
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/4079923.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Teen_Wolf_(TV)
  Relationship:
      Rafael_McCall/Stiles_Stilinski
  Character:
      Stiles_Stilinski, Rafael_McCall
  Additional Tags:
      Daddy!Kink, Age_Difference, Video_Cameras, Masturbation
  Series:
      Part 1 of A_Hotter_Touch
  Stats:
      Published: 2015-06-05 Words: 2047
****** Sweetie, You Had Me ******
by Trundia
Summary
     Rafael wanted a show. Something to remember. And that's exactly what
     he's going to give him.
                The light on the camera turns red and Stiles knows that it's
show time. It’s set up a few feet from the dirty, undistinguishable, hotel bed.
He smiles to Rafael, who's standing behind the tripod and sets himself up on
the bed.
                He pulls his shirt over his head, throwing it to the corner. He
looks to Rafael for approval and earns a gracious nod.
                He sits his back against the headboard and closes his eyes,
trying to relax himself. He can pretend the camera isn't there. He can pretend
that it's just him and Rafael, that no one will see this.
                Rafael wanted a show. Something to remember.
                And that's exactly what he's going to give him.
                Stiles slides his hand beneath his boxers, rubbing himself
gently before pulling his cock out from the fabric. He slides his fingers over
the tip, stroking himself until his cock is hard and pulsing. Rafael is
watching him with a stare that Stiles himself has only seen a handful of times.
He's telling Stiles that he's precious, something to hold dear. That he can't,
for the life of him, figure out why Stiles is here for him. Doing this for him.
               Stiles knows why. He knows that Rafael may fuck him like an
animal, but he treats him like porcelain. He holds Stiles when he can, pulling
hair and marking skin like Stiles is his. Like he wants other people to know
just how takenStiles is. But most importantly, he fills a void within Stiles,
an empty darkness left over from the Nemeton, the Nogitsune, whatever hell he's
put through this week.
                He's stroked himself into complete hardness, squeezing his dick
at the base to stop himself from coming too soon. He takes this opportunity to
pull his boxers off, leaving him completely naked. Completely exposed.
                He sees Rafael shift his weight, swallowing his commands. "I
want you to show me. I want you to show me what you think I want."Rafael's not
supposed to say anything. He's just supposed to guess what Rafael wants. To
show him.
                Well, it's not so much a guess. He doesn't understand why the
camera is there, but he won't question it. He's never questioned anything like
this with Rafael. Maybe in the real world, where Rafael is trying to arrest his
friends, he'll challenge him 'til hell or high water. But here? He keeps his
questions to a bare minimum, instead doing pretty much anything Rafael asks of
him.
                The only time he'd rejected a command was with the blindfold.
As much as he trusts Rafael in their situation,he can't stand total darkness.
He feels as he did when the Nogitsune had power over him. Powerless. Out of
control. Scared.
                He flips over onto his front, rising up to his hands and knees.
He feels completely exposed now. He can't see the camera at all, instead he
chooses to look over his shoulder to Rafael, who seems to be palming himself
over his jeans. "Is this good?" He asks.
                Of course it is.
                "Do you want me like this? Opening myself up for you.
Practically begging for it." He moves forward a little bit, just enough to 
support himself without his right hand. He slides the hand behind his back,
circling a finger over his dry hole. The sensation of touching himself isn't as
novel as it used to be. He's gotten so used to Rafael's thick fingers, pushing
in with an expert hand, pulling back when Stiles is on the brink of coming.
He's not done this to himself in awhile.
                Rafael quickly throws a small bottle of lube over to Stiles,
prepared for what's coming next. Stiles opens the cap quickly and spreads a
small amount over a few fingers. His hands returns to his hole, practically
pleading for Rafael.
                Rafael has mentioned this many times- watching Stiles' hole
open up for him, pink and soft, trying to swallow  Rafael's fingers. This time,
he just has his own.
                He sweaty and nervous, he can't even imagine what he looks
like. One finger in is relatively easy, his entrance already used to the
feeling. "God, I'm still stretched. You did that to me, you know that?" When he
pulls the finger out, he can feel some of the lube drip out of him. He slides
two fingers in this time, a better stretch, but not enough. Not what he wants.
               Not what he needs.
                "Please. I want- god, please." He begs Rafael, pathetically so.
His voice is raw, his mouth thick and dry, completely unprepared. "Want your
cock in me."
                He slides in a third finger, twisting them inside himself,
trying to reach his prostate, but he's not at the right angle. He can never get
it himself the way Rafael can, unforgiving and relentless. He crooks his
fingers, shifting his whole body so that his ass is completely in the air now,
chest pressed up against the bed.
                "Daddy, please,just please fuck me, oh-" It took awhile before
Stiles could call Rafael daddy without thinking about his dad. Or Scott. Or
that he's fucking Scott's dad. But once he stopped thinking- once Rafael made
him stop thinking- it came almost naturally to him.
                God, the sounds he's making. He'd be embarrassed if he couldn't
see Rafael. Couldn't see him watching Stiles like a predator, marking each
movement with his eyes. He quirks his mouth into a smirk, knowing exactly what
Stiles wants. But he won't give it.
                Rafael didn't want himself on camera.
                "It's not safe. If someone ever saw this- I'd be dead. It
doesn't matter anyway, I just want to see you. I want to be able to watch this,
even when you're older, even when you hate me. I want this video as a reminder
of the way you want me now."
