Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/707543.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Teen_Wolf_(TV)
  Relationship:
      Scott_McCall/Stiles_Stilinski, mentions_of_Scott_McCall/Allison_Argent
  Additional Tags:
      First_Time, Blow_Jobs, Hand_Jobs, Infidelity
  Stats:
      Published: 2013-03-04 Words: 2291
****** To See What It Feels Like ******
by orbiting_saturn
Summary
     And Stiles does want to know everything. Sometimes he looks at Scott
     like he wants to crawl under his skin and pick apart all of the
     things that make him work.
There’s always been something off-colored about Stiles’ humor. It isn’t just
sarcastic, but on the verge of mean sometimes. Yet, even when Stiles is being
cynical and crude and thoughtlessly off-the-cuff, Scott warms with humor. He
probably shouldn’t like it, just how nasty Stiles can be, but he does. He likes
Stiles, has always liked Stiles, even when he’s getting steered in the wrong
direction by his impulsive need to see, hear, know everything ever.
And Stiles does want to know everything. Sometimes he looks at Scott like he
wants to crawl under his skin and pick apart all of the things that make him
work. But he looks at a lot of people that way.
It’s gotten more desperate since the bite, that gleam in Stiles’ eye, the
squinting, burning curiosity running Scott over with a barely banked fervor.
Stiles tries to hide it behind more jokes, “just to see what it feels like”
once and also “a mouth is a mouth, bro” or “s’matter, Scotty? Don’t you think
I’m pretty?”
Scott does and he doesn’t. He’s pretty sure he isn’t gay or even bi. When Danny
came out, Scott pondered the idea. He’s let his own gaze linger overlong on
other guys and there’s nothing about it that does it for him. Stiles is a
different creature entirely.
Stiles has been nudged up against Scott for so long, it’s almost like he’s an
extension of himself really. The scent, the feel and the sight of him is
something so familiar that it makes this new beast in him curl up contentedly
or growl menacingly in the next second. He can love Stiles in one moment and
hate him in the very next and it’s a kind of feeling that goes so far beyond
gender.
So the next time Stiles brings it up, Scott rolls his eyes, puts their video
game on pause and says, “All right already. If it’ll shut you up, lets do it.”
A long beat of silence follows and Scott can’t resist turning and taking Stiles
in.
Stiles is staring at him, mouth fallen open in shock and eyes wide, dark lashes
flicking up and down. They look soft and fragile. Stiles looks soft and fragile
in ways that make the wolf want to stretch and claw.
They’re both sprawled out in matching beanbag chairs, but Stiles’ limbs look
long and lean in their awkward splay. His legs are thrown open, knees raised
and parted like they are inviting Scott to slip between them. It’s guileless
and familiar, nothing like the way Allison spreads herself out for Scott, all
grace and knowing eyes.
“Dude, seriously?” Stiles finally stutters out. “It was a joke, man. I mean
obviously, I didn’t mean anything by it.”
Scott huffs a sigh and rolls his eyes again. “Then why do you keep bringing it
up?”
“’Cause of your face, man,” Stiles says and twists his features up in this
mockery of round-eyed exasperation. It also makes him look like an idiot, so
Scott swats him in the chest with the back of his hand.
In the next second though, Scott is turning his hand into Stiles’ chest,
getting a gripful of t-shirt and hauling him over. Stiles comes to him with a
surprised squawk, landing in a graceless tangle over Scott. His pointy elbow
catches Scott in the rib, but it’s fine because the rest of him is pressed down
warm and close on top of Scott.
While Stiles struggles to right himself, Scott curves one hand around the base
of his skull, palms his hip and pulls them closer together and into a more
comfortable position. “Just do it, Stiles,” he says, when he finally has his
friend looking down at him. “You want to know, right? So satisfy your
curiosity. I really don’t mind.”
“Ooookay,” Stiles drawls slowly, sucking in his lips nervously. They look so
soft and pink, like they could be girls lips for all that Stiles feels firm and
boyish on top of him.
When Stiles shifts around over him, his elbow makes the vinyl of the beanbag
squeak, makes the little Styrofoam pellets shift with a slight shush. One of
his legs slips between Scott’s.
