
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/686907.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Teen_Wolf_(TV)
  Relationship:
      Isaac_Lahey/Stiles_Stilinski
  Character:
      Stiles_Stilinski, Isaac_Lahey
  Additional Tags:
      Blow_Jobs, Ficlet
  Series:
      Part 2 of The_Becky_Prompts
  Stats:
      Published: 2013-02-16 Words: 1143
****** Stiles's Eighth Favorite Thing About Isaac ******
by Cheylock
Summary
     Stiles has had the longest day on the damn planet and today sucked
     until Isaac started to.
     Then Stiles was pretty set.
Notes
     Yay full page mark! Super proud of you!
     Prompt: Red.
Stiles has had a really fucking terrible day.
There was the harpy, which should not be a thing that really exists but is and
what the fuck kind of world is he stuck living in when him and his underage
friends are stuck killing something that could maybe be a chicken if he was on
PCP that bleeds blood that looks like sirloin soup because the adults happened
to get brained within the first three minutes of the fight.
(That isn't a question, because the type of world he's stuck living in includes
all sorts of supernatural bullshit previously thought to be just that:
bullshit.
But what it is turned out to be a lot worse than bullshit.
What it is is real, and his best friend is a walking reminder of that, as is
his boyfriend. So lots of points that he thought were truth are moot.
Werewolves exist, and so do human lizard creatures that he may or may not still
have nightmares about, and so do winged women-beasts with mouths like garbage
disposals in a very bad way and a penchant for stupid men, and so do a whole
host of other things that fucking should not. But they do.
Maybe if he keeps repeating it to himself it'll frustrate him less that he
still has fucking Biology homework tonight.
As if these fucking people had any idea what creatures are really out there.)
He had to deal with that feathery bitch before lunch, and then he missed lunch,
because Harris caught him running in the hall and decided detention was more
important than letting a hungry kid refuel. Fucking prick.
To top it all off, he hasn't seen his goddamn boyfriend all fucking day, he has
no idea whatsoever where Isaac is and because of the bullshit hectic
supernatural mess that is his life he can't help thinking that something
happened. He doesn't text Isaac first, because that would be pathetic, but he
really, really wants to, and he stares at his phone, full of melancholy and
melodrama, until he hears knock on his door.
He opens it and Isaac's standing there looking a little wild-eyed but no worse
for wear. His legs go watery in relief but he stands on them anyway, and he
smiles, full and wide. "Hey beautif--"
'S all he gets out before Isaac has his mouth fitted over Stiles's and Stiles
hears the door close but doesn't see it, feels the bed under him suddenly, and
just arches up into Isaac and wraps his arms around Isaac's waist and falls
into his lips. He's whimpering and squirming in no time, and then his clothes
are off in a goddamn whirlwind and Isaac's kissing down his chest, lips full of
blood and eyes full of lust, and then he registers that Isaac's in a red shirt
and he actually blurts that out because he's stupid and his mouth does that.
"Hey--you look really hot in red. Like. Really hot."
Isaac smiles and sort of puffs up, like he does every time Stiles compliments
him, and Stiles smirks a little, because he can't help it, because that
contented little look is probably his favorite thing he's ever caused.
"Well look, don't get a big head or anything, but--honestly, you look hot in
pretty much every colo--goddamn Isaac fuck oh my god--" Aaaand then he
dissolves into profanity because Isaac's tongue is warm on his cock and then
Isaac's mouth envelopes him in perfect wet warmth and he's gone, he's totally
goddamn brainless.
(That isn't really a metaphor--Stiles's medula oblongata is still functioning,
but everything else shuts down. Isaac is the only person who's ever been able
to do that to him.
Isaac says it'd be the same no matter who swallowed his cock, that he's not
special, it's just the thing that he's doing.
Call Stiles a romantic, but he's pretty goddamn sure Isaac is special.
Every time he says that he gets a sarcastic-ass reply though.
Doesn't stop him from saying it. The sarcasm's kinda hot.)
Stiles's filter, granted a chain-link fence at the best of times, becomes a
large line of posts that are in no way connected and he whispers and whimpers
and yelps everything he's thinking, which is mostly just 'Isaac' and 'your
eyes' and 'you're blushing baby god you're blushing you don't have any fucking
clue oh my god you don't know what you do to me'  plus a fuckton of profanity
and 'please don't stop'.
After he comes, and after he makes Isaac come without ever coming out of his
own haze of pleasure
(Isaac soaks up pleasure as fast as he can, drinks in as much as he can hold
and more sometimes.
It is Stiles's eighth favorite thing about him.)
he lays there with Isaac, eyes hazy and unfocused as they rove around the room,
not because he wants to look but because his face is on Isaac's chest and he
can't look at Isaac's face and his eyes want to move so he lets them.
Isaac mumbles something and Stiles uses it as an excuse to pick his head up and
look Isaac in the face. "Isaac, we've discussed this. I do not have dog-tier
ears. Bring it up a level, please." He kisses Isaac's chin and Isaac rolls his
eyes.
"Mhm. I just--you look really good in red. I like your red hoodie. It brings
out the red in your eyes."
Stiles pulls back and his eyebrows draw together. "Red? In my eyes?"
Isaac blushes hard, and Stiles has a new goal--to put red in his cheeks all the
goddamn time, because it is simultaneously the hottest and the sweetest thing
ever.
"I uh...your eyes are...different. In certain light. And right now, when the
sun's going down like this...they...they're reddish. And they're kind of.
Amazing." He looks away from Stiles's face, which is kind of sad, because
Stiles is pretty sure he's grinning ridiculously huge and Isaac did that and
Isaac deserves to get to see.
(The thing about Isaac is, compliments are kind of hard for him if they're not
actually having some form of sex. He gets really embarrassed.
Stiles can never figure out why.)
"Oh my god, Isaac--do you wanna call me 'Alpha Stiles'?" The hard look Isaac
gives him has him backtracking almost immediately. "Or not! No Alphas or Betas
or anythings in bed, I know, I'm sorry, it's just--red eyes, you can't expect
me not to connect the do--"
Isaac cuts him off with that beautiful mouth again.
(Ordinarily, Stiles fucking despises being cut off.
But when it's Isaac, who pays attention to his boring brown eyes and kisses him
senseless and sucks his cock like it's the only reason he's still alive, well,
he doesn't mind so much.)
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