
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/12104679.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Teen_Wolf_(TV)
  Relationship:
      Scott_McCall/Stiles_Stilinski
  Character:
      Scott_McCall, Stiles_Stilinski
  Additional Tags:
      Lemon, PWP, Plot_What_Plot/Porn_Without_Plot, Porn_with_Feelings, D/
      s_relationship, Light_BDSM, Restraint, Hickeys, Biting, Bad_Dirty_Talk,
      Voyeurism, Orgasm_Control, Orgasm_Delay/Denial, handjob
  Series:
      Part 4 of Nyxie_Studies_Vocabulary_With_Ficlets
  Stats:
      Published: 2017-09-16 Words: 1362
****** Compliant ******
by Nyxelestia
Summary
     Stiles needed rules. Scott gave him rules.
     But while Stiles was compliant most of the time, he wasn't always.
     After all, rules were made to be broken.
Notes
     com•pli•ant (adj.)
     1. inclined or willing act in accordance with another's command,
     request, rule, or wish
     2. obedient
     com•pli•ance (n.)
     1. the act of following another's command, request, rule, or wish
     2. a disposition or tendency to yield or obey
     com•ply (v.)
     1. to act in accordance with another's command, request, rule, or
     wish
See the end of the work for more notes
Stiles needed rules. A lot of them, in fact.
Like a certain time-traveling doctor once said, Good men don't need rules, and
you don't want to know why I have so many.
Scott laid those rules out. Some of them were pretty broad. Tell him
everything, keep him in the loop, always make sure somebody knew where he was
and what he was doing at all times. They rankled, but Stiles still needed them
– and needed to be punished.
There was little that hurt more than Scott's disappointment, or the cold
shoulder Stiles got for breaking their rules.
After Donovan, after Theo, and after Kira and Malia moved on, things changed
between Scott and Stiles.
Not much, per se. They've always looked to each other like a north and south
pole. There was a reason Derek looked so unsurprised the first time he caught a
whiff of them on each other, why Dad laughed when Stiles stammered out that the
hickey he'd failed to hide was from Scott, why Melissa and Lydia muttered
'finally' in unison the first time they saw Scott and Stiles holding hands.
What most people didn't realize was that they weren't holding each other's
hands so much as Scott was holding Stiles' hand. Walking down a hallway or a
sidewalk, few would be able to tell that Stiles' half-step behind Scott was
intention, for the other boy to gently tug him along.
Stiles needed rules. Scott gave him rules.
But while Stiles was compliant most of the time, he wasn't always. After all,
rules were made to be broken.
And sometimes, Stiles' punishments just encouraged him.
Stiles needed to stop projecting his own insecurities onto the people and world
around him, which was why he had to stop trying to figure out if he was
attractive to people, especially to gay guys. The reason for this particular
rule is why Stiles resisted the urge, most of the time.
But sometimes, when eh wasn't feeling insecure, when he was feeling quite the
opposite, there was another reason to flirt with a guy, to check him out and be
checked out in return.
Especially in front of Scott.
When Stiles straddled the bench between the lockers, the new guy's eyes
skittered down towards the curve of Stiles' ass for a split second that he
counted in question. He was nice enough, into guys but not into Stiles, and
only in the locker room in the first place to wait for Danny.
The goalie in question only rolled his eyes at Stiles shamelessly failing to
flirt with his latest boytoy. Ignoring Stiles' latest shenanigans, he tugged
his boyfriend along with him out of the locker room.
Leaving Stiles alone with his alpha.
He watched Scott's shadow swing a leg over the bench, right behind Stiles. He
felt a felt a sharp puff of warm breath over his shoulder and down his
collarbone.
"You know the rules," Scott growled, the deep rumble in his voice belying the
the curve of his smile when he pressed his lips to Stiles' neck.
"So?" Stiles answered, grinning. "Knowing the rules doesn't mean I'm going to
follow them."
"Unless I do something about it," Scott murmured. He nipped on Stiles' ear as
he wrapped his arms around Stiles to grab onto his wrists. That conveniently
gave Stiles leverage to press back against Scott, plastering his back against
Scott's chest and nudging his ass against Scott's increasingly stiff crotch.