               Stiles is supposed to be making noises, speaking dirty. He's
never been particularly good at it, despite his general no-filter mouth. But
he'll try, justfor Rafael. "Oh, god, I'm so- please, I want- daddy, I need,-
oh- c'mon." He groans when he changes the pace of his fingers, trying a quick
and dirty pace, trying to reach a point of no return.
                His left hand lets go of the bed, reaching beneath his body to
stroke his cock. He can pretend the fingers breaching his hole are Rafael's,
trying to match the pace Rafael sets. He tries so hard,but he can't get it.
                "I'm trying-please-I've been a good boy. Want you. Needyou." He
jerks himself harder, faster, trying to get himself off. His body is trembling,
waiting for his cock to just finishalready. He wants this to be done.
                At the same time, he doesn't.
                Sometimes, Stiles thinks he'd lay naked in bed all day, waiting
for Rafael just to fuck him, if it's what the older man wanted. If he thought
it would please him, he'd just lie here, begging for the next time he'll be
fucked. "I'd do this forever, if you asked. You don't- oh-you don't need to
film me. I would- fuck- I'd do anything you asked."
                His fingers move at an alarming rate, trying to desperately to
match whatever rhythm Rafael would set.
                "I want you so bad right now, please, just- I want my fingers
to be your cock. Want you- filling me up, fucking me deep, all the time.
Please."He begs and begs, hoping Rafael will give up. Will step in front of the
camera and fuck him like a beast, hard and fast and dirty, filling that void
Stiles so desperately wants rid of. Stiles wouldn't mind it, if Rafael was on
camera with him. He wouldn't mind if he could watch this years down the line,
if Rafael did.
                "After you're done- after you've finished yourself off, showing
me exactly what I want, I'll fuck you like you want. Like you deserve. Fuck
your tight hole while I play the video of you in the background, so you can see
exactly what a little slut you are when you're begging for me."
                His begging is pathetic and now it's infinite, the memory of
riding his fingers 'til he comes will be on camera forever.
                For Rafael to watch whenever he wants.
                Even when Stiles hateshim, Rafael will know that at one point
in time, Stiles begged for him.
                Some part of Stiles, the sick twisted part that would stay in a
hotel room forever just to be fucked, says that it's okay. That he gets off on
it. That he wants Rafael to hold it over his head forever.
                Even when he hates him.
                "Please, oh god- Raf-" He's not supposed to say his name, so he
cuts it off before he can finish the word. "I need you. I can't- fuck- don't
think I can come without you inside me. I want it so bad. Please fuck me,
please."
                Rafael is still standing, his hands inside his jeans, stroking
himself. He's not doing it to get off, he's doing it to prepare himself, Stiles
can tell. He know the looks Rafael gets when he's about to fuck Stiles. He can
see it from a mile away.
                Stiles doesn't stop stroking himself, doesn't stop pushing and
pulling his fingers from his hole, the squelching sound from the lube driving
him crazy. His face is smashed against the bed, ass high in the air. He grips
his cock tight, faster than before, coming in stripes on the comforter.
                Stiles is given seconds of release before Rafael turns off the
camera, almost immediately after Stiles comes. Rafael pulls Stiles fingers out
of him, pushing his cock in easily.
                This is what Stiles wants. To be fucked with a reckless
abandon. His cock is long in length and average in girth, filling Stiles up in
every way he wants. The only sound is Rafael's hips slapping against Stiles, a
sound that Stiles practically dreams of. The sounds coming from Rafael's mouth
are obscene to say the least.
                Thank god for teenage refractory, because Stile's is already up
again. He cock is sensitive, though, he doesn't bother stroking it. Instead, he
gives Rafael want he wants. He can be just as obscene. "Oh, yes-oh god, daddy,
god I love this. You. Your fucking cock. Harder. C'mon. Please."
               Rafael speeds up in pace, his body tight and flush against
Stiles. "Wonder what your dad would say about that, huh? The sheriff's only son
begging like a fucking bitch in heat. C'mon Stiles, beg for me. Beg for your
daddy to fuck you the way you want. Beg me."
                "Please,I need this. Need you." Stiles grips the pillow beneath
him, nails digging deep into the fabric. Rafael runs his hands, rough and
calloused, up Stiles' back and neck, until he reaches his head, gripping
Stiles' hair. He pulls his head back against Rafael's shoulder, giving him a
sloppy kiss to the side of his mouth. Stiles loops an arm around Rafael's neck,
forcing their bodies closer, Rafael blanketed over his back. "Daddy-" his voice
is strained and ragged from crying out for Rafael earlier.
                "You've been such a good boy, Stiles. Tell me what you want."
Rafael keeps on hand gripped in his hair, but the other slides down Stiles'
chest finding its way to his cock.
                "You. Want- want you to come inside me. Plug me up. Keep you
inside me for hours."
                "Yeah, that's it, baby." His thrusts become quick and erratic.
"So good for daddy." Rafael strokes Stiles' sensitive cock. The oversensitive
nerves from his spent cock rush up his spine. He feels Rafael still behind him,
two shallow thrusts, and then warmth filling him up.
                Rafael’s come inside him. He doesn’t care that much, loving the
feeling of Rafael inside of him. Rafael pulls his cock out, replacing them with
two fingers that dip into him, come sticking to his fingers.
                “You want this, baby? I came inside you— you want to taste me,
too?” Stiles nods and Rafael reaches around his front, placing his fingers
against Stiles’ lips. Stiles opens his mouth and sucks on the fingers, the
bitter saltiness of Rafael sharp against his tongue.
                “What do good boys say, Stiles?”
                “Thank you, daddy.”
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