Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/622161.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Teen_Wolf_(TV)
  Relationship:
      Peter_Hale/Stiles_Stilinski
  Character:
      Stiles_Stilinski, Peter_Hale
  Additional Tags:
      Public_Sex, Fingerfucking, Oral_Sex, Blow_Jobs, Masturbation, Swallowing,
      Dubious_Consent, Anal_Play, Begging
  Series:
      Part 4 of Unrated_Scenes_That_Were_Cut_From_The_Show
  Stats:
      Published: 2013-01-03 Words: 4063
****** You Don't Even Have To Ask For It ******
by ColetheWolf
Summary
     As Stiles is forced to locate where Derek is being help captive,
     Peter realizes that Stiles may not be willing to accept the bite, but
     he's definitely willing to suck cock.
Notes
     I've decided to go back and write fics as little in-between scenes
     from Teen Wolf episodes. This is following the plot-line of episode
     1x12 "Code Breaker"
Stiles stands behind the trunk of a gray sedan with his mouth gaping open,
shuffling around uneasily on his feet as Peter Hale stands to his direct left
taking out what looks like computer equipment from a dingy bag. He looks around
the dimly lit parking garage trying to figure out what to do exactly. He can’t
run. Peter will kill him. The other choice? Engage in conversation with the
sadistic psychopath alpha even though it may end Stiles’ life. Stiles soon
comes to a realization that there are no other choices though. He has to talk.
He has to at least say something and refrain from making it sound too snarky.
“Good luck getting a signal down here.” Stiles breaks the eerie silence resting
between the two of them, but doesn’t dare look over in the direction of Peter’s
typically cold and sharp gaze. That is until Peter’s arm rises up slightly,
giving just enough movement in Stiles’ peripheral vision to make the timid teen
look over.
Stiles looks to Peter’s hand, where a slick, black cartridge is being held in-
between the dry fingers. Immediately, Stiles’ knowledge of technology kicks in
and he realizes that the black cartridge is a mifi device. Something that gives
instant internet connection no matter where a person is and—just how the hell
does Peter know how to work wifi despite him being a werewolf potato for six or
seven years?
“Oh, mifi.” Stiles’ voice cracks in surprise as Peter hands him the cartridge
then pulls out a laptop. “And you’re a Mac guy…Does that go for all werewolves
or just a personal preference?” He jokes. Completely disregarding the fact that
Peter Hale—a.k.a alpha werewolf/psychotic murderer— is standing right next to
him.
Peter fixes his leather trench coat in a rather calm manner as he shoots the
irritant of a teenager a wicked glare. “Turn it on. Get connected.” Peter
demands, yet again in a rather calm manner. He looks to the blank laptop screen
and waits for Stiles to comply and obey to his command.
“You know, you’re really killing the whole werewolf mystique thing here…”
Stiles replies but does as he’s told. It’s not wise to aggravate Peter, but
sarcasm and sass come as second nature to Stiles. His remarks leave his lips
before he even has time to think. Hopefully Peter won’t lash out. Hopefully
Peter just gets up and leaves the parking garage to leave Beacon Hills forever.
Stiles picks up the mifi cartridge and turns it over onto its backside to read
the wifi passcode needed. He goes to type but realizes there’s another key
thing needed to get onto the laptop. Scott’s username and password.
“Look you still need Scott’s username and password and I’m sorry, but I don’t
know them.” Stiles lies through his teeth and Peter is quick to cut in.
“You know both of them.” Peter reveals smoothly with no hesitation. Stiles just
looks at him in pure fake amazement while he still tries to fool Peter into
believing he does not know Scott’s information.
“No. I don’t.”
“Even if I couldn’t hear your heartbeat, I would still be able to tell that
you’re lying.”
“Dude, I swear to God—” Stiles tries to defend his lie, but Peter isn’t dealing
with it anymore. The alpha grabs the back of Stiles’ neck and slams his face
down into the trunk of the sedan. Stiles cries out as his face and upper chest
make contact with the metal. He groans and writhes around trying to ease the
pain while Peter keeps a tight grip on the back of his neck.
Stiles’ breathing picks up as fear courses through his body. The alpha’s grip
on his neck is doing absolutely nothing but becoming increasingly painful.
Possibilities begin to flood through Stiles’ mind. The fact Peter is angry at
the moment and a known murderer don’t mix well and definitely don’t sit well in
Stiles’ mind. Right now Peter can easily kill him. Snap his neck in two and it
would be done. No more Stiles Stilinski.