Stiles tilts down, grazes his lips over Scott’s so lightly it’s barely even
there. He can feel Stiles trembling a little and isn’t sure if it’s from the
strain of holding himself up like this or if he’s scared or excited. The next
kiss is a little more firm, their lips pressing and giving a little, sticking
together with tacky spit.
Stiles pulls back a little, face still hovering over Scott’s. “Um, was that
okay?”
“Is that all you wanted to try?” Scott asks and is distinctly aware that his
voice sounds rough, that his hand is still cupped at the back of Stiles’ head.
He doesn’t put any pressure to it though, thinks that Stiles needs to run this
show for now.
“No,” Stiles whispers and tips back down.
This time it’s a real kiss, a hard press of lips on lips, Stiles’ tongue
teasing Scott’s lips open to dip inside. Their tongues slide together, so hot
and wet. Scott can’t help the groan that he lets slip into Stiles’ mouth, but
he lies there and just takes it. And Stiles does it, Stiles gives it to him in
long, languid slides of tongue. He maps Scott’s mouth, learns every wet groove
of it from his pallet, to his teeth to the soft, vulnerable insides of his
cheeks.
For a long while, they just kiss like that, until lips and tongue aren’t enough
and teeth get in on the action. It’s really, really fucking good, one of those
things that Stiles manages to master in a matter of seconds.
Scott doesn’t know how long they’ve been kissing when he realizes that he’s
hard, that his dick is flushed with eager want and pressing into the meat of
Stiles’ thigh. When he does though, he pulls off of Stiles’ mouth to gasp in a
panting breath.
Stiles is caging Scott in, one elbow and one hand on either side of his head.
Scott reaches up, grips Stiles’ wrist and pulls it down. He guides that hand
between them and pushes its wide palm against his dick. “You should either stop
now or finish what you started,” he tells Stiles, like he’s daring him.
Never one to refuse a dare, Stiles gives him a squeeze, rubs the heel of his
hand up and down.
“Do you want me to rub you off?” Stiles asks, skimming his lips over the rise
of Scott’s cheekbone, getting his mouth and hot breath right over his ear. “Or
can I suck you?”
Scott wants to groan or growl, pant and howl, but he laughs instead. Stiles
always makes him laugh. He doesn’t answer with his words though, because he
isn’t sure he has them. Instead, Scott moves his hand to the crown of Stiles’
head and pushes, pushes him down in a way he would never dare to do with
Allison.
A surprised noise burbles out of Stiles, but he goes where he’s guided and
Scott spreads his legs to make room for him. He’s so far gone now, so hard,
because of Stiles and the way that he crosses all of Scott’s boundaries, the
way he makes a space for himself in every way, in every part of Scott.
Scott hooks his thumbs into the waistbands of his track pants and boxers, drags
them down and over the rise of his hard-on. It’s flushed pink and moist at the
tip, even harder than the time Allison let him put his fingers in her. He
wonders then, with Stiles on his hands and knees for him, if he could do that
to Stiles. How different it would be, how tight.
Scott strokes himself, thinking of how that would feel, thinking of Stiles’
wide red mouth and how he’s about to know it. There’s this whole new part of
Stiles that Scott is going to have and it makes him wonder why he didn’t think
to say ‘yes’ sooner.
Wetting up his lips with nervous flicks of tongue, Stiles lowers himself and
presses a kiss to the tip of Scott’s cock. The warm, wet feel of it makes him
arch and thrust up. Stiles jerks back in surprise when Scott’s dick bumps into
his nose. “Dude, careful with that thing. I’d rather not lose an eye while
giving my first blowjob.”
“Then stop playing around and suck it,” Scott bites back and guides Stiles back
down. He grips the base of his dick to angle it just right, guides it between
those open lips and gives a little thrust.
This is Scott’s first blowjob too, he and Allison not having gone past getting
their hands in each others’ pants, so he isn’t prepared for how good it is.
There’s a small part of Scott that feels guilty for this, doing something like
this behind Allison’s back, but it’s not enough to stop. Stiles always does
this to him, sets him on a course and damn the consequences.
