Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/9055864.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Teen_Wolf_(TV)
  Relationship:
      Rafael_McCall/Stiles_Stilinski
  Additional Tags:
      Extremely_Dubious_Consent, Coercion, Blackmail, First_Time_Bottoming,
      Humiliation, Manhandling, Anal_Fingering, Anal_Sex, POV_Stiles,
      Additional_Warnings_In_Author's_Note
  Stats:
      Published: 2016-12-25 Words: 1704
****** Vulnerable Position ******
by Twisted_Mind
Summary
     “I mean, if you can’t, then you can’t. I don’t really blame you.
     Scott’s not worth this.”
     And that, that right there, was why he was gonna do this anyway.
     Because Scott was worth it, damnit, not that Raf could ever
     understand that. Wouldn’t, if Stiles had his way. So he took in a
     deep breath, let it out slowly, and said, “Just—gimme a minute.”
Notes
     Merry Christmas, Benji!
     Warnings:
     1) Stiles is underage here, at about 15. So pre-werewolves and shit,
     which is why he's able to keep it secret.
     2) If anyone here is triggered by rape/non-con, you might want to
     give this a pass. This fic is pretty dark, and psychologically
     convoluted. There is some more detail/backstory in the end notes if
     you want more info to make an informed choice. Take care of
     yourselves, lovelies.
     HUGE thank yous go to BelleAmante and DenaCeleste for pre-reading and
     handholding and general cheerleading. I could not have this without
     the both of you.
See the end of the work for more notes
                                        
Stiles flipped the deadbolt on the motel door and kicked off his shoes before
dropping to his knees in front of Rafael. He knew the drill by now, knew how
this worked, how to make it as quick and painless as possible for himself. He
reached for the asshole’s belt, but his wrists were caught.
“Mm, something else today, I think.”
He swallowed, and tried to keep his voice even despite his racing heart. “That
wasn’t the deal. Deal was I blow you, and you leave Scott and Melissa alone.”
“Deals get renegotiated all the time, kiddo. Especially when circumstances
change.”
The cold look on Raf’s face scared him, but he wouldn’t admit it. He tugged his
hands free and rolled to his feet. “Last time I checked, I was still sucking
your dick and you still suck as a dad, so I don’t know what makes you think you
can get more out of me. Especially since I could always just,” he paused to
shrug and make an innocent face, “report you for this.”
Raf’s lip curled. “Oh you could, but then you’d have to explain to your
precious father and my son how you got tangled up with me. Wouldn’t want them
to know you’re so desperate for cock that you went after mine while I was
sleeping, would you?”
Cold sweat broke out across his back and shoulders, but he pretended Raf’s
words didn’t bother him. “I mean, it’d be your word against mine about how that
went down, and it’s not like you wanted me to stop, so . . .”
Raf reached out for him, but he stepped back. “Get over here, and get your
jeans off, you little brat.”
Stiles knocked away the arm reaching for him again. “I repeat: that wasn’t part
of the deal.”
Anger made Raf’s voice ugly. “Scott contacted me. He wants to meet. If you want
me to stay away from him, you’d better give me a damn good reason.”
“I’ve held up my end of the bargain—it’s not fair for you to decide you get
more just because it’s a little uncomfortable for you to hold up yours.”
This time, Raf did manage to get a grip on him, and hauled him over to the
little table in the corner. Stiles gasped as he was slammed against it. “You
started this, kiddo. Now it’s time to be a big boy and follow through.”
He didn’t fight as Raf unbuttoned and unzipped his pants. Didn’t move as his
jeans and boxers were hauled down his thighs, baring his ass. He knew what Raf
was capable of, knew exactly how badly this could go for him if he did fight.
As much as he didn’t want this—and the inside of his head was just an endless
scream of “No!”—he didn’t have any good options, here.
He yelped when Raf cracked a hand across his ass. “Your father never did punish
you the way you needed. Boy like you needed discipline. Still does. Maybe I
should take my belt to your backside.”
He gritted his teeth, refusing to rise to the bait. “You get to hit that
metaphorically or literally, not both. So pick one.”
Stiles tensed hearing Raf undo his belt and slacks. “Some other time, I’ll see
about teaching you some respect. I doubt it’ll work on a degenerate like you
when all you can think about is my cock, but it’s worth a try.”
He flinched when he felt Raf’s fingers spread his cheeks. He might’ve been
curious, but hadn’t actually explored that particular avenue. He wished now
that he had, if only so that he’d have something to compare this to. He
breathed easier when Raf’s hands left his body, slumping a little.
“You as virginal as you look, kiddo?”
There was no good answer to that. “Whaddya wanna hear? That I’m so desperate
for cock I’ve been bending over for the entire lacrosse team? Or d’you wanna
feel special and be my first?”
He tensed when Raf’s fingers came back to rub slick over puckered flesh. “How
about, just for a change, you try the unvarnished truth.”
Stiles forced himself to breathe, relax. He’d never done this before, but he
wasn’t ignorant. “Doesn’t really seem relevant.”
Raf hummed. “I disagree.”
Before Stiles could give that the derision it deserved, Raf suddenly pushed one
finger in to the second knuckle. Stiles choked back the whine he wanted to let
out and focussed on counting his breaths. When he no longer felt like he was
having a heart attack, Raf patted his hip. “And that, kiddo, is why it’s
relevant.”