Peter leans in slightly towards Stiles’ ear and begins speaking in an eerie
whisper. “I can be very persuasive, Stiles…” He pauses and Stiles groans out in
pain again. “Don’t make me persuade you.”
Stiles manages out a nod with his face still pressed against the car trunk and
Peter releases the grip. The still terrified teenager stands up and rubs the
back of his neck while wincing in pain. He can’t even bear to look to his side
because Peter is still standing there. Still standing there ready to lash out
again if Stiles doesn’t behave.
After a few seconds of making sure his neck was still intact, Stiles begins
typing on the laptop quietly. His rare silence breaks as he begins talking to
Peter again.
“What happens after you find Derek—”
“—Don’t think, Stiles! Type.” Peter growls out and Stiles actually stops typing
despite the fact he’s a hair close to getting sliced open by the alpha.
Stiles closes his eyes and swallows down his realization of what Peter is
planning on doing. “You’re going to kill people aren’t you?” He asks.
Peter takes a second to reply and for that second Stiles’ heart skips a beat at
the thought that he just pushed blood thirsty alpha over the edge into rage
mode. He doesn’t though. Peter still stays calm.
“Only the responsible ones.” Peter explains as he looks into Stiles’ brown
eyes. They’re slightly bloodshot and Peter can see how they’re becoming glossy
with every blink. It looks like he’s fighting back tears.
Stiles breaks away from Peter’s cold, disconnected gaze to the laptop sitting
on the car trunk in front of him but then looks back. “Look if I do this, you
have to promise to leave Scott out of it.”
Peter pauses for a moment and replies. Not angrily. Not in a growl. But in an
almost soothing tone. Stiles however can’t take that tone as a guarantee that
he’s safe from being killed. Peter is completely unpredictable and can snap any
moment.
“Do you know why wolves hunt in packs?” Peter asks and looks to Stiles but the
teen rolls his eyes and looks away. “It’s because their favorite prey are too
large to be brought down by one wolf alone. I need Derek, and Scott. I need
both of them.” He explains.
Stiles keeps his eyes locked at the computer screen rather than Peter’s eyes.
“He’s not going to help you.”
The two connect stares again as Peter retorts. “Oh he will, because it will
save Allison. And you will, because it will save Scott. Your best friend. Whom
you know so well, you even have his username and password.”
Stiles exhales accepting the fact he has to help Peter. He begins typing again,
this time filling in Scott’s username. Peter watches looking slightly confused
and asks. “He username is Allison?”
Stiles types in Scott’s password and Peter rolls his eyes and the pure
stupidity he sees being typed out in front of him.
“His password is also Allison?”
“You still want his in your pack?” Stiles asks and looks to Peter who then just
looks away so he goes back to typing.
Minutes pass and Stiles continues searching through coding and jumbled words as
he tries to figure out the coordinates to where Derek is being held against his
will. As he types he can’t help but sneak a few quick looks over at Peter who
is pacing back and forth quickly at a fair distance away. Something about Peter
is turning Stiles on and he can’t quite figure out what. Maybe it’s the way the
dim light of the parking garage is bouncing off of Peter’s body making him
seemingly glow. Or maybe it’s the way Peter’s black dress slacks are of a
rather snug variety and the way Peter’s crotch is being showcased in them makes
Stiles just want to drop to his knees, unzip the man’s slacks and pull out that
hot, thro—
“Wait, what the hel—That’s where they’re keeping him? His own house?” Stiles
interrupts and cools down his own smoldering fantasies of Peter Hale when the
screen of the laptop pops up coordinates to where Derek is located.
“Not at it. Under it. I know exactly where that is.” Peter looks at the
satellite aerial view picture of the location, shuts the laptop and begins
packing it back up when suddenly a deafening growl pierces Peter’s supernatural
werewolf hearing. He pauses to listen in then adds to his previous sentence.
“And I’m not the only one.”
Peter grabs the satchel with the laptop in it and opens the door to the sedan.
He places the bag in the back seat and listens in to the continuing howling
from another nearby werewolf. Stiles stands idly at the trunk of the car and
looks around the parking garage trying to figure out why Peter’s ears perked
up. He knows there’s some sort of loud noise going on, but his human ears can’t
pick up on the sounds.
“Give me your keys.” Peter orders, breaking the silence as he holds his hand
out expectantly for Stiles to comply.  Stiles does. He sighs loudly, reaching
his hand into the tightness of his pocket and pulls out the keys to his jeep he
cherishes maybe just a tab bit too much.