Stiles opens his mouth wide, stretches it open on the thick girth of Scott’s
dick. Scott knows it’s a pretty average size, if somewhat on the thicker side,
but it looks so huge now that’s it’s opening Stiles up the way it is. The
flushed pink skin is shiny with spit, when Stiles pulls back and goes at it
from a different angle.
It’s a struggle of will, Scott feels like he could blow any second, but he
gives Stiles a few moments to adjust, watches the way he fits his lips around
his teeth before lowering his mouth down Scott’s length.
He really can’t help but brush his thumb pad over Stiles’ lower lip, nudging
over where his dick is shoved in nice and tight. Stiles’ lashes flutter before
his lids drop, he gives a tentative suck and it makes Scott whine.
It isn’t normally in Scott’s nature to be greedy, but he could always take from
Stiles, Stiles always lets him. So Scott cups his hands around Stiles’ hollowed
out cheeks and pulls. Stiles grunts, but lets it happen. Of course he does.
There are nasty slurping noises to go along with the moans and gasps. Scott
rocks up, fucks himself into Stiles’ mouth, pulls Stiles into it, a little off
rhythm and jerky. His balls are starting to draw up and Scott can’t take his
eyes away from Stiles, tears leaking from the corners of his eyes every time he
gets gagged on the meat of Scott’s dick. Drool and precome leaks out of his
mouth, his reddened up, wet perfect mouth.
“I’m gonna come,” Scott warns. “Can I come in your mouth?”
Stiles flicks a look up at Scott, hums and pushes his mouth further down on
Scott’s dick. That’s permission enough and Scott thrusts and thrusts and
thrusts until the come is sucked right out of him in long, spurts that are so
intense they almost hurt. His come fills Stiles’ mouth so full that it brims
over and drips into his pubic hair.
There are thick, swallowing gurgles coming from Stiles’ throat, Scott can feel
it working around his cockhead while the last pulses jolt out of him.
Scott finally stops coming and flops back, limbs splayed out in deep
satisfaction.
Stiles pushes up on his knees and swipes the back of his hand over his mouth,
thumbs a long smear off of his chin and into his mouth. It’s fucking obscene
and quite possibly the best thing Scott has ever seen.
Before Stiles can speak, Scott is on him, pushing him back against the dusty
living room floor. Scott shoves Stiles pajama pants down, barely surprised to
find him without any underwear. He spits into palm, three times and wraps it
around Stiles’ dick. He might be a little jealous that Stiles is bigger than
him, but only a little.
Stiles writhes under Scott, hips punching up into his slick and unrelenting
grip. It looks equal parts sexy and ridiculous. Scott pins him with a palm to
the center of his chest and strokes his dick hard and fast, just how Stiles
once told him he likes it. Doesn’t take too much really, Scott squeezing a
little tighter and a twisting around the head.
“yeah, fuck, fuck me, that’s so-“ Stiles babbles, because of course he does.
Never could shut his mouth and it makes sense that sex wouldn’t stop him.
Stiles comes messy and hard, shoots all the way up to his chin in long stripes
over his shirt. Scott doesn’t think he’s ever seen so much come. It’s such a
good, messy load and Scott did that to Stiles. So Scott isn’t just greedy with
Stiles, he can be generous too.
Scott wipes his hand off on Stiles shirt, it’s already a complete mess anyway,
and falls into a sprawl next to Stiles. He tucks himself back into this
underwear and tries to ignore the way his shoulder is tucked up uncomfortably
on one of the beanbags.
“So, that was awesome,” Stiles says with a happy hum. “Blowjob, check. Now I
just need to eat pussy and see how that goes.”
“God, Stiles,” Scott groans and wipes hand down his face.
“You think Allison would let me try it?”
“No, I fucking don’t.” Scott tries to sound cross about it, but a brief image
of Stiles with his head between Allison’s legs flashes through his mind. It
makes his spent dick give a twitch.
“I wore you down, didn’t I?” Stiles replies, twisting onto his side and smiling
wide and beautifully at Scott.
Scott grins at him.
“You always do.”
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