowly, moaning as he forced himself inwards. He held onto Stiles’ small waist,
watching his cock disappear within him. Stiles’ limp body took him, though not
easily.
Once inside him, Rafa sucked at his shoulder, his massive hands caressing his
body. After years of pining, of watching, of touching, Stiles was completely
his to destroy. He moved within him, barely able to slide because Stiles was so
tight. He should have waited, should have given him more time to adjust, but he
couldn’t. All willpower lost, Rafa fucked into him. Stiles whimpered beneath
him, waking up from the movement, surely from the pain. Rafa pulled out of him,
flipping Stiles onto his back, spreading his legs wide as he entered him again.
Stiles opened his eyes, blinking before he tried to get away, his mouth open in
a silent plea. Rafa covered Stiles’ mouth with his hand as he bucked his hips,
unable to slow his pace. Now that Stiles was his, he couldn’t hold back. He
mouthed at his hand, covering Stiles’ whimpers as tears streamed down his face,
his hands grasping at Rafa’s grip on him, neck craning in order to get away.
“You’re so good for me,” Rafa said as Stiles moaned beneath him. “You feel
perfect beneath me, so tight. You’re mine, now. You always will be.” Stiles
cried, grasping for Rafa’s shirt. “I’ll uncover your mouth if you promise not
to scream.” He let go of Stiles’ mouth, hung open with his tongue sticking out,
his eyes wide.
“It hurts,” Stiles said as Rafa cupped his face, slowing his thrusts, pushing
in to the hilt so he was completely inside of him, fucking full. Stiles arched
his back as he panted, his fingers searching for something to hold onto, his
head turning towards Rafa’s palm, burrowing into it for comfort. “It hurts.”
“It won’t for long, baby,” Rafa promised, kissing Stiles on the lips. Stiles’
tongue delved into Rafa’s mouth desperately as Rafa engulfed him. He whined
against Rafa’s lips, obviously still in pain though his hands clenched around
Rafa’s shirt, wanting to stay close. Rafa carded his fingers through Stiles’
hair, soothing his pleas. “I’m going to come inside you, fill you up. You’ll
miss it once my cock’s out of you.”
Rafa licked Stiles’ tears as he quickened his pace, covering Stiles’ mouth with
his hand once more as he came within him, filling him completely. As Rafa
pulled out, he pushed up at Stiles’ thighs, folding him in half easily to give
him access to Stiles’ ass. Stiles scrambled, grasping at his legs as Rafa
licked his abused hole. It was red, raw, and dripping wet with Rafa’s come.
Stiles sobbed as Rafa sucked at it, his tongue lapping at the hole. He quieted
as Rafa lowered him, pulling him into his arms. Stiles wrapped his legs and
arms around him, so trusting as Rafa sat on the couch, his cock spent.
“All mine,” Rafa said, kissing Stiles on the lips, sharing his come with
Stiles, who sucked at his tongue like he was taught to do. He reached between
Stiles’ legs as they kissed, pressing a finger against his used hole. Stiles
squirmed, moaning into Rafa’s mouth.
“Please, it hurts,” Stiles said, burrowing his face against Rafa’s neck. Rafa
massaged his entrance, rubbing his fingers against it as Stiles rolled his
small hips against him.
“You’ll learn to love it. You were made for this, to take it.” Rafa kissed his
forehead as Stiles took two of Rafa’s fingers, all on his own, and put them
into his mouth to suck on. “That’s it, baby. That’s it.”
Stiles was his to mold, now. There was no going back. He could do anything he
wished, and Stiles would accept it. Rafa grinned, kissing Stiles on the cheek
as he sucked on his fingers, a finger slipping into him once more. Stiles cried
out, but Rafa didn’t stop. He could feel Stiles’ erection pressing against him,
rubbing as he moved his hips.
“You’ll learn.”
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