He managed to pull them out and hands them over to Peter. “Careful, she grinds
in second.” Stiles warns, sounding half sarcastic and half serious at the
acknowledgment that Peter might really just drive off in the jeep.
Peter grabs the keys from Stiles’ hand and crushes the metal in his werewolf
super strength. He gives them back, watching as Stiles’ facial expression
changes to a strange mix aggravation and anger.
Peter turns to open the door on the driver’s side when Stiles opens his mouth
again. “So you’re not going to kill me?” He calls out. Almost tauntingly but
wishes he hadn’t said anything when Peter turns to face him. He man’s eyes look
like death. They’re hallow. Cold and lifeless.
“Oh…god.” Stiles mutters out backing away from Peter who is stepping forward
towards him. “God, please.” Stiles prays in his mind for a sort second. He
wants to take back his sarcastic taunt. Peter was leaving. He was going to
leave him completely unharmed, yet he just had to open his stupid fucking
mouth.
“Don’t you understand yet?” Peter pauses and watches how truly terrified Stiles
is before continuing. “I’m not the bad guy here.”
“You turn into a giant monster with red eyes and fangs, and you’re not the bad
guy here?” Stiles asks.
Peter exhales quietly and squints his eyes just a little bit trying to figure
out the teenager in front of him. “He knows I can kill him right now if I
please. He knows that he is no match for my strength or power, yet he doesn’t
stop talking to me. He doesn’t back down like he should…” Peter thinks to
himself.
“I like you Stiles. Since you’ve helped me, I’m going to give you something in
return. Do you want the bite?” Peter asks with not even the slightest of hitch
in his voice to indicate he’s joking. He’s being serious and Stiles’ mouth
gapes open at the question.
“What?”
“Do you want the bite?” Peter repeats his question even though he heard Stiles’
heartbeat rise when he first asked it. Sties heard the question just fine the
first time. The boy knows damn well what it means. He’s just being difficult.
Stiles just stands there though as if he’s seriously stunned, so Peter
elaborates.
“If it doesn’t kill you, and it could, you’ll become like us.” Peter explains
again and Stiles questions yet again as well.
“Like you?—” Stiles asks stupidly and Peter cuts in quickly to announce the
fact he’s seriously losing patience with the teenager’s pointless babbling.
“—Yes. A werewolf. Would you like me to draw you a picture?” Peter steps
forward and continues speaking. “That first night in the woods I took Scott
because I needed a new pack. It could have easily been you. You’d be every bit
as powerful as him. No more standing by his side watching him become stronger
and quicker. More popular, watching him get the girl…you’d be equals. Maybe
more...”
Peter sees the gears twisting and turning in Stiles’ jumbled mind. He wants it.
He wants the bite. He wants to be turned so he can be like Scott and Derek. But
there’s something else there, leaking off of Stiles that Peter can smell rather
than see. Lust.
Stiles does want bites, but not exactly ones that would turn him into a
mythological creature. No. He wants the ones that happen tenderly during
certain activities. He wants the ones that leave bruises after the act is done.
The bruises that can be worn like a trophy. He wants love bites. Bites of
passion. Bites from beautifully rough sex.
Peter reaches out and grasps Stiles’ wrist gently. He can feel the fast,
galloping rhythm of blood pumping through Stiles’ wrist. Peter pulls Stiles’
arm up so that the teenager’s arm is at level with his mouth. All it takes is a
simple bite. Nice and clean. Stiles would be his in the sense that he’d be a
part of his pack. Peter battles with the idea of having a quick to argue,
jittery, immature little teenager in his pack but decides quickly. The teen
would certainly make a fine addition to his pack. Stiles could definitely prove
himself to be useful in maybe more ways than one.
“Yes or no?” Peter asks, keeping his grip on Stiles. He waits for an answer. It
isn’t a hard decision to make. Either Stiles wants to be powerful or he wants
to stay weak. Peter zones in on Stiles’ heartbeat. It’s picking up pace with
every given second. The teen’s heartbeat is enough of an answer for Peter and
he extends his fangs and leans down to bite down on Stiles’ perfect skin. With
no second to spare, Stiles rips his arm out of Peter’s grip out and away from
the fangs.
“I don’t want to be like you.” Stiles admits. He swallows a deep breath trying
to regain control over the situation. For a moment fear strikes Stiles like
lightning when he sees Peter’s gaze intensify on him. But Peter doesn’t lash
out with claws or fangs. Instead he just begins talking still using that eerily
calm tone.