"What are you going to do?" Stiles challenged. "Fuck the compliance back into
me? To get me to follow the rules again?"
Rather than answering, Scott transferred Stiles' wrists to his left hand, while
his right trailed up Stiles' chest. The fabric of the practice jersey slid
across Stiles' sweat-slick skin in its wake. He was so caught up in the
feeling, he didn't notice where Scot's hand went until he felt a gentle squeeze
on his throat.
Stiles hoped he'd squeeze harder, but instead, Scott trailed his hand down
Stiles' waist, around his hip, and over his hardening dick.
"Nice try," Scott said, lips pressed against the shell of Stiles' ear. "But I
know better than that."
Stiles wriggled, trying to grind his hips against Scott's hand, but Scott just
tightened his arm around Stiles.
"You know you look great," Scott said, voice insanely conversation given how
hard his dick was. "You know how you look on the field when. When you work out
hard enough to work up a sweat, enough that all the gel runs out of your hair
and your clothes stick to your skin."
Stiles tilted to the side a little, his body almost cuddling further into
Scott's grip, and leaned his head back against Scott's shoulder. Scott took the
invitation, trailing his lips down to Stiles' throat. Stiles' entire body
jerked when Scott bit down.
Scott would never break Stiles' skin and risk turning him, but he'd definitely
leave a mark. There was no way Stiles would be able to hide this with well-
placed clothing, alone. H used make-up to hide hickeys from his dad, but Stiles
was sure that sometime tomorrow morning in the parking lot, between exiting his
jeep and waking into the school, Scott would find a way to wipe it all off.
Free hand tugging at the waist of Stiles' work-out pants, Scott murmured,
"These things are so thin, I swear I can see your ass when you do stretches. Do
you know-" Another nip, just below Stiles' ear, and his entire body arched as
the sensation spread down his spine. "Do you know how hard it is to captain the
team when I just want to drag you under the bleachers?"
"The real question..." Stiles panted out, chest heaving nearly as hard as
during lacrosse practice. "Is how hard are you?"
Scott bit down on his ear lobe in retaliation for the pun.
"I have to put a lot of work into making sure I'm not, not where the team can
see," Scott said, nosing around Stiles' head to bite at the other side of his
neck. "You drive me crazy."
Stiles' grin grew, even as he felt like he was going to shudder apart under
Scott's attention to his neck. "So what are you going to do about it?"
Scott nipped his skin one more time...and pulled away.
With a confused whine, Stiles turned around, to see Scott scooting back on the
bench. "Nothing," he answered, with a downright evil smirk. "Only good boys get
to come, and you haven't been a good boy, have you?"
Stiles stared at him. "No," he whined. "That's – you're not allowed to be this
evil!"
Scott reached over and swatted the side of Stiles' ass. Smiling through Stiles'
yelp, he pointed to the shower. "Go wash off so we can go study with the
girls."
Standing up, the front of his pants tenting almost obscenely, Stiles stared at
him.
"You can't be serious," he tried again.
Scott smiled that cute, puppyish, butter-wouldn't-melt-in-his-mouth smile, and
pointed again at the shower.
With a frustrated sigh, Stiles stripped off and threw his practice clothes at
Scott, who caught them as Stiles wandered into the shower.
He started the water, and turned the temperature spigot to cool it down a
little. As he turned around to figure out where the soap was, he saw Scott
hadn't moved.
Scott was still straddling the bench, one hand holding onto Stiles' sweat-damp
jersey, the other shoving down his shorts and pulling out his dick.
Stiles blinked, a little stunned, as he realized the shirt was under and a bit
in front of Scott's hardening cock, perfectly positioned to catch Scott's cum
right on it.
"What – are you just going to watch me?" Stiles asked, bewildered, even as his
own still-hard dick twitched at the thought.
Scott smirked, and started stroking himself. "I can't trust you not to finish
yourself off," Scott said. "So I've gotta make sure you comply."
Stiles just stared, incredulous, for a beat. Then, with a loud and pained
groan, he reached for the temperature spigot and turned the water temperature
down as low as it would go.
He was gonna need it.
End Notes
     Come_help_me_study_by_sending_me_a_vocab_prompt!_:)
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