Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/ works/713313. Rating: Explicit Archive Warning: Underage Category: F/M Fandom: Teen_Wolf_(TV) Relationship: Scott_McCall/Stiles_Stilinski Character: Scott_McCall_(Teen_Wolf), Stiles_Stilinski Additional Tags: Trans_Female_Character, Plot_What_Plot/Porn_Without_Plot, Oral_Sex, Rimming, Alternate_Universe, Underage_Sex, Sexual_Humor Stats: Published: 2013-03-09 Words: 2748 ****** Set To Music ****** by Manna_di_San_Nicola Summary Scott shows Stiles the advantages of living bodies over dead ones that fateful night and changes the course of their destinies and sex life. Title from an E. Joseph Crossmann quote, "Love is friendship set to music." that I found via Google ten minutes ago. Notes This is technically for a prompt, found here (http:// teenwolfkink.livejournal.com/5710.html?thread=4115278#t4115278), but was mostly finished because today is International Women's Day and, while it has warmed my heart to see the inclusive messages on Tumblr, nothing satisfies my vindictive nature quite like releasing a story starring a trans* woman to commemorate a day wherein (if far too many radical feminists had their way) trans* women would be alienated and treated as deceitful male rapists who apparently have nothing better to do than completely change their lives and receive irreversible surgery solely to make women uncomfortable. In any case, I hope the OP enjoys it. When Scott had first met Stiles back in the fifth grade, he’d thought she was the coolest girl in the whole world. He’d been the new kid in Beacon Hills back then, so he’d acted like a total moron just from that shyness, let alone this random girl just marching up to him in the cafeteria and chatting with him. When he’d been able to think again and heard what she was chatting about, the Knightfall arc in Batman that had come out, like, when he was born, he’d turned into a totally different (but no less amazed) moron. By the end of that lunch period, he was pretty sure she’d become the best friend he’d ever had. They’d been joined at the hip ever since.   Some times more than others. Scott usually had to do some pull-ups or something to distract himself from thinking about those times before he started having an asthma attack.   Other times, though, Scott had to rethink the ‘coolest girl in the world’ thing. Like right then and there, because it did weird things for how manly he felt to have his girlfriend rush up to his room, flushed and panting and everything, and have her take five minutes to notice that he was totally shirtless and working out because ‘oh my God, Scott, my dad got a call, there’s a frickin’ body in the woods, this is so cool, we have to go there and find it right now!’   Okay, maybe not that valley girl, but still. He was seriously rethinking the ‘giving her a house key’ thing.   “What, like a dead body?”   Stiles rolled her eyes; she did that a lot, so Scott just took the moment to enjoy how much prettier she was when she was in a rush and didn’t have time to put on all her hard rock makeup shit. “No, a body of water. Yes, a dead body, dumb ass!” She meant it with love, really. “Some joggers found it a little bit… Why are you shirtless?”   Finally!   He wasn’t good at playing it cool, but he tried. He shrugged, moving his arms up more than he had to so he could feel his chest (it was a pretty decent chest) move and tried not to smirk when Stiles’s eyes went there. “Told you I’m going to make first line this year. Can’t do that without work.”   Stiles was pretty much the only person who liked lacrosse as much as Scott. He was pretty sure most of what she knew was because of Jackson Whittemore and the weird ‘we’re totally just hanging out because my dad’s arguing for you to the school board, we’re not actually friends’ thing he and she had had since before Scott had even known them, but Stiles would never admit that any time soon.   “First line, huh?” Stiles whistled like she was amazed, trying not to look like she was trying not to look at Scott’s torso. “Big shot. Try to remember the little people when you’re up on Mount Olympus.”   “Yeah, well…” Scott raised his arm to scratch behind his head, flexing a little. Totally by accident. He grinned at her. “… I’m just doing it so I can impress this girl I like.”   Stiles leaned against his doorframe, checking her Batman nail polish designs that had taken for-frickin’-ever and nobody but Scott even saw. “Dude, hate to be that friend, but this girl sounds pretty high-maintenance if you have to be first line to impress her.” She pulled a face like she’d just realized something. “Oh my God, is it Lydia? I feel your pain, we all want to have sex with her, but I’m pretty sure even if having her rock your world didn’t kill you, Jackson would.”   “But, Stiles, she’s just so strawberry blonde! I’m powerless!” Scott moved across his room and pulled her up against him, fingers splayed on her hips, brushing where her t-shirt ended and her skirt began. “Seriously, you know the girl’s you, right?”   There she went again, rolling her eyes. “I was kind of hoping, yeah.” She moved her hands to match his, thumbs moving up and down on his skin in a way that kind of tickled, actually. “You seriously know I’m not going for prom queen any time soon and will still go to every game of the season even if you never move from the bench, right?”   Scott nodded against her cheek. “I kind of… want to impress me too, if that makes sense. Like, turn my life around.” At least, the parts of his life he wasn’t holding in his arms; he was great with those parts.   “You couldn’t self-actualize with a hobby that won’t end with your lungs exploding, Asthma Boy? I’ve heard great things about knitting!” Stiles sighed; he fidgeted a bit at the way her breath tickled his ear. “Well, on the plus side, worrying about you and my dad is probably shaving years off my life every day, so when you assholes finally do self-destruct, I won’t be alone for long.”   Scott did his best to hide rolling his own eyes because, seriously, who was it who’d burst in saying they should look for a dead body like that was so safe? But saying that out loud would remind Stiles of the dead body and Scott liked where they were a lot better than the idea of the woods. “How about this: scout’s honour--”   “You hated being a boy scout.”   “--I promise that I will eat lots of… of yogurt and leafy greens and anything I think even might have antioxidants in it before tryouts and every practice.”   Stiles just looked at him for a second. Then she gave a little smile. “Dude, I knew you read my print-outs. ‘I don’t need these, Stiles’, ‘My mom’s a nurse, Stiles’, I see right through you, you thought it was a romantic gesture and you loved it.”   He’d known Stiles for three days before she’d found out he had asthma and gave him twenty printed copies of health and fitness website snippets, so he probably hadn’t thought it was that romantic. It had been kind of cool to have a friend that cared that much, though.   “Yup. The handouts were what sealed the deal, really. I mean, my mom’s a nurse; I couldn’t be the boyfriend of a girl who doesn’t know more about everything that’s ever been written about asthma ever than me.”   Stiles just looked at him again, but not in the fond way. “Dude, don’t compare me to your mom.”   Scott could feel his eyes trying to pop out. “Oh, God, I didn’t mean it like that!”   “Thanks for ruining the moment, Oedipus.”   Some times, Stiles made references Scott doesn’t get. Stiles never begrudged him for it or anything like that, never made him feel stupid (he wasn’t stupid, he wasn’t), but it still made him have these really dark moments of wondering what she was doing with him and how much happier she’d be with (well, probably not Jackson, no matter how much everybody whispers about them) someone smarter, maybe Camera Guy Matt from lacrosse, he liked obscure stuff, he’d get her…   He hadn’t been to therapy in a while, but he was pretty sure his old therapist would have said thinking like that was his dad’s fault. And probably would say the same thing about how much he wanted to be first line.   Lips. And… root beer flavoured lip-gloss, oh, Stiles was kissing him! Scott tilted his head and started kissing back, nibbling her lip because she liked things rough some times. They moved against each other until Scott felt like he was going to burst and, for once, he didn’t even care that he ran out of breath more quickly than other guys. “Wow…. Uh, what was that for?”   Stiles shrugged and Scott had a feeling she could tell everything he’d been thinking. “You’re shirtless, therefore I’m horny. Sue me.”       “Really not complaining.” He smiled widely. “How far are you okay with going?” Scott let his thumb slide under her shirt, trying to soothe the scrunched up look the discussion always put on her face.    Stiles huffed out a breath. “I’m good with all the way, I think?” Some days were better than others; honestly, it bothered Scott way more to see how frustrated Stiles got with her own changing boundaries than it did to respect them. “Whatever; if I start freaking out, I’ll just wait until I’m calm and suck you off.”   Scott let out his own frustrated noise. “If you start freaking out, we stop. Okay? No bullshit guilt about leaving me ‘hanging’ or whatever, just end of sentence stop.”   They just looked at each other, waiting for the other to give; Scott could let Stiles get away with a lot, but her wellbeing wasn’t up for negotiation.   “… Heh. Don’t you just love these spontaneous moments of passion?” She pulled away from him and went over to his bed, laying herself out so that her skirt rode up and showed more of her tights.   He didn’t look away from her face for a second. “Wouldn’t trade them for the world.”   Stiles gave, in the way she gulped and looked away, trying to hide that she was touched. Some times, Scott thought with a smile, he got her better than anybody.   “… Okay, so far, you’ve made me horny andgushy, so this night better end with chocolate or you doing me or I’m revoking your best boyfriend card.”   Scott walked forward and joined Stiles on the bed, covering her body with his. “I didn’t even know I had a card…” He returned his hand to where it had been sneaking under her shirt and pushed the fabric up, sliding himself down so he could kiss her skin. “I’d better step up my game.”   “Damn right, Mr. Big Shot First Liner.” Stiles reached down and brushed his hand away so she could finish the job of making her shirt no longer an obstacle. He loved this, being able to see the way she had started to turn from lines to curves, seeing that she was going right. He also always liked being able to see her bra (which she kept saying was basically useless, even though an A-cup was notnothing), but that was just him being a horndog.   “Shit, forgot I was wearing this ugly-ass beige thing.”   Scott smiled brightly. “Don’t feel like you have to keep it on for my sake.”   “I don’t even have tits, what could you possibly be perving —”   The first time Scott had stuck his tongue in Stiles’s belly button, he hadn’t really been sure what he’d thought would happen; it didn’t do anything for Scott to have his played with, but something about Stiles mentioning once that the navel and the genitals were made from the same tissue had intrigued him. And, as it turned out, it worked for her.   Enough so that Scott wasn’t above using it against her to avoid the ‘you do have boobs and they’re awesome’ argument. Even if he did feel guilty afterwards.   “That’s… ha… cheating… fuck… asshole…”   Scott decided to continue with the theme of ‘below the belt’ and crept slowly further downward, pressing his lips against the waistband of her skirt, breathing in the smell of whatever shaving cream she’d used on her trail. He looked up into her eyes.   “You okay?”   Stiles lurched forward to rub her hand through his hair. “Boldly go, Captain.”   Scott kind of doubted even the most uptight loser would consider sucking his girlfriend’s dick the ‘final frontier’, but permission was permission.   His hands moved to her thighs and slid up under her skirt, squeezing her butt the tiniest bit. His fingers found the top of her tights, just a bit above her gaff, and started working it down. He smiled as she squirmed from the way the brushing against her skin tickled and took hold of the thong when he found it. When her underwear and tights were practically around her knees, Scott took a moment to just look; he figured Stiles would appreciate the time to breathe, because no way having a boner in a gaff was fun.   Even at her most revved up, the anti-androgens Stiles took meant she didn’t really make pre-come, so she wasn’t wet or sticky or anything. Unlike Scott, but that wasn’t important. What was important was correcting her not being wet, so he took a long swipe up her shaft with his tongue.   “Oh my God! So good with all the way!”   Scott smiled like it was Christmas and went to town. He wasn’t sure if he was using his tongue too much, but at least he was careful with his teeth and made sure to use his hands; he loved when Stiles used her hands. But Stiles did use hand lotions, so maybe she had an unfair advantage.   Speaking of hands, Scott found himself letting one slide down under her sac to massage her perineum (Stiles wasn’t the only one who could do research), just to see what happened. Turned out what happened was a really nice noise and a twitch like the one Stiles had faked after they’d touched the museum’s Van de Graaf generator during their eighth grade field trip.   “Whew. Okay. That was a definite hot damn, but you’re a bit under-equipped if you’re planning on going any further south.”   Scott pouted for a moment (under-equipped? Ouch), but thankfully realized she meant not having lube. Then he smiled even more brightly as an idea hit. “I think I’m just the right amount of equipped.” Then he gave her hole a lick.   They’d never tried rimming before, so he probably should have seen Stiles almost snapping her legs shut from pure shock coming, but it turned out his reaction time was getting pretty impressive. “Whoa, sorry. This okay?”   “Scott, if you don’t put your tongue back in my ass, lacrosse won’t get the chance to kill you.”   “Yes, ma’am!” The entire process was so neat; the way it flexed when Scott licked it, the way Stiles made noises like the cats at Dr. Deaton’s clinic, the way (and this part was maybe a bit weird, but whatever) the tightness felt around Scott’s tongue. “We should do this way more.”   Stiles made another cat noise.   “I love hearing you talk, but when you’re like this…” Scott rubbed his nose into her scrotum, tickling himself with the small amount of pubic hair she hadn’t (couldn’t?) shave away. “… buzzing so badly that you can’t even make words, God, Stiles, knowing you let me do that to you, that you trust me that much, fuck…” He wrapped his lips around her cock and gulped.   He didn’t even realize he’d come until Stiles was finished riding the wave of her orgasm.   “Huh. Your jizz tastes like cinnamon. What the heck are you eating?”   The love of his life half-heartedly whacked him, then snatched one of his pillows. “No more sweet nothings, you insatiable beast.” To avenge his stolen pillow, Scott wrapped his arms around Stiles’s middle and rested his head on her ugly (but comfy) bra.   When Scott woke up the next morning, he didn’t find it weird that Stiles wasn’t there: his mom and Stiles’s dad might work late, but they’d still notice an extra (or lacking) teen in their respective houses and they hadn’t been quite as understanding about Scott and Stiles having sleepovers since they’d developed hormones.    Speaking of hormones, Scott made a face as he pulled off his come-stained boxers and tossed them at the hamper. It wasn’t less embarrassing, but hopefully his mom would just think he’d dreamt of Stiles so they didn’t have to have the ‘you gave your girlfriend a key’ talk and the connected ‘you’re taking advantage of my late shifts to have sex’ talk.   Once he’d showered away how much he’d enjoyed rimming Stiles and gotten dressed, Scott remembered that it was tryouts day. And he felt on top of the world.   Just in time to get a call from Stiles.   “Scott? Dude, I’m so sorry…”   “For what? I know the drill on having to sneak out…”   “No, not even. I can’t come watch you try out today.”   “… Stiles. What’s wrong?”   “I’m… I’m not coming to school today. Remember that call I came over about? The body the police were looking for in the woods?”   “You’re freaking me out, baby…”   “Scott, something in the woods attacked my dad.” Please drop_by_the_archive_and_comment to let the author know if you enjoyed their work!