“Do you know what I heard just now?” Peter asks and pauses to see if Stiles
will even bother to reply. The teen doesn’t so Peter resumes. “Your heart
beating slightly faster over the words ‘I don’t want’.”
Stiles just looks around realizing he’s been caught. Peter knows he wants the
bite. Stiles goes to talk but Peter just continues.
“You may believe that you’re telling me the truth, but you are lying to
yourself.” Peter steps forward, placing himself closer to Stiles. Close enough
to feel the warm breaths escaping Stiles’ mouth. His nostrils flair
involuntarily at the scent of pure want and absolute lust dripping off of
Stiles. Peter can smell it. All of it. The smell of blood pumping into Stiles’
cock is intoxicating.
“There’s something else you want. Isn’t there, Stiles?” Peter whispers and
presses his thumb to Stiles’ bottom lip. He presses it in just far enough to
feel the slick wetness of the teenager’s tongue on his calloused thumb.
Stiles doesn’t answer Peter’s question. He doesn’t even flinch when he feels
Peter’s thumb pressing into his mouth. The strong urge to suck and lick on the
alpha’s finger hits Stiles like a brick making his knees get weak at the bend.
He barely manages to stand upright when the taste of sweat and dirt sting
across his taste buds. He’s genuinely speechless for once in his life and the
fact Peter’s finger is pressing in further does nothing to help.
“You don’t even have to ask for it. I’ll make it as simple as that.  You’re a
teenager. You know exactly what you want. You know how to get it. So take it.”
Peter offers and slips his thumb out of Stiles’ mouth, letting a stream of
saliva follow out and over Stiles’ bottom lip.
Stiles just stares blankly into Peter’s dark eyes. Was Peter tricking him? What
exactly is the catch, because there is no way a sadistic psychopath would offer
something like that. Stiles flicks his tongue across his bottom lip, taking
back in the saliva Peter’s thumb dragged out. Stiles nods lazily and drops to
his knees so that his mouth is perfect level with the protruding tent in
Peter’s trousers.
Stiles takes a moment to assess the situation he’s in. He’s not complaining.
Definitely not complaining. But he’s nervous as hell. His stomach is in a knot
and—is that really Peter’s fingers gently combing through his buzz-cut? It is.
His heart skips a beat as Peter gently brushes through the shortness of his
hair.
Not more than a finger length’s distance from Stiles’ mouth is a huge,
throbbing bulge tenting the tight fabric of Peter’s pants. Stiles slides his
hands up the older man’s legs until he reaches the zipper of the pants. He
takes the zipper in his grip and tugs on it gently, pulling it down slowly
until a big enough opening is created so that Stiles can see the flushed and
naked skin of Peter’s pulsating member.
Stiles reaches inside with his nimble fingers, grabs Peter and pulls him out.
Only then does Stiles’ mouth gape open even more than it was previously. Peter
Hale’s dick is in his hand. In his fucking hand. Pulsating. Leaking pre-cum…
Fuck. Peter is huge. 8½ inches, cut. It’s beautifully flushed in a deep red
shade as it looks like Peter is seconds away from shooting a nice, sticky load.
Stiles tightens his grip around Peter’s length as he begins stroking it faster.
Stiles looks up to catch Peter’s gaze. His eyes look like he’s about to cry,
but Peter doesn’t look sad. He’s smirking. He’s looking down at the teen with
like Stiles is a piece of meat.
“Can I?” Stiles asks in a whisper, continuing to stroke the alpha. Peter
doesn’t even respond. Instead he steps forward causes his erection to bump
against Stiles’ lips.  
Stiles tongue immediately darts out, taking in the tip of Peter’ dick. He
begins swirling his tongue around the slit to take in all the beautiful pre-cum
that’s just waiting to be lapped up. He moans and grunts as he slips Peter
deeper into his throat. His lips stretch around the girth as he starts bobbing
up and down, slow at first but becomes increasingly faster within minutes.
Slurps and quick gagging sounds ring in Peter’s ears as the horny teenager
continues the wet and sloppy assault on his cock. Stiles is way too
inexperienced for Peter’s taste, but after seven years of absolutely no sex,
Stiles’ mouth feels like heaven.
“Dammit, Stiles…Just like that. Take it deeper.” Peter moans out, thrusting his
cock deeper into Stiles’ throat earnestly. His hand remains on the back on
Stiles’ neck. He’s using it as a way to keep himself from toppling over and to
guide Stiles on and off his cock in a fluid bobbing motion.