Stiles fought not to tense back up as Raf started working the finger inside
him. “Don’t pretend you care.”
The deadbeat bastard had the nerve to laugh. “Oh, not at all. But anal tearing
can be quite nasty. Might even require medical intervention, and that . . .
that could get messy.”
“You mean it could get you caught as the blackmailing pervert you are.”
A sudden twist of Raf’s hand caused sparks of pain to flare. “I’d be careful
giving lip, if I were you. You’re in what’s known as ‘a vulnerable position’.”
He really, really hated giving Raf what the manipulative asshole wanted, but
dude had him by the balls. Literally and metaphorically. So he shut up and
gnawed his lower lip as he was stretched. He tried not to focus on what was
happening, and did calculus in his head to keep from thinking about what was
going to happen.
Being dicked by the biggest dickhead in California was not how he’d thought his
day would go. But, he admitted as he heard Raf open a condom, that was
definitely how today was going, so he might as well make it easier on himself
if he could.
“I am,” he grunted.
Raf paused. “Am what?”
He fought the embarrassment turning his face red. “A virgin. At least as far as
my ass is concerned.”
Raf chuckled. “See? That wasn’t so hard, was it? And, as a reward,” Stiles
jolted a little as Raf’s fingers came back, coated in more lube, “I’ll give you
more prep, and some advice: bear down, and breathe out slower than you breathe
in. It’ll keep you from tensing up too much.”
Stiles had to remind himself that it was good advice, no matter where it came
from, when he felt Raf work more fingers inside him than had been there before.
He whined, and bit his lip until he tasted blood when he heard Raf snicker. He
tried to ignore what was going on like he had before, but couldn’t this
time—the way Raf’s fingers spread him open and pulled him apart burned sharply.
When Raf pulled his fingers free, Stiles felt a sick kind of dread settle in
his stomach. Raf started pushing inside, and it was so, so different from
fingers, and he thought he could do this, but no, nope, abort—
Raf planted a hand between his shoulder blades, pushing him back down against
the table. “Breathe and bear down, remember?”
His breath hitched around the sob he wanted to give. “I can’t do this.”
Raf rocked his hips, nudging his cock a fraction of an inch deeper. “Sure you
can.”
Every muscle in his body felt tight, trying to get away, force the intrusion
out. “I really, really can’t.”
The pressure holding him down eased, but Raf’s hand skated down his back. “I
mean, if you can’t, then you can’t. I don’t really blame you. Scott’s not worth
this.”
And that, that right there, was why he was gonna do this anyway. Because Scott
was worth it, damnit, not that Raf could ever understand that. Wouldn’t, if
Stiles had his way. So he took in a deep breath, let it out slowly, and said,
“Just—gimme a minute.”
“Oh, no trouble there—I’ve always preferred to savour rather than rush.” The
shithead sounded amused, but Stiles didn’t have time to remind him that he was
committing a felony right now.
Stiles had managed to relax enough to no longer feel like he was being impaled,
but was nowhere near ready for more when Raf started moving again. He counted
his breaths, paying as little attention as possible to what was happening. He
expected Raf would do whatever and let him know when it was over, which was why
fuckhat’s words surprised him.
“It’s okay to like it, you know.”
Which. What the fuck? He’d been as still and silent as possible, waiting for it
to be over. What about that gave Raf the impression he didn’t hate what was
going on?
“Are you fucking delusional?” he spat.
Raf snapped his hips harder, and Stiles had to bite back a pained gasp. “You’re
hard, kiddo. Doesn’t take a genius to put it together from there.”
He shook his head, even as he realized it was true. Raf huffed. “You should
touch yourself—it’ll make this a helluva lot easier for you.”
Stiles grit his teeth. While that might be true, it was almost certainly not
worth giving Raf the satisfaction. Besides that, the last thing he wanted to do
was let the opportunistic skeezebag think he was enjoying it.
Of course, the problem with that was that he did. Now that he wasn’t actively
ignoring his body, he felt the way Raf’s dick occasionally nudged his prostate,
sending sparks crackling across his nerve endings. He felt the way his body
gave, opening up and taking it in a way he didn’t know was possible. He felt
the subtle sting when Raf thrust a little harder, and the way it made him start
leaking. He felt the ache in his pelvis as the need to come started to tug at
his insides.
He could lie to Agent Dipshit, but not to himself. Apparently he liked getting
fucked. He didn’t want to, didn’t think he would, didn’t want this twisted deal
to come with perks. This wasn’t supposed to be about him, wasn’t supposed to
feel good, be anything but selfless.
He wrapped a hand around himself, feeling like he was betraying Scott. When he
came, he was silent and had tears in his eyes.
 
End Notes
     Background:
     Stiles first accosted Raf while McDeadbeat was asleep. Raf woke up,
     and encouraged him to keep going, enjoying the fact that he had an
     underage boy eagerly servicing him. After, Stiles threatened to ruin
     his career if he didn't stay away from Melissa and Scott. Raf agreed,
     but only in exchange for more sexual favours.
     In this fic, Raf takes advantage of Stiles's loyalty to Scott and
     their messy entanglement to push for more than Stiles is comfortable
     giving. Stiles agrees--as much as he can, given the givens--despite
     how much he wants to refuse.
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