Peter finishes entirely too quickly. His hips stutter as he spurts stream after
stream of hot, salty liquid down the seventeen year old’s throat with a load
gasp. He snorts nearly muted laughter when he hears the desperate sobs and
chokes of “Mmmhn” coming from Stiles as he holds his head in place making sure
that his cock remains just where it is.
Stiles forcefully attempts to push away but Peter doesn’t let up and keeps his
cock jammed into Stiles’ throat as he unloads. There’s no other alternative.
Stiles can’t pull away. He can’t spit out the mouth of cum, so he swallows with
obscenely loud gulps.
Peter stares down at Stiles as it happens. He watches with a smirk because he
knows that the reason Stiles’ Adam’s apple is bobbing around so ferociously, is
because of the huge load of cum he shot down his throat. Peter makes sure he is
completely spent, waiting until his cock begins to go soft in Stiles’ mouth
before he pulls out. He even goes as far as slapping his softening cock on the
teen’s chin before putting it back into his trousers.
Stiles stands upright looking dazed yet satisfied at the whole ordeal. And even
though Stiles looks satisfied with taking Peter’s load down his throat, his own
cock is still leaking with anticipation of being touched. Hopefully Peter will
jerk him off until he gets to enjoy an orgasm by the hands of someone else too.
Peter looks down and grabs onto Stiles’ hard on. He squeezes it and strokes at
it for just a minute before releasing his grip. In a split second Peter rips
Stiles’ belt off then pulls his pants and shoes down to the ground.  Stiles is
lifted onto the trunk of the grey sedan and placed on his back all while trying
to figure out what’s happening and that’s when Peter starts talking.
“Stroke yourself.”
Stiles eyes widen. “But, I gave you…you’re supposed to…” Stiles mumbles out.
It’s only fair Peter pleasures him after Stiles was kind enough to fucking go
as far as swallowing Peter’s cum. What the fuck? How’s that even fair—
“Do it. Now.” Peter orders.
Stiles rolls his eyes, takes in a deep breath and begins jerking himself off
vigorously. Even if Peter wasn’t going to suck him off, or even jerk him
off…Stiles still needed to relive himself. He strokes himself with one hand
while his other hand reaches down to squeeze and caress his own balls. Stiles
goes even a bit further as to skirt across his untouched hole with his index
finger. He teases himself. Carefully putting not even the entire tip of his
finger into his hole only to pull back out.
Peter watches as Stiles does it. Licking his lips when he sees Stiles’ finger
go in and out of the hole he so desperately wants to take for himself. Peter
hits Stiles’ hand out of the way and shoots two of his own fingers into Stiles’
unslicked hole to begin fucking into it as hard and fast as he can.
Stiles’ entire body jolts and convulses at the intrusion and he screams out.
“FUCK, PETER!” Stiles yells out as he speeds up to stroke himself even faster.
His legs spread as wide as they can possibly be spread to allow Peter full
access. He’s moaning. Screaming. Begging with senseless mumbles that fill the
parking garage.
“More Peter! I need more of your fingers inside. More. More!”Stiles screams
out, clutching at Peter’s shoulder with his free hand.
Peter does listen to Stiles’ desperate pleas. He pushes in more of his thick
fingers, leaving Stiles to writhe around on the trunk of the car with four
finger shoved deep into his ass. Peter continues with the brutal fingering
until Stiles is clenching down hard signaling that he’s about to cum.
“I’m gonna…I’m gonna cum…shit. Shit!” Stiles yells out and shoots his load
hard, leaving it pour onto his shirt and even spurt a few good jets onto his
face. He arches his back at point of orgasm and strokes his cock as hard as he
can while he shoots making cum fly in all sorts of directions.
Peter slips his fingers out of Stiles’ hole and smiles down at the filthy
teenager. He grabs Stiles’ by the collar of the shirt and throws him to the
cement floor carelessly. Stiles lands with a loud grunt of pain but doesn’t
yell or whine over it. Instead he looks over at Peter with a dirty smirk
stretched across his face while he messes around with his stretched hole,
displaying it to Peter.
“Goodbye, Stiles.” Peter says as he gets into the car, backs out of the parking
space, and speeds out of the parking garage leaving Stiles soaked, breathless
and all alone on the cold cement.
Please drop_by_the_archive_and_comment to let the author know if you enjoyed
their work!